Morning in the Gulag

My mornings in the Gulag require serious cafeine. My husband could sleep until noon and would if he could but usually curls up with our alpha dog until the very last minute. He has a great job that he loves in a town 15 miles north of us, believe it or not, in Mayberry! We lived there for five years until we found our dream home in Pilot Mountain.

Mukki and Quinn on bed protected by dog-proof cover!

Our dogs are Siberian Huskies, hence the name of the blog. They have systematically destroyed almost everything we hold dear, except our love for them. My life is a constant battle of wits with the destructors. Cleaning is like standing in the surf, each wave pulls sand from under your feet and you can never feel secure if you stand still.

If you want to share our pain: We got our dogs from Southern Siberian Rescue, run by a woman named Dawne, in Raleigh, NC. People don't usually think of the south when they think of these dogs and it's not a great summer place for them but that hasn't stopped people from buying and discarding "Snow Dogs". Dawne pulls nearly 100 a year from local pounds, many more are put down. Some are so sick or damaged, Dawne has to have them put to sleep and it breaks her heart. I could never do what Dawne does and I thank God she is here and working tirelessly saving the few she can. Dawne also earned the award for most serious siberian husky destruction, when she came home to find three new doggy hole/doors chewed through the wall of her house!!!

I have had huskies, siberians, malamutes, and a crazy wolf-hybrid in the past but nothing even Gracie, the wolf, could have prepared me for life with four! The precious puppy you see above at the end of the bed, Quinn, who is now 3.5 years old has done more destruction on his own than all the dogs past and present combined and has reduced me to tears many times. And yet, I held him seconds after he was born, I call him my little splat. My husband may argue that he was the first to 'touch' Quinn but that is only because his mother dropped him on R's size 13 barefoot! Which grossed him out so thoroughly we thought he'd need therapy.

The Mighty Quinn may look innocent and can be very sweet but don't let his looks fool you. When he was 6 months, I went into the basement to start a load of laundry, I walked through the family room where all four dogs were lounging. An hour later when I returned to put clothes in the dryer, Quinn was busy removing the last bits of foam and fabric from the wooden frame of the sofa! The other dogs were calmly sleeping on piles of fabric and foam! Nothing was larger than a few inches, nothing was even repairable!

He went on to destroy pillows, comforters, a mattress, a sleep sofa, the list goes on and on... Now that he is almost 4, he is starting to calm down and I am slowly starting to think of him as my Little Splat and not the Little Sh!t

So, if you are amused or entertained by cute or funny animal tales, make this blog you go-to place. Also, visit our web site at Monkey Junction, where you will also find more stories, recipes for man and beast, crafts, decorating, gardening and other tidbits of life, because I am determined to have a life, in spite of Quinn, who will not defeat me and as God is my witness, I will create a siberian-proof home!