Bark Worse Than My Bite

I have self-admittedly turned over a new leaf.  It is Autumn after all so what else can I do with all the shed maple littering my life?  Flip them tree-feathers and see what you can find!

As you probably remember, and if not I’m filling you in now: me and my dogs don’t necessarily get along.  Dogs aren’t like your kids, you can have a favorite.  It so happens that of our two dogs, my favorite (“Cookie”) is the one I originally didn’t want – and “Oscar” is the bane of my existence.  While the “Good Dog” is arrogant and very cat-like, which is also something I detest, is the more responsible and tame of the two.  The “Bad Dog”, Oscar is high strung with the jitters and just plain misbehaves.

Every now and again the boys get out – making a break through the front door when we are least expecting it.  They always find their way back, usually under the arm of myself or adoring wife, neither of us very happy.  When regaling the tale of any ‘attempts’ to friends and family, I make no secret of the fact that next time they escape I’ll just lock the door behind them.  I’ve said lots of mean things to them over the years, and it could actually be that they understand me!  I think part of my malcontent with the pooches is that they just don’t respect me.  Typical male attitude probably, me demanding respect and human-like behavior from every thing in my world.  Hey, I’m only human myself!

The other afternoon however I let Oscar out the back by accident while trying to maneuver something through the door.  As he swept past my feet almost tripping me I insulted him and his mental faculties once again.  As he paused in the yard poised to detect any threats to our home and family, I caught myself feeling guilty for being so cruel to this creature we brought into our lives.  He’s 100% dog, and pure of heart, even if he does steal food from Simon’s plate, or act like a conspiracy theorist to all of our neighbor’s fences.

I don’t know where these exact words came from, but I uttered them:

“I’m sorry I said that to you Oscar.  I’m sorry I use words that hurt.”

I was sincere, even though after I did, I felt like he should be in a “safe place” showing the officer on the doll exactly where the bad man touched him.

The dogs still go ballistic in the yard and it still drives me up the wall.  But I have been much nicer to them and am really making an effort to use only healing words.  I am hoping that someday they will forgive me for being such a creep – but until then I’ll have to settle for the good, if not cheap,  feeling I get from  dropping food near the garbage can as I’m scraping the plates after dinner.  My paltry attempts at bribing them to love me again probably wont work – but I’m a man.  It wont stop me from trying!

Be Sociable, Share!

•