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Still not dead.
Spike's been driving me (and my neighbours) batshit with his cannon-like barking out of the window every time a cat, squirrel, fox or other dog walks past in his field of vision. I finally had a "What Would Blaidd Do" moment and hit on what should have been the blindingly obvious sensible way to break him of the habit. Instead of concentrating on trying to quell him when he barks, reward the hell out of him every time he glances out the window without making a noise. We've now had two days and only one bark. ONE, as opposed to eight or ten twenty-one gun salutes. Fucking awesome.
In other less awesome news, I got up when that one bark happened because if whatever he's barking at is exciting enough he sometimes needs to picked up and carried away from the window before he'll shut up. Only Squish had left an enormous, rock-hard, jagged-edged old marrowbone right in my path and I came down on it hard. My right foot may never be the same again; it's all swollen and purple and I'm scared I might have broken something in it. This isn't the first time this has happened but I don't remember it hurting to put shoes on before.
ah well. if it isn't better in a day or so I'll go get someone to x-ray it. won't that be a jolly jape? Even jollier than trying to deal with an evil collie who can't understand why he's only getting short walks. It's times like this I feel my only regret about being single.
...I'm still reading you all. It's just... you get into a habit of non-communication and it sort of feeds on itself. The longer you go without commenting or posting the harder it gets to do it; the less you feel as though you have anything worth saying. The jury's still out on the last part but there's people I care about that I never meant to not be talking to. That's you, that is.
Spike's been driving me (and my neighbours) batshit with his cannon-like barking out of the window every time a cat, squirrel, fox or other dog walks past in his field of vision. I finally had a "What Would Blaidd Do" moment and hit on what should have been the blindingly obvious sensible way to break him of the habit. Instead of concentrating on trying to quell him when he barks, reward the hell out of him every time he glances out the window without making a noise. We've now had two days and only one bark. ONE, as opposed to eight or ten twenty-one gun salutes. Fucking awesome.
In other less awesome news, I got up when that one bark happened because if whatever he's barking at is exciting enough he sometimes needs to picked up and carried away from the window before he'll shut up. Only Squish had left an enormous, rock-hard, jagged-edged old marrowbone right in my path and I came down on it hard. My right foot may never be the same again; it's all swollen and purple and I'm scared I might have broken something in it. This isn't the first time this has happened but I don't remember it hurting to put shoes on before.
ah well. if it isn't better in a day or so I'll go get someone to x-ray it. won't that be a jolly jape? Even jollier than trying to deal with an evil collie who can't understand why he's only getting short walks. It's times like this I feel my only regret about being single.
...I'm still reading you all. It's just... you get into a habit of non-communication and it sort of feeds on itself. The longer you go without commenting or posting the harder it gets to do it; the less you feel as though you have anything worth saying. The jury's still out on the last part but there's people I care about that I never meant to not be talking to. That's you, that is.
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