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Laurie goes to the cupboard to get a handful of Scrappy's "mom and dad are leaving me" treats (basically doggie versions of cheese doodles).
"Are we out of his other treats?"
Words that send a chill down the spine. Allow me to explain.
This is the "other treats". Somehow Scrappy has come to believe that a dose of these between 7-8 PM are a right, not a privilege. No matter if he has just gone through the process of begging Dad's dinner, eating his dinner, and begging Mom's dinner. Once all that's done, if it's after 7 PM, I should be leaping to my feet and getting this taken care of. When I get around to doing it, I take two of the treats, break them in thirds, and hide them around the room- sometimes shutting him in the half-bath to hide them, sometimes just pretending to throw one and hiding while he's looking in vain. It's not a big chore, and I usually use the time to remind myself to pack my next day's lunch (a pack of blueberry Pop-Tarts). Last night, though, I already had that covered, we had just finished eating about 7:40, and by 7:50, I was getting it.
It?
Scrappy comes to me with that, "You know what time it is!" look and a bark. I respond with the situationally appropriate response (either the verbal middle finger or "BS"). He gets mad, circles the room. Looks at his Mom. Comes back to me. Repeat the process- over and over and over.
Finally, I tell him, "I'll decide when it's time, and I decide it's NOT NOW."
Scrappy: "BARK!"
Me: "And that attitude won't make it come any sooner."
Scrappy: Grumbles, stalks off towards Mom.
Laurie: "Get up here and lay down. Don't ignore me!"
Scrappy: Grumbles, stalks to me. "BARK!"
Me: "WHEN I'M READY!"
Scrappy: Stalks to Mommy. Grumbles.
Laurie: "He sounds like a toddler talking back to you."
Me: "He IS talking back to me! That's why I'm not getting them!"
Scrappy: Returns to me. "ROO- ROOF!"
Me: It's NOT time!"
Scrappy: (moans a very human moan of disappointment.)
Laurie: (Laughs)
Finally, Laurie gets tired of it and talks him into going outside. Then I get the treats and hide them. Also, make sure he has water, because their smoked flavor gives him hot pipes. No point in having to get back up after he's convinced he found them all.
__________________________
So when Laurie said we were out, I said, "Oh, crap, you're right. "
Laurie says, "We can stop on the way back and get some more."
Me: "We'd better. Unless you want to get "the tantrum" all night tonight."
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| Scrappy. With dogs like him, who needs toddlers? |
I know what you're up against, Chris. I know what you're dealing with. Dog tantrums can try your patience. My Cocker Spaniel Toto was the same way. She was very persistent in her begging and had great expectations when it came to table scraps and store bought treats. She fussed and cried until we gave in. We would drop food from the height of the table top and it always disappeared before it hit the floor. Yes, a dog can often act like a temperamental toddler but, take it from me, you will surely miss Scrappy when he's gone. Give him a big hug and a pat (along with a treat) and give thanks for every day he's alive to amuse you and to be your best buddy.
ReplyDeleteTrust me on that one! It's just another layer of amusement for us...
DeleteChris:
ReplyDeleteROFL...there is a "similar" situation involving the FELINE species, too.
Suppose we can thank (or blame) PAVLOV?
I think Scrappy was prepping you two for TODAY (my blog will tell the "tale", or is that TAIL?
And we think a WOMAN SCORNED is asking for the sword of Damocles to come down on our neck...right?
Guess Damocles never had a DOG or cat...heh.
Good stuff.
Stay safe up there, brother.
My dogs are my kids. They crack me up on how human they act. Jax not only stares at me while I'm eating something he wants, he whines and then he paws at me. He will start digging in my arm and it makes me laugh. Then he gets mad that I'm laughing at him and not giving him a treat. I don't know what I would do with out my sweet poopers! Lila is a bag lady. If I bring home a shopping bag of any kind, her head is in it looking for a treat.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of dog treats, I saw the poor mailman dealing with a yappy ten pound attack dog at the mail box down the road. He threw the treat 10 feet behind the dog, delivered the mail, and was on his way.
ReplyDeleteMy dog's obsession for treats is only equal to her OCD involving rubber balls.
ReplyDelete