Last night my dog, Queen Bee, tore a nail off. She was off in the corner licking her paw incessantly, a sure sign of something bad...
So I got the doggy nail clippers, called her over, she raised her paw up and let me snip that very painful piece of nail, along with some necessary flesh, right off. Without a whimper or a snarl or a fight. And then she hobbled over to the treat cabinet and, of course, I gave her a treat. Then she licked me and said thanks and cuddled up on the floor next to my feet. Just like a well-behaved Dog.
And then it dawned on me - if this were Stinky's nail, I'd have had to call out the National Guard, find a Jack Russell sized straight jacket, frenzy-proof the room, and still pay the vet $86 to do it. Plus sedation costs.
And I thought about the fact that I open the door in this freezing weather and let Queen Bee out, she does her stuff and comes back. But I have to don a coat and a leash and gear fit for Alaska hiking and take Stinky out on a leash, cajol her to do her business, praise her and stand on my head and maybe, if I'm lucky, she finishes before my nose freezes off.
I trained Queen Bee. I ruled with an iron fist and a hard newspaper. I scolded, trained, went through barrels of treats, read books, demanded excellence. That's how I raised my kids - well except for the rolled up newspaper I admit I used a wooden spoon on butts among other props... They're still evolving but so far they are really good teenagers - good students, good Christians, good children. yeah someone said raising a kid is like raising a dog, and that might really draw some bad-ass comments, but on some level it is true. And, well, the kids and dog raised with strict discipline? All's well so far... I said well not perfect, no I haven't forgotten the chocolate brigade...
But Stinky the Granddog? I spoil Stinky. Stinky is my daughter's dog. I let her jump on my lap on the couch uninvited. I let her run all over my head and bite my nose when I'm laying in bed and then laugh like a crazed crack addict. I cuddle her when she's been bad and mommy yells at her and tell her that her mommy is just being nasty. I feed her treats even when she's done nothing to deserve them [can you say "fat jack russell"?]. I buy her 10 times the toys she could ever need or want, yet she insists on taking Queen Bee's few possessions. Yes, I have even bought her clothes. Needless to say, she is the Devil's Own Dog-Child. Gee I wonder why. And then It dawned on me what if I am a permissive, spineless Grandmother [someday in vast vast future] and my grandchildren turn out like my Granddog??
15 comments:
I always think that being a strict parent (to doggies or kids) is a young woman's game. I don't know about you, but I'm tired these days!
After reading this post, I'm suspecting QB is sharpening her nails and one day may just take a chunk out little spoiled Stinky JR.
Hmm. Isn't that supposed to be how it is? Spare the rod spoil the child...but..when it comes to the grandchildren....the only part that applies is spoil the child???
True story - the Cadet was around 5, and we were visiting his Grandma and Grandpa Faison. It was about 8 in the morning, and the Cadet wanted two fun-size snickers from the candy bowl next to his Grandma's chair. I said no - NOT at 8:00 a.m. I turn my back for a second...just one freaking second, and when I turn back, the cadet has already wolfed down one snickers and is well into his second. I look at my Mom and said "WHEN did snickers become breakfast food??"
You know my Mom - her response was a classic - In a brook no argument with me daughter tone she shot back - "When I became a grandmother."
Mom's may rock, but Grandma's RULE!
How funny. I agree...it is much easier to be a hard ass when you have more energy....although I am still trying. (Did you read my post about my parenting skills this week)
BTW: queen bee sounds like our Cocoa and Stinky sounds like the rescue dog we have who had NO training. Really, you CAN'T train an old dog new tricks...we have proof.
A dog has a better chance of being retrained than a recalcitrant grandchild. It's not too late to show stinky who the Alpha dog is....I think.
Maybe Stinky will grow up some more and be just as sweet and good as Queen Bee. Maybe.
Dog troubles were in the air last night, see my next post!
My dad used to tell us raising kids and dogs was the same...maybe there's something to that.
Anyway, thanks for stopping by my blog and signing on as a regular. I appreciate it!
Oh you're going to be one big sucker of a grandma!
I think you will definitely be the spoiling kind of grandma! lol
Perhaps Queen Bee's example will rub off on Stinky....I said PERHAPS! LOL!
Several years ago,my daughters (9 & 11) started calling my father by his first name. He thinks it's cute. He didn't think it was cute when did the same when I was 3, which is why my mother called him "Dad" until I was 13.
They've never called my mom by her first name, maybe b/c hers is 3 syllables while dad's is only 1. If they don't call him "Rick", which I am seriously trying to train them out of, they call him "Grand-dude".
The minute they start calling me "Aim", I will hunt down my Beatin Spoon. I've never beaten either with it, but any time I've ever held that wooden spoon with metal handle aloft in a threatening manner, they straighten right up.
Ame (like Amy, but with an e) in TN
I curse the scary teenager daily.. Saying things like "you just wait until you have kids, I hope they are just like you".. Every time I say it, a piece of me laughs....
Too funny! You'll be just like every other grandma I know ;-) And, just for the record, I also had a wooden spoon!! Stud Muffin still loves to tell people how I broke it on his rearend one day...(don't worry, he was laughing the whole time, and completely lost it when the spoon broke!)
I think there's something wonderful about kids having grandparents who spoil them (a bit). It's a legacy!
Also...I loved "frenzy-proof the room." That's exactly the perfect term for my daughter's bedroom.
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