Don't bite the hand that feeds you!

Each and every morning I do my same OCD routine. I get up and feed Dixie, Tank, and Jack while I prepare my organic flax seed oatmeal (1 min. 30 sec. in the microwave). As the microwave beeps, I switch out the oatmeal for my hot green tea (1 min. 18 sec. in the microwave) while I prepare Maddie's prescription food. It's perfectly orchestrated so that no time is wasted.

Then I sit down to watch the news, try to enjoy my breakfast, and guard Maddie's plate while she eats so the others don't steal her food. You'd think we were feeding her crack with the way the vultures sit and wait to make their move. Next, I chug down the rest of my tea while putting on my hat, gloves, and jacket. At this point there are usually one or more dogs running back and forth to the door doing their "wee wee dance". I find a chewie to give to Jack so that he is distracted while we're gone. Then Dixie, Maddie, Tank and I run down the street and around the corner to the empty lot where they quickly relieve themselves. I don't think poop bags are necessary on an empty lot, not to mention it is 6:30 am and the neighbors can't see us because it's dark, so we forgo the pick-up and continue with our walk.

When I return I unhook my dogs and grab Jack and we're off for round two of the walks. Most days he waits patiently with his chewie for us to return, but every once in a while he gets pissed off that he's been left and grabs the mail off the counter or busts into the nursery and tears up diapers.

This morning I came back in the house and Jack took off running like a bandit into Mike's room. He loves to run away when he has stolen something so of course I chase him down yelling at him to "DROP IT". He flies under the bed (his favorite sleeping spot and so called "cave") and starts howling. At this point I'm thoroughly agitated because he is throwing off my OCD routine and I'm wasting precious time. I flop down on the floor look under the bed to find a package of hot dog buns that he stole from the kitchen. Apparently, in the Alaska or wherever in the world Husky's live hot dogs buns must be a commodity. Jack starts snarling and daring me to take the buns. I wasn't in the mood for this nonsense so I snarled back and stuck my hand under the bed to take the buns. Rich is always giving me "be dominant" so they respect you speech so I gave it a try and damn, if he didn't bite my fricken hand! He punctured my middle finger right in the knuckle which caused those first two joints to swell up and bruise immediately. I've never been bitten by a dog before, but boy does it get sore. Needless to say, Jack did not get a walk this morning and he's lucky that he bit me and not Rich or he'd be the one hurting!