Greetings from down at your feet!
First, let me say, thanks to Master for letting me write this guest blog post. Very big of him.
And that monkey is very big. That’s his main quality. I’m like 25 pounds. My gorilla a hundred and seventy. The ape is huge. I guess that’s why he’s in charge. That and the thumb thing. What is up with that?
Anyway, I got distracted. What I wanted to talk about was this “training” thing.
Here’s my list of stuff you should know about training me and my canine brothers and sisters:
- Don’t confuse my desire for treats with actually giving a shit about sitting or shaking hands.
- You didn’t house train me. I naturally don’t want to shit in the house. Who does?
- Look, if you throw the ball, I’ll go get it. But why do you just throw it again? I mean, WTF?
- You think you let ME sleep in the bed? You are lucky I let YOU sleep in the bed! A couple of nights on a throw rub by the door would do you wonders.
- Look, I like to eat poop. Stop making a big deal out of it.
- I bark at other dogs walking by the house. Of course I do. I’m a dog, you dumb shit.
- Who’s training whom? I sit and you give me a treat. Take that, Pavlov.
- I like you, I really do. But let’s be clear: any chimp with peanut butter would do, ok?
- I have an idea: why don’t you teach me how to work the remote? Seriously. Maybe then we can watch something besides reruns of Downton Abby and Hogan’s Heroes.
- Training is such an ape-centric way of thinking. Fuck the leash and just let me take care of business, and we’ll all get along just fine
Thanks, and keep the kibbles coming, ya hear?—