I get it, you are the alpha female. The puppy who has invaded your life over a year ago has no place in this house. However, as cute as you are with your little under bite and your boxer-mix lippy-ness, I need to tell you that the following things need to be stated:
You cannot starve her to death: By this, I mean when I fill the bowls in the morning and retire to the office to dope-around and check emails, you are not allowed to hover over her dish and growl with all you furriness up.
You are not allowed to try to kill her every time she comes near me: Yes, you have the primo spot under my legs when I am working…I’ll give you that. But you are not allowed to come after her ala Jaws every time she comes up to my side. I can see you. And my leg is right there.
You are not forgiven for the broken window: I get that the pup was trying to bark at your cat that stalks the 'hood. Still no reason to get into a row that involved 175 pounds of dog mass being thrown onto a window. You are so luckily that no one was hurt.
She is out of the crate for good: Yes, she is no longer relegated to the wire confines of her training crate. You must share space at the window that is now fixed. Don’t even try to pee on the floor and blame it on her. You tried that with Grandma Zoë (the sweetest border collie) when you first got here and I didn’t buy it.
I have caught on to your pizza plot: I know it was you that was responsible. I know that when I was removing said pizza from the microwave you somehow convinced the poor pup to go between my legs and immediately sit forcing the afore mentioned pizza to be tossed directly at you. I sensed it when you carefully sniffed it to see if it was too hot before absconding said slice and scampering off to the living room. I have no proof of your deeds, but I’m watching.
You don’t need to share your toys*: No, I understand that you have become insanely attached to the piece of plastic that USED to be a soccer ball. I think it lovely that you leave it in the yard to accumulate water and then expect me to walk out and empty it before you will dare to put it in your mouth. I got it, you love it. However, it is not appropriate for you to drop it a few feet away and wait for the poor pup to try to get it and then go after her like it was t-bone. Not fair.
The Pup can get on the bed: Yes, this is your domain. You sleep in the crook of our legs every night…despite the fact that in your previous (crazy) home you could only be in one room. Regardless, the pup is 100lbs, she could get up there if she wanted to. She has in the past. And she has very large reach. Given that, could you refrain from trying to find the centermost point where she can’t jump up at you? She can always reach you. I’m tired of finding my blankets half off the bed, covered in your collective saliva.
Yes, you get to come in first: I totally understand that you don’t want to let the poor whittle puppet see you get your feet whiped off after trolling in the mud/poo patch you have turned my yard into. However, if it is a nice dry day, you both get to come in together. There is no sense in doing a drive by biting of her legs when she walks by. Also, on those rainy days. I need to get her in, too. I cannot give you a treat right at that moment. Also, I do not need you to stand over her head while I’m wiping her paws off. I can handle it all on my own.
The pup knows her name: Yes, you have fantastic recall, no matter what name I call you, of which you have several. Still there is no reason to herd the puppy when she has that slight canine amnesia which seems to happen whenever the school bus arrives or the neighbor drives up to their mailbox. I can handle it. Trust me.
She likes to play, too: Yes, I wrestle with the pup. I throw towels on her head. No reason for you to act like you’ve never seen her and try to bite her through the towels. I will have to remind you of the strict Bite-Club rules established in 2002:
First rule of Bite Club, you do not talk about Bite Club.
Second rule of Bite Club, you DO NOT talk about Bite Club.
Third rule of Bite Club, when THE MOM says stop, you go limp or tap out, the Bite is over.
Fourth rule of Bite Club, only two dogs to a Bite.
Fifth rule of Bite Club, one Bite at a time.
Sixth rule of Bite Club, no shirts, no shoes. NO GRABBING COLLARS.**
Seventh rule of Bite Club, Bites go on as long as they have to. (OR SEE RULE #3 aka MOM RULE)
Eighth and final rule of Bite Club, if this is your first night at Bite Club, you have to Bite.
**Please be reminded of rule 6. No collars.
I am not impressed: Yes you can make the dog that outweighs and out heights you cower like a teen with a doobie in his jeans on laundry day, she will rollover and refuse to look at you. Not impressed. I am also not fond of you licking the poor dear’s face halfway off when she dares to lay on the couch with me.
No psychological warfare: If you want her damn toy so badly just take it. If you want to be in the couch so badly, just jump up. Do not go over and grab a toy like it is the treasure of the Sierra Madre so she goes to see what it is, leaving her current prize alone for you to grab. No not root all other dog beds in such sheer furry joy that they must be stuffed with some sort of cheese product so she will go investigate and hence lose her place on the couch.
In parting, I want to remind both of you of the following:
It is daylight savings time. 5am is not a appropriate hour to wake me, no matter what the damn sun says.
My underwear is not for sniffing or carrying outside the basket.
The water delivery guy and the UPS guy and the guy that comes from dogbutler.com to clean up your massive poos are here on my request. There is no need to try to kill them.
I like to hug and kiss my husband when he come home. There is no need for both of you to jump on us and try to get between our legs. This is why we close the door during our mommy/daddy moments.
It is not OK to lick the dishwasher when we’re loading dishes. You get enough snacks. Speaking of which, if I am almost finished with a meal, there is no reason for you to suddenly become active and pace and stare at us as if we don’t know what you’re doing. If it was good for you, you’d have it.
Do not knock my arm when I am trying to use the mouse or type on my keyboard. Yes you are adorable, but I recently clicked on a pop-up ad for casino bingo…what hell that will bring.
That is all.
Just remember, you crazy canine mutt, I picked you and I picked her. You’ve both had rough starts in life. And you howl like crazy when I take your puppy away.
Love each other. And know that you have sincerely effected my stand on having only 1 human-child.
Your mom.