Thursday, January 28, 2010
They Call Me the Dog … Negotiator
My satellite package doesn’t include NatGeo, so I only ever actually get to watch the Dog Whisperer when I’m back home on vacation, although the week or so before I arrive Mom and Dad tend to tape extra episodes so I can get a mini-schooling under my belt for when I get back to misery and plan to get all whispery on the girls.
Yeah, likely story.
I’m loving Cesar Milan, period. That man is the shit when it comes to dogs. Me, on the other hand, am more like the twit when it comes to dogs.
My girls walk all over me. They have trained me well. Witness my current kitchen situation, wherein I have no oven mitts, although Boogie has three (three!) suspiciously oven-mitt shaped binkies.
But I did learn something this last time I was back home, and that is the principal of energy, in that I want my energy to be calm, and my girls to pick up on my calm energy and give it back to me. And I know there’s something to this, because Cesar can set up a whole relationship with a (seemingly) unruly canine individual within the first few minutes of meeting doggie.
So I’ve been trying to apply my learning; this way I can get a handle on really the only two issues I have with the lugnutz: 1) they don’t come when I want them to (unless they want to); and 2) Boogie continues to bark even after I tell her to “shut it”, which, apparently, she thinks means LOUDER!
Score to date: girls 68 / me 2. Hey, that’s two more than I usually get!