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At Home with a Serial Killer

It's been seven months since the last time we saved Sophie the Pug from the jaws of Pearl the Aussie Shepherd after they got into a fight to the death in the backyard. Scott and I still have scars from these battles, hard won scars that we got trying to tear Pearl's razor sharp teeth from Sophie's neck.



Last November, we hired a dog trainer who came highly recommended. He gave us some really great tips, and promised us that the dog fights would end with a bit of intensive training.

I'd like to say his advice worked. I'd like to say that my dogs now sit quietly by my side, and eat calmly, that they play tug-of-war and sleep between us.

That is not our reality.

Our reality is that Sophie and Pearl will never, ever be friends, or even frenemies. The truth is that they cannot be in the same room together unless tethered in some way. It's not just Pearl, by the way. Sophie is also an instigator. Early this spring, Scott let Sophie loose in the yard while I was tying up Pearl. She quickly made her way over to Pearl and me, and started something. It was only because I had Pearl on a lease that she didn't hurt Sophie, or me.

We have a strict regime now which gives us peace. For portions of the day, Sophie stays downstairs while Pearl and Viggo cavort in the yard, and play in the living room. For portions of the rest of the day, Pearl is locked in the bedroom with her weasel and some water. Rinse and repeat.




When Scott gets home, he takes Pearl and Viggo out for a run while Sophie and I prep supper. Then Pearl goes into her lair and we take Sophie out with Viggo, who is the big winner in all of this. Viggo gets along with both dogs, so he's allowed free rein of the house, and is caged only when I go out.

Crates are a must with labs. I once had a lab who died after getting loose and eating a bowl full of oatmeal chocolate chip muffins the nanny made. Viggo has similar instincts, and he's capable of reaching up into the cupboards to get into lots of things that could kill him.

Scott and I have long stopped sleeping in the same room. He takes Viggo and Pearl. I take Sophie.

That's the way it is, and the circumstances will not change until somebody dies.

I've stopped feeling bad about our circumstances. There is nothing I can do.

When you get a dog, you get all the dog's problems, and have to accept their nature. I love all three of these idiots, and I'm not looking to rehome one of them, Pearl especially, because I believe strongly that she will become one of those foster dogs who gets sent to the pound because she bit another dog.

She's not allowed off leash around other dogs, not ever. How can I trust her when she's willing to kill her own roommate?

And Sophie is no slouch, either. A lot of people think pugs are these benign little creatures who slather us with affection and act as a hot water bottle on your tummy at night.



Pugs can be vicious. The late Gordon J. Blackstone spent months trying to kill my granddaughter when she was a baby. Thankfully, he got over his disdain for Skylar after she grew a little (though in all honesty, Gordie did have a stroke when she was two, and I'm not sure he even knew where he was).


I've heard that we all get the dogs we deserve, or need. Dogs teach us patience, and make even the most timid of us resourceful.

I don't know about that.

Sometimes, I feel like Inspector Clouseau with Cato waiting in the wings ready to pounce.

Dog ownership is not for the faint of heart.




Comments

  1. If we get the dogs we deserve, we've lucked out with Karma. She loves "everyone" - dogs, cats, humans, little humans but thankfully not porcupines or skunks. She is selective, thank goodness.

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