Blowing Off Steam

Look at Satan's Familiar! Isn't he precious?

Merrick. Squeeze harder. That choke hold has some real potential.

Yesterday, John bought and installed one of these:


Look at that dog on the cover! Obedient! Trained! Why, the Matron even detects a hint of joy. That snout is actually a smile!

You see, John is confident that Satan's Familiar can be retrained to understand that dogs go potty and poopy outside, not (today's list, so far!): on the stairs, in the hallway, by the dining room table.

When the Matron woke this morning to the revitalizing scent of doggy doo-doo at her feet, she reconsidered this solution offered by one of her readers:

This is wholly inappropriate and may offend.

Peter, do you have contact information?

Because Satan's Familiar will not use that door. He is afraid of its pretty compact flap. He cowers and runs now, from all doors, generally. He would like to be a permanently indoor on-lap dog.

Why, Satan's Familiar is just now planning his next bowel movement: hmmmm. Time to use that virgin plank near the second floor hall closet? Or if it's runny, should I deposit the love on some carpeted stairs? Or maybe work on the yellow pee pattern upstairs on the beige carpet?

He is overwhelmed with options.

Here are some of the Familiar's current bad habits:

• Pooping and peeing in the house? Check.
• Jumping up on the Matron's lap and sticking his snout on her plate during dinner? Check.
• Sleeping under covers, between Matron and the human beings she wouldn't mind snuggling against? Check.
• Able to open a child's backpack, remove lunch, open container and eat all contents? Check.
• Puking wrappers from the lunch in the hallway, on the stairs, in Merrick's bedroom? Check.
• Rolling in poop, licking self and then licking one of Matron's offspring? Check.
• Jumping onto kitchen counters and eating any morsel of food or string of children's lunches left there? Consistently? Day after day? Check.
• Yip, yip, bark, bark! Yip, yap, bark, bark! Yip, yap, bark, bark? Check.

The Matron's previous dogs had no bad habits. They required no firm hand or hired gun. Indeed, Jekyll is still with us, now deaf and blind and 15 years old this April. Happy Birthday, old man.

Because Jekyll is unable to see the new dog door, much less comprehend Change at his advanced age, the Matron must still assist this dog outside. So that new dog door? Pretty much just one big potential bee entry for now.

Does the reader know that the Matron is allergic to bee stings? In the adventuresome anaphylaxis way, because she doesn't believe in doing things halfway.

Here is the Matron's main source of transportation:

There are big bold yellow peace signs on both sides. She gets a lot of two-finger peace signs in returns, a lot of smiles. She cannot drive by a Volvo without receiving a honk or wave.

This love machine also has a single bumper sticker that reads: "What would Buddha do?"

And because the Matron is blowing off steam today (and thinking about how she steams, sometimes, generally), she understands the confusion she causes when she lays on the horn or throws up her hands in exasperation or drives by the offender with a searing, lethal look at Who Is That Idiot Driving That Car?

She knows that the next time one of her children particularly annoy her, are relentless in harassment or anger or outrage, she will step behind the offending back, stick her thumbs in her ears in order to wiggle those fingers and stick out her tongue: Nana nana boo boo!! Sometimes it helps to make awful faces or throw punches or shake your fist and stomp your feet. Quietly. Wiggling is good, too.

That way when they turn around you are calm, composed, present. Maternal.

And since the Matron is not much of a dog-killer (or even dog kicker, but do NOT tell Satan's Familiar; she is trying to keep him afraid) she supposes she will keep picking up poop or God forbid, train that creature.

Unless he wanders away?