The Dog and My Mother In Law

I am entertained.  This is like a Shakespearean play put on by monkeys and directed by a 4 year old.  This is like discovering that your regular old Internet has been replaced by Google Fiber overnight and the first thing you do is illegally download every crap movie you ever wanted to watch including the directors cuts of movies that you know have great boob shots.  I would pay Broadway prices to get this level of entertainment too.  But I don't have to.  I am in my living room.  I am sitting back with Bacon Hoss laying on my chest.  I am not watching TV.  I am not reading a book.  I am not even surfing for porn.

I'm watching my mother in law argue with the dog.  Again.

My mother in law has been in town the last couple of days to help with the new baby, something that I very much appreciate.  I have been able to sleep through a whole night now and once, I got to sleep in too.  I would murder anyone of you just for that right there.  No offense, but with new kid comes no sleep so when my mother in law offered to help, I nearly cried.

Everything has gone pretty smooth so far and I am happy.  But I am getting much happier as my mother law argues with the dog.  Seriously, this is gold.

"Khan!" she yells.  "Get down!"

The dog, of course, does nothing.  He's a fucking dog.

"Down I said!"

I think she thinks if she points out that she said it that he will somehow understand it.  He does not.  He eats poo when I let him outside and licks the pee off our other dog.  He's gross and I think gay, but we love him.

"Khan!  You are in my spot!"  my mother in law informs him.  I'm not sure she understands how this works.

She wants to sit on the couch with my wife.  When eventually she gets there my wife and her will get a blanket and snuggle in for the night.  I will pass over the new kid and happily head to bed.  But not before this show is over, I'm hoping for an encore.

There are several things that make this extremely funny to me.  First off, this is the same argument that she has had with the dog yesterday, the day before yesterday, the evening of yesterday.  She will have the same argument tomorrow morning, the day after tomorrow and probably in her dreams when she is back at her house.

In her first argument I pointed out that all of my dogs come equipped with a handle.  It's a harness collar that I keep on both my dogs, the fat one and the pretty gay one.  Now Khan is 60 pounds of muscle but he's a big wuss.  I love him for that.  Looks great, scared of his own shadow.  So I informed my mother in law that all she had to do was grab his harness and pull him off where ever she wants to sit.  In fact, I have told her this in the first 5 arguments that she has had with the dog.  I don't think she believes me.  I could help, but to be honest, I'm enjoying this.  I did try to help  Just grab the harness, that's it.  Grab and a small tug and he'll do all the rest.  It's the same advice I give my wife.  That has meanings and multiple levels.

I don't know why she hasn't listened to me but thus is life and sometimes you just need to sit and watch life.  I enjoy it.

"Khan!  Down!  Down! Down!"   He still doesn't move.  I'm about to start laughing but that would be rude and probably ruin my fun.  "That's my spot Khan!  Down!"

This is another mistake.  She thinks that this is her spot.  I hate to disappoint her, but it's not, at least not to the dog.  The dog lives here everyday and he goes to 2 spots, either the couch or my chair.  His decision is based on which one I'm not sitting in.  He's knows that I am the alpha in the pack so he will kindly take second fiddle.  The only time he doesn't is when we all snuggle up together and I do enjoy that.  Three kids and a dog makes for a happy life.  This makes for an entertaining one.  My mother in law doesn't seem to realize that to the dog, this is his spot.  That he was here before her and will be here after she leaves.  In his mind, and no disrespect here, she is below him on the pack food chain.  I would tell her that but then she may not let me sleep anymore and I like my sleep.

"Rouse!" she says and points at him.  "Rouse!"

This almost breaks me.  You see, when my wife was younger and had dogs, my mother in law taught them the word "Rouse."  It means down or go, I'm not sure which.  Somewhere along the way she has assumed that all dogs must know this magic word even though I have never, ever taught them what this word means.  I thought with their behavior she would figure out that they don't speak English much less German.  Most of our communication with the dog is not verbal.  I snap my fingers and point alot.  They promptly ignore me.  It's a relationship that works well for us.  However, my mother in law continues with "rouse!"  The dog stares at her some more, because again, he's a fucking dog.

Now I know that my mother in law will think that I should teach them the word rouse.  And I should teach them not to get on the furniture, or jump on people, or not to drink out of the toilet.  She probably considers me a very weak dog owner and she would be right.  However, I am completely ok with this.  I love my dogs.  I think they are awesome.  I love the rough housing.  I love the snuggle time.  I love that every night when I go to bed he jumps up there with me and gets right on my side, right where he belongs.  I love that he knows when I need a lick, that he knows steak is hands down the best food ever.  He loves me, unconditionally, all the time.  He's earned his spot on the couch and I am ok with him there.  He's my dog and I love my dog.

"Down, rouse, out, off, get, dog!"  She continues.  I wake up Bacon Hoss just so he can see the reenactment of Hamlet going on over here.

Eventually, the dog decides that he has had enough of this person screaming random things at him.  He jumps down and gets on the floor.  My mother in law sits on the couch and grabs her Ipad, finally victorious.

Soon she realizes that she has forgotten her glasses and gets up to retrieve them.

The dog quickly jumps back on the couch.

I smile.  I am entertained.  I wish I had a bic that I could now light and hold in to the air.   

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