We got a new puppy this year because our daughter loves dogs so much; plus we thought it would wear out our peanut too. (Flashback: Day one – “Hope this dog wears out Gracie!” Day 3 – “What in the hell have we done?!”) This overload of cuteness has peed more than an old man being force fed Mountain Dew and dollar beers, bit me more than a swarm of mosquitoes and has been yelled at so often I’m surprised I can speak in normal tones to other living creatures now. So we did puppy class.
Going in, I thought I had the dumbest animal on Earth, and my last dog, Bean, was a straight up doofus. I used to call Bean the following: Dummy, Dumbness, El Estupido, Captain Dipshit, Melonhead, Puddin’ Head, Dumb Dumb…you get it. We even had a voice for Bean that sounded like Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh mixed with Droopy and Bean was about 50 times smarter than this terrorist Merry we brought in. Then I went to class and realized Merry was a genius compared to these other mutts. Still ornery as a popcorn fart, as my Grandma used to say, but smart.
One guy in my class had a dog so awful, he had to hold it like a newborn the entire time. Another guy had a herding dog that shot out and nearly strangled itself for an hour straight, no matter what was going on. The two ladies in my class that said they were also trainers failed the trick session and the one lady’s dog peed on the floor four straight weeks. Holy crap, they get worse than this golden torture I call Merry?
After God knows how many weeks, she learned to sit, lay down, roll over, stand and (sort of) stay and leave stuff alone. Of course, I have anemia from the puppy teeth bleeding me out like Dracula drew out Lucy Westenra, but we have a paper now, so that means my dog is someone now! Now, to get this damn dog to get a job and let me retire pre-40 like I planned two days after starting my first real job after college.
