Skyping With the Kitchen

I just Skyped with my kitchen.

Mike has turned into a thief. We could have a slab of raw meat on the counter and it be safe from him. But leave out fruit or veggie? Gone.

Last night Lorna made us stuffed peppers. She had the top half or so of the two peppers left over and she carefully sliced them into small pieces to use in a salad. I kept snitching pieces and got my hand slapped. I gave the boys a bit of the pepper and they both ate it (Sam is a meat man, not so much on the other food groups). Lorna takes the pan out to the grill and I return to the office. A few minutes later, Lorna comes in, pissed as heck.

All of the pepper on the counter was gone. She had pushed it way back, thinking that was far enough. Nope.

Mike is short, right about knee level or so. But he’s long. He’s removed the banana peel from a bowl without moving the bowl or moving the spoon. He’s eaten steamed veggies from the bag in the sink, without knocking over the container of water that was balanced over it. He’s pulled stuff from the sink without moving anything else in there, going right for the veggie or fruit.

So yesterday I had a “talk” with him. With dogs, you have to catch them in the act to make your point. They allegedly cannot make the link between you shaking the ripped up shoe at them and the act of them ripping the shoe. Allegedly. I think some can make that connection, but most cannot. Anyway, I took him by the collar and led him back to the kitchen. I put his feet up on the counter and pointed to the remains of the pepper (the furthest few bits that must’ve been out of his reach). I then began talking. Not yelling, not shaking him, just talking. I told him that we’d had enough of this. That stealing was not a good thing. I then took him out on the back porch and continued our discussion. I used not just words, but mentally visualized him taking the pepper and me getting mad at him. I visualized him looking at the pepper and leaving it alone and me petting him like mad. I looked him in his chocolate eyes and told him we were disappointed and angry and, you know, stuff like that. His ears got flat against his thick skull and his eyes got more and more chocolately. He was channeling his inner Joella. I didn’t fall for it but I wanted to.

I then made him stay outside and I shut the dog door.

The trick to disciplining a dog is knowing what works with each individual dog. Jake was stuck in her own little world and the only way to get your point across was to get physical. You had to hold her head, bop her nose, or shove to the ground. Zeus hated to be separated from us. Hated it. So for him we made him leave the room. Sparky, for all his lack of brains, for him, talking worked. He and Lorna used to go out on the back porch and have discussions about his inappropriate behavior. For Maggie, it was vocal tone and body position. I was once telling Lorna something I had seen on television and it involved hands on my hips, feet apart, and the “I’m so disappointed in you” voice. Maggie slunk out of the room.

Mike’s not a physical dog. Being physical with him won’t work because the trauma from it would take away from whatever lesson there is to be learned. Talking to him hasn’t seemed to work in the past. So I tried a combination and this time, included separation. He was only outside alone for maybe two minutes.

So today I peeled an orange, ate most of it, gave him a bite. I left the peel on the counter. Then I cut up an apple, leaving the core and a few other bits also on the counter and I gave him a bite of that, too. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then I put the laptop on the stove, aimed it toward the counter, and used Skype to view the kitchen from the office on Lorna’s computer.

And the little shit never touched it. He sniffed at it twice. Never put his feet up. Even the sniffing was just a second or so.

Instead, he stayed with me, giving me that chocolate look again. Did he make the connection? Did he read my mind and knew I was setting him up? We know Mike is a smart dog which is why I hoped the talking worked. My bet is that it was too soon. I’ll give him a few days and set him up again.

Comments

  1. Delightful tail! Thank you. We will discuss this with Beastie regarding her VERY LOUD licking obsession. Thank you. And thanks to Beth and Elaine for sharing this.

  2. Excessive licking can be so many things both physical and psychological. If it is psychological, it is a big indicator of stress or boredom, especially feet licking.

    Sam has anxiety issues. He even takes Pepcid at meals. He’s not got a delicate stomach so the vet thinks it is all anxiety. When he is under stress, he licks his feet.

    If Beastie does this, whenever she licks, give her a toy instead. Or play with her or go for walk or whatever.

    Joella had skin issues (allergies) and licked a lot. I told her that she could lick herself raw, just not where I could hear it. She got to where if she really wanted to lick/chew, she went outside. That’s when we knew it was time to watch her to make sure she really didn’t lick herself raw.

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