Why Dogs Don't Rule The World

We have a family pet-- although family member seems a more appropriate term. It's ridiculous, really. Even my parents and sisters coochie-coo with her when their paths cross (which is often-- the dog goes just about everywhere with us). The life she leads is probably more suited to that of a small, spoiled lap dog (I'm thinking of a toy poodle right now) than a beefy boxer. And yet...it fits. And even though I'm accustomed to thinking of the dog as just another person in the family, I get reminded, often, that she is actually an inferior idiot. Brains like a pea. Not exaggerating.

Today, for instance, I spent much of the morning being reminded of what a fool this creature is. She was lying in front of the fire (her favorite spot these days) basking in the heat. Let me just say that when this dog lies in front of the fire she is rather an immovable object. She even attempts to bark and eat from her sprawled position. No joke. She will hear a noise outside, and instead of getting up to investigate she simply perks her ears up a bit (without lifting her head) and performs a few ceremonial growls and a woof or two. That's it. Wonderful guard dog, this one. And if one of the kiddos offers her a treat she repeats pretty much the same process-- just substitute "chews" and "swallow" for "growls" and "woof". We like to chant one of hubby's favorite high school cheers in her honor, "L-A-Z-Y you ain't got no alibi!". Yes, folks, this is the object of our adoration.

Sorry, derailed.... So as this fine specimen was enjoying her beauty rest, along came a giant carpenter ant. Man, I hate those buggers! They are mean as spit. So this thing starts heading directly for the dog. I just sat in curious silence, knowing that the dog cannot be bothered with much when the fire is on. Sure enough, she spots the ant but does nothing more than perk up her ears and sniff a little. As the ant gets closer and dares to wriggle on poochie's neck she decides to shake her head sharply in disapproval. The ant is not dissuaded. This defiance irks the dog a bit, as she is used to smaller creatures bowing to her every whim. And this, apparently, is enough to get up for. But she not only gets up, she decides to exert her dominance on this insubordinate ant by eating it. The ant gets the last laugh, however, by attaching itself to her tongue with an iron grip. The dog is not pleased with this turn of events. Not pleased at all.

LM sees that there is an ant on the dog's tongue and says so. I look at the dog and her eyes tell me all I need to know (I can't repeat what she said, however, as her language can tend to be a tad uncouth). "Are you sorry you ate that ant?" I ask her. I'm not positive but I'm pretty sure I saw her nod.

So now comes the business of getting the ant off the dog's tongue. Let me assure you this is not an easy task, as we've had to remove one from LM's lip before (another story entirely). I start by giving her an extra scoop of dog food, hoping it will sort of scrape the ant off. It helped...but only half the ant came off. The half that had the death grip on doggie's tongue was still very much present and accounted for. I called my mom for reinforcements. She suggested peanut butter, since dogs have to lick and lick and lick to get that stuff off. She figured all that licking might dislodge the ant. Ah, yes-- peanut butter! That's some fun we haven't had in a while! So I give the dog a spoon of peanut butter and with every flip of her tongue I can see the big black head of the ant still hanging on for all its worth. No luck. I gave the dejected dog some water before deciding that another spoonful of peanut butter would not only be a hoot, but may actually help as well. I offer the second spoonful and she just stares at it as if saying, "I just can't! It's too much to ask of me!". Her tongue is exhausted-- and probably sore. But with a little prodding she accepts the peanut butter.

Somewhere in that second spoonful the ant is dislodged and we all breathe in a sigh of relief-- not least of whom the dog. I wonder if she learned a lesson? Nah! At least I know I did: next time just kill the stupid ant at first sight. (And give the dog peanut butter more often-- just for the heck of it.)