Is a dog capable of sarcasm?
You know, if you asked me that question a couple of years ago, I would have said no, but now that I have a disloyal and ungrateful dog, I believe that the answer to that question is yes.
Last week, Rachelle’s sister Sommer stayed with us while she was visiting Toronto. Heidi, our Miniature Dachshund, very nearly went insane with joy. She swooned about Sommer, complimenting her on her perfume and shiny hair. She made her little smoothies and helped her off with her boots, always sleeping on her bed, like it was just the greatest place on the planet.
It was disgusting to watch.
Whenever I called Heidi, or asked her to do something, she just gave me a sarcastic “AS IF” look. And of course, the more I persisted, the worse it became.
She would only respond to Sommer
After six glasses of wine on Friday night, I decided that I had enough of this disrespect and decided to assert my Alpha status in the household. I cleared the women folk (human) from the apartment, and then commenced my display of dominance by shrieking at the dog for 20 minutes, telling her everything about her that I’ve been disappointed in over the years. I let her know in no uncertain terms that she was a horrible bug hunter, couldn’t dig worth a shit, and was an unmitigated disaster when it came to Fetch.
It was a pretty awesome and thunderous display, which was likely enhanced by my tears. However, instead of receiving contrition and submission from the animal, I got attitude. She turned her head away, as if she wasn’t listening, and then just started to yip away in a sarcastic bark. It was at this point that the neighbours complained about the noise, and a silent staring battle between myself and the dog began.
This proved inconclusive.
Now furious and frustrated, I ripped off my shirt and challenged Heidi. We fought for nearly 20 minutes, and thankfully, using my superior intellect, I was able to pin her and establish my dominant status after frightening her by turning on the vacuum cleaner.
The next day, everything seemed to have returned to normal. However, while I was walking her, she began to pull very violently against the leash. I commanded her to stop, but she continued, yanking me onto an icy patch. I Immediately slipped and tumbled down a little slope. When I opened my eyes and figured out what had happened, Heidi came walking slowly over to me. She put one paw on my throat and placed her snout right up to my nose and just looked at me with black, burning eyes. And then very slowly, she exerted a just a little bit more pressure on my throat with her paw. Near panic, I was just about to hit her with a Pizza Pizza box I had rolled onto by the curb, but at that moment she saw a cat and began to bark madly, and the chilling spell was broken.