Aversion Training

Last night my daughter took Luna (aka ‘Shmelly’) upstairs for a bath. Now that Luna has reached puppy adolescence her behavior is barely tolerable, never mind her smell. Daughter figures at least one problem has an immediate remedy.

I sat at the computer listening to the usual chorus of gurgling and splashing and “LUNA, NO!”, when suddenly all hell broke loose. There was a thrashing and clanging from the bathroom, accompanied by hysterical yells from my daughter and ear-splitting howls from THE BEAST.

In our bathroom is a small, steel mailbox-style trashcan with a dome lid and a swinging door slot on a spring. Of course Luna had to poke her nose in there and discover that the GOOD STUFF – used tissues and cosmetic wipes and dental floss – was all the way at the bottom! Naturally, she managed to get the 9-inch dome with the 4-inch opening wedged around her neck. My husband and I raced upstairs to find her masquerading as a studio light, with her head as the light bulb.

Here’s where I have to admit I may be taking my newfound interest in blogging a little too far. With Luna howling, my daughter hysterical and wounded from attempts to dislodge the lid, my husband straddling the dog and attempting to pry the contraption off, and my son panicking downstairs, I said,

“Wait. Can't we get a picture first?”

In my defense, I was thinking, we’re gonna have to take this idiot to the animal emergency hospital at nine o’clock at night and probably spend $3000 having a metal dome cut off her head. Can’t I get SOMETHING out of it?

My request was denied. Luna’s neck was slathered in baby shampoo and after much wrenching and twisting she was free. Of course, she now needed bath number two, to rinse out all the soap.

As you can see from the picture, Luna is no longer quite as fascinated with the trashcan. Good dog, Luna.