Saturday, March 13, 2010

Chapter ONE

A BITCH’S GUIDE TO DATING: Everything you should know about men and dogs.

(Written by Charlie the dog)
with Amber Dawn Lee



“Things that upset a terrier may pass virtually unnoticed by a Great Dane” – Smiley Blanton


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 bitch, a real dog. It’s what I do. I eat poop. For my two legged human master, taking what’s “just available” could cause emotional distress, indigestion, and a lot of humiliation. My master does this when it comes to dating and I whimper every time it happens. For her poop and men are one in the same and she has no idea how to pick the right one. Her picker is broken. She can’t just accept whatever poop (man) that’s lying around the neighborhood looking steamy and hot, she has to learn to choose what she wants in a partner, and find a real prize of a fellow or she will get what she has been getting, which is a pile of warm smelly and hazardous waste. I know it sounds bold to compare men to poop. All men are not this way, just the one’s she spent the last few years dating.

My master 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, and I was tired of biting ankles as they walked out the door. Men don’t usually come trained, and just like dogs, they need to learn the rules.

My master 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, and just like bubble gum my master would stretch this way and that to become what they wanted her to be. Most of the time they got away with a lot of bad behavior, as my sad girl scrambled to figure out why she wasn’t getting what she felt she deserved back. She was lonely. She was lonely even when she was on a date. She had failed at love and had a past dating roster she was too ashamed to brag about. Her journey became my own personal canine and master 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. You have to know where you are to know where the journey begins.

“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 master had been texting one of her crushes from work. My master had a good career and this was not appropriate behavior in any way, shape or form. Do not poop where you eat! It gets even worse. This man had not paid her any special attention, and after my masters breakup of the prior loser (still living with his mommy at 35) she wanted this new crush from work to give her significance she had no patience to earn or even give herself. The new fantasy guy from work returned a text stating 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.” What this means is “I don’t like you but I will look at your boobs if you send pictures, and I may even show my friends” This also means “You are acting like a moron so I’ll treat you like a moron.”

That should have been the first red flag for her, and “double dog dares” should be left for..well, for dogs. Any human could see my master should “run, don’t walk away” and stay away from any sort of texting frenzy and go have ice cream and calm down with a good movie. My master really liked the guy, she wanted him to “fill her heart up with romance” and ride off into the sunset and do everything the last guy who lived with mom couldn’t. She wanted to impress him, seduce him, love him, marry him, and ride off into the sunset. She thought that if she could impress him with the right picture angles, and airbrushed photos, and maybe a “sparkly text” to follow up the pictures, she may have a shot and he may change his mind and suddenly want a relationship with my master. After all, my human paid a lot for her breasts, she should show them, right? She put on her best bikini, sprayed on a stinky lotion tan, put makeup on her pimples, took the pic, and sent it off to his mobile phone memory and waited for a lifetime of love to begin. Wedding bells filled the valley as she waited to hear back from him and I curled up beside her as she looked at wedding dresses online. She was in fantasy land. Psycho fantasy land. It was a fantasy psycho land and my owner was oblivious as she flipped through Bridal websites dreaming up the perfect dress. She was looking for praise from the dude at work, while demonstrating bad behavior. “Bad Girl!” I growled. That sort of thing needs to be left for the dogs. It was too late, the pictures were out in cyberland.

If I become a nuisance, barking non-stop like a hyena, or chewed up a good Prada or Gucci shoe, I am not going to be rewarded for it. Doesn’t the same apply to stupid humans? My master learned lessons the hard way. Should peeps expect positive results for being bad? No. No. No. Bad girl. My master was fizzling faster than an alka seltzer, and just watching her drown in bad behavior made me need some alka seltzer. She tried every tactic she could think of, the same as barking up the tree for a squirrel who just wants to play games. She never heard back from him, but had to face him again on Monday, at work, where she hid her face behind her notebook as she sat in a business meeting. He never even texted or called her. Why? Because again, bad behavior doesn’t get you a treat, it get’s you shit. This wasn’t the end of her dating life though. She had many experiences dating, and as her best friend, and cuddler I knew that the men were guinea pigs, and that through every experience comes a big lesson, and a lesson means she was a step closer to finding true love, without restraining orders. She escaped the men but not without heartbreak and injury, and with Los Angeles as a dating playground the best was yet to come. So was the worse.

Realizing that it is okay that “everybody isn’t going to like you” is a big step in being proactive in your dating behavior. Doing things to destroy the potential of being respected was lame, but beating yourself up for a mistake is even more lame-o. It’s like beating a dog like me for pooping on the floor hours earlier, I have already forgotten the lesson, and now it’s just a beating. Brush it off like bad makeup, and move on. An old poet once said “We first make our habits, then our habits make us.” A bad habit usually deserves another bad habit. They can be a recipe for disaster if not stopped. They pile on each other and before we know it, we need a good lock up in the pound.

So, why did I decide to put paws to paper and write this book? I felt that there was a lot to learn from my master and her dating disasters and wins. It’s a jungle out there and if you don’t do things carefully you’re going to get your tail bit off.

What are some of your bad habits? Do you hang out with poop rather than wait on a big juicy bone? You deserve the bone. We all do.

“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 and behave 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. She would chase me, tripping over bushes and making a fool of herself all in the name of “training.” I wasn’t always 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 dog park, my master let the leash off, and I took off running like a full blooded greyhound even though I’m a five pound shih-tzu. I didn’t just run in circles, I ran zig-zags, I ran circle-eights. I ran and ran, and enjoyed the wind in my ears, and ran some more. I loved this freedom, and wanted to be as far from my master as I possibly could. She was always there no matter what I did and I liked my freedom. I was free to do whatever I wanted, and her love was unconditional. I knew she would always be there waiting for me when I was done, so I kept her waiting.
She would clap, and scream, and yell for me to come back but I just perked my ear, and ran the other way. 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 real Great Danes in the park snickered at me for getting caught by my master. It was the game we played, and I would not change for anything. I ran off, she ran after me. It was far more interesting to do my own activities of humping, jumping, barking, just knowing she was there and the consequences would be small. I sniffed asses, chased toys, and humped park benches. I ran and ran. I loved the dog park. This cycle was our habit. One day everything changed. Now your wondering what this has to do with dating? Keep reading. You will have an “aha” moment just as my master and I did.

It was a humid and hot day outside, but we returned to the park a week later. This time she brought treats to bribe me with after I ran away. 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, I knew this game, and I continued to play and run away. 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 Charlie girl!” as she patted her knee’s sternly. I ignored her. I ignored her bribery. I ran as far as I could to the other side of the park. I knew she would be waiting for me when I came back. 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! My heart started racing as I looked around the large park full of dumb dogs. Where in the heck was my Master? None of the other dogs in the park mattered anymore. 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 the park. She had given up on me. I chased her quickly with my tail between my legs, and was at her heels in a moments notice, letting her take the lead, put the leash back on, and as I followed her to the car I wagged my tail. She was my master. I instantly got rid of the bad habit of running away. The pain of losing my master was intolerable. I knew the rules. 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, or leashed unless they decide they want to be leashed. They want a woman who does her own thing and doesn’t need her. 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. When she walked away that day in the park I knew for certain, she didn’t “need” me anymore, and was tired of my games. Then the roles switched and I needed and wanted her. Certainly men could be trained as I was, but how?

My master started to train me after that. She found that I responded better to rules and the techniques she used for training me can be applied to training a man too. There was little difference between men’s behavior and me when I was acting like a bad dog. The similarities of men and dogs can be both good and bad. They can be your worse enemy, or if trained right they can be your loyal best friend for life and love you unconditionally. There are many breeds of men, narcissists, addicts, religious maniacs, athletes, lovers, cheaters, friends, black, white, Hispanic, short, tall, famous, poor, mean, nice, big and small. Pick carefully.

Dog’s under pressure will panic, and run. Men under pressure will panic, and run. My master was flopping around like an untrained canine that needed a good bone, and she was doing the dating deal without any dignity at all. This was not show-dog business, but this was hood-rat living. It was a joke to witness, but as her best friend and canine companion for life, I loved her unconditionally. She would never get her own Mr. Right if she kept acting so desperate, untrained, and not valuing herself. She would overcompensate in anyway she could and all it suggested is one thing. She was a pushover with bad habits.

A bad habit starts with blaming others for your own problems. Blaming the guy for not acting right, your parents for divorcing and screwing you up, blaming your friends, your teachers, your childhood, your animals. Do not be a victim of bad habits. Do not blame others for reacting to your behavior. If you want a bone, get a bone. Get it by first respecting yourself and getting your own life. Don’t repeat mistakes, learn from them. Get control and improve your relationships. If you listen to what is outlined in this book you will ACE the dating life, just as my master did after many hard knocks.

Some bad habits my master had to overcome:
Being desperate, acting desperate
Making another person the reason for happiness
Not controlling your life
Not living confidently
Not respecting herself
Not having balance between men and other activities
Dating in mass amounts rather than for value
Acting cheap and easy

Grab a pen and paper and write down some of your own bad habits. If you think you don’t have any than you have already started, that is your first bad habit. We are all flawed. Even show dogs have hidden flaws. They just don’t flaunt them. Mark up your paper with bad habits, drawings, outlines, notes. It’s your life, and your future! If you don’t want to write them all down, start small and just write down a few. Then look at the bad habits and you will know exactly what to do next. Write down good future habits you want to create.

New good habits:
Never act desperate
Create your own happiness
Control your own life
Be confident
Respect yourself
Balance dating with other outside activities
Date the kind of men you would want to marry
Don’t act cheap or slutty

Be a pack leader. A leader 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 you. So STOP CHASING AFTER SHIT, AND GO FOR THE BONE. Are your bad habits hurting or helping you? For my master they were hurting her. She dated men who behaved like bad dogs, even worse.

Bad habits put limitations on us. Changing them can bring out the best in us. Practicing your bad habits is not who you are, it’s just like wearing glasses with the wrong prescription. Take them off. Get the right prescriptions.

“Everything about Men I learnt from my dog” – Clare Staples

My master met a good-looking guy in college. He was an artist. He was hot. He was a “troubled brooding, and deep” sort of chaos just like she was. He was her soul mate the moment she met him. He lived in a motor- home and moved around from spot to street, and was not in any place to have a relationship with anyone. My master thought he was awesome, and took it as her own job to save him from his own demons and to ride off to the next parking spot forever.

My master bribed him into liking her by draining her savings account and decorating his motor home with fluffy pillows, art deco, candles, and of course, framed pictures of herself to not just remind him of her, but to tag his motor home as her space in case any other girl showed up. 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 parked. She had a nice surprise (lingerie and turkey tacos) and the motor home was gone. I quickly started sniffing out the trail, but the guy and his home on wheels 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 and gave this artistic dude anything he wanted to “earn” love. 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 mean really, save the decorating for after the marriage, and never, ever, under any circumstances decorate a motor home. She expected this guy to get what she was all about, and realize how great she was for everything kind she did. It wasn’t kindness, it was excuses to get what she wanted and needed too. She was doing things to build his life up and make it better while neglecting her own life and needs at the same time. She had an expectation of him that he never even hinted at delivering. She doubted him from the beginning, remember the self portrait picture center seat in the motor home? The clues are often there and denial doesn’t change the truth.

Some weeks later she saw the motor home parked across the street from campus. She parked her car a block away and stalked, listening to “their song” on her Ipod. After she almost killed me with the overkill of bad lovers music, I had to get out of our stalking car to pee. She wanted to know why he had ignored her calls, after all she had “done” for him. I sniffed around the other car wheels as she looked on desperately as the motor-home door opened, and out walked a skinny blond woman, hand in hand with Mr. Jerk off. Dogs are narcissistic. Some men are narcissistic too. Even when they live in motor homes they can be narcissistic. This guy walked right past us as I urinated and said “yo baby, wh’sup” as he strutted past us with his latest flashy girl who probably got “true love” from Mr. Jerk off on the pillows that my master bought him. I bet the picture of her was taken down too.

My master was sad, but she deserved every tear she cried. I wanted her to hurt from it so she would use the experience to make a change. 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. It rarely works for us dogs, and it doesn’t work with men, obviously. The truth is that the more she centered her life on these men, the more they became unattracted to her. She was building her entire emotional bank on whatever their needs were, and she neglected to have any self care along the way. Her security came from them. Her value came from them. She was always worried about where she stood in the relationships because she was really not a value to the other person. Bribery isn’t value. My master needed to handle her independent emotions outside of dating and take care of herself first. She thought that dating a loser would maybe be a better fit. That obviously didn’t work either.

My master was dating lower companions and then would get upset that “even the loser didn’t want” her. The lessons were just starting, and a shift was about to take place. If she knew then what she does now, she would have saved a lot of tears and heartbreak.

Lessons of Paw:
* Change bad habits
* 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