Of Dogs and Grief

First off, I’m so excited to read that some of you have asshole dogs.  I mean, I wouldn’t wish an asshole dog upon anyone, but if you have one, well, we can all sleep well at night knowing that our asshole dogs are most certainly not a reflection on their owners or caretakers.  I guess some of them just get the asshole gene!  Come to think of it, I know some asshole people, too…

Anyway!  Step one in the Dog Training Class is having Duncan associate a clicker noise with a treat.  Unlike obedience training, this asshole doesn’t have to do anything to get the treat.  Just hear the clicker, I guess.  So for the last week, I’ve been LITERALLY sticking my fingers in… uh, processed meats, freeze-dried chicken liver, and most recently, wet cat food, in an effort to keep his asshole attention when I click the clicker.  OF COURSE the wet cat food is his favorite.  I should have just started with that shit…

I tried little tiny treats, but a) he’s not interested after, like, three of them, and b) he tries to eat my damn fingers (and he has sharp teeth).  So I did this thing where I caked something delicious into a Kong opening, but then he all assholed out and kept trying to take it.  Then I caked something on the edge of a teaspoon (SHARP TEETH), but then he kept trapping the spoon part in his sharp mouth.  The winning method (ta da!) was using the handle end of the teaspoon and dipping it in cat food for him to lick off.  Click > lick.  Click > lick.

This is only week one, so I assume I’m laying some kind of positive Pavlov reinforcement.  Hopefully.

So that was your dog training update this week.  I go to class tomorrow night with him, where he gets to be in the same building (but separate rooms, THANK GOD) from three other asshole dogs.

In other TOTALLY UNRELATED news, I made a Facebook group (Invite only?  Closed?) for parents of small children (like, under 12 or so) who have lost one/both of their parents.  I think we’re up to 13 members?  I’m hopeful that we’ll develop a kind of small, nurturing, supportive community where people can have discussions, ask for advice, or just openly grieve.

I know that sometimes I feel like the Grief Window is closed.  And that if I am seen grieving that I am assumed to be weak, or “not over it” (never will be), or wallowing in my sorrow, or doing whatever in a way that is hampering my ability to “move on” and “remember the good times.”  Or some shit.  When sometimes, you just wanna fucking grieve.

If you’re interested in joining (the only qualifier being that you have a small child, and you yourself have lost a parent), send me your email address to butchandpregnant@gmail.com and I will email you an invitation.