Oh, Horatio… he amazes me in so many ways. He tends to go what I call “Barky Bonkers” when, you know, a neighbor decides to open their door down the hall, or maybe walk across the courtyard 100 feet away outside of our ground floor sliding door. The nerve, right? How dare they.
Aside from that, he’s what I’d call a “talker”. He’ll plop down, stare at me, and just start rambling. He’ll grumble and he’ll groan. He’ll look at me so earnestly, with this strong desire to obviously communicate… something.
I’ll admit I talk to the dog. I work from home, and, well I treat him like my child. Yes, I’m one of those owners.
So, when I’m faced with these situations, where Horatio is going on about something that is apparently VERY important to him, I don’t know what to do. I suddenly feel like I’m on Lassie.
“What is it boy?! What are you saying?! Timmy’s in the well?!”
This will go on for minutes at a time. He’s griping and I’m that freako human trying to understand him. As if me asking over and over again what he’s saying is going to prompt him to stand up on two legs, put a paw on his hip and say “Well, Elizabeth, I require a belly rub and a new squeaker toy.”
I am the equivalent of that person yelling at the deaf and/or foreign guy, thinking that if I speak just a little bit louder, they’ll surely understand me.
Also, I was manipulated by my own dog today. That’s right. I don’t need to be walked. I pay taxes. I hold a job that requires analysis, time management, and smart decision-making. I know what the Tao is, and that Jimmy Carter’s brother once had his own line of beer called “Billy Beer”, and I was SCAMMED by a DOG.
While he was going Barky Bonkers (TM) at the window today, I sternly told him no and called him over. Seeing as he’s been doing really well with his homeschooling training, I thought I would start on the advanced lesson of “Stay!”
One of the pillars of dog training is a reward system. They made winkie outside in the yard instead of in your nice Cole Haan loafer? Good boy! He gets a treat!
So after a few minutes of teaching him the stay command, Horatio has it down. Man, he’s sitting. He’s staying. He’s being that good boy you’d always hope your puppy would be. He knows he’s hot puppy crap, too. He gave me that look of “Yea, I’m pickin’ up what you’re puttin’ down, and you’re impressed.”
The lesson concluded and I shooed him off to go do whatever it is that he does. Plotting my demise. Conquering the world. Who knows what goes on in his head.
I might have an idea if I could understand when he talks to me, but whatever.
Not two minutes later, there he is at the sliding door, guarding us from the toddlers that have the audacity to run free in the courtyard.
Once again I sternly shushed him. Before my first “No!” came out of my mouth, he scurried over, as if he planned this and sat down in front of me. He was just waiting for that scolding. I stared at him for a moment.
I was about to say “Good boy!” and reach for a treat when it dawned on me: He wanted me to do this. He planned this. He thought that if he sat and stayed like the last time I called him over for barking like a psycho that he’d get a treat. He almost had me fooled.
He. Manipulated. Me. I studied him for a few seconds before my suspicions were confirmed. He whined a little, bobbled back and forth on his hind legs, and then nudged the box of treats on the table. He sat back down again and groaned as if he were saying,
“Hey, lady! I sat. I stayed. Where’s my treat?”
…and he’s only six months old.
14 Comments
June 17, 2008 at 11:21 pm
Ohhh, puppy training.
Homeschooling hasn’t worked out well for us, our dog still goes “Barky Bonkers” at least ten times a day. Especially when the mail lady comes…..maybe someday I will stop being such a pushover and actual train her to be quiet!
June 17, 2008 at 11:38 pm
We had a trainer, but I bet we could’ve trained our dog ourselves (if we weren’t so darn lazy).
My dog doesn’t bark much. Then again, I’ve noticed most other large dogs are the same way.
June 18, 2008 at 6:24 am
Before I got my Scottie, I was warned by a trainer
that they were terrifically smart. They were so
smart, in fact, that you might think they were
stupid. After they’ve obeyed the command a
hundred times, they suddenly don’t obey it any
more. He assured me that it wasn’t a lack of brains, the dogs may just simply decide that they don’t want to do that any more.
I miss my dog.
June 18, 2008 at 7:48 am
In teaching Calvin the “off” command to keep him from jumping up on people, furniture, babies, we pretty much trained him that if he jumps on something and immediately gets down, he is rewarded.
I hate smart puppies. My next pet will be a turtle. Or a popsicle stick.
June 18, 2008 at 10:01 am
What a cute puppy - I talk to my kitties and they actually answer back - no clue what they are saying but they meow back lol
June 18, 2008 at 10:49 am
I always tell people that I didn’t train Dingo Girl, she trained me. Horatio is a smart one. Watch out for that cutie!
June 18, 2008 at 10:50 am
I always tell people that I didn’t train Dingo Girl, she trained me. Horatio is a smart one. Watch out for that cutie!
June 18, 2008 at 11:45 am
Uhm. I love your dog and I WANT ONE OF MY OWN!
June 18, 2008 at 12:20 pm
So cute!
He is just like a kid. They do the same thing.
June 18, 2008 at 12:23 pm
This post made me laugh out loud. At work. With a mouthful of carrots. Amazingly, it didn’t turn out as gross as it could have
P.S. I adore your dog.
June 18, 2008 at 4:41 pm
Dogs are hell and heaven all at once. It’s a cruel, cruel game they play.
June 18, 2008 at 6:36 pm
The hunter became the hunted…
June 19, 2008 at 6:14 am
What a great post, really made me smile.
I’m one of those talky owners. I talk to my cat, and when I visit my parents, I talk to their cats and dogs too.
I, too, have been manipulated by a puppy. My parents have a miniature schnauzer who was injured at eight months old, and I cared for him while he was recovering. Whenever he needed something or was in pain the poor little guy cried, I would leap to help him. Now he’s all better, but he learned that if he makes horrible sounds, his people (especially me, the soft-hearted, easily suggestible people who waited on him hand and foot while he was hurt) will feed him, talk to him, play with him and pet him. He used to be a quiet little guy but now he’s very talkative and rather spoiled. Not that we mind, since he’s clever and mind-blowingly cute.
His noises are easy to interpret. I’m pretty sure they usually mean “Hey! Hey you! Look at me! Pay attention to me! Hey! I’m Ivan, and I’m doing stuff! Hey! Hey! You!”
June 20, 2008 at 9:47 am
Great photo! Terrific writing.
Leave a Reply