Saturday, November 18, 2006
There's No Escaping the Truth
Daisy discovered her voice about two days after she moved in. I was sound asleep at
I knew enough about training dogs to know I had to wait for her to stop her shrill vocalizations before I could let her out of her kennel. Otherwise, I knew, if I opened the door while she was still shattering my eardrums with her screaming, she would connect wailing with a good reward and she would think she should scream whenever she wanted anything! So there I sat on my bed, with Pup, who had also been happily sleeping when all hell broke loose, hysterically running in circles around the kennel, barking and trying to understand what was happening. I shushed Pup, to no avail, and I talked to Daisy, trying to cajole her into calming down so I could open the kennel door. And believe me, what I wanted more than anything…more than Christmas, and a million bucks, and world peace all wrapped up in one, was for Daisy to SHUT UP so I could open the door of the kennel to let her out.
I think you are probably ahead of me on what happened next. Yes, I let Daisy out of the kennel while she was still screeching. I just couldn’t take it for one more second. I thought I might suffer permanent hearing loss and since I am getting on in years, I didn’t want to risk my good hearing before old age just naturally robbed me of my faculties. So sue me, I caved. I let her out, and the silence was almost painful. My ears throbbed and I felt a bit loopy, like I was in a dream. Daisy squirmed all around, her fat little butt going one way while the rest of her body went the other. She did her best to jump on me, kiss me, and cuddle with me. Is she trying to make up to me? I wondered for just the most fleeting of moments, and then my head cleared and I knew as sure as I know the sun will rise, she wasn’t trying to make up to me. She was trying to give herself pleasure. And at that moment I realized that the whole world was meant to revolve around Daisy. Those of us who fall along the wayside are simply here to entertain her. My life was irreversibly changed. I was the prisoner of a Boston terrier.