I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first? Because I assume you're like my students, I'll pretend you're all a-hollerin', "Give us the BAD news first, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. Just get it over with already!" So I will comply.
My adolescent, rescued doggie Juno has a new annoying habit. When I get in T-Hoe and open up the garage door to back out, Juno runs off the porch, around the garage, and through the door. That's not proper canine etiquette at the Mansion.
Tank used to have the audacity to come in the front door and chow down on the pan of dry cat food. Heck, Tank used to slither through the cat door on the other garage door, and eat up all that cat food while we were at school. Farmer H just thought we had really hungry cats. They entwined his legs crying for food when he arrived home. There were bottomless feline pits. So he concluded that a possum was coming in the cat door and eating their Meow Mix. I saw Tank's beagle butt disappear through the cat door one morning as we left. So much for Farmer H's theory. Tank has always been a naughty boy, most likely due to being allowed to keep his family jewels. But at least he knows when he's in trouble, and slinks off to pout for a couple of days. He rarely makes the same mistake twice.
Thursday, my sick day, I was headed back to school to pick up The Pony from academic team practice. As I was getting ready to push the button to close the garage door, I saw Juno's tail whipping back and forth. She was at the cat pan. I put down my window and hollered at her to get out. You know that didn't happen. She turned to look at me, then went back to munching. I had to get out and chase her around the garage until she left.
Juno pulled the uninvited guest trick again Saturday in the garage. And again, I hollered at her to get out. But here's the good news. She was ashamed! She went to the other garage door and sat down and hung her head. Which still didn't get her out of the garage.
This part Juno may not consider good news. I grabbed hold of her bright red collar (so stunning on her black wavy fur) and gave her two swats with my hand on her right haunch. All while sternly spouting, "No! Bad dog!" I dragged her to the open door and pushed her out.
You may think this cruel. But I ask you, would Juno rather be spanked and chastised, or have her head crushed under the tires of T-Hoe when she runs in while I am backing out? Even though Juno can't talk, I think I can say she would prefer the spanking.
The even better news, which may be only temporary, is that today, Juno stood beside the garage door and watched it close. She's still in the danger backing zone, but at least she's out in the open where she has a chance to run away from the tires, and not be trapped by the garage walls.
There may be obedience hope for out little gal yet. And Mr. Shocky has still to make an appearance.