The Language of Dogs
Last summer I brought home a stray dog. She had been living in a ditch behind the court house, and was near starvation.
We didn’t need another dog. We really, really didn’t.
But she came home, after a week at the shelter. I thought I was taking her to a no-kill shelter (thank you, stupid internet directions!!!!) But the guy there said that there is no real ‘no-kill’ place…those places bring the unwanted animals to the shelter to be killed.
And since this dog was part pit-bull…I knew she wouldn’t survive.
So the dog came home with us.
And she and BR fell in love with each other. She’ll listen to me…as long as BR isn’t around. Then she’ll ignore me. She’ll follow BR, lay next to him in the house…his happy little bitch. She’s very much a doggy-dog…pack behavior and all that. Our Golden could give a shit about her place in the pack. Give her a treat, brush her out and she’s happy. But the new dog very much believed in pack order. Even to the point of pissing in the Golden’s dog food bowl or where ever the Golden’s treat would fall.
A lot of this pissing happened on the back porch. And in the summer, it can get stinky. It was driving me up the wall. She couldn’t be deterred despite other incentives or shaming.
So…being she’s such a doggy-dog, I decided to employ doggy attitude.
The next time she peed where the Golden had gotten a treat, I peed there. Not directly…the neighbors talk about us enough as it is. But I had caught some urine and then poured it over where the new dog peed. She went over, sniffed at it, then gave me an ‘eat shit’ look as I walked back into the house.
It happened once more on the next morning treat…and I ‘peed’ again.
The pissing has stopped.
And now she’s no longer BR’s dog. Apparently I’m the head bitch of the pack, even over him. In the house, she follows me and lays down by me. She’ll go visit BR after he calls her, but will return to me.