Dog Eat Dog

"The dog's agenda is simple, fathomable, overt: I want..." 

Caroline Knapp

"As of now, I am in control here..."

Alexander Haig

Bella was with the trainer for nearly three weeks. Of course it rained most of that time and the trainer did not have Bella exclusively (she boards animals too) so she said she would take Bella back for 1-2 weeks time (for free!) and work with her more. The trainer also said that Bella was a pain in the ass and this was due partly to her breed, her age and her personality. I've had this thought that my life was going painfully well for some time now so it makes sense that I chose Bella to enhance my life and along with those fantasy enhancements, I'd get chaos and a complete feeling of dog-owner incompetence.

Bella is much more calm since training. She has not started eating my carpet (again) or climbed up on the kitchen counter since she came home. She sleeps in her crate all night without incident. She sits quietly in her crate at work - not all day long. Mostly she seems calm like a bomb, more relaxed and peaceful. My sister suggested that Bella must be on drugs (good idea!) Plus she pees outside all the time, not my sister, but Bella. Before she went to training, I'd take her out to go potty and we'd mull around for 15 minutes while she sniffed at the air and told me in so many dog words to eff off. I'd take her inside and she'd pee right inside the door, usually within seconds. Now all I have to do is take her outside and say "go potty"and she squats within a minute or less, and at least pretends to pee which thrills me no end.


I have been (for two (whole!) days) walking Bella around 6:30 a.m. (Not part of any resolution). The sky is  mostly dark at that time (although I've been waking up around 4:30 a.m. so by 6:30, it feels like lunchtime.) Suffice it to say this time of the morn, the brightest objects are stars and (of course) inside my head, the radiant repartee, while the flashlight I carry specifically to guide our way into the darkness casts a faint orange glow. A cigarette would light the forest more brilliantly. Remember, we've no streetlights out here. The sky is pitch black unless the moon is up.


We won't be visiting the dog park much, or going to the dog beach, nor for the time being, visiting with the dogs that live downstairs. There is too much calamity involved, too much unpredictability. Attempts at training Bella when she's alone around other dogs have been fruitless. Once she gets revved up there's no stopping her until she's exhausted, and in some cases, been attacked by other dogs. Exhaustion is okay if that's all it is. But other dogs attacking and pummeling, teach Bella to attack and pummel. Believe me, Bella does not need attack and pummel lessons. (I want to be the pummeler in our relationship.)  I don't want a dog with aggressive behavior. I want a fluffy, sweet, lapdog who loves me unconditionally and gazes into my eyes at night - a tiny, cute dog that poops dollar bills and understands english. (Because I'm delusional) I thought a corgi would fit the bill. The Queen has corgis and the Queen speaks the Queen's english. I want to be able to bring my dog with me when I go places that dogs can go and not have people cringe at the mere thought of a visit from us unless those people cringed prior to my owning a dog in which case, cringing burns calories so cringe away.


So it seems I've got myself into some more drama which means I need to keep some distance so I can see the whole picture, clarify and restate boundaries (more radiant repartee!) remember who's in charge (NOT THE DOG!) and love this dog all at the same time. 


Ahh, compared to what I've been through so far, raising and training Bella to poop dollar bills should be a piece of cake squared.