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I’m mad at my dog.

I know. Ridiculous, right? Being mad at a dog is akin to engaging in an argument with a screaming two year old at the Walmarts. In retrospect, both are losing propositions which make you feel like an idiot. Some battles you just can’t win, you can only strive to do better next time.

On a typical day, Buddy Love the dog sleeps in until around 7:30 in the morning, which is when it’s time to walk the girl to the bus stop. He looks forward to this routine. He enjoys the short walk with the added bonus of being able to pee and poop in someone else’s yard–to spread the Buddy Love, if you’ll pardon the horrible pun.

This has not been a typical week, nor will things return to normal anytime soon because my daughter has been assigned safety patrol duties for the next 5 weeks. This means that rather than taking the bus to school, I drive her. It also means that Buddy is awaken from his beauty sleep a few minutes early and is plunged into the cold, wet, unforgiving, all-too-familiar grass of the back yard and expected to do his business as I stand there impatiently yelling words of encouragement such as, “Come on, dog! POOP already! I don’t have all morning!”

Thus far this week, this has resulted in Buddy’s refusal to take care of business outside, rushing into the house, through the master bedroom and into the closet. Where he took care of business. This scenario was replayed the following morning, except that I prudently shut the bedroom door so he could not rush to his go-to poop spot. He must have seen me do this before we went outside, because once in the house, he ran toward my son’s room. Where he took care of business just inside the door where I would be sure to see it.

Any of you reading this who are familiar with dachshunds are probably either laughing at me or rolling their eyes. Quite possibly both. Because if you’ve owned a wiener dog, you know a little about their personalities.

From Dog Time: Dachshund Dog Breed Profile:

The Dachshund is described as clever, lively, and courageous to the point of rashness. He’s bred for perseverance, which is another way of saying that he can be stubborn. Dachshunds have a reputation for being entertaining and fearless, but what they want most is to cuddle with their people. For many Dachshund people, this characteristic outweighs having to deal with the breed’s insistence on having his own way.

Buddy Love is essentially the dog version of me.

This pretty much sums up dachshund training.

Why is Buddy Love refusing to take care of business outside in the morning? I’m pretty sure he’s mad at me, too. And he wants me to know that he will not poop on command just because I’m in a hurry. In other words, I’m not the boss of him.

"Walking" Buddy

I’ll spare you the heights of ridiculous stubbornness both of us have engaged in this week, including but not limited to a phone call to my husband at work (who is extremely busy) to gripe about how stubborn and aggravating this little dog is, followed by this incredibly mature text sent to him after spending 30 frustrating minutes outside with the dog:

Despite our ongoing battle of wills this week, from the moment I sat down to write this post until this very moment, Buddy Love is where you will find him most days–snuggled up right next to me, and I am enjoying his company as I always do. Because companionship, loyalty and love cover a multitude of sins.

Editor’s Note: In Buddy’s defense, he never pees in the house. A fact I’m very grateful for.

Saturday, December 6 (at least I think it’s Saturday…I have no concept of time)

The people have left me again. I thought I had adequately expressed my desire that they not leave again the last time they came back from a prolonged departure. When they returned, I showered them with appreciation and pee. I licked their faces incessantly like they were giant, leftover bones from a spiral sliced ham left carelessly in the trash can. I must have gotten the less intelligent people. Oh yes — they have left me again.

I do not like this bathroom. The floor is hard and cold and the woman has removed the delightful snack bucket usually sitting next to the giant, porcelain water bowl. No — I do not like this bathroom.

I should have known this day would not be a good one. The man was not here last night and the evil little one who squeezes me and attempts to make me walk on two legs crawled into bed with the woman. I allowed her a small space on the man’s side of the bed, but only because I was attempting to sleep a bit longer before I was expelled from my warm, cozy cocoon and forced to poop and pee in the cold, wet grass behind the house.

To add insult to injury, the small evil one and the medium sized one with the white strings hanging out of his ears constantly did not wake up and complain about their breakfast and argue with each other as they do on most mornings. Alas, it must be the weekend. And since the woman got in the shower instead of sitting down to make clicking sounds on the grey box with the white face, I knew that I would be in this bathroom for a long time.

I will protest their leaving as I normally do. I will refuse to eat from the orange bowl. For now, I will chew on the side of my bed for several minutes before taking a nap.

(Dog awakes from nap: time elapsed, unknown; they have no concept of time.)

What is this? It is long past the time when I need to pee and poop again! Where are those people? Now I am angry! How can I show them my disdain? (Sees heavy terrycloth bathrobe hanging from a hook on the bathroom door.) I will show them not to keep me locked up in this little dungeon! (Begins tearing apart bathrobe.) That will make them open this door! Where are those stupid people?

(Sound of the garage door opening.) Well, finally! Let me begin barking incessantly. Here they come; here they come. Hello…huh? Why is the dark haired man who talks a lot and plays the guitar here instead of my people? Oh, never mind. I like him anyway. I will lightly sprinkle his leg with pee as is my customary greeting. Oh, thank you, thank you! Let me wiggle as much as possible while you attempt to put a leash on me! Hurry up now before I embarrass myself. (Dog and man race out of house, take a walk and take care of business. Returns to house.)

So, will you be staying until my people come back? Where is the rest of your pack? Your little one is not nearly as evil as my people’s little one. Your welcome. Whoa, why are we going back towards the bathroom? Don’t you need to use the Internet connection or something? How about a quick game of Wii? Oh, come ON! (Man puts dog back in bathroom.)

Now I am very angry, but talky guy took away my giant red chew toy. Curses! Where is that cat? Perhaps I can entice him to stick his arm under the door so I can bite him. (Dog begins to whimper.) No? Bummer… I hate that cat.

(Dog chews on bed until its outer rim is completely soaked in dog slobber.)

Okay. I give up. I’m just going to sleep. Perhaps I’ll dream of ways to avenge this false imprisonment. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…

(Sound of garage door. Dog awakens to find it is completely dark outside.)

Well IT’S ABOUT TIME!!! I suppose I will forgive them again just this once. I AM actually very happy they are home (even the evil little one). Here I am! Here I am! Come let me out!

Note to self: For the next several days, take an inordinate amount of time to “do you business” outside, especially when the people seem to be in a hurry. Also, pee on one of the throw pillows in the family room. Of course, this goes without saying, but don’t forget to poop in the dining room. Mwha, ha, ha, ha!

Sincerely yours,

Buddy Love

Editor’s Note: A special thanks to Beth, whose post Ceiling Fan: A Love Letter was the inspiration for this post. Also, thanks to my rude but loveable dog, Buddy.

Saturday, December 6 (at least I think it’s Saturday…I have no concept of time)

The people have left me again. I thought I had adequately expressed my desire that they not leave again the last time they came back from a prolonged departure. When they returned, I showered them with appreciation and pee. I licked their faces incessantly like they were giant, leftover bones from a spiral sliced ham left carelessly in the trash can. I must have gotten the less intelligent people. Oh yes — they have left me again.

I do not like this bathroom. The floor is hard and cold and the woman has removed the delightful snack bucket usually sitting next to the giant, porcelain water bowl. No — I do not like this bathroom.

I should have known this day would not be a good one. The man was not here last night and the evil little one who squeezes me and attempts to make me walk on two legs crawled into bed with the woman. I allowed her a small space on the man’s side of the bed, but only because I was attempting to sleep a bit longer before I was expelled from my warm, cozy cocoon and forced to poop and pee in the cold, wet grass behind the house.

To add insult to injury, the small evil one and the medium sized one with the white strings hanging out of his ears constantly did not wake up and complain about their breakfast and argue with each other as they do on most mornings. Alas, it must be the weekend. And since the woman got in the shower instead of sitting down to make clicking sounds on the grey box with the white face, I knew that I would be in this bathroom for a long time.

I will protest their leaving as I normally do. I will refuse to eat from the orange bowl. For now, I will chew on the side of my bed for several minutes before taking a nap.

(Dog awakes from nap: time elapsed, unknown; they have no concept of time.)

What is this? It is long past the time when I need to pee and poop again! Where are those people? Now I am angry! How can I show them my disdain? (Sees heavy terrycloth bathrobe hanging from a hook on the bathroom door.) I will show them not to keep me locked up in this little dungeon! (Begins tearing apart bathrobe.) That will make them open this door! Where are those stupid people?

(Sound of the garage door opening.) Well, finally! Let me begin barking incessantly. Here they come; here they come. Hello…huh? Why is the dark haired man who talks a lot and plays the guitar here instead of my people? Oh, never mind. I like him anyway. I will lightly sprinkle his leg with pee as is my customary greeting. Oh, thank you, thank you! Let me wiggle as much as possible while you attempt to put a leash on me! Hurry up now before I embarrass myself. (Dog and man race out of house, take a walk and take care of business. Returns to house.)

So, will you be staying until my people come back? Where is the rest of your pack? Your little one is not nearly as evil as my people’s little one. Your welcome. Whoa, why are we going back towards the bathroom? Don’t you need to use the Internet connection or something? How about a quick game of Wii? Oh, come ON! (Man puts dog back in bathroom.)

Now I am very angry, but talky guy took away my giant red chew toy. Curses! Where is that cat? Perhaps I can entice him to stick his arm under the door so I can bite him. (Dog begins to whimper.) No? Bummer… I hate that cat.

(Dog chews on bed until its outer rim is completely soaked in dog slobber.)

Okay. I give up. I’m just going to sleep. Perhaps I’ll dream of ways to avenge this false imprisonment. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…

(Sound of garage door. Dog awakens to find it is completely dark outside.)

Well IT’S ABOUT TIME!!! I suppose I will forgive them again just this once. I AM actually very happy they are home (even the evil little one). Here I am! Here I am! Come let me out!

Note to self: For the next several days, take an inordinate amount of time to “do you business” outside, especially when the people seem to be in a hurry. Also, pee on one of the throw pillows in the family room. Of course, this goes without saying, but don’t forget to poop in the dining room. Mwha, ha, ha, ha!

Sincerely yours,

Buddy Love

Editor’s Note: A special thanks to Beth, whose post Ceiling Fan: A Love Letter was the inspiration for this post. Also, thanks to my rude but loveable dog, Buddy.