Tough Love

Whenever parents smack their children they always say, “This hurts me more than it hurts you.”  Having never been a parent, I always considered this statement bullshit.

Today I think I can understand.  Sometime last night our naughty Boy Dog tipped over the rubbish bin, scattered its contents across the house and then peed on said contents.  I was already in a bad mood because I was running late for work, so I was supremely displeased to discover that the downstairs resembled a landfill.  

Ordinarily Boy Dog’s punishment for this offence is to be banished to the courtyard until I leave for work.  However, while I was cleaning up and ranting like a lunatic (what must the neighbours have thought?), boy dog peed on the clean laundry in our bedroom!  This called for a more drastic punishment. 

I decided to lock him outside for the whole day.  This may not sound too harsh but I should explain that my doggies are pampered house dogs.  They sleep in our bed and spend their days lounging on the sofa.  Girl Dog hates rain and Boy Dog is terrified of the wind.  They are wusses and we spoil them rotten.  But Boy Dog needs a little tough love, right?  When I left for work he was pressed against the dog door feeling sorry for himself.  I could hear his cries as I slammed the front door.

Any other day I wouldn’t feel too guilty about leaving him in the yard but my co-worker informed me that Sydney is expecting 50mm of rain this afternoon.  There’s no shelter in the back yard and he’ll get soaked.

It hasn’t started raining yet but already the guilt is killing me.  But while I’m ringing my hands and gritting my teeth, he’s probably having a grand ole’ time.  I imagine he’s barking at cats and birds or soaking up heat from the bricks, like a lizard.  This probably does hurt me more than him…until it starts pouring.

I’ve decided that at the first drop of rain I’m racing home and letting him in.  I’m just no good at tough love.

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