Helping the cable guy install internet.

Daisy is a barker. Fine in our old neighborhood, not so cool in the close quarters of this Los Angeles sprawl. Now that I’ve moved into a building with 19 other apartments on two floors, it’s become the problem of the day. Talk about shaking up that status quo.

We’ve lived here for almost a week and I’ve left her and Lollipop alone only once, for an hour or so, long enough to run with M., the resident manager, to pick up a chair and a bookcase. We could hear her howls halfway around the block ~ she is a Beagle, after all.

M. took an ass-chewing from Jazzman next door, and I took to realizing that I inadvertently created this mess by always allowing her to do what she does naturally when I’m not at home to hear it. Consequently, when I go out anywhere I’ve been taking them with me. They’ve been to Trader Joe’s, the 99cent store, and PetCo. They’ve ridden across town on the freeway in pouring rain to the thrift store. They’ve been to Runyon Canyon and on the plus side, they’ve begun to hike Runyon Canyon. I tend to underestimate my dogs and I didn’t think they could do either the hills or the city atmosphere.

I’ve always treated my dogs like cute, slightly pitiful little people. They are spoiled and loved and indulged. They greet me at the door like I’ve been gone for weeks, jumping and barking and running back and forth like they’re on crack. They tell me when they want to go outside. They sleep where they want on the furniture and I’m normally relegated to a corner of my bed. They are rescues and they’ve been through hell so it’s natural I’d want to make their life easier, comfort them, and give them the world. Pearl was quiet and it seemed to work fine. The same with Lollipop. Unfortunately, with Daisy I’ve created a brat. An insecure, obsessed, whiney pain in the ass brat. And unless I plan to live my live within the confines of those 8 foot walls, somebody’s gotta change.

According to Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer, that somebody’s gotta be me. Dogs need structure and discipline and order and lots and lots of exercise to feel secure and well-balanced, but until now all Daisy and Lolli have had is the lovin’ and touchin’ and squeezin’. Cesar compares raising a healthy dog with our human interactions and relationships; if you’ve ever tried to love, coddle and protect someone through their issues you know firsthand that they don’t grow and they don’t change. Dogs, like people, innately don’t want to be somebody’s victim. They react best when they have your strength to emulate and when they’re made to wear their big-dog panties.

In the midst of starting over with an empty house, dwindling funds, waiting on the internet so I can get back to work and well, the overall stress of moving across country, not to mention the heavy rains LA is experiencing right now, this bump in the road has the potential to throw me into a ditch. Hiding indoors with my dog just isn’t feasible and it isn’t desirable either. Though I normally go without, right now, I’ve got to wear my panties front and center too, because it’s my energy and state of mind that matter most and ultimately affect Daisy.

The sonic collar she’s currently wearing around her neck has helped squelch the barking a bit, but I have to let her know that staying home without me is okay. Likewise I have to acknowledge that living life in a big, basically new, city is ok too, and put aside any trepidations I have both about leaving her home and venturing out. Daisy barks less with the collar on, but she still whines and scratches at the door, and when she does bark it’s a muffled howl followed by an ear-piercing screech: Bark BEEP! Bark BEEP! I’m just not sure that’s an improvement in the ears of my neighbors.

That’s a shame because Daisy is a great little dog. She’s sweet and she’s smart and she’s lovable. She carries her stuffed “babies” around with her and flops her fat body over for belly rubs and plays dead and rolls over . . . after several attempts. She’s also a major social butterfly ~ and right now that’s our downfall. While I don’t care much for Jazzman’s attitude or his way of handling the situation, the reality is that my neighbors in the building deserve the quiet, Daisy deserves to feel safe and secure, and I deserve a relaxed and happy home. Daisy’s gotta learn to be alone because as much as I love this new place, there’s a whole big ol’ world out there, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life here with only my dogs and the internet for company. Now where’d I put those Big Girl Panties?