and we got a dog.

Meet Maude.

The kids adore her.

But not as much as my husband does.

Maude is a Portuguese Water Dog.  She doesn’t shed, smell, and came completely kennel and house-trained by the breeder.  She is mild-mannered, playful, and mellow.  I’ve never been a dog person and find myself loving this one.

Derrick, being who he is, decided to take her training to the next level.  A few days ago he came home for lunch with a “clicker” that he presses every time Maude does something good.  For example, he’ll say “sit,” and when she sits, he presses the clicker.  Can I just tell you that this thing is loud?  It’s like a giant can of shaken-up soda popping open in my ear every time it clicks; I guess you might call it a hiss-click.  The theory goes that, unlike giving a dog a treat after she obeys, you can click the instant she obeys, and she’ll  know immediately that she’s done something right.  The clicker is administered (HISS-CRACK!) when Maude follows the command to sit, go down, or get in her kennel.  Derrick claims that this tool gives him–the Master– total control through positive reinforcement.  I think he’s just happy that someone in the house is finally obeying him.

As for me, all I know is that every time Derrick and the dog are in the same room I hear that clicker at least a dozen times.  I’m not afraid to tell you that it’s getting on my last freaking nerve.  I mentioned this to my dear hubby a few days ago and he listened to me patiently then leaned in for a kiss.  As our lips touched, I instantly heard HISS-CRACK!  He thought that was just hysterical.  So now he keeps the clicker hidden in his pocket and, just when I’ve forgotten it’s there, presses it as I do something “correctly.”  (Physical affection seems to warrant the most clicks. Go figure.)

I do not believe there is room enough on the internet to canvass the feminist repercussions of this.  But I do still like the dog.

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