Huxley and the reason puppies are worse than babies

So most of you know that we have been having a hard time with the neighbor below us who just moved in. If you didn't know that then you do now! She complained about our dogs barking all day while we were at work. They barked because we had them kenneled or sectioned off in the hallway. Schnauzers don't really do well in confined spaces. So to appease our neighbor we decided, Huxley is doing well with potty training, what could possibly go wrong? Cleaning up pee and poo isn't really that difficult on hardwood floors but chewing on our furniture isn't so nice. Especially when it's *as Jaime would say* Italian Leather Furniture... or as Jaime actually did say "Your dog owes me $12,000". Bummer.
Just so you know the dog didn't chew the leather, he chewed the wood around it which we are still deciding on. I've been sanding and staining back to look like normal, Jaime would rather I hire a wood-crafts-man to re-carve us some furniture. Since we hardly had enough money for groceries I think that the staining might have to work for us for a few years until I can get my own savings account.
Huxley had a doctor's appointment where he patiently got his nails clipped and a needle stuck in his butt. He's a very calm dog in the right circumstances. We explained to our vet what was going on, we can't kennel him because he barks so dad gum much but we can't leave him out because he chews on everything. She then spoke the wise words of wisdom that I am anxious to try... before you leave feed him one tablespoon of Baby Benedryl and put him in his crate in a different room than the other dog so they don't upset each other. Drug him!? Genius! We promptly went to the drug store, bought our benedryl and then got a crate for him. No more hallway for Huxley. Jaime told Huxley while we shopped that it's not that he's a bad dog, it's that he doesn't know any better.
The point, you may ask, of the title is this. Jaime and I both had to leave this evening to run errands or play Gears of War II.. I'll let you figure out who did what. I was going to be gone no more than 45 minutes. Jaime and I decided we should try out the crate! So we put a towel and an old T-shirt in there with some toys and bribed Huxley in. He didn't really have a problem with it. I then shut the door to the walk in closet, turned our TV on in the bedroom and then shut that door. Turned the TV on in the living room and said bye bye to Churchill. Insert grocery shopping. When I got home I didn't hear much over the TV. When I got to the bedroom I could hear his faint pitiful cry. Churchill was super anxious about that. The one thing that really alerted me was the smell of poo... very strong smell of poo.
Babies poo. Everyone poos! But babies wear diapers. And usually babies don't spray poo all over the inside of their crate. Babies also don't tear out of said crate when you open the door and run around your apartment with poo on their feet. But you know what, in a perfect world this would have happened on a night when our water actually worked. Too bad we had no water. I sat for the next hour on the couch with a sheet on it with a poopy dog while the bath tub filled up drip by drip. I also made some cookies and planted some ivy in planters on the porch but mostly I remember the dripping of the faucet and the smelly smelly puppy crying on the couch.
Gross.
Jaime cleaned out the crate because he is my savior and I took a picture of the poo bag just to prove how messy it was. And while I was writing this entire entry my wonderful husband was pacing the apartment saying "It smells like poo" only he used a different more special word. I quite agree.
No matter how innocent he looks it's all a lie.