Being that it is about to be a new year, I have been mulling over resolutions that I should make. The truth is, you and I both know I am not going to keep resolutions much longer than the effort it takes for my brain to think them up. So my only resolution will be to stop making them.

Instead of resolutions,  I have decided to let you in on some revelations about the four-legged canine you are living with. No offense, but you do know that dogs are too smart to follow humans advice and we are the one’s in control. We just let you think that you are in charge. As the comedian Jerry Seinfeld once observed, ” Dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them’s making a poop, the other one’s carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge.”

Before you scoff at all of this as just a dog wishing it were true, I have some scientific data to back up my claims. In an article titled, ” and I promise I am not making this up,” “Your Dog is Too Smart to Follow Your Dumb Human Advice,” a study published in the journal Developmental Science found that; ” when you give your dog bad directions; it’ll learn pretty quickly to ignore them.” Not to be snarky, but wouldn’t that be nice if male humans were that smart when it came to directions?

But, I digress. In the study, 40 pet dogs of varying breads were recruited by Yale psychologists whom you think would be smarter than the dogs. They conducted an experiment where a treat was placed inside a puzzle and all the dogs had to do was lift the lid to get the treat, but the psychologists, thinking they were sneaky added a fake lever that didn’t actually do anything. To make sure the dogs were actually trying to solve the puzzle, rather than following a perceived command, the psychologists left the room to watch what the dogs would do.

It didn’t take long for my canine cousins to figure out that all they needed to do was open the box to get the treat. The funny thing about this is that this was based on a similar study done with children in 2005. Compared to the dogs, I’m sorry to report that the children weren’t so savvy.

So, if it makes you feel better, go ahead and keep believing you are the ones in charge of your dogs. We’re happy to let you continue your delusions, while we sleep on your couch in the house that you paid for. Happy New Year!!!

 

Twas the Eve before Christmas and all around the house,

Doc was frantically cleaning, like a busy little mouse.

We hung up our stockings and left out a treat,

so that Old St. Nick would have something to eat.

Too weary to stay awake, I curled up on the couch,

just to rest for a moment and then I passed out.

As I drifted off to dream land, I was suddenly awakened,

by a bang and a thud, that was simply earth- shaking.

Glancing toward the noise, I was elated to see,

my old friend Santa Clause, looking back at me.

“Well hello there Grover!” said the jolly old elf,

“How have you been, have you been behaving yourself?”

” Oh yes dear Santa, I’m still helping Doc,

to comfort the patients that need a friend and to talk.”

Then Santa sat down, and patted my head,

looked me in the eyes and lovingly said,

“Grover, you are the Christmas spirit, all the year through,

and your joy and compassion, is the most beautiful part of you.”

You love unconditionally, without prejudice or fear,

and that is how powerful your spirit is, my dear.”

And never forget, that Doc needs you too,

when she becomes weary, I am counting on you,

to provide her with comfort, at the end of the day

by staying beside her until all her worries go away.

And then Santa gave me a kiss on the head,

rose to his feet and jovially said,

” Merry Christmas sweet Grover, I’ll see you next year,

It’s time for me to leave with all the reindeer.

And before I had a chance to respond, Santa Clause was already gone.

As I gazed out the window, I saw in the sky,

Santa’s sleigh in the starlight, rising ever so high.

As sad as I felt, to see him leave, I know he’ll be back next Christmas Eve.

So Merry Christmas to all, may your dreams all come true,

and your life filled with love the whole year through.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 The majority of people would just relax and enjoy a November day that hits 70 degrees. Not Doc, she took advantage of the warm weather by giving me a bath. Most normal dogs of my status are taken to a groomer. I know this for two reasons; the dogs that I play with at the dog park tell me about the fancy dog spas that they go to and Norman, the puppy next door came over the other day all dolled up after being groomed at a place called Bark Avenue. Nothing fancy like that for me, no sir.

So here we go into the garage for a bath that Doc calls Hillbilly Dog Wash. I guess it’s an ode to her Appalachian roots. Out comes the hose, shampoo, a bucket and an old stinky towel to dry me off . First she hoses me down right where all the neighbors can see me. Out of the corner of my eye I can see that little Miniature Pincher across the street snickering as he stares at me soaked down like a drowned weasel. She even scrubs down my private parts.  It’s so humiliating. Then out comes the bucket of water to rinse me off. After that I shake off the water and she dries me down with that dirty towel she keeps hanging on a rake in the garage. By this point I’m thoroughly agitated and I run around the yard like a mad man. It’s hard to even look at her after that experience.

Later in the day when I am dry enough to be allowed back into the house I ask Doc like I don’t already know the answer, “Why can’t I go to the dog spa like all the other dogs I know?” She bursts out laughing like it’s the funniest thing she has ever heard in her life. I can feel myself turning red as she answers, ” I’m not paying someone $60 dollars to give you a bath.”

You just wait until the next time she is ready to walk out the door for her monthly pedicure at that fancy spa the Grand Salon.” Hey Doc, why don’t you stay home and paint your own toe nails for free? “

Did I remember to tell you that Doc started her Christmas shopping well before Thanksgiving? These days Doc hates waiting for Black Friday. She went one time with her niece Jennifer and she swore she would never do that again. I am glad, because after you hear what happened you will know why I hate Black Friday too.

About four years ago after Thanksgiving dinner Jennifer and Doc decided to shop the next day thinking it would be fun. They planned ahead by plotting their route based on the best prices they found in circulars and on-line.  I watched from afar, amused by how much time and energy humans will exert to buy more stuff. If I can’t eat it, sleep on it, or sniff it, I have no use for it.

Early the next morning Jennifer arrived at Doc’s with an extra-large coffee in hand, caffeined up and ready to go. Both of them in running shoes and athletic wear, they were dressed for battle. They looked so intense, I decided to stay out-of-the-way until they left.

Their first stop was Wal-Mart. Jennifer instructed Doc to get a cart and lead the way to the toy department.  She told Doc in a firm voice, ” Don’t make eye contact with anyone, they’ll take it for weakness and swoop in and grab what we want.” Steely eyed and focused, Doc used her 5’9″ frame to look over the crowd. The pushing, positioning and blocking between shoppers would give the Ohio State Buckeye defensive line a run for their money. Apparently there’s nothing more important to humans on Black Friday than scoring the hottest gift at a discount.

After spending hours in crowds of people, standing in lines and spending gobs of money, they finally made it home. I heard them stumble in the door and they were carrying bags and bags of stuff. They both fell back onto the couch exhausted, swearing they would never do that again.

Reaching inside one of the bags , Doc excitedly pulled something out. ” I got you an early Christmas gift.” As I approached I saw a pair of reindeer antlers. “What are those for?” I asked like I didn’t know. And with one swift move they were on top of my head. I tried to look pleased, but all I could think about was how humiliated I would feel when Doc put the picture she took of me in those stupid antlers on Facebook. So now you know how I came to despise Black Friday without ever putting one paw inside of a store.