“Now then little Monty,” I have a massive fake grin plastered on my face, as instructed.
“It’s fascinating you’re chewing my PlayStation controller to bits. But look what I’ve got, yes look my little princess.”
I wave an organic hyperbolic something treat in her face. I toss the treat to the side of her. She scurries away after the brown little morsel leaving the discarded controller tattered on the ground.
Monty, if the puppy books are to be believed, is merely expressing her endless creative capacity as a dog with terrier like qualities, by gnawing to shreds whatever he happens to find strewn over my living quarters.
This includes, but isn’t limited to: receipts and slippers, dead bits of cacti, pieces of broken glass, residues of e-liquid, a certain spot of the kitchen wall, skittles and his favourite: bits of grass and dirt she’s somehow managed to drag in from outside.
The dog only shows interest in the small fortune I dumped on toys after I’ve done my monthly house clean.
Monty is a 7-month-old Chihuahua and everything she does is so special that I just want to cuddle her to death. Monty won’t drop anything when you tell him. Monty ain’t coming when you call. Monty keeps humping the Winnie the Pooh toy like a sexual deviant. Monty basically just does what she wants.
She (the breeder confused the genitalia – he’s not transgendered or anything) sleeps on the bed, has her favourite spot on the couch, and is basically queen bee of the hive and rightly so. I am in fact incredibly fortunate that my dog has a lovely temperament and hardly ever barks or causes any problems other than those outlined above.
But what about the rest of them, those awful lefty parents raising their dogs with these progressive methods?
What indeed. The final straw came last week when she stole a particularly sharp piece of chicken bone, paraded it in my face and pranced off into the other room. We then spent 5 minutes circling the sofa as I tried not to show anger or any negative emotion, which could irreparably scar and thus stifle this puppy’s confidence as a fully matured adult.
Remember, the book said, we no longer associate negative triggers or emotions with certain words or sounds; don’t say ‘drop it’ or scream ‘noooo‘ in an angry voice – say ‘boo-hoo’ or ‘cheese’ and toss a treat beside her left foot, remember always stay positive. As for doggy recall, shout ‘come’ in a happy voice, clap once, then run, offer her a treat when she positively responds.
Eventually, it all got out of hand, and as expected Monty was organising my life for me. But starting from today, that’s all over. I’m putting my foot down. She will come when I call and sit when I say. We’re going old school, back to basics. I don’t care if the book disapproves – it’s my dog.