I’m mad at my grand-dog. So much so that I’ll be referring to him as my son’s dog.

For the past few weeks I’ve put my son’s dog out every morning for a couple of hours so he can enjoy the cool morning air and get some exercise early in the day. Otherwise, he would lay on the bed all day and sleep. My son’s dog is a German Shepard mix and is, therefore, a bit on the LARGE side. Because of that, along with not getting much exercise, he has gained a bit too much weight.

Did I mention that my son’s dog has his own room? What used to be our guest room, became Don and Cody’s room a while back. Recently, when my son Don moved to be closer to his work, it became Cody’s room, excuse me, my son’s dog’s room. So, until Don finds an apartment for himself and his dog, my son’s dog is staying with us. Initially I was OK with but my son’s dog has become a door buster.

The rules have changed. But what annoys me most is the my son’s dog changed the rules — not me!

I’ve always known that he was an ‘air conditioning boy’ and preferred the comfort of a queen sized bed, the gentle breeze from the ceiling fan, and constant air conditioning. For his added comfort he has fresh food, clean water, and an occasional peanut butter-filled bone. All this I would do for my grand dog — but for my son’s dog? I, too, can change the rules.

Several years ago, my husband put a metal grate over our back door to protect it from dog nails and jumping-up-and-down scratches. (We have four dogs of our own so we knew the door would take a beating.) That grate worked successfully for thirteen years.

Then Destructo Dog figured out how to rip off the metal grate door covering. Destructo Dog put his teeth in the metal grate then rip it off because he wanted in the house. He ripped it off so many times that we decided to change it from metal to plexiglass. With the slick plastic he had nothing to grip — with teeth or with claws. Bob and I were so proud of ourselves because we solved the problem. Pricey but affective, or so we thought.

Enter our new challenge. Now my son’s dog grabs a wooden part of the back door with his teeth and pulls it off. See photo below.

We’ve had several dogs since 1995 and none of them have EVER torn up a door the way Destructo Dog has.

It is annoying to have to stop everything and FIX this door immediately, which has to be done because it holds the door in its frame. I fixed it Wednesday and thought that would be the end of it.

A family pow wow ensued. We decided that I would put him out for only thirty minutes instead of leaving him out for the morning.

This morning I went to let him, after only thirty minutes, and found that he had ripped the wood frame off — again.

Our next steps? We’re not sure. Yes, our son is paying for all this. No, my son’s dog still has to stay with us until Don finds a place for them to live. (I’m mad at him, but I’ll never put him in harm’s way.)

Stay tuned for developments, challenges, and solutions. It’s never dull out here at the farmhouse.