Give Thanks That This Isn't Your Dog or Amazing But Totally Disgusting Dog Tricks

As some of you know, we adopted a 4 year-old Maltese about 2 weeks ago from a local humane group. The Maltese was described by his foster mother as friendly, housetrained, and completely non-aggressive with both people and other dogs. After meeting him twice, we liked him, brought him home, and named him Robin Goodfellow aka "Puck," after the mischievous spirit in Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream.

Oh, how names are fate! Our little Puck has turned our home into his own private urinal as well as leaving us several other more materially substantial "gifts" on our carpet. He has a penchant for chewing, whether it be dog toys, chew treats, napkins, grass, trash, Chapstick, or hands. His preferred manner of greeting new people is to growl menacingly, which considering his diminutive size, makes him sound like Gizmo from Gremlins (another name we considered and luckily rejected; Gizmo tried to kill people!) Both my husband and I have been bitten several times by our little non-aggressive dog for the unpardonable sins of 1. attempting to remove garbage from his mouth before he swallowed it  2. trying to move him from the top of the couch to a cushion so he wouldn't fall  3. leaning over him to kiss.  In other words, if we do anything to irk this dog, back off or prepare to be bitten. If we had a small child in our house, he would have gone back to the rescue group already, but I am trying to study up on dog training and have contacted the group to see if someone can help. I hate to send him back and have the abandonment cycle start all over again.

Today, our little doggie wonder displayed a new talent so truly awesome and amazing that I was speechless. We were having family over for Thanksgiving dinner and the table had been set on Wednesday evening. Today, my daughter, bless her observant nature, asked me, "Mom, did you put something in one of the glasses on the table?" Odd question. Why would I do that? Then, slowly, a thought formed in my brain. I tried to fight it, but it kept reaching for consciousness. Puck. "No effing way," I thought. Then I went in the dining room, peered into the glass in question, and the evidence was indisputable. PEE. IN THE GLASS. Mind you, there was no disturbance of any china, no wet spots on the table cloth, nothing else amiss. This was truly incredible. Somehow he had managed to jump up on the table, lift his leg, aim his little pecker, and pee directly into my glassware! It was just like giving a urine sample! If it weren't so absolutely disgusting, I'd be proud of the little guy.

For those who don't believe this story, I have the pictures. Yes, I took pictures because I'm that type of person. And yes, I washed and disinfected the glass and all the dishes around it.. And no, I didn't tell any of our guests!

Wondering what to drink with the turkey? Monsieur Puck has a suggestion.