Therapy It Is, And It’s Not Even Thursday

I was all set to write a post about my awesome little mini-holiday, and how I compared myself to Paul in my head the whole time we were at the cabin, but as I got the first sentence in something happened. It was weird too, because I had just entered I Can Be An Asshole in Dude Write 9. If you don’t feel like reading it, it’s a post I did about dealing with things after our oldest had part of her ear bit off by a dog.

I started writing, and listening to some Jimmy Bowskill, when I heard the dog snarl and snap downstairs. I kind of waited for a second, wondering if the girls were playing with Blue or something. They weren’t. I ran down to find out that T had sat next to him, and he snapped at her, and then growled afterwards. She was on the other side of the room by now, so I grabbed the dog, very hard, and fired him in his crate.

What the fuck?

We had just come back from a beautiful time at the cabin. He wasn’t tied up, and had the freedom to run in the woods, fight raccoons, and shit wherever he wanted. This was for five days, and he loved it. He would run all day, and then sleep until he had enough energy to run all night. If he was near us, he was beat. I mean beat, as in tired, not beaten. We brought him home, and he went to sleep on the couch, right beside Mrs. Birdman as she read her book. We went to ball, lost by one to the Castleridge So and so’s (Amber touched my bum), and came home, when I then took him for a walk to have a pee. He didn’t really feel like going out, but he did anyhow.

As we were leaving for the walk, the girls came home from their dad’s house. We did our walk, and then went home, where we went about our usual business. I went to get my Dude Write entry in before the deadline, and Blue went back to the couch.

As I was sifting through the 74 blogposts in my reader and also the DW posts, I was thinking about the best way to write my post about our fun little excursion. Should I start with a funny bit about going camping (so to speak) with four pre-teen girls and Mrs. B? Maybe a lament about how I had taken over Paul’s role as head of the camp and how much I wished he was there to give me shit for dropping the trailer in the middle of the driveway or some other thing that wouldn’t matter to anyone but him. Should I start off with how I taught my new bride to play cribbage, and she handed me my ass in a sling the first two (and the majority of the others) games, and how I would feign being upset with her, by punching, hissing at, or cursing directly at the deck of cards. We sat and played cards for hours, and I really enjoyed it. It was pouring rain, so we sat at the big pine table and played crib while I introduced her to “Johnny and Kenny” by the amazingly funny Glace Bay duo, Maclean & Maclean. It took me back to when I was young, and watched people play that took the game seriously. Those guys (sometimes girls) would get so mad at each other for any mistakes, so I would learn quickly to not play with them. There was one guy that I really enjoyed playing crib with, and it was my friend Aaron’s dad. We were in camp, and after supper we would play a few games before bed. He never got too worked up over anything, and it made playing cards so much better. It was actually enjoyable again. I don’t miss Helmet, but I do miss the games.

As you can see, I’ve touched on a lot of the things that I wanted to, but the thing that’s been keeping me up until the sun is starting to come out, is Blue.

 

The problem is that the girls are afraid of him. O wasn’t, but since the attack, she is afraid to discipline him, and neither of the girls really pay much attention to him. They were very upset when I punished him for snapping and growling at T, and maybe I was too hard on him, but I don’t think so. I know it hurt him when I grabbed a handful of his shoulder, and carried him to the crate, because I could hear him crying. I didn’t strike him or anything, but I don’t know another way to let him know that that kind of behaviour is not acceptable. He was just warning her, but I can’t let him act like that with the girls. He knows that they are afraid of him, and he took advantage of that. He has growled at her before when she has gone near him while he had a bone or treat, and I tried to discipline him right then by allowing her to take his treat and then allowing him to have it.

I can’t have anyone get bitten by him, even if it’s just a nip. Not everyone has the confidence needed to battle a dog, and I don’t know how to give it to them. I’ve been bitten a few times in recent years, and I don’t pull back. I grab them by the throat. The girls can’t do that, and they shouldn’t have to.

He likes to sleep wedged into things.

In a few hours, I’m going to call All Creatures Great and Small to see what Heather recommends we do. We obviously need professional help, because as good as I am with animals, I can’t pass that ability to an eight and a ten year old. A professional might be able to though. I guess we will see, because we don’t want to have to send him to Beaner and Stanley’s house unless it’s a last option.

I’m tired, and I need to think some more about this, so I’ll be dragging my ass to bed in a minute. I guess I’ll let you know some other time, how things went.

Well you’d see her round about closin’ time, sitting at the bar, she’d let some loser buy her a drink, and then stagger out to his car,

Birdman

P.S. Here’s the Johnny and Kenny bit. It’s fucking hilarious.

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10 thoughts on “Therapy It Is, And It’s Not Even Thursday

  1. My sister has two dogs, and they fought the other morning when I was there. I am pretty sure they are going to give one away, though it breaks their hearts. Just too much risk with a new baby involved…

    I hope Heather can help you find the solution.

    • Yeah, I know that it’s animal nature, but you can’t take chances with small children. My sister and I were taking her kids somewhere when the little girl was just a baby. She was in her car seat and their dog jumped in the van. She asked me to get him out of there, and when I reached in front of my niece to get a hold of his collar, he bit my hand, drawing blood in a few different places. I had to drag him out of the van by the neck and hold him down on the ground until he stopped struggling. As soon as I let him up, he tried to get back in the van again. He wasn’t there by the end of the weekend. They took him to the vet and were told that parts of his body were failing. They thought he could go to a farm, and the vet said “No. He’s old, in pain, and needs to be put down.” That was two years ago, and she is still afraid of dogs, but she’s getting better. What would she be like if the dog had bit her face, which was 6″ from my hand? I’m glad we don’t have to know.

  2. My daughter was seven or so when we got a puppy, who was trying to get to the butter dish on a counter. My daughter walked up and started to pull her down, but spooked her and she reacted by nipping her on the stomach.

    As the dog nipped at her, she realized what she was doing and pulled back. She didn’t mean to bite anyone, it was just a reaction that she then tried to take back. But she got through the shirt and (just barely) broke skin. We called animal control to see what they recommended. “It doesn’t matter what we recommend,” they said. “Once a dog bites a person for any reason other than self-defense, that dog has to be put down.”

    I was fine with that as the dog was very aggressive with our other dog, and frankly I think she had a screw loose, but wow, there was no wriggle room as far as animal control was concerned.

  3. So what was the decision? You can e mail me the answer if you like. Tell the girls I am sendign them something. Hugs to you and all the girls.

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