Baylie Dog here. I’m ashamed, but I can’t help myself. Yes, it’s true. There is a seedy side to my private persona; I’m a digger. My digging sometimes puts me in time out by mom. But, she loves me so much it usually doesn’t last very long. Afterwards, I feel very guilty and sad that I have disappointed my mom, so I turn on my cuteness and give her sad puppy dog eyes and she melts. She’s a softy like that.
Mom’s tried different means to break me of my habit; even consulting advice from experts. Some, I had rather not go into detail about because it involves procedures that, to tell you the truth, are just down right embarrassing. I also dig after it rains. What dog doesn’t love the cool, damp dirt and mud between their toes. Of course, I also transfer it onto the patio and inside if I can slip by mom and get into the house. Mud transforms me into a hot, muddy mess as you can see by this photo. And, the bad thing is, I’m not like my feline fursister, Smoki, who can wash up on her own. I’m pretty well stuck with the mud until mom gives me a ~~~bath~~~ ugh!
If you have any advice for my mom to prevent me from digging, I would love to hear about it so I can pass it on to mom, as she is at her wit’s end. She now thinks my digging may have something to do with separation anxiety. Because I never dig when she is outside with me. It’s only when she leaves me alone in the yard. That could be true, as I’m a mama’s girl and always will be. Don’t tell anyone but I still crawl up in her lap on the sofa to sleep. I feel safe when I do this. I tried to convince mom that this digging thing is just in my genes; I’m a dog, duh. And, I’m a working dog, so my job description includes digging and herding.
Woof and love, Baylie Dog!