Dogs EVERYWHERE!!!: Why I Have SEVEN Dogs! Part Four:
Conclusions
It’s Troy, Tori, ChippenWorf, and their long-lost sister, Lady DiDi’s 8th birthday today. Not coincidentally, it’s also the anniversary of the day Charlie vowed to never do that again.
Previously on Dogs EVERYWHERE!!!: Why I Have SEVEN Dogs!:
My roommate and, by association, I have seven Cavalier King Charles Spaniels living in our little house. // The first puppy we sold went to a very enthusiastic woman and her husband. // I’m not a monster. I’m an animal lover who loves all animals except snakes and ants because fuck them… // suicide // fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck // Trikki collapsed and started breathing heavily.
Yes, that is exciting. Get caught up:
Seven dogs are just way too many. When Charlie was an only dog, she got to go everywhere I went, and she was better behaved because she got individual time and training. Tori and Troy were raised together and the difference in their behavior and their mother’s is obvious. Dealing with seven dogs makes reinforcing training a difficult task. Even Charlie is a bad girl sometimes because she knows she can get away with shit.
Training is a lifetime project. Consistency is a huge part of training. Once a dog gets away with something, it will continue to push boundaries. Having multiple dogs makes it nigh impossible to be consistent. It’s too exhausting. I have a rule that the dogs have to sit and wait at the door to go outside. It’s meant to encourage the same behavior at the front door. With seven dogs all wanting to go outside at different times or the same dog wanting to go out for two minutes and come in for two minutes before demanding to go out for two minutes, *cough* Xero *cough*, I spent too much of my day letting dogs in and out and just open the door and let them run free. At 02:31, Reginald doesn’t care. She just wants them to go out, handle their business, and get back in, so she can sleep. Fortunately for me, they all sleep with Reginald in her room. Unfortunately for everybody, none of them sleep all night, and they enjoy some nightly shenanigans.
It costs more to feed the dogs than the humans, and they eat better. Reginald has them on a raw food diet, which we make every two to four weeks, depending on how much we make. The kitchen looks like a Dexter murder scene without the plastic wrap. Cleanup takes as much time as making the food. They have to wear snoods to keep their ears out of their food. Without the snoods, their ears would be full of raw meat. Gross.
Feeding time is a cacophony of demands. It’s not unlike a lunchroom full of kids pounding their utensils on the table demanding to be fed. Unfortunately but fortunately, we inherited Aunty Joann’s condos. We have three cages. Five of the seven dogs get to eat in their own rooms. Charlie has a perch, nest, or throne, atop the two cages where she eats. Troy eats in the kitchen. The boys break into competing protective barking to warn others away from their places. Charlie has her own demanding bark, which is basically “Feed me, Seymore. Feed me.” When any of them start, the other two join, which instigates the other dogs to run around as if they’re playing musical condos.
I enjoy taking them for hikes in the mountains, but I can only take three at a time and prefer to max out at two. The dogs who don’t get to go look at me like I just pooped inside each one of their Christmas presents. Half of them bark at everything, every person, every animal, every leaf blowing in the wind. They’re not in any way aggressive, except Tori. Two bigger dogs had a fight in what may have been her first training class. Tori got away and ran over to see what was happening. She had never seen aggression before. The much larger aggressive dog snapped at her and scared the shit out of her. Now, she lunges in the face of every large dog. I assume it’s to show that she’s not afraid. She also lunges at passing trucks, so maybe she’s an adrenaline junky. Charlie and Worf like to sniff and pee on everything. They will also poop multiple times per walk. They can make our typical 45-minute hikes take double that.
Baths are an all-day event. In the summer, we can put them outside to dry, but in the winter, Reginald has to blow dry them individually. I have to wash all the human and dog bedding and couch and chair covers since the dogs have run of the house, and I can’t keep them off my chairs when I try.
They love to fence fight and encourage the rest of the pack to join them. They pee everywhere in the yard, especially on my plants. I literally have nightmares about dog shit. The yard is refilled with shit daily. In the winter, it collects for days at a time. Fun fact, dog shit comes out warm and melts into the snow, which refreezes around it, encasing it for future generations to discover, or for me to pick up when it thaws. That is gross, and I wouldn’t add that little detail if it weren’t going to be on the test.
There are mitigating circumstances that affect what the perfect amount of dogs is for a household. Dogs come in many breeds, many sizes, with varying temperaments. Taking none of that into consideration, I can honestly say from experience that one or two dogs is the right amount. With one, it gets to be the only dog and gets all the training and attention. If you train it right, a lone dog is often well-behaved. Older people can handle a single small dog, and the dog will often be a faithful companion and lapdog. If you have two, they can keep each other company. If you are gone during the day, they can help entertain and exercise each other. Any more than that, and you’re asking for trouble. It’s very hard to train multiple dogs. Consistency is key. You will get impatient and let them bend the rules. Once they bend the rules, they start making new rules. They will encourage each other to break rules and get up to shenanigans. They form a pack mentality.
As much as I hate having seven dogs, I love each of them individually. I would never plan to have half this many dogs or total pets of any kind. I want a turtle. Life throws things at us and puts us into situations that we have to deal with or allow to defeat us. While the dogs often win battles, they will not defeat us. Fortunately, they are small and adorable. We will give them the best lives we can. They are all as happy as a dog who’s been through some shit can be, except when it’s not their day to go for the ride or hike.
Dang it! This post got way too long. That’s what happens when one has the legend of seven dogs to tell. That’s the way we became the doggy bunch, the doggy bunch.
