To say my dog, Sophie, is spoiled would be a drastic understatement. Spoiled rotten – a term often directed toward me when it came to my grandmother’s spending habits – might even be a bit on the mellow side. More or less, my little 7 1/2 month old puppy has a really good life.
Since adopting her for $200 in March, I have spent an approximate $500 on her aside from that original fee to make her mine. My mother, who lives in Pennsylvania, also sent a paw-shaped pillow to North Carolina for Sophie just over a month ago, which shows how far the spoiling has reached. Clearly my dog is no pet of Paris Hilton or Leona Helmsley — Who seriously leaves $8 billion to their dog? I mean, really… — but for an average pet owner, I’ve spent a good amount of cash on my Sophie-girl in the last 4 months.
However, upon getting my dog, there was one thing, one tiny little thing, that I never wanted to spoil her with: human food. Growing up in Pennsylvania, I had two dogs who were both fed so often from the table that they practically begged for scraps during a meal. It was annoying, to say the least, and it was not a habit I wanted my dog to acquire.
And then I went away for a weekend and left Sophie in the possession of two people who unfortunately fed her cheese, ice cubes, crackers, etc. Since then, she has become worse than a vagabond. If I’m sitting on the couch, she’s on the back cushions, looming over my shoulder, waiting impatiently for even the slightest morsel of food. And if I’m at the kitchen table, she’s just entirely unsure of what to do with herself, scampering back and forth behind my seat as I eat each bite.
Better yet, the nights I make dinner and decide to watch tv while eating, I have to walk through the kitchen, the middle room and to the couch in the living room. My dog, who must have rabbit in her because she can jump almost as high as I stand – although that’s a meager 5’1″ – likes to leap into the air as I walk with food in my hands, oftentimes nearly knocking over my bowl of pasta or chicken and rice.
I love her, I really do, but moments like those, my frustration builds to a fairly high degree and I yell at her to leave me alone, which generally means giving me about two feet of space as opposed to the 1 inch, or less, I typically receive as I consume my food.
My mother says that breaking a dog of a habit such as this one is extremely difficult, and I am learning, the hard way, the truth of those words. My dog may be a spoiled brat, receiving a new toy every time I step into Petco or Wal-Mart, but mark my words, I will somehow teach her that human food is not for her. She can stick to her beef and lamb pellets, as disgusting as they may be.
1 Comment so far
Leave a comment