Me again, telling a story about my dog

Gabe was the most difficult dog to house-break I’ve ever had, perhaps because he’s male.  Most of the house dogs I’ve had before were females, so it really isn’t fair to blame Gabe’s slow journey to “good dog” on his sex.  But it’s all I’ve got for an excuse.

With that said, he’s done great for months.  About a month ago I finally got brave enough to leave his kennel door open all night, and there have been no incidents.  Until last night.

In the evenings, I carry his warm, snuggly bed to the bedroom and allowed him to choose where he sleeps... either in the cage/kennel, or in his soft bed.  He is liable to start out in the kennel, then switch to the soft bed; both beds are side by side.  A dog isn’t allowed to have many choices in life, but I let him have this one.  

This morning I got up and made coffee before Gabe got up, then took him out.  Because it’s been raining all week, I’m back to leashing him when we go outside to prevent his walking through the mud.  I’ve had house dogs that absolutely refused to do their business in rain-soaked ground and would go for an incredible length of time before they’d perform.  Gabe takes a little longer when it’s wet outside, but he gets the job done eventually.

When we came back inside this morning, he went to the couch and walked behind it, which isn’t normal for him, but I thought maybe he was looking for crumbs or something.  When I called him out he got beside me in the recliner like always and lay down.  At 4:30 I fed him as usual.  When he was done he went behind the couch again for about the fourth time.  I wondered if maybe there was a dead mouse back there, and finally got up to look.

Dog poop!  I began telling Gabe he was a bad dog, and lectured him the whole time I was picking up, and then flushing, his “mistake”.  He didn’t look very sorry.  Since he’d just had breakfast, I took him outside again, where he made a huge deposit.  When we came back in, I noticed he did not go behind the couch, nor had he done so at any time, after I picked up his poop.

Now, Cliff will tell me I’m making excuses for Gabe, but here’s my theory:  it is definitely difficult for him to potty outside when it’s wet and rainy.  And I tend to hurry him with his business when I’m getting rained on, when I should give him more time, not less.  He did not poop on his last walk of the day, which he usually does.  Therefore, I accept the blame.  He probably did the unspeakable after I’d gone to sleep last night.

At this point, Cliff will say I’m giving a dog far too much credit for brains, but I think Gabe was trying to bring that poop to my attention so I would get rid of it, because he knows that’s what I do.  He kept returning to the scene of the crime so I could take care of his mess.  Once I did that, he had no more interest in going behind the couch.

That’s my theory, and I’m sticking to it.  Dog-lovers, UNITE!

Peace.