Jarbidge to the Oregon Trail

Two years ago, we acquired (for a hefty sum of money) this wild free spirit of a dog that terrorized my life. He was willfull, stubborn, dominant/aggressive (but not mean/aggressive), and disobedient. He was strong. He chewed on everything (including my glasses). He jumped up on people. He talked back.

One year ago, I wasn’t sure he would ever be a “good” dog, but he was showing some signs of improvement. He still had boundless energy and an insatiable hunger for anything left unguarded. He became an adept thief: store receipts, lottery tickets, hair bands, underwear, boots, tools, gloves… All of which he chewed on or ate.

He’s pooped a lot of paper.

This year, he had his testosterone clipped.

I noticed a difference immediately.

The whole dominant/aggressive act disappeared.

That’s all. He still chews, steals and talks back. But he doesn’t jump up on people (too much) and he doesn’t try to be Numero Uno. He has acquiesced to the Pack Order.

He knows where he stands.

“Help me. I have to share my sofa with little people. They won’t let me sniff little people’s bottoms. I am not allowed to chew on diapers. I have to let the little people pull my tail.”

He’s been so good. Zephan has taken to following Murphy around and popping him on the head, “No! No!” or pulling his tail.

Lately, there’s been a lot more of “No, Zephan, do not hit the doggie” than there has been “No! Murphy!”

Tonight, Zephan was sitting on the sofa watching “Sponge Bob” (who dreams up this stuff??) and Murphy climbed up there with his chew toy and curled up right next to the baby. Practically in the baby’s lap. His tail was in the baby’s lap. Talk about not learning.

“No, Zephan, do not pull the doggie’s tail!”

We moved Murphy to the other side of the sofa.

<sigh>. Quarantined to the far side of the sofa, what is a dog to do but look incredibly sad?