Thursday, June 21, 2007

I have no son

Last night Chico lifted his leg and let loose...on my heart.

I'm not sure how it all started, because by 1:30 a.m. I had been asleep for about 4 hours already, but I woke to the sound of Mr.Whyioughtta whistling and pacing quietly on the porch outside. Whistle whistle... Pace pace. Whistle! Pace pace pace. Whistle whistle... Pace pace pace pace.

"What's going on??" I groaned groggily from the bedroom upstairs.

"...Chico...he's f^&%ing around again...won't come in," he replied.

Chico's been doing this for months, but not usually this late at night and not with such manipulative forethought. You see, he used the "emergency bark" to lure my husband into letting him outside. The emergency bark is reserved specifically for when Chico has to go to the bathroom really, really bad and risks losing bowel control in the house. He's only used it twice before.

But this time he used it with cunning and falsehood. He didn't have to go to the bathroom at all. He just wanted to go out and play.

What do you call a dog who cries wolf???

By then I was wide awake, 1:30 a.m. being the time I normally get up these days. We tried everything we could to get him back in the house, but the brat wasn't having it. Instead he chose to lurk menacingly just outside the reach of the porch light. Finally we said, "screw it. We're going back to bed."

That didn't last long. Chico decided to run around the neighbourhood barking at God knows what. I was nervous because he chased a young bear yesterday and I could see the goof trying it on with young bear's mother. Then again, if he didn't shut up, an angry neighbour was bound to shoot him. Either way, I had to get up and stage whisper "ssssshhhut up dumbassssss!" in my Satan voice to the darkness.

I made myself a bed on the couch, whence I can see out the patio doors and track his movements. He refused to come in, but he did fall asleep on the patio just outside the door. When I got up to let him in, he took off through my tomato garden. I wanted to throttle him.

I fell asleep for about 2 hours. Visions of dancing around his taxidermified corpse filled my dreams. When I woke up, I completely ignored him. I knew I had to drive Mr.W into work in an hour and that would be the deciding moment: would Chico just let us leave peacefully, or would he, as he has done several times, try to follow the car down the highway?

In the end, I didn't have to face that moment, because as I walked out to the car, he followed me and hopped right in the back, just like he owned the joint. He was perfectly well-behaved for the rest of the journey, except for his grand finale of puking all over the back seat.

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7 Comments:

Blogger Stylefinder said...

My goodness dogs can be ornery little creatures!

7:02 PM  
Blogger Fat Sparrow said...

Has Chico been to the vet to get tutored, if you know what I mean? That tends to improve their attitude a bit.

Also, you can just start feeding him little bits all throughout the day, at different times, and then he has to show back up, as he won't know when his next meal might be coming.

3:22 AM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

Stylefinder: And this one more ornery than most...

FS: He hasn't had his bits since he was 6 months old. I think it's just a personality thing.

I like that random feeding idea...I wonder, does it work with kids too?

8:36 AM  
Blogger Manuel said...

works in our restaurant. Stops the buggers clearing of outside for smokes...

8:57 PM  
Blogger Fat Sparrow said...

"I like that random feeding idea...I wonder, does it work with kids too?"

Assuming that you want to keep your kids around.... As a mother of a teenager, we're counting down the days 'til college.

I keep thinking of Homer Simpson telling Bart "A dog like that you have to feed almost every day."

You know, all the "experts" will tell you that kids thrive on routine, but I have found that unpredictability not only sharpens their critical thinking skills and keeps them on their toes, but makes them a lot better behaved.

I'm just sayin'.

5:58 AM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

Man-well: But don't they need the smokes after all that Belfastian binge drinking?

FS: Ha ha hahahaha...the Simpsons quote...classic.

The more I learn about child-rearing, the more confident I feel that my dog-training skills will be sufficient, when the time comes. Kids are crate-trainable, right?

12:54 PM  
Blogger Fat Sparrow said...

"The more I learn about child-rearing, the more confident I feel that my dog-training skills will be sufficient, when the time comes. Kids are crate-trainable, right?"

Totally. It's called a playpen. They're ever so appreciative when you finally let them out.

6:36 PM  

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