Problem #2: Dogs who hang with the bad crowd,have loose morals, and don’t potty train their children.
Rebekkah’s reason for living, besides me obviously, is Ella, her dog. She is convinced Ella was hand-crafted by God specifically for her, and hand-delivered by angels right to her doorstep. I have a different theory….
Seriously though, hands down, we are definitely dog lovers in this house, and we all adore Ella, even if she is a stubborn pain in the ass on a daily basis.
Our problem is, Ella can run like the wind, and she jumps higher and more gracefully than a gazelle could. At first, the problem seemed to be one of a faulty fence. Simon patched up the several questionable places we suspected she was slipping through when we first moved in. But the damage had already been done.
Ella’s reputation had spread long and far that first week we were here (she had gone into heat) also, (we’ve never had a female dog before and had no clue her slut-like behavior was normal and not distressingly vulgar and ill-mannered). Her unsurprising pregnancy following her “Dogs Gone Wild” encounters with every dog with balls on this block, curbed her ventures outside of the yard for a few months.
After the puppies were born, weaned, and most of them adopted out, Ella got her girlish figure back, and went right back to jumping over the fence in our yard, plus added a few other backyards to her neighborhood route.
Every single day, that damn dog jumps the fence and disappears into the ocean of stray animals that populate our area.
We have tried everything to lure her within grabbing distance, including beef jerky and pizza bait. I can see her mocking us, always a perfectly 4 yards away from us at all times.
And because we tried to make her jealous by feeding the mangy, half-starved herd of dogs, they all think they live here now. I have the best security system a person can have in the ghetto — a group of wild dogs on the porch, defending the pizza and beef jerky within.
To add fuel to fire, we have two of Ella’s babies – Posha and Sparrow. They have inherited their mother’s grace, ability to run, and her taste for adventure and socialization. So, daily, I am chasing down a bunch of dogs that think we are playing a fun game. They instinctively know the Divide & Conquer defense, splitting off in different directions, including in front of on-coming vehicles or into yards guarded by large, jealous dogs who have been watching them flout their freedom right in their faces for a month now.
I admit it freely. Ella and her spawn are kicking my butt.
Bird – 0
Ella & Spawn – 32
What they seem to not have inherited is Ella’s grasp on where the appropriate place to urinate is. Sparrow seems to have a vague idea that I’m trying to communicate something with her, but Posha, though the sweetest little thing ever, is clueless, and in my opinion, a bit passive aggressive and spiteful.
Yesterday, after catching her looking for a good spot to relieve herself, I shoo-ed them outside, happy to have caught them before they wrecked our freshly steamed carpet. After ten minutes, I let them back in. Posha instantly jumped on my bed and peed on it. That.Little.Bitch.
Bird – 0
Posha – 1
In an effort to keep Ella contained, we set up this long lead for her. She hates it, and you have to literally drag her outside when she is tied up. Last night, I heard a bit of disturbance in the backyard. The puppies were inside, but Ella was still on the line.
I opened the door just in time to see Ella getting it on with one of the strays that literally does have mange and who I feed in the front yard out of sympathy and compassion, but rigidly discipline from going anywhere near our dogs in the back.
They both looked smugged and satisfied. All that was missing was Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach” and Ella smoking a cigarette. We still have two puppies from the first batch!!
Ella is such a hussy. At least this time, there won’t be any chance of weanie dogs, pathetically small comfort that is.
Bird – 0
Ella & Company – 1