I'm an adorable dog who is stuck living with a 32-year old single woman who has made it her life's goal to humiliate me. Unfortunately, she's quite good at it.
So, last week, I detailed my problems with Sarah teaching me to act like a monkey. Unfortunately, Sarah got me on that one.
But I have discovered a way to deal with this - I can just ignore Sarah!
I realized that Sarah knows that I can catch a frisbee just fine. So, when Sarah wants me to catch, I can just ignore her, like I did in the video! When other people are around, I can impress them with my mad frisbee catching skills. It's a fabulous plan - piss Sarah off by not catching, yet show off for other people, so that they can see how smart I am. It's a perfect plan!
Sarah operates under the misguided notion that I am a creature put on this planet solely for her amusement. Of course, only she thinks of it as "amusement" - I tend to categorize what she considers amusing as humiliation, degradation, great indignities, or some combination of the three.
Take one of her winter projects, which was to teach me to catch a Frisbee. Now, on the one hand, I really don't want to learn to catch a Frisbee. I mean, it's just humiliating on so many levels. It's like she wants me to be her trained monkey, and do whatever she wants me to, whenever she wants me to. That? Not cool. Not cool at all.
On the other hand, if I don't do the trick, it suggests to Sarah that I'm stupid, and unable to learn the absolutely inane things that she wants me to do. The last thing I want is for Sarah to think is that I'm stupid, because, obviously, I'm not (unlike Sarah, who does so many stupid things on a daily basis that she could have a blog devoted entirely to the subject: "Stupid Things Sarah Did Today." A stupid name for a stupid person).
It's quite the conundrum, actually. Do Something Degrading vs. Looking Smart. Ultimately, I chose looking smart. I mean, catching a Frisbee is SOOO easy. It took me, like, no time to become pretty decent at it.
What I didn't count on was that Sarah would put evidence of my humiliation on the internet, for the whole world to see:
Of course Sarah would humiliate me by putting this on the internet. I should have known better.
But I do have one trump card that's not in the video. Even though I look all nice and obedient, I refused to give Sarah the Frisbee back. So, while I do catch the Frisbee all nice, I proceeded to run around the yard and chew on it, preventing Sarah from throwing it again and humiliating me further.
I'm calling this one even. But next time, I'm figuring out a way to get the upper hand.
Now, I may have had some problems with puppy training in the past, but I have to say, Sarah (the asshole) may have been on to something with it. Sure, the whole sitting and staying on command thing is degrading and crap, but getting to hang out with other dogs for an hour is pretty fucking cool.
However, last night, we had puppy training graduation. There was, of course, some humiliation to be had at puppy training:
Seriously? A fucking graduation cap? I think my look in that picture says it all.
Oh, and, of course, because I actually enjoy puppy training, Sarah has decided that I will not start intermediate level training for like a month or two. She claims it's because none of the scheduled classes work for her, but (a) I'm pretty sure she's lying to piss me off, and (b) even if she is telling the truth (unlikely), why the fuck doesn't she have her priorities straight? I should be number one. Screw her schedule, I need my weekly session of fun!
Also, Sarah is really fucking proud of me for passing puppy training:
Seriously, asshole, did you think I was going to fail the class? First, no one fails, so it wasn't even a possibility. Second, how fucking stupid do you think I am? We only learned, like, six commands, it wasn't like there was some brain surgery or something involved here. I would have been fucking pissed off at myself had I failed.
So, a bitch should be able to admit when she's wrong (that's attractive to men, right? Not that it will do my spayed ass any good, but whatever). Puppy training class is AWESOME!
Today, we spent like half of the class just playing! I got to take out my aggression on other puppies, who don't give a crap when I bite them, unlike Sarah (the asshole), who screams ouch at me the second my teeth touch her skin. I know it doesn't hurt that much, but you wouldn't fucking know it from the sound that comes out of her mouth! You'd think someone up and died, the sound that she makes.
And, because I'm like twice the size of the other dogs, I totally kick their asses when we play! It's great! I totally showed that schnauzer what's what. And what's what is moi.
OK, sure, there was some demeaning sitting and walking like a prissy girl on the leash, but whatever. It was still pretty fucking awesome, because that shit only took like ten minutes.
But here's the thing - I only get to go to puppy training once a week. I could totally do this every night, but there's no way Sarah's cheap ass pays for that. So, I'm stuck doing stupid training with Sarah six nights a week, which sucks. I should have known she wouldn't have done anything cool.
So, Sarah seems to have decided that my charms could use some refining. Evidently, her idea of charm and refinement requires me to demean myself by doing things like sitting on command. How this makes me more charming I have no fucking clue. If you ask me (which Sarah obviously didn't), it makes me someone's bitch, and not just in the female dog sense.
However, as you can see from this picture, Sarah seems to think that this is all quite fun and cute, and made me sit there while she took my picture. Asshole.
The worst part about puppy training class is that there are a bunch of other asshole dogs there. Sarah seriously couldn't spring for the private lessons? She's a fucking lawyer, and I know that lawyers make serious bank. The least she could do if she is going to demean me through these lessons is to keep them private, but Nooooo. Instead of getting me private lessons, she had to have two new pairs of shoes last week, as if someone who has 63 other pairs of shoes needs two new pairs. Bitch, please. Shoes aren't snagging you any mans. We all know you aren't going to find a mans until you start lying about what you do for a living. No mans wants to date a lawyer, unless he's a masochist or a retard. Oh, and while we're on the subject, perhaps you should start lying about your age. No mans wants to date a 30 year old when there are nubile young 20-somethings out there. You can probably get away with 28 still, 27 if you start dying your hair. Oh, don't pretend like you haven't seen those gray hairs sneaking in, because I certainly have.
Oh, and do you know the worst part of this whole fucking thing? I have to go back again next week. Sarah is such an asshole.
