Terrier-ist Attacks

Ladies and Gentlemen of my adoring public, it may sadden you to hear about the dreadful circumstances which have kept me from my blog for these past two weeks. You may become distraught to hear how My Pet Human and her friends have thought nothing of wronging me so deeply after years of faithful service.

Alas, yes. I will spare your delicate sensibilities by withholding the full details of the terrible mistreatment. I will give you but one short phrase that will clearly illustrate the great betrayal.

Prepare yourselves.

Parents, cover your children's eyes. Dog owners, send your beloved pets outside. Cat owners... ah, who cares? Cats can handle it.

Are you ready?

You can never really be ready for something like this. I know I wasn't.

THEY.    HAD.    BACON.

An entire pound of bacon. For three humans. And not so much as a scrap for me, the loyal protector. They cooked it and ate it right in front of me. The tantalizing aroma mocked me. And they showed not a shred of remorse, hurling hurtful remarks at me such as "No! The last time you had bacon, I had to clean up dog-a-rrhea for almost a week!" See the depths of my sorrow? Humans make it all about them.

I must beg you not to report this egregious misdeed to PETA, although I can surely understand that you must want to. For I have exacted my own revenge. I became a terrier-ist! 

I started small, with standard annoyances such as eating everything that falls on the floor, changing sitting positions on My Pet Human's lap the minute she gets comfortable or starts working and  barking like a lunatic at every noise or shadow. Apparently those basics were too subtle, although the barky nonsense did get me a great calming collar - man, that's good stuff! But more about that later.

Then I stepped up my dog game a little - I progressed to things like tail-whipping at every available opportunity and hiding all manner of dog toys, chewy bones or knotty ropes in My Pet Human's bed. Did you ever see a human wake up in the middle of the night with a tennis ball in the kidneys? Ouch! And I'm a small breed, so that trick had a bonus effect. As My Pet Human put it, "Good Lord, Turkey, I thought I crushed your poor little head!" Panic and pain together. Sweet.

After that I moved on to real annoyances:

-- Pretending to think that "Down!" now means "Please Lick Me!"

-- Scarfing an entire can of vienna sausages right off a kitchen plate in My Child's hand

-- Boldly sticking my snout right into My Pet Human's drinking water.. Twice (That she knows of!)

-- Barking and scratching to be allowed into the bathroom, then immediately whining to be let out again.

-- Pawing a the phone or tablet screen and screwing up a game in progress

-- Being fed at 6:00 PM but purposely not eating until after 11:00 so I would surely have to go out in the middle of the night

-- Finally eating the stale French Fry that's been beside the neighbor's doormat all week (Bonus! It had ants!)

-- Turning three stacks of clean, folded laundry into the most comfortable dog nest EVER, then having a nap. And having the nerve to snore.

I almost stopped my terrier-istic onslaught after that... I almost showed mercy. But then I remembered how delicious that Bacon smelled, and how I couldn't even get a crumb. I remembered how that wonderful Bacon had been turned into Bacon Cheeseburgers for them but nothing but kibble for poor little misunderstood Turkey Dog.

So I pulled out the big guns.  I waited until just after 3:00 AM on the coldest night of the week. My Pet Human was fast asleep in a toasty warm bed. I got up, shook myself and jumped out of bed. I whined at the door and circled around, just like I have to do when I need to go out. Finally My Pet Human woke up. She tried everything to talk me out of it - "Awwww Turkeeeyyyy....  Nooooooo... Do you have to go out? You don't have to go out. Are you sure you have to go out?" but I insisted. I whined and pawed and put up a terrible fuss, like I was about to foul the carpet (though I wouldn't go that far - It's a self-resepect thing. Un-dog-nified, even.)

So she dragged herself out of bed, put the leash on and we walked outside. Barefoot and in pajamas, if you believe that. Silly human! Normally I am pretty quick about lawn business, especially on chilly nights. But not that night.

I stood on the edge of the sidewalk until My Pet Human got annoyed enough to nudge me onto the grass. Then I meandered around the yard for a while and tangled my leash around a balcony support pole, which required My Pet Human to come off the concrete into the wet grass to untangle. I managed to explore the backyard for about 15 minutes before My Pet Human gave up and trailed me back inside. I hadn't done a thing - hadn't even peed a drop!

Muahahahahaha!

I did some hard time for that one - spent the rest of that night in my crate - but it was well worth it! It took My Pet Human almost an hour to get back to sleep! Yeah, that's right, now who's got the Bacon? Ok, um... yeah, still not me, but you know what I mean. Terrier-ists don't use logic very well.

So I've let up for a while now, just to see if she has learned her lesson. Hopefully she has, but training humans can be tough. I'll keep you posted.

-- Turkey