Painting with dogs

So here I am, trying to paint my side porch and steps. Normally it wouldn't be a big job to spread latex stain on the porch, but I hadn't counted on getting "help" from Lagniappe the wonder dog.

I call him the wonder dog because sometimes I have to wonder what he's using for a brain.

Anyway, I start to paint on the porch and Lagniappe's in the house. He scratches on the closed back door but I tell him to knock it off because I'm trying to paint on the other side. A minute goes by, and then he jumps up against the door and hits the latch. The door swings open and bangs me in the head. I lose my balance and put a hand down in the fresh paint. I curse Lagniappe with a loud "Dammit!" then I slam the door shut and notice the new hand-print on the door. Yup. I'd just used the hand that I'd put in the paint.

So I grab a breath, clean my hand, compose myself, clean the door with paint thinner, and begin to paint again. However about five minutes later I learn that the door hadn't latched when I swatted it shut. How do I find out? Simple: the door swings open about a foot and a tennis ball is dropped out of the opening. It's meant as a gift and/or an invite to play but of course it lands right in the fresh paint.

I push the door shut again and this time I hear the latch click. And I make sure not to get any paint on it this time. I pick up the ball and throw it into the yard and immediately realize that the ball is covered in paint. Son of a... The dog got me again via that stupid ball.

I clean my hand off again and resume painting.

All goes well for a few minutes, and I almost forget that I have a dog when suddenly another tennis ball comes out of nowhere and bounces through the fresh paint. What the...?

I look up and Lagniappe is now standing on my raised deck looking down on me. My sliding door from the house to that deck was open and he'd found another tennis ball somewhere and launched it at me through the deck rails.

I holler at him and use a few words that no parent or dog owner should use and he takes off around the corner. He knows that I'm mad now and I figure he'll hide or sulk for a bit and hopefully that'll give me time to finish this job. I touch up the spots where the ball bounced and resume working on the steps.

All is quiet for the next half hour or so. I'm almost done and I'm feeling good because it's looking sharp. Suddenly I hear feet in the leaves and I look up and there's Lagniappe behind me. He'd apparently opened the basement door and gone down the steps and out the door that leads from my walk-in basement to the driveway. I don't want to stop now to screw with him because I'm just about done, so I tell him to sit down. Instead, he takes a couple of steps forward and puts a paw smack down on the lid to the paint can that's sitting on a flagstone near me. Of course the lid is bottom side up and covered with paint, and his big paw is now covered with paint.

I meant to say "Lagniappe, I wish you hadn't done that." I really meant to say that, However it came out as: "You ASS!" And in dog language, that means: "On your mark...get set...GO!" He spun and took off like a rocket, leaving a trail of paint paw prints as he ran. And he was running straight for the open basement door again.

Envisioning my basement floor, steps, and living room hardwood floor covered with brown dog paw prints, I yelled "Noooo!" This didn't stop him though but fortunately I got a bright idea just as he reached the door. Picking up a nearby stick, I whistled and threw the stick down the driveway. This did the trick because, just as people have a "flight or fight" response that kicks in when they get excited, dogs have a similar response--the "flight, fight, or chase sticks" response. The stick-chasing drive is by far the strongest in this dog and he forgot all about being in trouble and changed course away from my house to pursue the stick. He grabbed it and brought it back to me, and I had to set the paint brush down for a minute and play a few rounds of "fetch" with him. Then I cleaned his paw with paint thinner and penned him up in his run (where I probably should have put him in the first place) until I was done. He didn't care for this but he forgave me after a few more tosses of the stick. He's really not a bad dog... but if brains were dynamite he wouldn't have enough to blow his nose.