and we got a dog.
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.