Shelter-In-Place Day: 13

So, my neighbors, who live across the street, their adult sons who don’t actually live with them, but sometimes sleep in their garage, have been showing up this past week with an extra large Uhaul truck. They leave with the truck early in the morning, are gone all day, and return some time late in the afternoon. Today, they decided to park their huge truck directly across the street from my front door. Rosee, who barks at all loud noises and unknown vehicles on her street, started barking. The son driving the vehicle literally leaned out of his open car window as he was parking the truck and yelled and cussed at my dog because she was barking. Imagine, a grown man yelling and cussing at my dog who is in her own house. This guy was yelling so loud that even though I was working in my living room, with headphones on and my music turned up so loud that I couldn’t even hear my own television, I could hear him. At first I thought that someone was outside fighting, what with all of the cuss words being thrown around. So, I turned off my music and went to my front door where I see this crazy man practically threatening my dog. Of course, I go outside and stand on my porch and ask him “Why are you yelling at my dog?” This just redirects his attention to me and he starts yelling and cussing at me. I tell him she’s a dog in her own house and she can do whatever she wants, so stop yelling at my dog. Then he gets really crazy and starts ranting about how he didn’t know dogs had feelings, and didn’t I know that dogs can only see in black and white, and so on. I rolled my eyes at him and went back inside.

I ended up telling my mom about what happened and she went across the street to talk to the actual owners of the house, you know the parents. Of course, they’re not home or they’re busy. (They always are. . . ) So, my mom talks to the other son that had been with the one that was yelling at Rosee and me. This guy was incredible! He denied everything, said that I was the liar, and that I was the one who started the argument and “confronted” them. I said of course I confronted them, the guy was cussing at my house and dog and threatening us!

My mom came back home and as fuming as I was at the entire situation, a nice walk with Rosee, Simon, and the family helped me to calm down. (The milkshake my mom bought me didn’t hurt either.) By the end of the night the Uhaul truck had moved so that it wasn’t parked directly across from my house, and I haven’t heard a peep out of the neighbors since.

Morale of my long rant: Don’t yell at dogs in their own houses . . . because they are dogs in their own houses.

Also, don’t be afraid to stand up for your dog. This kind of seems to be a running theme throughout our blog here at Play Hard, Bark Often. Being Rosee and Simon’s owners have certainly forced us here to confront people who don’t understand that not all dogs are perfectly behaved and quiet little angels, and that’s okay as long as we, as their owners, are constantly working with them to be better. Being a dog owner is work, though rewarding work. Rosee is seven years old and we still have to work on her manners every time we go on a walk. Simon, now at the wise old age of eight, still gets too excited anytime we put on our walking shoes and starts to hump his bed – a work in progress certainly.

Truth is, I don’t need my dogs to be perfect. I just need them to be happy (and healthy, but that’s a whole other blog post just waiting to be written).

So take your perfect and imperfect dogs (or whatever animal you have!) and give them a cuddle from us here at Play Hard, Bark Often.

Sending you happy and healthy thoughts, and I hope your neighbors are nicer than mine!

(And next time I post, it’ll be something much happier. . .)

Expectations, 4th Birthdays, and Halloween!

The other day as I was perusing my newsfeed I came across a story written about a pit bull named Meli. The author, Katie Crank, shared the four things she “wish[ed] I knew before loving-and losing-a pit bull.” When I first read the title of this story, I thought for sure I knew what was going to happen: a person who maybe didn’t know much about pit bulls or more or less believed in the negative stereotypes adopted one and suddenly their mind would be changed for the better about these dogs. Yet, when I actually read this story I got so much more.

You see, Simon has been an easier dog to have, and it’s mainly because we’ve had him since he was a puppy. That’s not to say that adopting an older dog is a bad thing, it’s just easy with Simon because we know all of his issues. Adopting him so young allowed us to do our best to socialize him, put him in training right away, and just get him used to things from an early age. With Rosee, things have been a real learning process. We had to learn what makes her tick, if you will. I’m not going to lie either, Rosee has had her issues. She’s not very trusting of strangers, can be reactive to certain types of other dogs, and likes her personal space.

As I was reading about Crank and her time with Meli I honestly felt as if someone was finally articulating everything I’ve learned with and about Rosee, but have never really said out loud. For instance, as Crank explains there are so many things we, as human owners, believe that our dogs need to be able to do. They need to behave and walk nicely on a leash, be able to get along with other dogs, and general be social beings, just to name a few. However, our expectations of dogs aren’t always right for them. Some dogs aren’t necessarily very social, and that’s okay. As Crank writes, “it is absolutely ok for her [Meli] to say no.” (when it comes to not wanting to meet some dongs she may pass by) Dogs each have their own personalities, and much like humans not all are social creatures. Really, why should I expect my dog to be the most outgoing animal on the planet, when I myself am not always in the mood to interact with others? The point being that our dogs (pit bull or not, large or small, furry or bald) all have something they can teach us as long as we’re willing to pay attention.

Rosee may not be the “perfect” dog, but she is a loving dog who has taught me the fine art of cuddling, she often reminds me to let my voice be heard (even if I have to bark), to not worry so much about what other people think, and to be confident in everything I do. My family may have been the ones that adopted Rosee, but I know that she owns us. So much of what Crank wrote really struck a chord with me, and it was not just because it was about pit bulls. Rosee came into my family’s life at a time when we weren’t really even looking for another dog. Honestly, Simon was more than enough, and yet she gave us everything we didn’t know we needed. It feels like we’ve had Rosee forever. I can’t imagine a time when we didn’t have her. I mean, seriously, what did I do with myself in the days pre-Rosee?

Especially, this past year with a broken toe and a subsequent 8 weeks in a leg cast, an extreme case of hives, and everything in between, it’s amazing learning exactly how resilient Rosee and the rest of us truly are.

So, Happy 4^th Birthday Rosee and here’s to many more years of doggie escapades!

And to everyone else, all of us here at Play Hard, Bark Often wish you a frightfully fun (and safe) Halloween!