So…I’m kind of a bad puppy mom. I forgot to make a big deal of my puppy’s birthday and, as a result, it completely slipped past us this year. Last year I wrote this big sappy long post for his big day, and this year there wasn’t even a footnote. Not that he cares, of course, but I care a little.
In other canine-related news, we have a neighborhood pest. Not the bedraggled, scrappy little pup who wanders the ‘hood in search of children in trouble and vulnerable desserts just waiting to be knocked from window ledges. This pest is confined to his yard. Where he barks. All day and all night.
Since when is it ok to just let your dog bark all the time? Outdoors? When you live in the ‘burbs and your neighbors are all working very hard at the jobs they need to excel at so they don’t lose their 1,000 square feet of dream lifestyle?
This dog sounds like it weighs about ten pounds but has the vocal chord strength of a gaggle of angry chimps. It barks all night and during sporadic times in the day, which leads me to believe the owner brings it inside sometimes. Which then leads me to assume said owner kicks the stupid dog out at night. Which I assume is because it’s a yappy mess of a creature.
Listen, I get that barking dogs are unpleasant. They’re loud, they do it for any and all reasons, and they get all riled up about it. However, I’ve heard there are these amazing breakthroughs in behavioral manipulation (called “basic training” to responsible pet owners) that can prevent this kind of thing from becoming a problem.
Now, I’m not saying we’re perfect. Doc barked his little head off for the first month we left him outside in his kennel during the day. He wasn’t happy and he wanted us back and it was all too tragic. We let him know we didn’t appreciate his noise by setting a reliable routine and chucking tennis balls at his cage (thereby making a scary rattling noise) every time he barked. Now, he goes outside and stays there with nary a peep.
We’ve taken a lot of pains to ensure our puppy is not a menace or a pain to anyone but us. He doesn’t pee or poop in anyone’s yard but ours. He doesn’t bark. He’s never off leash. He only kisses and plays with people who tell us they want his affection. He’s a model dog, and we love him to pieces.
But, we had to work all three of us to the ground to get there. It just really makes me mad that this person couldn’t be bothered to do the work he/she should have done to be a good neighbor-who-is-also-a-dog-owner and now we all have to suffer for it. Our backyard abuts about five other yards, so it’s kind of impossible to ascertain the menace. It could be the cocker spaniel who lives in what Wes and I suspect is perhaps a meth lab (or forgotten portal to Narnia). Or it could be the papillon who lives with the neighbor whose tree fell in our yard and nearly smushed our kennel.
Rest assured, however, that if I ever figure out whose dog it is, I will be sorely tempted to invest in some pooch-safe narcoleptics that will be swiftly tucked inside treats and hurled over the fence. I am sorry. I work a ton. I need rest, and for me the sound of a yipping dog is just about as far away from restful as it gets. If that means drugging someone’s dog with Puppy Ambien for a night? I’m all for it.