Day 236: "Don't make me come up there!!"

Ok I think I have a slightly better appreciation for what my mom had to endure, essentially being a single parent of three monster children while her husband was stationed in Vietnam, twice.  With my daughter now moved back in and bringing with her a dog and a cat, this house is full of four-legged creatures that are chewing on my last nerve. 

Cesar, don't give me that "pack leader" shit about taking charge, showing them who's boss, working with them, training them.  If I can get all four dogs to use the doggie door to take care of business then my work is done.  Anything else is pure gravy.  Being the single pack leader here I don't have the mental of physical bandwidth to provide each and every mutt 10 hours a day of dedicated training.  I do the best I can when I can, they aren't completely neglected.  I think my Sophie is pretty well trained and knows to mind me.  Roscoe is just a whack job and no amount of training will get him to settle down.  Belle continues to refuse to acknowledge that she's a dog and pretty much keeps her distance from all the animals unless she feels compelled to join in on their bark fest when the UPS truck drives by.  Benji, being the new edition, just follows the lead of the other dogs, taking on all their bad habits. 

When I was a kid and my sisters and I would terrorize each other, fight over any and all things in the house, I can remember my mom bellow out, on more than a few times, "DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE!!!"  Well, I tell ya, that was pretty much the voice of God.  It was enough to create a cease fire, if only temporarily, because none of us wanted to face the wrath that would smite our backsides with great, stinging vengeance.  There were no discussions, no learning lessons, no compromises based on fairness and logic.  It was all about shutting the hell up and giving mom 15 minutes of silent bliss.  "But she took my....", "Well he broke my...."  "I DON'T CARE!  JUST SHUT THE HELL UP AND GO TO YOUR ROOMS!  NOT ANOTHER WORD!"  Ahhh, I miss my childhood. 

Much like how our moms plopped us in front of the TV, I shove a bully stick into the mouths of my canine monsters if only to give me a few minutes of peace and quiet.  The bully stick is the TV for dogs, in case you haven't noticed.  Roscoe is completely neurotic and can't sit still.  Sophie paces, wanting attention every five minutes.  Benji is a pup and just wants into everything, including Belle's space which pisses her off to no end.  The only way I can achieve peace in our time is to give each a bully stick that should keep them busy and quiet for at least a good five minutes.  It is the true olive branch of peace.  But like all children, once they get their treat, they immediately try to steal from each other.  I swear if they could talk I'd hear, "Why is Sophie's bigger than mine?"  "He stole my bully stick!"  "You love her more than me!"  "I HATE YOU!!"

And my response?  "That's IT!  I've had it with ALL of you!  Go out in the back yard, ALL OF YOU, and leave me alone!  Just wait until your mother gets home!!"