Ha ha! I was having a conversation recently with an animal trainer friend of mine (whom I won’t “out” here in case she doesn’t want anyone to know about her personal vulgarities) and when I made a joke about Wootie’s recall being something along the lines of “Fine! I hope you drown in that river, you willfully-deaf, disobedient, pile of orange garbage!” she told me that her newest response to *her* ‘selective listening’ dog was to promise to kick him until he was dead.
I *may* have laughed until I cried.
Abby doesn’t find it all that funny.
This got me thinking about all the Frustration Phrases that have either come out of my mouth, or the mouths of my friends, with respect to their dogs over the years.
Why just last weekend, after the agility trial, I posted on Facebook something to the effect of how proud I was of Tweed, and that I’d left Piper in the dumpster behind the gas station on my way home. Which was indeed something I had threatened her with when we left the trial site.
She’s just kidding. Right? *goes off to find Piper*
In agility class, Tweed expresses his enthusiasm by talking about how happy he is. Loudly, rhythmically and eternally. It’s this great, booming, metronomic ARF ARF ARF ARF – you could play an entire symphony on the piano to this noise. He does it while other dogs are running, and it increases in frequency when he thinks it’s his turn: WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF. It. Drives me. INSANE.
Our class often runs late, and generally our last exercise is a timed run-off where we all try to run clean and beat everyone else. The next class is frequently coming in to set up while we are finishing up the Competition Run – and since I have two dogs who run 16″ Specials, Piper is often near the beginning, and Tweed somewhere near the end, so they catch Tweed’s run mostly. I don’t know all the people in the next class, just a few of them.
Recently one friend in the late class told me that I scared the bejesus out of some of his classmates by hollering at Tweed “I will reach down your throat and remove your bark box with my fingers if you don’t shut up!!”
You’d have to catch me like a tennis ball first!
(don’t tell anyone we were playing Dumball, okay? Shhh.)
Food Lady let us play Dumball! Food Lady let us play Dumball!!
Dexter, I will shake you until your testicles drop.
(Hmm. Not a bad idea, actually.)
My friend Finn, whom I’ve blogged about before, is like the tattooed patron saint of needy animals. She’s worked in animal welfare her whole life. She travels the world lending a hand to animals in crisis; she was in New Orleans post-Hurricane Katrina, she is regularly at New Hope’s Casa Lupita in Nicaragua. Now she is heading off to Haiti in the aftermath of the horrible earthquakes that have devastated the Haitians. In other words, there is nobody more invested in the well being of the world’s critters than Saint Finn.
And yet, Finn has been heard to tell her dogs that she will beat them repeatedly with a 2X4 before sending them back to the Pound. Loudly.
I think people need to have more of a sense of humour when it comes to their dogs sometimes. We get so caught up in being politically correct about how we train, how patient and tolerant we can be … we forget sometimes that dogs can be really freakin’ frustrating, and that it’s okay to get irritated, and that without a healthy sense of humour about it, we might go insane. As long as you channel your frustration into funny … that way, you’re a lot less likely to *actually* take it out on your dog.
Last night Dexter ate my headphones for Skype. Whilst sitting on my toes, I might add, innocent as a Spring blossom, the little turd monkey. I *may* have told him he was getting the leftovers for breakfast, and that there would be no more real food coming his way, ever.
I don’t know about you, Mr. Husky, but I think TFL just likes to hear the sound of her own voice. I don’t like it much, and that’s why I ignore her. What say we take her out?
Plus I think they learn something from it.
Last night in agility class, Piper nailed her weave entries every.single.run. That’s never happened in the history of Piper. (Piper: “The dog full of GO, but empty of KNOW” ~ courtesy of Christine. hee hee!!) I like to believe the dumpster threat is responsible for this magical turn of events.
So what’s your dirty little secret? What threats do you utter at your recalcitrant canines? Don’t be ashamed – I won’t judge you! After all, my K9 Mantra is:
More Beatings. Less Love.
I was also one of those people who were horrified at seeing friends call their pets mean names. And then I got a dog! My greyhound now finds himself referred to as “jerkface” as often as his real name. If he’s misbehaving, we threaten to send him “to camp” (aka to stay with my parents – he loves them, and vice versa, but he inevitably comes back from a couple days with them chastened and better behaved, lest we send him away again). We’ve also been known to tell him he’s sleeping in the yard with the coyotes, especially when the greyhound farts are particularly toxic. And we miiiight have gotten into the habit of telling him that if he keeps it up, we’re trading him in for a chihuahua. But you didn’t hear that from me >_>
Shut up, or I’ll open the front door and let the neighborhood cats eat you. (6lb, yippy, Chihuahua)
I am frequently heard yelling, “Jeeze Noah! Stop yapping before I shove my foot so far into your butt you become a Muppet! Please. Shut. Up!” Or, “If you dont stop pooping on the floor when I have to leave you at home, that is all you will get to eat for the next 4 years!” Oh and then, “If you dont stop sleeping behind my butt/on my head (yes…On my freaking head!), I am going to make you go to sleep with Nana and Papaw UNDER the bed where a monster will eat you and I can go get a better behaved dog that will sleep in ONE spot.”
Most often overheard at our house: “UGH! Why are you such a JERK?!” and the simple but very satisfying, “I. Will. Cut. You.”
“It is a good thing I don’t own a gun because I am ready to take you out back and shoot you, you jackhole.” Said today, at the apex of frustration, to my housemate’s neurotic, separation anxiety-ridden dog as hour #2 of heartbreaking whining commences, all because I am IN the apartment but not in DIRECT VIEW of the dog. The dog, who is an 11 year old, ~20lb. mutt of indeterminate origin, is the same dog who has been Prozac-ed and gone on a 4-mile run with me today, so there should be no energy left with which to ceaselessly whine. And yet.
I call my Weimaraner a stupid asshole. He rather is.
“don’t make me beat you with a hammer” seems to be my go to phrase for our labs. That and “I will choke you out!” for whatever misbehavior we are working on. Neither of which has ever been an action!
“You are LITERALLY being an asshat today.” To my 15 lb cocker spaniel, usually the sweetest little ball of cuddles and love, when she wants to go out, go in, go out, go in… very much like a cat.
“Do you want the cone of shame? Do You?!??” To the dachshund/Jack russel mix when he barks incessantly or wraps his leash around me no less than three times on a walk
My husband perpetually threatens to drown our Basset Hounds (the valedictorian breed of selective hearing and naughtiness) in the pool. We find ourselves saying more and more outrageous things of late knowing that soon our 7 month old daughter will understand what we’re saying and be upset by it; we’re getting it out of the system so as to model peaceful interactions. We are doomed.
“I will punch you in the neck”
“shut the HELL up!”
“shut up you little bastard!”
You may notice a theme emerging — two little jack Russell terriers we rescued. I’d die for them, if I don’t have to kill one of them 1st.
Hahahaha these are cracking me up! Not that I have EVER yelled at my dogs or cat… noooo not me… ;-) Ok I might have threatened them once or twice to snatch them bald or something like that…
Just loved reading how everyone else deals with their frustrating dog moments. I have the most demanding princess-like Cavalier King Charles Spaniel ON EARTH that gets threatened regularly with being sent to a foreign land to live on a street without pillows to sleep on or fresh cooked chicken to eat. She also barks sharp and incessantly which also drives me freaking crazy and causes me to scream like a banshee at her that I will personally remove her voicebox if she does not shut up! On the other hand, I have a Dogue de Bordeaux who is a love and never (I do mean never) gets yelled at except to come and get his meals. So easy!! Unfortunately, Sophie is enough of a pain in the butt for both of them…
Ha! Our Kelpie has a particular gift for being a total asshole at exactly the worst time.
This morning’s offense: Live frogs in the living room, ate the tomatoes out of the garden.
This morning’s ravings: Aside from the usual cursing, “I swear to you, dog, I’m going to sell you to the Dirt Man” (She Does Not Like the front-loaders at our neighborhood rock yard), and “I hate you and your big stupid ears.”
I will take you out back and save myself the $80!!!
My darling poodles answer to “dum dum”, and I am going to trade you in on a (insert preferred dog of the day) may have been said…multiple times…..a day
My neighbours must think I’m nuts when i call the dogs inside…they regularly take their sweet ass time and I’m sure they hear me yelling “Get the f@## in here you idiots!” Or trying to yell to my deaf dog who clearly cant hear me but I seem to think its necessary :P When my two male dogs get into it at times many choice words are said to them….I love them all dearly and couldnt imagine life without them but man can they be frustrating at times :)
Dawn Turner says
Fave to use on my Mr. Mouth-Barks-A-Lot Border Collie/terrier cross – “Stick a sock in it before I do!” To one of my bigger dogs, an ASD who likes to bowl anyone and everyone over while jetting around the yard, and Mr. Mouth HATES getting stepped on by her – “If you stomp on him and he tries to eat your face, I’ll let him!”
Kate An says
Very funny! Being almost a Southerner, I threaten my pets with a lickin’. But the best was when someone in a campground got in my face for calling my dog an Asshole. I wasn’t; his name was Ansel.