Charlywalker's Blog











{January 4, 2010}   Don’t Blog the Hand that Feeds You

I did it. I lost it with my pup. He bit me. I rolled up the Landenberg Herald and gave him a swat to that spotted behind. Then I went to confession. I could have grabbed Mr. Millan’s manual but it was to thick and too calming for my nature and could cause permanent damage.  One EDO mentioned the “newspaper method” to me months ago as a training technique, but I felt it would tarnish my dog’s eighth amendment. Or my pup would speed dial the dog authorities and  DSS ( dog social services) would be at my door. My dog nipped my leg and left his mark. It hurt. I have never hit anything except a tennis ball. I did thwack my sons tuschie one time although is was filtered by a hefty pull-up and puffy snow pants. His response was a stunned  glare with a smirk, followed up with acute verbiage of: ” Ha! That didn’t even hurt”.  I felt ridiculous and repented my punitive damages. My doggie however responded in a style that would meet with  Barbara Woodhouse’s approval. He stopped mid canter and gave me the eagle eye. I gave it back like Eastwood in a Fist Full of Dollars. Only I held the Times in my right hand and a cappuccino in my left. (East meets West).  I think we remained in this state for about five minutes ( three seconds in puppy time) waiting for someone to make a move. Usually  in a face off or a gunfight at high noon someone draws first and the other reacts. In this scenerio if I drew first  I would lose so I let the dog make the first move by just standing there.  I watched him like the hawks outside our house circling for that field mouse. I waited more patiently than a Dingo eyeing Baby Roo in the Outback.  I cocked my head just like Dirty Harry and did my own dog whispering: Do you feel lucky punk? Well do  ya?  You ask yourself was it one swat I gave or is there another one in the chamber…. After the stalemate I uttered a few words to Charly. Words direct in tone, stone cold, without emotion that will penetrate through his recently Q-tipped ears: ” You ever think of biting me again I will send you back to TrailerParksville. I will resume my life, pre-puppy, that encompassed socializing in upscale restaurants( sans barking), bathing regularly, freely coming and going without concern of my return time, getting properly dressed before seven a.m., wearing designer clothes again, (non chewable), leave my shoes out in plain view, donate those doggie toys to less fortunate puppies who can squeak til their hearts content, and sit at the dinner table in peace masticating a tender filet mignon with a reduced Cabernet sauce smothered with mushrooms. Oh I will I will..”

While in the midst of my soliloquy, Charly sauntered over to me and did a figure eight between my legs like a cat that requires affection. He was either repenting or feared for his life because his master had gone nuts and he now has to talk her off the ledge. Or maybe the  one  command of Trailer park sparked his interest.  Whatever the case he made the first move which is something Mr. Millan mentions in his Whispering Heights. The secret to success.

Shhhhhhhhh….. don’t tell Charly, pass it on.

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