my private ramblings

When I first got the dog, I thought it was quite charming that he barked whenever anyone came close to the door to our apartment. “Hmm…” I thought to myself “That will be quite handy in the event that a bad man ever tries to break in and steal my feminine gold.” Two years, later the barking is not so much charming or handy but rather grounds for euthanasia; especially when it occurs at 2AM, minutes after I’ve finally fallen asleep after spending all night pondering whether my friend Jackie was offended that I slept with her girlfriend. And in fact, I’ve recently realized that the only reason he does it is because he’s too lazy to get up and check on things himself. So instead, he just barks so that I ‘ll get out of my nice warm bed and make sure there aren’t any dognappers or racists lurking outside of our apartment. From now on, I’m thinking about maybe slipping a hefty dose of Ambien into his Alpo.
Puppy go nite nite for e v e r…

Another problem I’m having with the dog is that he seems to think he’s the man of the house. This might be because I continually tell him that he’s the man of the house and/or because he actually is. But nonetheless, sir, pooping on the rug is not okay. The best part is that I’ll catch him, mid poop. He’ll just finish, look at the poop, and then give me a look like: “That shit was there when I got here.” Now, regardless of his feelings about the rug (which he might think is hideous) this is not an appropriate response. Constructive feedback would be a great deal more helpful and a great deal less disgusting.

These days, in an attempt to tame his wild ways, I’ve turned to television– specifically Supernanny (cable television and the Dog Whisperer remain out of budget at present). Per Jo’s advice, I’ve starting utilizing the naughty corner technique. Unfortunately, 2 seconds after I’ve put him in the corner, he’s gone. The next thing I know, his furry little face is plastered all over the eleven o’clock news, and then it’s like: “Great, not only is he not denaughtified but now I’ve got to go and post bail.” Thanks a lot Supernanny– you owe me $935 and the bus fare to Rikers.