I pride myself on keeping my cool. No matter what reaction is happening on the inside my demeanor is usually calm (sometimes my expression gives me away but that is a rare occurrence). I think this ability to control my reactions has been instrumental in my professional success and perhaps the success of my marriage as well. Most of the people who work or have worked with me would likely comment on my ability to stay calm. There are a few people on this planet who can cause me to loose my mind; my sister (who is never on the internet, so won’t read this blog), and BRODIE.
I am a big believer in Labradors (dogs) with manners, who know how to behave in public, who do not run amuck, who listen & obey commands when given, etc… While I try, Brodie is not a testament to a well-trained dog. He does have some manners, but we are not at a state of perfect. One recent Saturday we were on the houseboat; enjoying a nice weekend. He had been for a 3-mile walk off leash on the levee and I struggled to keep voice control over him; several times had to re-leash him. When we got back from his walk I put him in his crate for a while – to give me a break and to have him rest & regroup. Later in the day he got to swim and play – for hours. He was struggling with normal commands – drop it, leave it, etc… and I didn’t like his level of agitation with the kids (he was constantly pestering them to throw his toy). I was yelling too much and my frustration was building.
When the day winds down on the houseboat we take showers, wash away the grime of the sunscreen and the river, get refreshed, and start preparing dinner. Wine is poured and snacks are placed outside. Friends come from boat to boat and visit as the twilight takes over and we all get ready to settle down. I enjoyed my shower (brief as it was) and when I emerged realized my 3.5 year old Labrador had PEED inside the houseboat. This is similar to a dog peeing in your house – a grown ass dog – peeing in your house on your carpet. I went into frantic mode; first wanted to hide it from my husband, second wanted to avoid the smell of pee inside for all of eternity. I grabbed some towels and diluted the pee with massive amounts of water and started to soak it all up. I was not successful in avoiding my husband, he came in, saw what I was doing and was immediately angry. Friends came and went as is the tradition and nodded that yes, in fact the boat would likely smell like pee for eternity unless I wanted to replace the carpet. This was my fault, not his, I am clear on that in hindsight, but during the heat of the battle things aren’t always that clear. I should have taken him to shore before taking my shower, my bad. Debate is still out on lingering smells – as it’s only been a few weeks and I am not overwhelmed with pee smells upon entering the boat.
The last straw with Brodie that day – a ride to the shore for his last potty break. It involves a paddleboat and me holding onto him so he doesn’t jump into the River (no one wants a wet dog at night). I took him to the shore, fighting him the whole way not to jump in, and then for the roundtrip. I gave him the command to jump up onto the houseboat (staying dry), and he chose to jump into the River. Are you kidding me, it is 9:00 at night, I now have a soaking wet dog and a soaking wet me. I secured the paddleboat and then lost my cool completely!
I grabbed hold of him and threw him to the deck (aka ground), covering his entire body with mine. I grabbed his neck and held it to the ground to get him to submit. He fought me, struggling to get up and to toss me off of him, I persisted and luckily I outweigh him 60 lbs. Reminder at this point – he is soaking wet, has not even had the chance to ‘shake’ the water off his coat, and I am laying on top of him. The actual part of loosing my cool was not the physical act, but the fact that I was also screaming my head off – yelling – words he mostly wouldn’t understand. After what seemed like an eternity he finally relaxed into submission pose and I held him for a minute longer before letting him up.
If not for all my screaming no one would have known that was happening. Everyone was centered around food/snacks/wine and wasn’t paying attention to me until I made them with all my yelling and crazy rants. Worse, a co-worker happened to be visiting that weekend, and saw the whole debacle. My professional coolness now in question. He has offered to see if ‘the guys’ at work can push me to that limit just so that everyone can experience ‘when Brandi looses her shit’. I have advised him that is not recommended.
For his part Brodie was submissive for the remainder of the night – which amounted to only an hour or so before he was crated for the evening (one day I will write the story of Brodie swimming alone, in the middle of the night, in the river, while Mark and I slept – you’ll fully understand why he is crated at night on the houseboat). The next day it was as if nothing had ever happened. Was it a bad day for him, a bad day for me, for both? I don’t know – but I don’t wish to repeat it anytime soon.
CAPTION: I would like to think this is shame the next day; but it is really his tired face
A few days later I was recounting the story to my hair stylist – she asked – did you bite his ear? Excuse me, No – I did not bite his ear. I had never heard of this before, so I researched it. Apparently people see that as a viable training method, but mostly for puppies that you are trying to break of the biting habit. The debate online regarding biting your own dog is interesting – there are some strange people out there – that is all I can say about it. If it had turned out to be legitimate, I might have considered it, although the thought of dog hair in my mouth is a definite turn off. As for me and my Labrador, we will continue to work out our relationship, but I don’t believe it will involve me biting his ear!
brandinarvaez
Living with a Labrador 