Jessie is about twelve and a half years old now, which is starting to be “old” for her breed(s). She can still take off with some speed if there’s a squirrel, but she’s more likely to just stroll back into the house than take her signature flying leap across the front porch.
In the past she was always an “outdoors-during-the-day” dog since both Ronnie and I would be at work all day. Since I’ve been at home most days for a while, she’s now gotten very used to being in the house all day instead. She’ll lie on the couch or on the bed or under my desk, but the bottom line is that she’s gotten used to being a comfortable, “inside” dog all day long.
When she does have to go outside for a few hours while I’m off running errands or doing some job hunt thing, she fights it. She never did this before – outside was just the way it was, no big deal. Now she knows that she would very much prefer to stay inside (she’s old, it’s comfy inside!), so when the call comes to go outside, she now finds a place to hide. Even with a handful of doggie bones or treats to lure her out into the back, she’s not buying it, hunkering down on the bed or in the bathroom instead. When I have to drag her off to the back door, her ears back, her tail between her legs, it can really be a hassle.
I like to think that I’m smarter than she is. (Others have their own opinions…) This morning I was short on time and didn’t want to fight with her, so my logic went like this:
- She hates going out in back.
- She loves going out in front.
- She loves taking out the trash.
- I’ll take her out front, take her over to the gate to the back yard, open the gate, she’ll run in to go by the trash cans, I’ll shut the gate (and make sure it’s closed tight), problem solved!
It worked like a charm. Except…
What I hadn’t counted on was that horribly sad, hurt, and betrayed look she gave me as I walked away to the car. She pushed on the gate a couple of times, testing it, then just hung her head and looked at me from underneath her eyebrows with those huge, brown, anime-like eyes. What a horrible human being I was! What a cruel, sadistic monster!
My plan may have worked, but I’ll be going to hell for it. And not that fun one where all of my friends are, either.
For the record, when I got home, she was blissfully asleep in the shade under her favorite tree, so zonked that I walked halfway across the yard hollering her name before she woke up. Of course, all of the dog treats that I had left out for her were gone. If she remembered that I had “done this to her”, she was not upset enough to turn down the dog treats she got when she came inside. In short, it might have been just a bit less horrible and cruel than she had let on. (But we all knew that, right?)
We Love The Stars Too Fondly 