Companionship? Nah.
Loyalty? Eh.
Love? Maybe a little.
A snuffling nose in inappropriate spots? Definitely not.
So why DO we have pets?
Why, so we can humiliate them publicly, of course.
In other news, Nick picked up a new anti-bark citronella collar for her yesterday. I had one, but either the battery died or the whole thing jammed within a day. Was very sad, because that first day? It worked great.
We have a new one, and sure enough, it continues to work great. Also, the dog smells pleasantly of oranges, as opposed to the usual Eau de Wet Dog (it’s been raining a lot lately) with a hint of Dog Farts (and sometimes more than a hint…) I’m pretty happy with this.
I don’t want her to stop barking completely. I kind of like that we have an alert dog — there have been some break ins in our building lately, and quite frankly I NEVER feel unsafe when I’m home alone. Nobody in their right mind would try to break in with that ridiculous beast snarling at them. However, she needs to learn when it’s appropriate to bark. One or two alert barks when someone knocks on the door = okay. Every Single Noise EVER = not so much. Barking if me or Nick dares to leave the apartment for a few minutes = not okay. (Oddly, she doesn’t do this in the morning when we leave for work. She only does it during the day or in the evening.)
So, we’re going to start with quelling all barking, and then slowly let her know when it’s okay to bark. Unfortunately, the collar is a little more sensitive than I’d like. It goes off when she does her “pay-attention-to-me” snerts — usually after I’ve been playing warcraft too much. She sits next to my chair, puts her head in my lap, and says “Growf”. I swear, if you transcribed it, that’s exactly how it’d be spelled. Growf. Last night, she sat up looking all pretty and alert, went “Growf” and got a face of citronella. Oh, the shame. She looked so sad that I immediately took her out for a walk.
Poor little snert.
Growf?
Curses! Wrong link. here is the right one.