So, I kind of lost my shiznit on the dog about a week ago after he nearly bit one of the twins because well, she touched him. Our friends Liane and Roy have a rescue dog and have thankfully done years and years of dog training research, reading, trial and error so that they can pass on their wisdom to me in quick 10 minute cliff's notes intervals - which we're hoping to use, along with our Tivo being set to It's Me Or the Dog - US of the occasional tip and for that little bit of validation that at least we're not as bad as the people on TV.
Step 1 - The upstairs is a no - dog zone. For now.
This is good because:
- He can't piss on my bed if he can't get to my bed. ( I told you he was a jerk )
- He can't piss on the twins' stuff if he can't get to the twins stuff. Well, the stuff upstairs anyway. He got the RaRa Tree House play set this afternoon. The bastard.
- He can't growl at the kids while they're sleeping
- Apparently this is going to set some sort of boundary with him, that the kids can go upstairs and he can't because he's lower on the great family totem pole. The cat is on the top, and has made this very, very clear.
We expected to have some very rough nights with Huar Huar howling, yowling, dirty protesting on the sofa and unleashed hatred and revenge upon us and the twins. But nothing seems to have happened. He's cool with it for the most part. We've got a baby gate at the top of the stairs (not yet at the bottom. Parents of the year, right here ) and he just hangs out either downstairs all night or at the top by the gate, but not technically upstairs with us.
I'm quite happy with this, and after a full week of him being a "downstairs doggie" I'm going to claim this one a win:
US: 1 Dog: 0
We're going to keep him downstairs, until he's stopped being an overall jerk about everything else. However, if he keeps this up he may not get shipped off to Canada after all.