As part of my efforts in persuading Doug that we should get another dog, I have taken on the role as designated pooper scooper. As I scooped, shovel dragging behind me and bucket filled to the brim, the Bean looked on from a distance.
I put down my shovel narrowed my eyes at her. “Bean, look at the mess you made all over the yard. This is disgusting. There’s no need for it!”
She put her ears back and looked away.
“Come over here and look at this,” I demanded, pointing at a pile by my feet. “This is no!”
Slowly, she stood up and began to slink away.
As I continued scooping, I imagined that she could understand my words and respond to them. Here is the fantasy conversation I had with my dog:
“Hey, Bean. About this mess you’re making all over the lawn….”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I saw that you stepped in it the other day and ruined another pair of shoes. I’d reimburse you, but you know how it is with the economy and all.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. I’m just wondering if in the future, maybe you can walk an extra twenty yards or so and go in the woods? No one really walks in there, and that way, no one will step in it.”
“Sure, I can do that. Is that all?”
“Well, there is one more thing. It’s the barking. When our neighbors walk by the house, and when we have visitors, and, well, every time a leaf flutters from a tree, you don’t need to tell us about it. You’re terrorizing the neighborhood, and you always seem to make a point of doing it during Anna’s naptime.”
“No barking. Got it.”
“But I still want you to bark at the bad guys,” I continued. “Those are generally people who sneak in the house in the middle of the night. You’ll know who they are if they’re wearing dark colors and throwing steaks at you. If you see one of them, you can do that Cujo impersonation you do for the mailman.”
“Bark at the bad guys…check. Anything else?”
“Yes. When I let you outside, try to stay out longer than two minutes before you ask to come back in. Likewise, stay in the house longer than two minutes before you ask to go back out.”
“Sure. Shall we shoot for, say, half-hour intervals?”
“How about an hour?”
“Done.”
“Just a couple more items…when you drink from your water bowl, try not to splash it all over the floor. It would be great if you could wipe your paws on the mat before you come in the house. And if you see something dead, don’t roll in it.”
“No problem! Hey, as along as we’re talking, those car rides are great and all, but I’m wondering if you can go easy on the brakes?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry about your nose in the dashboard the other day.”
“And about the Max beef-flavored bits for seniors. I know what it says about a glossy coat and strong teeth, but it would be great if you could change it up a bit.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“And who are you calling a senior, anyway? I’m barely a day over eight.”
“Seeing how you’re so young and fit, you need to start fetching things for me just like every other dog. Slippers, newspapers, the remote control, all the essentials. You need to start earning your keep around here. Understand?”
“Woof.”