She's about eighteen times bigger than this now.
Her paws are bloody enormous. And usually muddy. And usually on my sofa.
And I love it.
I had stalled as long as I could. I spent several months and a small fortune earlier this year remodelling the kitchen and redecorating the drawing room. The sofas were all recovered in taupe linen and the walls painted a pale yet tasteful Farrow & Ball. A dog, in my opinion, would be smelly, muddy and destructive. The bots and Colonel disagreed.
Continuing to stall, I made the bots write and present a PowerPoint of 'Why We Need to Get a Dog' which featured much clip art of winsome pups and a very complicated poo-picking-up schedule in which we would all play our parts with gusto. The Colonel told me that a Weimeraner wouldn't shed, since it is very short-haired. Also, that they were the most intelligent breed of dog and could therefore be trained to respect my property and probably even appreciate paint charts and picture hanging options. He also pointed out that she would be the exact colour of the sofas, so even a tiny stray hair would be completely invisible.
We sneaked away, he and I, one week day to meet the puppy and be interviewed by the breeder. She startled me somewhat by barking on about 'submissive bitches' but apparently was not referring to me. The puppy we chose wobbled towards us, bright blue eyes shining, from the tangle of limbs and tummies in the barn. Smitten? She was prised out of my arms and I actually cried in the car on the way home. Waiting four weeks until she was old enough to come home with us felt like a lifetime.
When we all went back to get her, the bots had no idea what we were doing; keeping the puppy secret for four weeks just about killed me, but the dawning joy on their faces as they realised we were keeping her and it wasn't just a sick torture I'd dreamed up, was something that will stay with me for ever.
It took two weeks for me to rescind on the not-on-the-sofas rule and just over a month on the no-upstairs-and-DEFINITELY-nowhere-near-the-beds one. The Colonel did the first training class and refused point blank to go back. This is, after all, a former Commanding Officer who had definite views on being reprimanded by a badly-dressed woman with no military training. I went for the second one. After all, how bad could it be? She demanded to know why I had chosen a Weimeraner when I'd never owned a dog before. She walked away in disgust as I got to the Farrow & Ball bit. We tumbled and giggled our way through the class, but were asked not to return as apparently being enchanted and amused by a puppy's disobedience is bad for everyone concerned.
The Colonel now has a rolled-up Property section of the Saturday Telegraph, secured with yards of gaffer tape. He calls it the 'Strumpet Management System.' I'm pretty sure it's for the dog, but he has shaken it at me on a couple of occasions. It'll take more than that to turn me into a submissive bitch.
this is a great post-& it seems she is training you well. they sneak in, conquer, terrorize and we become their prisoners. I found you through the Blue Remembered Hills, and am already a fan! la
ReplyDeleteEverybody told us that we needed to crate-train our Dalmatian. He was absolutely not going to put up with that. We lasted about a week before my husband said that dogs were pack animals, that he must be missing his pack, and therefore must sleep in our bed. It was cute when he was 20 pounds. At 80, less so. At least he kept to the foot of the bed. The female we adopted later likes to be under the covers. sigh.
ReplyDeleteAh, the fun of training a dog. I remember doing that years ago. He had so much energy, we had little patience. Now, he's an old gray dog who sleeps by the chair. Every now and then, though, he steals a piece of food from the kids. He has a littel spunk left in him. Good luck! :)
ReplyDeletePrecious post! To keep my two beagles off the couches in my house, I keep two comfy doggie beds in the den (two extras near the fireplace as they love to gaze into the fire...), two in my home office next to the desk, two in my bedroom next to my bed (careful not to step on them if I have to get up), two on the backyard deck, and they snuggle together on the sofa in the backyard shed. There! I trained them well.
ReplyDeleteThese comments have made me laugh so much!! Thank you all so much. I have taken great heart from the fact that I'm not the only pushover roaming this earth.
ReplyDeleteE
It's their eyes.
ReplyDelete"You just get yourself back over there on that bed and out of my kitchen, you hear?" Whew, pretty strong language, right? Had her shaking in her boots, surely. I swear to Gawd, she kept ONE back paw on the bed as she slowly inched her way back into the kitchen."
I was putty.
This was a joy to read. What a lucky dog.
Gail - absolutely! Are you hiding in my kitchen??
ReplyDeleteI love her look of aloof distain for whichever human is shouting at her for eating something she shouldn't...
Wonderful post. Reminded me of our dog and his training escapades. He has a Spaniel's big heart, and has succeeded in being allowed everywhere but on the bed. I think his training program for us has gone significantly better. He won't drink beer, but seems to welcome any amount of wine.
ReplyDeleteThanks, HTJ! Mine sleeps in a crate, but lands every morning on the bed looking longingly at the coffee.
ReplyDeleteWine would stain a lot less.
E
Best dog I ever had was named Duchess and acted just like one. She had beautiful table manners and would very daintily eat toast off a plate with me at breakfast. Hated every girlfriend I ever had and would sit in my lap at every opportunity. Still miss her...
ReplyDeleteAs for dog trainers- most are just sadists- to the owners as well as the dogs.
Like the Colonel's "Strumpet Management System".
Wonder, would it work on girlfriends??? Hmmm...
It might do, but it needs to be a publication of some gravitas or you just come across as an old git.
ReplyDeleteYou're so right on the trainers - she caught a chap yawning and bollocked him like some kid who'd dropped his chewing gum.
Hateful old tart.
Beautifully written, my husband and I are addicted. MY puppy classes lasted 20 minutes but I do think the Colonel should be sent back for more.
ReplyDeleteI found your blog via one or the other blogs that I read. Darling post. I am also married to a colonel, and he does not at all appreciate being told what to do. I, on the other had, crumble to bits in front of aggressive women.
ReplyDeleteIt's nice to have a voice from the UK. I miss the green of England.
KLS - so lovely to meet you and thanks for the comments. Speaking as a very aggressive woman, we are easily disarmed with unexpected compliments and/or alcohol. Now you know.
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Berlimey that made me laugh - the result of far too many training classes when I was younger and stupider. Now I just let the pack have it's way - all colour co-ordinated of course!
ReplyDeleteI will remember that gin and tonics and "aren't you lovelies" will work wonders!
ReplyDeleteI'm enjoying your blog tremendously.
Tattie Weasle, great name and love your blog - thanks so much for coming over!
ReplyDeleteKLS - thank you, comments make my day! Let me know how the charm offensive goes. Otherwise, set your Colonel on them!
Most of the trainers have been with the company since its inception and take pride in their involvement in the business. All of our courses are completely tailored to suit the delegate's individual needs. As can be seen from the testimonials, Keystar are able to marry individual training requirements to an informal and comfortable working environment, either on our client's premises or at one of our training rooms in London and throughout the UK.
ReplyDeleteRegards.
http://www.keystar.co.uk