It is 6:50 am CST and this is self-therapy: if I write about the river of rage flowing through me right now, maybe it will go away. The puppy will not go to the bathroom outside if the temperature drops below 25 degrees. It is 5 degrees. It is dark. I want to make toast. I want to help the girls get ready for school. I want to take pictures of some old books for a post I intended to write this morning. I want to feel my fingers.
BUT NO. I'm standing out in the "potty spot" with a flashlight and a tiny little boxer yipping and barking and straining on her leash and generally waking up everyone on the block (tiny boxer, big bark) because her built-in thermometer says "Today is not a day to poop".
Our dog trainer says that I cannot let her win. I have to stay out there, repeating the command "Go Potty" until she gets the job done. Then I am supposed to reward her with a treat. The whole time I am standing there saying "Go Potty" I am thinking of the Time-Traveler's Wife and how he would pop into time somewhere in Chicago on a sub-zero night, naked, and how would it feel to be standing here naked? I should be thankful!! But I'm not thankful. . .I'm hungry, my pocket is full of kibble, and I'm irritated that now I have to fit some baking into my schedule today, because a loaf of Applesauce-Apology-Bread is in order for the couple that lives next door.
This problem started a few days ago, and so, in a fit of desperation, I bought her a little pink parka. The 10-day forecast had predicted this arctic blast, and I wanted to be prepared. Besides, the pink parka will come in handy tomorrow - January 14 - which is "Dress up Your Dog Day", according to my NPR wall calendar. But when I tried the parka on her, it was too big. Her front legs would get stuck inside the parka when she tried to take a step, and she would end up rolling around the kitchen floor like a little pink gortex sausage. So much for dressing for the weather.
OK. I'm starting to feel a little better. A little. . .dog days of January, indeed. Harumph.
ERB
5 comments:
Ellie...
Try saying DO YOUR BUSINESS. That always works for Webster. If he's looking at me when I say it, I twirl my hand around in a circular motion. Your puppy is too dignified for the word potty. I hope your trainer agrees. Try it!
The coldest weather of the year is on its way to New Jersey.
Good luck, ♥Rosemary
One of my cousins used the words "parsnips" and "rutabaggas" when she was training her pups, that way no one was the wiser as she took them out. Hang in there, I could say it gets better with dogs, if you wanted. ;)
You have my sympathy! And I'm sad about those beautiful slippers as well. Will it make you feel any better when I tell that when our Golden Retriever was a puppy he ate an entire couch - didn't think so. Maybe it should be the girls' job to take the pink gortex sausage out to potty!
Ah, yes. We house-trained Abe in the dead of Michigan winter as well. FANTASTIC TIME FOR ME. I hear you. I understand.
It will be funny, though. When all but a 3 foot square of snow melts in March and your pooch will potty on nothing but white stuff... it will be funny.
SOmeday.
First of all, I love the Time-Traveler's Wife. . .Thanks for recommending it. Secondly, I never had an "inside dog" growing up, but I'm considering it now. Your experience is helping me make an informed (and timely) decision. Thanks!
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