Every Dog has its Way

March 26, 2010 at 9:09 am (funny, Mental illness)

Today’s daily awesomeness (http://twittertales.wordpress.com) ended well – but it started badly.

My friend Hannah is staying with her parents, who are Dog People. My SO and I picked her up from there to have lunch.

I developed a strong aversion to Dog People when I lived with a pregnant woman who wanted to have a home birth so that her dogs could be there. That was some years ago, but I haven’t recovered. I don’t like LOOKING at dogs. To me dogs are like desperately insecure people who make you feel wretched just by looking at you. (I like cats, because when cats look at you they don’t look needy – they look like they’re thinking about whether your belly or face will taste nicer when they eat you to death. Refreshingly honest, in my opinion.)

Hannah’s parents have two dog calendars in their kitchen, two life-size stone dogs in their yard, and two rather neurotic real dogs. The dogs are looked after VERY well. Each has their own armchair, which sits facing out the front window so they can harass passers-by in comfort.

One of these dogs, Rocket, hates me.

He likes Hannah. He loves my SO. He HATES me. And I hate him.

Dogs often dislike me because I wear long skirts, and when I walk the movement freaks them out. So as soon as my SO and I walked in he growled at me, and didn’t stop growling despite my best dog etiquette (crouch down so I seem smaller, don’t meet their eye or show my teeth, hold out my hand palm-down, speak quietly). No; I lie. He did stop growling sometimes – to bark outright. I speak enough dog to understand the tone of, “Get out! I hate you! You are not welcome here!” All this while simultaneously fawning at my SO’s knee (which I admit is a nice knee, but REALLY).

Did I mention I dislike dogs?

So eventually I was able to get past the foyer and sit at the kitchen bench. Rocket stayed on the other side of the bench, growling without pause as Hannah told him off, took chocolate slice from the fridge, cut it up and generally prepared for a picnic. I attempted to dominate Rocket by deliberately staring at him in hopes that I could be the alpha dog, but that didn’t work either.

The second dog doesn’t like me much, but it had gone over to its seat to stretch out in the sun. I came up with a cunning plan: I stood up (slowly and carefully) and moved over to the other dog.

“What a GOOD dog!” I exclaimed. “Aren’t you a good dog!?! Good good girl. Aren’t you just SO GOOD!”

Within two minutes Rocket was sitting at my side, silently pleading for a pat.

Because even bullies just want to be loved.

PS Does anyone have a fish tank (or a large salad bowl. . .)? S#78: “Adopt a Pet” is my planned awesomeness for 2 April, and since I have two cats, I plan to buy some fish.

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