Does My Breath Smell Like Garlic?: Pay Back

My dog Isabelle and I have been fighting lately. I think a lot of it has to do with the weather, because when it is cold outside, she can't go out. The problem lies in that I know she doesn't want to go out, but she doesn't know this. If I tried to take her out in the snow she would take three steps and stop dead in her tracks because her little princess feet would be too cold. If there is a slight breeze, she can't move forward because obviously something she can't see is touching her, and it is too weird to move. If it is wet she can't walk in the water because it's just too icky. So, she looks out the window and thinks that she wants to go out, but I know better. So who gets the brunt of her pent up frustrations? me. Numero uno. See, Isabelle is a very vindictive little dog. Sure, she looks all little and harmless, but inside that little 10lb frame is a huge, devising brain that seeks to destroy me. I love her- don't get me wrong. But even when we are getting along, I'll tell you she was put on this Earth to teach me a lesson. That lesson would be patience.
When Isabelle is frustrated and taking it out on me, she may shred a tissue into a thousand little pieces on the floor. No big deal. Then she'll drink a bunch of water, jump on the couch, and spit it up all over my blanket. Still, not pleasant, but could be worse. Then she'll start peeing on the carpet just outside the bathroom door where her litter box is...just a couple centimeters from the linoleum. This is where the real "big f-you's" begin. Then, she'll go into her box, take a piece of poop and crumble it all over the carpet right by the pee. Maybe she'll smear it on the bathroom floor while she's at it- just depends on how much time she has. Then she'll pee again (this dog has an endless supply), but this time she will pee on the linoleum directly in front of her box. And as a grand finale to the day, she will vomit in the middle of the night on my clean duvet cover. She should have her own soundtrack.
So you can see how it would be tempting to sell her to the circus, or give her to the homeless guy on the corner, or even just set her outside my door and let some unsuspecting fool find her and fall for that charm that she has. But I can't do that. Because this dog is meant to torture ME until the day she dies. It is her destiny.
Therefore, my only payback is to annoy her. I know she can't understand me when I am yelling at her, and even if she could, she really wouldn't care. So today I was packing up her cabinet of stuff we've accumulated, and I decided to play a little dress up and see how many hats she could wear at once.