No, really, I have heard that. Now, don’t get me wrong–I’m a skeptical sort, so I’m aware that perhaps this “possible to train one’s dog” thing is purely hearsay, a modern myth, an urban legend. I have seen well-trained dogs–my best friends’ great loveable moose of a Golden, family canines from the past, that neighbor of a couple blocks westerly who walks his German Shepherd entirely leashlessly–but I’m also willing to grant that anecdotes don’t necessarily add up to data.
But, we’re both adults. For the sake of discussion, let us assume–purely for the sake of pursuing the discussion, not as an axiom henceforth and forever–that it is, in fact, possible to train one’s dog. Can we do that, you and I?
Good, I knew I could count on you to meet me halfway. Now that we’ve established that, I’d like to take my stance one step further: not only is it possible to train one’s dog, it is desireable and rewarding to train one’s dog.
“But she’s so cuuute!” you might protest. “She’s loveable just as she is!” Please note that I am not disputing the cuteness of your pet. I have seen your pet; she is indeed–as small breeds go–a cute dog. Further, I am not disputing that she is deserving of a pet-owner’s love and care. The revolutionary idea that I am proposing, however, is that part of a dog-owner’s love and care for their animal shall be to train it.
“But I doooo,” you may complain. And I will grant that intent is an important factor in judging anyone’s actions, not merely consequences. I grant that you may believe that you are attempting to train your animal.
I don’t claim to be an expert trainer, mind you. And largely, I try to view how people train their own pets to be their business and not mine, so long as how they do doesn’t involve cruelty. And I do hasten to add that I’m not accusing you of anything near animal abuse, merely a nearly superhuman lack of aptitude.
I did not come to this conclusion hastily. Simply a few dozen iterations of the following mini-drama:
Dog: YAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAP! YAP! YAP! YAPYAPYAPYAP!
You: <silence>
Dog: YAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAP!!!
You: <in old SNL “Whiner Family” voice> doooooon’t.
Dog: YAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAPYAP! BARKBARKYAP!
You: Stooooooooop iiiit!
Dog: YAPYAPBARKBARKYAP!
…over the course of single night is not, in itself, enough to have driven me to my conclusion regarding your focus and aptitude in dog-training. That same play, along with minor variations, repeated several times per night, each night, every week, for close to five months now is, however, starting to make me inquire in deep despair of God how the fuck it is fair that you be able to practice the horrible deception of HAVING OPPOSABLE THUMBS AND WALKING UPRIGHT!
Ahem. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I do still wonder about the opposable thumbs, though. Are they really yours? You grew them, you didn’t get high-quality strap-on prosthetic ones? Astonishing.
Now, like I say, I’m no expert animal trainer. So this advice may be taken as only that of a slightly out-of-practice amateur in the field. It’s like this: whining at your dog, in a pleading broken-down voice that’s the auditory equivalent of having a “kick me” sign tacked permanently onto your sloping forehead, to please stop what it is it’s doing, after it’s been engaged in said undesireable behavior for several minutes non-stop already, is going to work about as well as trying to boil water using a fucking ice cube. Which is to say–follow me closely here–NOT AT ALL.
All I’m saying is that it’s starting to get on my nerves, an eensy teensy amount. It’s doing so even moreso than your bi-weekly shrill screaming Whinerfights with Boyfriend Number Umpty, which I suppose is an accomplishment.
I don’t blame your dog, mind you. I’m pretty sure the animal’s salvageable, should anyone ever actually devote some time and attention and effort at the poor beast. So when I do snap, I’m not going to take it out on the pooch. Do you have a will made out? I know, you’re young, a will is the furthest thing from your mind, which is far more concerned with the next time for getting gigglydrunk, or planning strategems for your next shrill screaming whinerfight. But it may be a good thing to start planning out.
Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Your downstairs neighbor,
Drastic