Deserae and I recently had a houseguest stay for 10 nights. We love having people stay at our house because we’ve got plenty of room, but this guest was a little unusual. Instead of spending his time hanging out and catching up with us, this particular guest decided to devote all of his energy to a bitter, week-long war with my wife.

I am, of course, talking about my parents’ beagle Buzzy.

Because I work at home now, Deserae and I told my parents we could watch their dog while they went away on vacation. Deserae was excited to have a pet in the home, but she had only one rule.

“No jumping on the bed,” she told Buzzy when he arrived at our house.

“Blah blah blah BED,” Buzzy heard.

From that moment forward, Buzzy wanted one thing and only one – to sleep on our bed. Here’s what happened.

Monday

As soon as we started settling in for the night, Buzzy jumped onto our bed. Of course he did – he sleeps with my parents every night. Although he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of staying at a new house, he did seem happy about the opportunity to deposit his hairs all over a king-sized bed and newish-smelling comforter.

“No Buzzy, sorry,” Deserae said as she picked him up. She set him onto his own bed on the floor made of two couch cushions.

“There we go,” I said. “My mom said you only have to tell him once, and he shouldn’t jump up any more.”

“We’ll see about that,” Deserae said.

“We’ll see about that,” Buzzy thought.

Tuesday

We all walked into the bedroom for the night. Deserae started brushing her teeth, and Buzzy curled up on his own bed.

“See,” I said. “He knows.”

But as soon as we climbed into bed, the dog jumped up again.

“No,” I said while reaching for him.

Buzzy wasn’t going easy this time. He wriggled out of my hands and sprinted to the other side of the bed. I ran around to grab him again, expecting him to keep running back and forth. But as soon as he got to the other side of the bed, he curled up real fast and lay down as if to say, “No no no, I’m just trying to clear up a misunderstanding! This is all I wanted to do!”

I scooped him up. “Sorry Buzz,” I said.

“YELP!” Buzzy said.

Wednesday

We would leave the bedroom door closed during the day to keep the dog from taking a siesta on our bed. Wednesday morning, I opened the door to take a shower in our bathroom. I took my shower, and as soon as I turned off the water, I heard the distinct “THUNK jinglejanglejingle” of a dog jumping off a bed and running away.

Thursday

On Thursday night, Buzzy switched tactics from jumping directly onto the bed to standing next to it and whining for 10 minutes. Deserae showed no mercy.

“Sorry Buzzy,” she said as she turned off the light.

When the light turned off, the whining stopped. Then the scratching started.

Scratchscratchscratchscratch

“What’s that?”

Scratchscratchscratchscratch

“THE PILLOWS!”

One of the strangest moments of my adult life was the time Deserae brought home several fancy pillows and instructed me to never put my greasy head on them. “They’re for decoration,” she said.

“For what?!”

Every day, these pillows sit proudly on our bed, and every night, we throw them onto the ground. Their only purpose, as far as I can tell, is to make sure that someone wandering into our room will never say, “Hey! These people don’t have fancy pillows!!” Anyways, Buzzy found a second purpose for them.

Scratchscratchscratchscratch

Deserae turned on the light and sat up.

“Buzz…”

The millisecond Deserae sat up, Buzzy jumped into her spot and ran to the foot of the bed.

“NOOOOO!!!!!”

Friday

On Friday, Buzzy discovered a guest room with a bed that he was allowed to jump on. Hey was lying on this bed when I came to get him.

“Hey Buzzy, want to sleep in our room?”

He jumped off the bed and followed me to our room. When I walked in, he stopped outside the door like he was contemplating something.

“Come on Buzzy, let’s…”

He sprinted for the bed and made it up with a flying leap. I shook my head and picked him up. The second I grabbed him, he screamed. He didn’t bark. Didn’t howl. Didn’t yelp. He screamed like I’d stabbed him through the heart.

When I set him on the floor, he marched defiantly back into the guest room. He didn’t look back. If he had hands, he would have slammed the door behind him. He didn’t sleep in our room that night.

Saturday

Buzzy jumped onto the bed again. Deserae threw him off again. He sulked into the guest room again.

As we were brushing our teeth, Deserae said, “Oooh, that dog is such a pill!”

“Mmhmm.”

Like, he knows that makes me mad, and he does it anyways!”

“I don’t know that he…”

“He knows, Dustin. He knows.”

“OK.”

“You know what? Two can play at this game!”

She wiped her face and marched toward the guest room. “Buzzyyyyyy! Cuddle!”

One of Deserae’s favorite activities in life is cuddling with dogs. Most dogs’ least favorite activity in life is cuddling with Deserae. Buzzy is no exception.

From the other room, I heard, “Oh wittle Buzzy, you’re just a wittle cutie pie you know that?”

“Grrrrrrrrr”

“Ooooh that’s so cute.” Kiss kiss kiss. “Wittle wittle Buzzy.” Kiss kiss kiss.

“Grrrrrrrrr”

Finally after a few minutes of torture, “Serves you right, pill!” SLAM!

Deserae closed the door behind her. If there’s one thing that Buzzy hates more than cuddling with Deserae (and there might not be), it’s getting locked in a room by himself. After we finished getting ready for bed, Deserae let him out. As soon as she opened the door, he ran into our room.

“Hahaha, thaaat’s right,” Deserae said as Buzzy curled up on his bed. She got in his face. “Guess who won that little battle? Point: Deserae.”

Deserae cackled to herself as she turned off the light. In the dark, Buzzy plotted a strategy to win the war.

D-Day (Sunday)

Almost out of obligation, Buzzy jumped onto the bed. Deserae threw him off. Instead of walking to his bed, he curled up on shorts I had lying on the ground.

After we turned off the light, he started scratching.

Jinglejinglejinglejingle

I don’t even know if he was scratching his body. I kind of think he was just hitting the tag on his collar over and over again.

Jinglejinglejinglejingle

All night, we kept waking up to the sound coming from different places in our room.

Jinglejinglejinglejingle

Then 4:45 a.m., a different sound.

Hurk hurk HURK HURK HURK

“Dustin, is the dog throwing up?”

I turned on the light and saw barf all over the ground.

“Yup.”

“GET HIM OUT!”

I opened the door and Buzzy sprinted downstairs. If he barfed again, I thought, maybe he’d do it on the hardwood. I went back into bed and turned off the light. Fifteen minutes later, when we were both almost asleep again…

“BARK! BARK! BARK!”

“Dustin?”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to kill that dog.”

All quiet. Then 15 minutes later: “BARK! BARK! BARK!”

I walked downstairs to see what was so important. The dog was staring at the door like he was about to explode. I took him out, and he did explode all over our yard.

When I came back in, Deserae was getting ready for work. “Hey I think the dog is sick. He’s got diarrhea too.”

“Really? Why?”

“I have no idea.”

That morning, I cleaned up the mess in our room and took Buzzy out two more times. I texted my brother Scott.

“Hey don’t tell Mom, but Buzzy’s got the squirts. Does that ever happen?”

“LOL, never!”

Then I found another pile of puke in our family room. And then another in the living room. This one was green.

I hadn’t worried until the last pile, but the green throw-up made me pull out my phone and Google, “dog throwing up green.” These are the only two comments under the first article that came up:

Oh no. No. No no no. This would not be turning into Marley and Me. Not on my watch. I immediately called the animal hospital down the street.

“Big Creek Animal Hospital, how may I help you?”

“Hi, I’m watching my parents’ dog and he threw up a few times and I wasn’t worried but then he threw up green so I looked online and it was a little concerning and I don’t want to kill him while my parents are gone and can you tell me what to do?”

The nice lady asked me a few questions and determined that I shouldn’t worry yet, but just keep an eye on him.

“His stomach’s going to be sensitive now, so I wouldn’t feed him his regular food,” she said. “Maybe something really mild like boiled chicken or rice.”

“Thank you so much,” I said. Then I hung up and Googled, “How to make rice.”

Buzzy watched from across the room as I slaved over the stove for him. Twenty minutes later, I poured the rice into a little bowl and then some water into another little bowl (But not too much water! Don’t want to upset his stomach!). I brought the two bowls over to where he was lying. Inside, he must have been cackling like a maniac.

Buzzy didn’t try to jump on the bed again after that. He didn’t need to. We all knew who’d won the war.

LIFE LESSON #87

Never wrestle with a dog. You may be bigger, but the dog plays dirtier.