The Nicky Situation.
Mood:  mischievious
Topic: Rants
I have a problematic relationship with my dog.

You may recall that Nicky joined our family a couple of months ago during a fit of insanity on my part, at a time when I was eight hundred months pregnant and the last thing on earth we needed was a new dog in the house -- much less an undisciplined rescue job. All male miniature schnauzers are born with a heaping tablespoonful of Crazy -- it's their birthright. Add to that a questionable family life and sketchy obedience and potty training, and you have quite a little hellion on your hands.

But I'm a fool for mini schnauzers, and I have to admit that Nicky has his endearing qualities. The potty training issues we have largely overcome with walks through the neighborhood so that Nicky will have lots of opportunity to scent mark -- because for Nicky, peeing and pooping aren't just bodily functions, they're political statements, urgent messages to the world. The neuter surgery has also helped this along. He's calmed a lot of his snappish tendencies and now looks on with happy bemusement as Sam and Matt rampage through the house -- he even puts up with a touch of good-natured abuse.

But his barking is a problem. I mentioned before that Nicky had been "debarked" before we met him -- and after a couple of months with him in my household, I can certainly see why they did it. Most dogs bark at things: people passing by, noises, sirens, other dogs. Nicky just barks. I have seen him stand and bark at a shelving unit for five solid minutes. He barks at chairs, specks of dust, and indeterminate points in midair. Furthermore, he does it tirelessly; while the "debark" thing means that the volume of his barking is turned way down, the barking itself is still audible and never stops. Therefore, apart from the usual ear-scratching and so on, most of my interactions with him consist of some form of shut UP, Nicky, punctuated by occasional obscene embellishments (Nicky, would you PLEASE shut the fuck UP) or speculations of an improbable nature (Nicky, let's see how you bark with MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS).

This can't be a healthy relationship. I also spend a lot of time preventing him from eating the children. He has a habit of licking Julia's feet, which makes me nervous because Julia always smells like milk, and you know, MILK Bones. So I push him away. And then he starts nosing around at Matt, and Matt says Nicky is trying to EAT me! and gets freaked out. So when I'm not yelling at Nicky to stop barking, I spend a lot of time peeling him off the kids.

Furthermore, he throws up. And he always does it right behind my chair while I'm nursing Julia, so here's how that goes: Nicky wolfs down a gigantic meal and then begins barfing it up all over the little rug. I know this because he starts making that noise like a washing machine, so I start yelling at him to stop throwing up. And then after he throws up, he starts EATING IT, and Ben comes in and starts coaching and encouraging him to eat it, because then Ben does not have so much to clean up, but the entire thing is just too repulsive for me to handle, so I'm howling at him to stop. And meanwhile Julia is nursing and the boys are yelling and I am howling and Nicky is barfing and probably also barking, and do you see where this is just completely freaking insane?

Hello. This is our house. Welcome to Crazy.

So, right now, Nicky is asleep at my feet and the baby is asleep in my lap. Things are peaceful. But the rest of the time? Crazy, and I feel bad that my entire relationship with my dog consists mostly of me yelling at him to stop barking, yelling at him to stop puking, and yelling at him not to eat the children. I feel like I should be spending more, I don't know, quality time with him. But then again, I hardly spend time with my husband. In my constantly changing landscape of priorities, Nicky is inevitably going to end up somewhere in the background.

I hope he's a happier dog than he was before he came to us. I guess that's about the best I can do. Maybe our chaotic household is the logical place for an insane barking dog. Besides, we've got to have someone to blame when we fart.