The Dog! On a Leash!

9:27 p.m.

I am very, very, very, STUPIDLY EXCITED. We've had the dog for about 11 months, and for the first time tonight, the dog and I WENT FOR A WALK.

Monk is a bad dog. A very bad dog. I mean, he's nice, and smart, and we love him, but...he's also stubborn. And he didn't understand much about leash training. Rather, he didn't care to learn about leash training. At all. He's 75 pounds of purely athletic muscle and frenzied excitement. Incredible strength, combined with sheer badness...let's just say I had almost given up completely.

(And don't worry, he gets plenty of exercise running around like a MANIAC in the yard, and playing fetch, and chasing squirrels, and digging holes, and spinning in circles, and destroying random objects. And we went for car rides, and we devote a ridiculous amount of time each day to playing with the dog.)

(If only I could be as in shape as the dog. If only.)

But I really, really wanted to walk him on a leash like a normal dog. And take him to the park. Etc.

So tonight I decided to try the prong collar one more time.

(And please don't send me hateful emails about how cruel prong collars are, because DO YOUR RESEARCH. It's not cruel if you use it correctly. And it can't hurt his throat.)

And he sat when he saw the leash. He sat! And he sat by the door after I put the leash on him. I didn't even have to tell him! Compare this behavior to his normal lunging and dancing like an idiotic raver. And our normal waiting period of 15 minutes comanding "SIT" over and over and over before his ass briefly touches the ground before he antsily starts leaping around again. And you, my friend, you will be impressed.

So I put the collar and leash on him, and we went out the door, and he tugged once, and the prong collar...pronged. He whimpered a little, and looked at me, and after eleven months, a light bulb went on in his mostly empty brain. And he started WALKING NEXT TO ME LIKE A NORMAL DOG. Tail wagging, happy doggie smile on his face, walking next to me at a steady pace. He didn't pull, he didn't tug, he didn't jump or lunge or spin or stop or set anything on fire or sell kids any crack. He just walked.

A breakthrough!

A breakthrough!

We walked for 30 minutes, all over the neighborhood. People petted him. He laughed and acted like he's always been a staggeringly brilliant angel. He was all, "Oh, this? This leash? I've been walking on this leash for simply centuries! It's nothing. Next I will be learning calculus. After I perfect my Latin. Naturally."

Naturally!

He totally used a fake snotty accent, too.

When we got home he peed for a million years, and then I praised him and praised him and hugged him and he was doing that dog grinning/laughing thing. I can't wait until tomorrow. To walk the dog!

Imagine that.

Walking the dog!

black sheep