I went to Tractor Supply the other day in search of dog food with no added coloring — as advised by my vet — for my dog, Mr. Sensitivity. After I waited in line and got up to the checkout counter, I noticed my two boys were hiding items from me.
“What do you have?”
They laughed as they produced dog toys from behind their backs.
“Are those for Rex?”
“No. They’re for us!” they exclaimed.
“Put them back.” I’m not buying those.
They, then, proceeded to scream, cry and throw tantrums (gaining everyone’s attention in the store) because I am quite possibly the meanest mom in the world. What kind of mother won’t buy her children dog toys after all?
Perhaps if they would’ve promised to chew on them quietly in the corner, I would’ve been more tempted to give in. But, instead, I could see the situation play out in my head of the boys fighting with the dog over the toys, or squeaking them until I pulled out my hair and threw the toys (or the boys) out the door.
But — at least now — I know what I need to get them for Christmas.
Dog trainers encourage you to make a clear distinction to your dog between yourself — the master — and him, the dog.
But, no matter how hard I try, my dog hasn’t seemed to grasp the fact that my children aren’t dogs themselves. And, considering their behavior, it’s no wonder why.
Just the other day, I ordered my oldest son to clean up the orange JELL-O he dropped and left on the kitchen floor.
Then I turned around just in time to see him lapping it up off the floor with his tongue.
“NO!” I screamed at him. That’s not what I meant (and you know it).
“Bad boy. Bad boy.”
So, yes, upon further contemplation, it’s clear to see why the dog can’t make the distinction between himself and the boys. Even I have a hard time seeing it (at times) as well.
My husband was working midnights the other evening and called to check in on us. It was after 9, so I’m sure he thought I had the children settled down — perhaps reading them a nice story, or singing them to sleep. But, instead, he caught me at a bad moment. My oldest son had gotten too excited chasing the dog and peed his pants, the little one was screaming that the dog took his toy, and I was chasing the dog as a result.
We were on FaceTime, and my husband said I was making him dizzy with all my running around, so he said I should call him back later when I had things under control.
It’s not totally unreasonable to wish I could keep things under control … is it?
So I texted him later and told him he could call me back at his convenience, because I was now available. I had one watching Batman, one asleep — drooling — on the couch, and one locked up. I told him to guess who was who.
Yes, between feeding them, bathing them, and giving them treats, sometimes you walk a very fine line between raising dogs and children.
I just hope eventually we will get it all sorted out, and I will have them trained, as to who is to be eating off the floor, and who is not.
