He's really not that evil. Well...not all the time anyway. Like when I get home from work and he is SO happy to see me. He demands at least 10 solid minutes of petting, sweet talk and belly rubs, which I am more than happy to provide. We don't have kids, thank (insert spiritual deity of choice here) and it's kind of nice to feel needed and so responsible for something else. Plus he's super-cute, right?On the other hand...
He's definitely a...um...challenging pet. I've wanted a dog for so long, but I'm not into yappy little rat dogs - I wanted a big guy. Years of loft and apartment living didn't lend themselves well to acquiring that kind of dog , so we waited. Then we moved into a house, but didn't have a privacy fence (for some reason we thought this was necessary in order to have a dog. I now know why. More on that later). Thankfully, it wasn't too long until our evil neighbors' kids annoyed us to the point that we were willing to do whatever it took so we wouldn't have to look at their dirty little faces everyday. For us that meant building a privacy fence ourselves in the 100+ degree summer heat. But, oh my God...so worth it.
Anyway, we had the fence...time for the dog. We went to the SPCA and I (yes, I am taking blame) selected the cutest, fluffiest, sweetest natured puppy there. All was good for a few weeks...then the biting started. If it weren't for the tiny puppy teeth he had at the time, I'd be typing this post with my toes. We took him to "the best dog trainer around" and she kept him for two weeks to whip him into shape. When we picked him up, she told us he was the worst dog she'd ever seen. Encouraging. Then we hired another trainer to come to the house. Again...no improvement.
SuperHusband and I really struggled with whether or not we should take DevilDog back to the SPCA. I know, we're evil, lazy and cold hearted. But until you've had bloody scabs all over your hands, legs and any other area of exposed flesh...don't judge me.
So...30,000 bites later, we decided to keep him. He's not as mouthy these days. Instead he barks. And barks. And barks. There's a break in our fence and he goes crazy at every person who walks by (now we know why we needed the privacy fence - imagine the constant noise if he could see all the exciting things going on on every side of the house!). If we're outside and not playing catch, he barks. If anyone other than SuperHusband and I is in the house, he barks. The only time he didn't bark was when a friend who had to work late come in during the night and went into our spare bedroom to crash. Instead of barking to alert us of the "intruder," DevilDog snored.
As I type this there are men working on the telephone pole by our house and, of course, DevilDog is barking his ass off. I don't care. The door is shut and I can't hear him that much. Plus the neighbor kids are outside and I think I'll annoy them for a little while...
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