We got our dog right before the pandemic hit last year. It was February, and we had promised the kid we’d get a dog someday, and it just seemed to make sense that now was the time to get a pet, as, sadly, our cat, who my wife had for over 19 years, had recently died. There was a void in the family with not having a furry animal around, and the wife found a rescue agency that was looking for good families. Which, sure, that’s us.
And the dog was a good fit. She is great with the kid, and likes to curl up under the desk, or right next to you on the couch. She’s also great with new people: neighbors in the building, and people we meet on the street. She’s even great with kids who like to get close to her.
But our dog hates all other dogs. And I mean, she goes ape shit trying to get after another dog to rip its face off. When I walk the dog in the morning, I have started to notice that other people with their dogs are avoiding me. I don’t blame them, really. My dog wants to kill their dog.
Yes, we need to socialize the dog, or take her to obedience school, or hell, find a video on YouTube.
But we haven’t done any of this. I mean, there is a pandemic going on, and remote school, and unemployment.
But… I have another, sadder, lazier, and more evil idea, and before I say it, yes, we will get the dog trained…
Our dog who hates other dogs, that seems like par for the course for us as a family. I mean, we can’t have a perfect dog, right? There has to be something wrong with her, because that’s how real-life works. A flawed dog makes life more interesting.
Or at least this is what I am telling myself.
