Dog Academy [as told by Blanche]

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I’m sure you’ve heard the expression “dog tired” before. That’s what I am. Freaking exhausted. Today was my first day at Nazi work camp. Ha ha! I meant Dog Academy! That’s called a Freudian slip. Except I did that one on purpose.

I loved going to PetSmart Day Care until I caught the dog flu. Yeah, seriously. It’s not just for swine and birds anymore. Mom got really pissed off and kept me home for a few weeks while I dripped snot and coughed all over the place. Everything was going fine with this new arrangement until I ate one too many plastic bolt covers from mom’s office chair while she was sitting in it. She called it “the last straw,” but I know it was a bolt cover because I compared it with the other ones I’d been pooping out throughout the week.

First, mom brought in a personal trainer, so I put on my super-cute face and did what the lady said. I got lots of Mozzarella sticks out of the deal, but I sort of forgot what she said as soon as she left. I got pretty big pretty fast, so mom said she was “out of options.” Or at least I think that’s what she said. I couldn’t hear her clearly because I was concentrating on clamping my entire jaw tightly around the neck of her boyfriend’s Golden Retriever. Those dogs are FUZZY! Like a real live Muppet!

So this morning she dropped me off at a new school called Waggin’ Tails Junction. Awesome word play on “Wagon Trails,” although I found the decor didn’t fully support the Western theme. They need to work on their messaging. I actually had to go through a behavioral evaluation. At PetSmart I just raced in the room and skidded across the concrete like a Honda hatchback in a drifting competition. Not at Waggin’ Tails.

I spent the day with a woman who educated me on “pack behavior.” She made me drag my leash around after me, like she was trying to slow my roll. I went to hug a Rottweiler (it was NOT A LUNGE, it was a HUG), and she stepped on my leash mid-leap. That was an EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE MOMENT. At the end of the day, she had the balls to call me a “wild child” on my report card. When mom came to pick me up, she acted all charmed and told the trainer lady I was “precocious”, but she was giving me stink eye the whole time.

When we got in the car, mom looked over my report card while I pretended to be sound asleep. She read it out loud to me anyway. According to my final evaluation, I was a “little devil and wild” and I “need to focus and work on my petiquette.” WHAT? Trainer lady also ratted me out on the eval and said I was “too distracted” to remember my own name. Yeah, well, maybe I just didn’t want to come see her when she said it. Ever think about that?

Despite the negative feedback, it turns out I passed my entrance exams! At first I thought this was an awesome turn of events, until I realized it means I have to go back there and actually pay attention and learn something. Mom even signed me up for police dog sniffer training and obedience class. Obedience. We’ll see about that.

New students are on 90-day probation, so I can still get kicked out. I am, after all, a public school pit bull at a private school. Kind of like a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s court. Except for the time travel part. Oh, and also I’m not a magician. I’m just a dog. Okay, a dawg. A dogg.

Paws, out!

 

 

 

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