June Aggression

Charlie the dog blog

June Gloom is here and I am begging the sun to come out. The weather affects us, and Ambers broken foot isn't helping. I want to hike, and play ball, and run around. However, we can't always do what we want to do, and sometimes God steps in and stops us. In this case it's the weather, and broken foot. Sascha dog went after another dog today and Amber is certain it's because she needs to walk more. Aggression is a manifestation of fear, which we all have. We need to just take the next right action, and do the best we can regardless of the universe giving us other plans. Allie is in town and that makes us chipper, happy, and full of excitement. We are waiting for the clouds to go away-- and are making plans for the sun! Dating...dating on the other hand has been alot more complicated.

I would prefer to chew on a nice big juicy bone, but if a bone isn’t available I’m perfectly happy eating poop. I’m a dog, it’s what I do, I eat poop. For my two legged human, Amber, taking what’s “just available” could cause emotional distress, indigestion, and a lot of humiliation. She can’t just accept whatever poop-head that’s lying around, she has to learn to choose what she wants in a partner, or she will get what she has been getting, which is a pile of warm smelly and hazardous waste. My human needed to figure out what she wanted. She dated so many different untrained men, that by the time she hit her dating “low point” all bets were off, and the stink was starting to show. She was as pathetic as Bridget Jones before she found true love. My human let her boundaries down, and instead of getting love for being “just as she is” the men she dated would push the boundaries to see what they could get away with. Most of the time they got away with a lot, as my sad girl scrambled to figure out why she wasn’t getting what she felt she deserved. She had failed at love and had a past she regretted. Her human journey became my own personal canine project. She was acting like a pussy (cat) when it came to getting what she truly needed and wanted. Avoiding dating all together was not an option, so it was time to take a real hard look at what wasn’t working before she could figure out what would.

“When a dog wags her tail and barks at the same time, how do you know which end to believe?” – Anonymous

I covered my eyes with my paws one evening after my human had been texting one of her crushes from work. This man had not paid her any special attention, and after the breakup of a relationship with a loser (still living with his mommy) she wanted this new crush to give her significance she had no patience to earn. The new fantasy guy texted her telling her he wasn’t in a place to pursue a new relationship, but to send “sexy picks” to his email anyway “just for the fun of it.” That should have been the first red flag for her, and “double dog dares” should be left for..well, dogs. Any moron could see she should “run, don’t walk away” and stay away from her texting frenzy, but my human really liked the guy. She wanted to impress him. She put on her best bikini, took the pic, and sent it off to his mobile phone memory and waited for a lifetime of love to begin. She was looking for praise while demonstrating bad behavior. If I become a nuisance, barking non-stop like a hyena, or chew up a good Prada shoe, I am not going to be rewarded for it. Doesn’t the same apply to stupid humans? Should they expect positive results for being bad? No. No. No. Bad girl. She was fizzling faster than an alka seltzer, and just watching her drown made me need some. She tried every tactic she could think of, the same as barking up the tree for a nut, and nothing happened. She never heard back from him, but had to face him again on Monday, at work, where she hid her face behind her computer. Don’t send sexy pics to co-workers. Duh. Even a bitch knows this, but my human didn’t and she paid the price, and there was no treat as a result. Realizing that it is okay that everybody isn’t going to like you is a big step. Doing things to destroy the potential of being respected was lame, but beating yourself up for a mistake is even more lame-o. Brush it off like makeup, and move on.

“Even the tiniest Poodle or Chihuahua is still a wolf at heart.”- Dorothy Hinshaw Patent, Dogs: The Wolf Within

When I was a puppy my human did everything she could to try and get me to act as she wanted. She took me outside to pee, and I would pee on the carpet indoors instead, I would bark, she would yell, I would run away, and she would chase me, tripping over bushes and stepping in poop to try and get my attention, and to train me to be a good bitch. It was great fun watching her stress out over me, and I had all of her attention, but she had none of mine. One summer day at the fun and beautiful dog park, she let the leash go, and I took off running like a greyhound. I ran and ran, and enjoyed the wind in my ears. I loved this freedom, and wanted to be as far from my controlling human as I possibly could. She was always there, no matter what I did. She was such a nag, and I knew she never gave up on me, and would be there waiting for me when I was finished. I was free to do whatever I wanted, and her love was unconditional. I drove her insane, and I didn’t care. I’m her bitch, and it was my way or else. Amber was yelling like a shrieking, panicked, desperate woman, as she usually did when I ran away, and I didn’t give her an ounce of attention. I knew she would continue buzzing after me, and that in a moment she would catch me and spank me as I yelped to be free, humiliated when all the Great Danes in the park laughed at me for getting caught. It was the game we played, and I would not change for anything. It was far more interesting to do my own activities of humping, jumping, barking, just knowing she was there. I sniffed other dog’s asses, chased bright-flashing cars, and ate poop like it was peanut butter ice cream. It was a great frolic until she finally caught up to me, and with a tail between my legs, she made a fool of herself, and me, as she scolded me for being me, and we left the park. This cycle was our habit. Over and over again until one day everything changed. It took different debates however, and teaching an old bitch new tricks took practice.

It was a humid and hot day outside, but we returned to the park. This time she brought treats to bribe me with. Bribery works in tricky ways. Instead she got the attention of all the mixed breeds, as they ate the jerky, licked her, and went on with their day of smelling each other, and growling at her for more. I was tired of her bribery, and harassment and I continued to play. I still could hear her yelling after me until her voice was cracking, and so was her invisible whip as she yelled “get over here NOW” as she patted her knee’s sternly. I ignored her. I ignored her bribery. Then something happened. I couldn’t hear her yelling at me. I didn’t know where she was, and suddenly she was gone. I panicked. None of the other dogs in the park mattered. Nothing mattered. I wanted her there, but she was nowhere in sight. I needed my human. My tail stopped wagging, and I began to whine and howl. Just when I thought there was no hope, I spotted her. She was leaving. She had given up on me. I chased her quickly, and was at her heel in a moments notice, letting her take the lead, as I followed her home. I was so happy my human didn’t leave me.

“I’ve seen a look in dogs’ eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts. “ – John Steinbeck

There is little difference between dogs, and men. All men do not act like dogs, but some do. They don’t want to be harassed, and chased, and stalked, or bribed. They want a woman who does her own thing. We as dogs will follow a pack leader, and so will men. Pack leaders just make things go their own way, but they do it in a way that is only known to human nature. My human was trying to train her dates to sit, stay, and roll over, but she had no idea how to do it. Certainly men could be trained, but how? Dog’s under pressure will panic, and run. She was flopping around like an untrained canine that needed a good bone, and she was doing the dating deal without any dignity at all. It was a joke to witness, but as her best friend and companion for life, I loved her unconditionally. She would never get her own Mr. Right if she kept acting so desperate, and not valuing herself. She would overcompensate in anyway she could and all it suggested is one thing. She was a pushover. A pack leader doesn’t devalue herself. She won’t kill herself chasing a man down, desiring to get her own way through a shrieking yelp of desperation. Hey, does she want to be an old bag lady, with a million cats, living alone forever? I am a bitch, and I despise cats. I certainly don’t want that, and neither should she. So she needs to STOP CHASING AFTER A BONE, do her own thing, and wait for them to come to her.

My human met a good-looking guy in college. He was an artist. He was hot. He was a “troubled brooding, and deep” sort of chaos. He lived in a motor- home and moved around from spot to street, and was not in any place to have a relationship anyone he said. Amber thought he was awesome, and took it as her own job to change his mind. She bribed him into liking her by draining her savings decorating his motor home with fluffy pillows, art deco, candles, and of course, framed pictures of herself. Gag. She wanted to leave her mark on his motor home and she wanted to be thought of every day. One day, she drove to the last spot the motor home was, with a nice surprise (lingerie and tacos) and the home was gone. She called and called his cell phone, but there was no answer. She did everything wrong in this situation, bribery, giving away the bone, and was always available. I have my own pillow to lay my head on and I would never share it with other Bitch’s that just came over to re-decorate my pad.

I am possessive over my resting spot. I like it the way it is. Leave it the Fuck alone. He was gone. Some weeks later she saw the motor home parked across the street from the school. She parked her car a block away and stalked, listening to “their song” on her radio. After she almost killed me with bad lovers music, and I had to get out to pee, the motor-home door opened, and out walked a skinny blond, hand in hand with Mr. Jerk off. Amber was so sad, but she deserved every tear she cried. What kind of dumbass re-decorates a mans place, even if it was a moving home on wheels? Bribery, and gifts are for Bitch’s to not pee on the rug, and to come when people call. It rarely works for us, and it doesn’t work with men, obviously. I ran to bark up the leg of Mr. Wrong and the cute little blond pet me, wiping half of her spray on tan on my fur. My human grabbed me up, tail between legs, and ran to her car. After stalking his Myspace page like a crazy loon, she saw that Mr. wrong was “in a relationship” with the new blond and her tan. That girl was sleeping on my human girls pillows, and her bank account and heart suffered for it. She had tried to use bribery to get his love. It didn’t work. After a week we stopped listening to “their song” and curled up together with a cup of latte, and my lonesome human was single again.


Lessons of Paw:
* Don’t settle for poop, wait for the big juicy bone.
* Choose what you really want in a partner.
*Barking up the wrong tree will only get you a nut.
*Bribery doesn’t work.
* Dogs and men under pressure will panic and run.
* Stop chasing.
* Be a pack leader, not a follower.

“To Err is human, to forgive, canine”- Unknown






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Charlie the dog blog