Memories of the Heart Blog

I’m beginning to suspect that I’m not the best leader of the pack. I’ve been reading Cesar Milan’s magazine and watching some of his television shows and he’s the greatest. I admire what he does. But as I look at my pack leading skills I realize I need a lot of training.

My pack consists of two dogs, a collie named Sophie and a beagle named Spencer. It first came to my attention that I was having a problem when I couldn’t stop Spencer from dragging kleenex from the bathroom wastebasket onto the carpet. (We’ve had Spencer for a couple of years and this has always been a problem). I tried. “Spencer, I don’t want you to do that,” I would say. “Tell him No! He doesn’t understand what you’re saying,” my husband would suggest (and still does). “He doesn’t know what No means either,” I respond. Spencer has a mind of his own. He doesn’t mind being scolded a little if he gets to do what he wants. Well, to avoid any disciplinary action I got a taller wastebasket. Problem solved. I realized that part of the problem is that I’m probably not smart enough to be a dog owner.

Then there’s the issue of whether or not the dogs will ever go outside. Every now and then they actually have to go to the bathroom and they ask. And they’re mostly outside when we’re gone, which isn’t very much. Other than that, they pretty much want to be in the house with us. But sometimes I feel like they should get some exercise (Spencer weighs almost as much as Sophie, he always has) so I say, “Everybody out.” And the dogs look at me. At least they give me that much. They don’t get up, mind you. “Everybody out,” I say again. Nothing. Then I start to sound like a tired parent who doesn’t want to stand up to correct their child. “Everybody out! Everybody out! EVERYBODY OUT!”

Eventually they will go out but by then my good mood has been tested and I’m very glad I’m not raising small children.

The other thing is that they beg for a treat every morning when I sit down at my computer. Well behaved dogs shouldn’t beg. They should wait for a signal from the pack leader. But my dogs sit and stare at me or whine at me or jump around until I get the message and give them their treats. But we have come to an understanding. They only get treats once (or twice) a day and that’s it. I mean it. That’s the only thing that saves me. I control all the food.

I realize that my dogs and I have an agreement. They will be loving, friendly, congenial and mostly well behaved and I won’t put any real pressure on them. Which means I’m not putting any real pressure on myself. Thank goodness I have such nice dogs or they would be running the show even more than they are. At least now I get to be the facilitator of our little group. But that’s okay. It works for us.

Darn it, I can hear Spencer dragging trash out of the bedroom wastebasket.