A sweet, sweet college friend and her family offered to keep them. Her daughter had fallen in love with them while visiting us last autumn. Between her offer to keep them and the actual arrival of said dogs at her house, life got a little more complicated. We won't go into it here, but it did factor into lowering the breaking point of the household.
I drove the dogs to my home state, spent one night with them at my friends' house, then came back to Texas. Here they are a few minutes after I left:
Because this household had never hosted dogs before, and the girl raised on the farm had in fact never had an indoor dog, we agreed it would probably be best for the humans' peace of mind if the dogs weren't allowed the run of the entire house in the absence of said humans.
So, when they left for work the next day, the spacious and lovely master bathroom it was.
We all figured I'd wind up doing some repair to door scratches by The Boy. Yes, indeed, I'll be sanding and staining their bathroom door at some point later this year. Not a huge deal. They said it already had some nicks anyway.
That evening, my dear college friend stepped out of the shower to discover a puddle of puke on her master bedroom carpet. She called, of course, because I'm far more wise in the ways of dog puke than she. After a thorough over-the-phone analysis, we determined it was probably The Boy, and was just nerves -- not totally unexpected, because The Boy has a Complex.
About an hour later, I received a text message: "I just settled in to fall asleep -- only to awaken to a very large barf from Angus."
The follow-up text: "Kevin just found pieces of soap in the pile of barf."
Subsequent texts included phrases such as, "I thought it WAS toddler-proof" and "I don't know where the frick he got the soap. It's almost like he climbed into the jacuzzi." Also, "Tuesday acts a bit ashamed of him..."
The next morning I called our veterinarian, who already knew about the move (we'd had one last checkup for Tuesday and took Angus along to say farewell, too). She prescribed some doggy downers and called it in to a pharmacy near my friends.
Before making the pharmacy run, though, my dear sweet college friend went straight home after work. It's a good thing she did, because getting there earlier conserved several gallons of water.
We will never know for certain exactly how a dog (or perhaps the combined efforts of two dogs) managed to turn on the Jacuzzi faucet.
What we do suspect, and what Dear Sweet College Friend later wished she'd photographed, is that based on the positioning of the bath towels that had been pulled off the rack and down onto the floor, they did try to build a dam after the Jacuzzi overflowed. (We are still finding that part astounding. If they could build a dam, why couldn't they have just turned the faucet back off instead?)
You see, Dear Sweet College Friend had tossed a couple of bathroom rugs into said Jacuzzi to keep them away from a certain anxiety-driven dog. So when the faucet got bumped, the water wasn't able to drain as efficiently as it would've in an empty tub. And the overflow drain just couldn't keep up. My friend discovered an abundance of water and wet fur, both freed from and attached to the dogs in question.
Two loads of laundry and one master bedroom carpet shampooing later, it turned out that the Jacuzzi Incident of 2010 did not actually cause any damage to the house. Or to our friendship.
But it did cause a rapid deployment of The Alpha's parents, who live 45 minutes away from Dear Sweet College Friend. They were there in just one hour to pick up their granddogs and all of their accompanying accessories.
Have I mentioned lately how awesome my in-laws are? Because they are.
Dear Sweet College Friend's daughter was distraught, of course. "But mama... I love those dogs!" "Mama, can I please take 'em out to pee one last time?" Oh, so sad. I'll have to take them back to visit her when I get up there.
The dogs are much calmer at the family homestead. They've stayed there with us many times, so the environment is far from foreign. And there is no Jacuzzi.
When we asked if they'd caused any damage without us there, my mother-in-law answered, "Well, they've about worn out the couch... from sleeping on it."
We saw them Sunday night and Monday morning, when we drove up for a quick house-hunting expedition. And before we left, I did give The Boy a doggy downer to cut the separation anxiety. But he hasn't needed them on a regular basis.
I move in with my in-laws at the end of the month, just before I start my new job. I'm kind of looking forward to being covered in dog fur again.
But I'm not too keen on looking for a house with a Jacuzzi.