Training, teeth and leadership

It has become glaringly clear that this household is very firmly led by one small and infirm creature.  Her stiff legged strut says more in a second then days, weeks and months of my reasoning, begging and hysterical breakdowns.  How is it, I muse, that she so quietly and undeniably holds court? 

Lilly, now also known as Toothless Wonder or Passion Gap went in for a dental today.  It is times like these that I am grateful that dogs lack relevant vocal skills as well as the frontal cortex essential for abstract thought, for if Lilly believed in the Tooth Fairy, I would be seriously out of pocket!

You see, our benevolent leader has a heart condition.  For the past few months we have been locked in a constant battle between Lilly's love of junk food (alternately offered by The Long Suffering Man of the house and her doting grandmother) and a juggling act of diuretics, heart beat stabilisers and blood thinners.  Sometimes the pills win, sometimes the junk wins.  Who am I to deny an old lady her treats?  I am now convinced that if someone had to run a tox screen on Lilly they would discover more chemicals in her blood stream then in the Mummy of Nefratiti!  There are times, when pondering the inevitable disposal of her body, that I become concerned about whether cremation is the right solution.  Am I really willing to add so heavily to the massive amounts of chemicals pumped into the air on a daily basis.  Burying her is out of the question, there is the ground water table to think of!

I digress.  So, Lilly has a dicky ticker and due to the vet not being willing to touch her with anesthesia until her health is up to par, we have unfortunately let her teeth get to a point that I would not happily admit.  So, the vet has pulled six of them.  It is my sad duty to inform you that no where on Gods green earth can one find a grill for a Toy Pom mix.  Yes folks, there is a massive gap in the market for these if anyone needs a suitable business idea!

The observations I have made today are as follows.  Apparently this house turns into a morgue of monumental proportions when Lilly is not around.  How can an animal that could easily be used as a door stop inspire so much joy in three dogs?  I have no clue!  After she left, the household went from casual nervousness to lethargy to me considering the purchase of a stethoscope to check for signs of life.  These are three, young and vital dogs I am talking about here.  Three young and vital dogs of two notoriously high energy breeds!

In order to drum up some enthusiasm in the ranks I decided some training might help.  This is what got me thinking about how much training has changed.  Years ago I would have slapped on a choke chain and proceeded to gently coerce the animal into listening to me, and when I say gently I mean quite possibly cause irreversible trachea damage in an animal that does not speak "Bald Ape".

So, today I find myself tackling the issues of The Stairs of Doom.  Sally, having grown up in a back yard on a farm is quite convinced that Satan himself lives in the stair well.  Stairs are approached by hurling yourself maniacally up or down them with what appears to be very little use of legs.  How she gets this right?  I don't know.  It is quite a sight to see me carrying a stiff as a board border collie up and down a rather long flight of stairs.  Today I have decided that she must learn to climb them. 

The result?  I have just spent the past two hours laying on the stairs (which becomes quite uncomfortable considering they are tiles) cooing and babbling like some sort of mental home escapee.  Sally finds this all rather amusing and will stand at the bottom of the stairs and wag her tail and I plunge treat after treat into her mouth.  I am convinced she finds me quite insane.

What does not help is the fact that I train amongst a school of piranha.  It is very hard to Hansel and Gretel your slightly amused and mostly worried border collie up the stairs when you have to fend off two deranged Papillons desperate for a nom of the liver treats on offer.  It is times like this where I am greatly relieved that we do not have CCTV surveillance cameras installed in my house.  What would have been filmed would have been more YouTube worthy then a sneezing panda.  There I lie, perched precariously on sharp edged steps, babbling away, laying down treat after treat for the poor bemused animal (who it must be noted, is still quite convinced that the plot of Drag Me To Hell will be played out on this very stair well with her as the heroine) all the while fruitlessly trying to fend off two very small, very agile dogs.  I can only imagine how quickly the divorce proceedings would happen if Long Suffering Man were to walk in.  He is not entirely convinced of my sanity as it is and that may just tip him over the edge.       

So, it is with joy and a light heart that I announce, in just under and hour I get to go and fetch our benevolent leader. 
Lilly, my girl, I need you!!!!

I grow increasingly concerned for my sanity.

There are times, usually late at night, that I lie awake musing about how I got to where I am now.  Five years ago I adopted a small, rather mangy, unobtrusive little dog that caused no trouble other then her plethora of health issues, which, on a daily basis take food from our very mouths.  “That is it” I swore.  “No more”.  Ha ha!  If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.

I now sit, at 10.47pm on a Monday night contemplating my situation.  How is it, I ask, that I have only now snuck out of a bedroom populated by four dogs and one very tolerant man?  That answer is yet to strike me. 

How is it that from one, albeit unhealthy specimen, I am now surrounded by a myriad of neurosis that would make your most colourfully populated psych ward seem tame? 

This evening, although it is very much my fault, another monkey joined The Banana Republic.  The Banana Republic has to be referred to in capital letters, you see, it is not so much a name as a state of mind.  The Banana Republic is my pack. 

Said pack consists of Lilly, the unobtrusive, yet riddled with health issues alpha.  She is the one that stops this entire situation from dissolving into anarchy.  She rules the roost with stiff and formal legs and a fair yet firm resolve.  She averages around a million years old and is currently loosing her teeth.  Her dicky frame strikes undying respect into the hearts of Jacob and Julius.  Jacob (Riley) and Julius (Travis) are the second and third most senior in the ranks.  Somehow, the only male in the group has ended up at the bottom of the totem pole.  Ah, Travis.  Slightly stupid, who are we kidding, monumentally stupid.  He is alternately reffered to as Zoolander and Uncle Fester.  Travis is gorgeous to look at, but unfortunately, not much use to man nor beast.  Sweet thought.

Riley, the diabolical second in command.  Somehow, at 6 months old she had secured the position as Beta.  She has earned that right through pure Diva’dom.  She has been known to throw tantrums 5 miles wide.  I am currently convinced that if some aweful fate were to befall Lilly this household would very soon be under the tyrannical grips of a Riley led coup that would surely lead us all to our doom, probably involving copious amounts of tennis balls and yapping at Hardedaas. 

Which leads me to my fourth slip of control.  Sally.  Sally belongs to my mother.  She adopted her three days ago at my urging.  So, as is my responsibility, I have taken her.  She is a total and utter mess.  She has neurosis Freud would battle to decipher.  Someone, somewhere, if there is a fair higher power, is going to die of slow and painful bum cancer for what they did to her.  She is a one year old Border Collie who has clearly never known a kind hand in her life.  So begins the musing of a mad woman.  This is my blog to decide where exactly my mind booked a one way ticket to??  I shudder to think what will happen if Riley gets over her Diva tantrum about a bitch of similar age muscling in on her territory and actually turns her to the dark side!  Will Sally comply and listen to her plans of revolt and mutiny?  Or will she side with the benign and sweet Travis?  What of Lilly’s role in this madness?  Will she hold onto her position of supreme power or dodder deeper into the senility that is enveloping her increasingly feeble mind!

Stay tuned folks, this is sure to be a bumpy ride.

Again, why have I done this to myself????  

With a grin like this, one can only imagine the carnage!