Dog House

We got Hardie, our 3 ish beagel-bassett type mix, from the Maryland SPCA in June.  He has, for the most part, been the ideal dog for us: his exercise needs are manageable and he keeps himself busy with his extensive slurping, gnawing grooming rituals.  Moreover, though I try to prevent my son's bad behaviour, Hardie lets Winton grab him from behind, kneel on him, explore the pads of his feet and yell into his ears.  He's a good dog.  And unlike our previous dog, he likes encountering other dogs when we are out walking.  It's still a surprise and relief not to have to cross the street to avoid other dog walkers.

However, Hardie is also an inscrutable beast.  He is disconcertingly un-emotive.  With droopy lips and ears, and eyes the colour of chestnuts, he always looks mildly sad: this is not a dog who smiles, looks inquisitive, or perks up his ears.  He has a long, low, mini-keg of a torso which doesn't bend: this is not a frolicksome dog, or one whose body arcs side-to-side when he wags his tail.  His tail is typically poised like a  handle on a delft-ware mug.  He is Bartleby the Scrivener  in his resistance to our efforts to train him.  Mild, yet immoveable.  Sit?  I prefer not. 

When he first came to us, the only indication that he was upset about the transition was vomit.  Unexpected vomit.  No prefatory shiftiness or unease.  Just Hardie standing still, looking mild.  And then Hardie standing still looking mild over a large, clear puddle (sometimes including bloated cheerios or goldfish crackers clearly recently pilfered from Winton). 

I had wanted to get an adult dog so that we wouldn't need to toilet train a new dog as well as Clara and Winton.  Hardie has been unpredictable in this regard.  He is mostly terrific about continence at home.  Though suspect about elimination on the dogwalks, he has turned our backyard (and vegetable garden) into a rank poop field that you can now smell indoors if you leave the back windows open a crack.  Sometimes though, he pees in odd places and I don't understand why.  Eg  a few weeks ago: THE COUCH.  Why??

This morning I was in the throes of getting Clara, Winton and I ready to leave the house.  This involves herding everyone upstairs to use the toilet (Clara, Me), change into work clothes (Me), and get a clean diaper (Winton).  Typically this takes a very long time as I am the only one keen to get any of this stuff done.
Clara is VERY proud to have been pull-up free, even at night,  for two whole days.  And very proud that the extra blankets I put on her bed, just in case, have been unnecessary.  I am very proud too (and relieved).  This is a HUGE deal.

 This morning Clara was tired (the result of a late day yesterday because I had to stay at school late for a faculty meeting and then our evening routine--hampered by everyone's more than usual tiredness and urgency--got pushed back later and later).  She consented to peeing, only on the grounds that she could then go lie in her bed for a few minutes while I got myself dressed and Winton re-diapered.  Sure, I said.
Clara pees, wipes, washes hands.  Exits bathroom.  Enters bedroom and begins screaming.

Hardie had carefully moved her preventative pee blankets to the floor and peed on her mattress.  And then, for good measure, peed on the blankets, and then peed AGAIN on the carpet next to her bed which is where I found him, looking mild in spite of Clara's quite justified opera of protest, when I came running to investigate.  Bastard.  Why??