this stuff really happens at our house.

Ryder is still under house arrest after his surgery.

House arrest for this giant puppy involves leash walking exclusively for every bathroom break.  We’ve got a decent little system of sharing the load between the kids and I and the friendly fur face is progressing nicely and honestly such a happy dog despite his kennel and his steel plate.

However.

Because this is real life and not a comic strip (But that would be funny – right?  Think Calvin & Hobbes meets Family Circus meets one of those serious ones that no one ever actually reads.) sometimes the trips outside can get a little rowdy.

Ryder is still a puppy and he longs for freedom as much as any captive does.

The mornings are generally when he’s most anxious to get out of town and risk a dramatic escape from his leash.

Recently one bathroom trip for the dog looked like this:

London is assigned to puppy patrol.  Ryder does this high skills maneuver where he manages to pull the leash off his entire fluff neck and tries to bolt for Alaska.

I hear cries of needing help and mounting frustration so I send my trusty ten-year-old boy out to help with crowd control.

I hear Bergen’s calls of “I am helping!” followed by some bits of laughter from only one boy and cries of annoyance from several girls.

London returns to the kitchen.

“Mom.  Bergen is not helping,” my informant states.

Enter the Bergen Hawkeye.

His grin slanted, he states “I am helping.”

But London fills me in with necessary specifics.

“Momma,” she says, “He’s running around us while all of us try to catch Ryder and he is not helping.  He’s putting lemon essential oil under our noses.”

My face shows something of what I am feeling and I look at this boy-child of mine.

His smile confirms the veracity of his sister’s statement.

“That IS helping, Mom.  See?  Right here on the oil bottle it says ‘Cheer up buttercup’ and tells you how lemon essential oil can lift your mood.  I was helping lift their moods!”