Screaming, Slobber and a Severe Case of Puppy Trauma

End of Chapter 3

The score was Olive 1, Seth 0. But the game had just begun, and Olive was about to find out that I wasn’t playing fetch, I was playing chess.

Chapter 4

CHECK MATE BIOTCH! It was another trip to Iowa and this one was off to a good start because my arch-enemy was wearing a bark collar.  Pleased as I was with this measure, I had the uneasy feeling that something had to go awry. And oh was I ever right.

Next thing I know, I’m standing there like a small child, hand outstretched to feed Olive a treat. If anything, the dog should’ve been giving me treats for goodness sake! Apparently we have a dog treat surplus in the American economy which probably links back to The American Dog Epidemic. One time someone commented on my blog and said they would give their dog a treat just for being cute. That’s basically like saying, “Hey Jennifer Lawrence, you’re cute. Lemme give you a million dollars,” which is of course ridiculous. I don’t think people do that… do they? Either way unless my dog does something good, like sit, stay or star in a multi-million dollar movie, they’re probably not getting any tasty handouts from me (besides the necessary dog food meals of course). Despite my sentiments, there I was, handing out treats like a soccer mom on Halloween when, “Just hold your hand out flat like that, there you go.” Oh my gosh I know how to hold a beggin’ strip.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I was done giving out treats. It was a horrible feeling. I can’t describe what having to give those treats felt like. I believe that it was the closest I’ll ever get to prostitution or selling my soul. It only created a deeper emotional ravine between the man and the beast. “I’m sorry she barked at you like that last night. She was just afraid you know. And she’s very protective of Leah.” I wanted to just scream “Your dog is bat-s*** crazy!” but I didn’t.

Things weren’t going to get any better either. If my first trip to Iowa and first clash with Olive was a nightmare, this second trip turned into a tormented opium nightmare. You see, the bark collar didn’t last long. Before the morning was done, the collar was gone and Olive was ready to wreak havoc.

First there were the small children. I was sitting on the porch reading when I heard small voices. The voices were getting closer and Olive raised her head.  A young mother appeared on the street below with her two children on bikes. The girl looked to be about 6 and the boy maybe 3 or 4. Olive stood up. Please no. The mother and her children were walking toward the garage of the house directly next door. Surely this isn’t going to happen. But I knew it would. If only they had left on the bark col…

An unbelievable barrage of barks ensued just as the neighbors got to their door. The mother and daughter both jumped and the little boy toppled over, his bicycle with him. Then there was barking and crying and screaming and slobber and tears and probably a severe case of puppy trauma.

Then as if terrorizing small children wasn’t enough, she focused on a new target, which was an old nemesis. And that old nemesis, was me. We were sitting at dinner. It was pretty typical so far. Sally, the cat, jumped on the table several times and was scolded severely. Olive stuck her nose in everyone’s lap looking for a bite and was gently pushed away. You can understand, Sally is a very bitter cat.

Dinner was almost over when Leah mentioned that her computer wasn’t charging, so I grabbed the charger and walked to the nearest outlet which just happened to be by Olive’s overflowing food and water bowls. I reached down to plug it in, when another outbreak of challenging barks and growls made everyone bounce in their seats and myself nearly jump out of my boots. What was it this time? The bitch looked like she was about to rip my heart out and sacrifice it to her demon dog ancestors.

“OLIVE!” “What’s the matter sweetheart?” “DOWN OLIVE DOWN!” “Oh… she thought you were taking her food. Just move away from her food.” “Olive… naughty girl. Bad girl.” “She’s being protective of her food.”

HEAVEN HELP ME! PEOPLE YOUR DOG IS AN EVIL HELLHOUND BITCH! She makes the Doberman pinscher in UP look like My Dog Skip. She makes rabid ole yeller look like the K9 Advantix puppy. She makes the pit bull in White Fang look like Bolt in that awful Miley Cyrus movie. She makes the Hound of the Baskerville look like Lassie.

“That’s it Olive. You’re in timeout.”

“Gee I’m sorry about that Clint…”

Wait… what?! Who the heck is Clint?


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