Dog hate

I did some random googling and I came across this:

http://www.benjamingran.com/2012/02/03/i-hate-dogs/

There are actually lot of negative dog stories in the search results but this one stuck out because the family in my Natalie stories have a yellow Lab. Yes they shed and my mom would sometimes have hair all over her from my therapist’s dog she would bring to her office and I always loved seeing that dog. His name was Jake. I am sure he is dead now because he would be 21 years old human years and those big dogs normally live ten years. Every Lab I have known and heard about have only lived that long before they needed to be put to sleep or something. My husband had a Rottweiler that lived to be 15. She was a family dog and then she got breast cancer and had to be put to sleep and my husband mourned her death but she was a very smart dog. He told me a story about the time she pooped in the house and he picked it up and rubbed it in her nose and took it outside and she never did it again. She had connected that poop goes outside so that is where she goes but yet rubbing her face in her wet spot never worked but the poop thing did. Maybe if it were possible to pick up the pee and throw it outside she would have made that connection too.

But we had a dog when I was 16 and I hated that animal. We had just moved house and I was already having more anxiety and then my dad had to bring home a miniature Schnauzer. He has ADHD so he gets impulsive and he was at the mall pet store and he saw all these little Schnauzers and they were on sale because they were close to six months. He buys one of the dogs and he gets a male dog this time and brings it home. My mom is not happy but the rest of us love that animal. Sound familiar in my Natalie story? That dog always squeaked instead of whimpering so we named him Squeaky. But not too long later I find pee on the floor and my mom said it was an accident so she cleaned it up and my anxiety is gone. I actually freaked out over a wet spot. He does it again other times and we clean it up. Then one day I am in the basement playing a video game and Squeaky runs int he basement after he had just come inside and he goes to my dollhouse and lifts his leg and I don’t think anything because he had just been outside and then I hear a hissing sound and I freak out and he runs and I grab him and bring him upstairs and I am so mad I clinch my arms and he squeals because I squeezed him so hard and then I loosen my body and my dad cleans up the mess and I am screaming that was no accident because he lifted his leg so he did it on purpose. I realize the other wet spots he had done were no accidents. This continues on and one day he comes up from the basement and this time he had peed on the tile floor. I would try to keep him outside and then he would run inside to pee so I wanted him outside or in his crate but everyone thought it was so cruel to keep him locked up. I have tremendous anxiety because of that animal so I act worse and then I decide to be Frankie to get my way to get rid of all the anxiety because he is in control of his mother with his abuse. All I had to do was be abusive and break things and be tough and I will have an easier life like Frankie does. But instead it backfires because my mom told me she would put me in a hospital. I then resent Frankie that he got his way and I didn’t and he had an easier life than me and then I grew to hate him when I found out what he did to my family. Throwing an ax at my brothers and wrecking my parents hammock. I never ever thought he could abuse my family members and destroy our property so he was out of my life and I have never taken kindly to abuse ever since. Yeah I was a hypocrite because I didn’t seem to care he was harming other kids and adults in his school and mistreating his mother even though I was shocked at how he treated her when I witnessed it. He had transformed into a different person once we got to his house. But yet I was still his friend until what he did to my family. Then that was where I drew the line and decided bye bye. I never even told him if he ever did that shit to my family I will never want to see him again because I never thought he would act that way to my family. I thought he only did it at home and in school. Now I know better. I won’t be that naive again.

So I would take that dog outside often but he would always come inside to pee so I thought that dog was evil. He preferred to pee indoors and lot of people seem to not believe this because what kind of animal prefers to go indoors right. That is why I sometimes like to look up dog hate stories and they are worse than Squeaky. At least I know I am not crazy like people have always made me feel out to be. I can remember my therapist laughing when I was 16 after he was dead and saying “Oh you thought he was defiant. ‘No I won’t go outside, I will just pee in the playroom.'” But I didn’t see any difference. I have a memory of coming home and Squeaky comes inside and he lifts his leg in the kitchen and I race for him and he runs and tries to lift his leg again and I grab him but he keeps on running and trying to go so I finally grab him and throw him outside and close the door winning his game. I had won. I swore he was teasing me and trying to pee and I wouldn’t let him so he kept on running and I chased after him playing his game. I was in a constant battle with my family about that damn dog my mom calls him. I would lock him up and they would let him loose for him to pee all over and I discovered he had found a new spot to pee in, the play room instead of the basement. That dog just never wanted to go outside. But all he did was peed in the house, he never chewed up anything or wrecked anything, he only peed and he never peed on anything except floors and carpets. I hated that animal and I often had thoughts about killing him. I also had violent thoughts about him too like wanting to burn him on the stove or burn him with hot water and just slam him on the floor or throw him from our back deck and I also had nightmares about him too. In one of my dreams he got sentenced to death for peeing in the house and refusing to go outside so he was strapped in the electric chair and electrocuted but didn’t die. He just suffered with pain and squeaked loudly and everyone watched. He was getting all the pain he was giving me from my anxiety. It was payback. Then on February 1st 2002, he got hit by a car. I didn’t find this out until Sunday when my mother gave me the news. Her exact words were “Squeaky got hit by a car.” I said “Really?” She nods. “Are you serious?” She nods. I asked if he died and she nodded. I felt like it was all a dream but I realized I was not sad. I say to her “How come I am not upset about it?” She said “Maybe because you didn’t like him very much.” I feel like a psychopath for not feeling bad and she told me she didn’t really like that dog either and she felt relieved when he died. There was nothing wrong with me for feeling that way. I felt relieved I was not the only one who didn’t like that animal. My mom didn’t like him because of all the anxiety and chaos he caused even though it was not his fault. My dad should not have brought that dog home and he should have taken it back or rehome him. With the move and transitioning and my anxiety, it was not the right time for another dog and none of us were willing to watch him and I was right all along about crating him. It is not cruel to crate a animal. You are supposed to do it when house training them. Then when un crate them, you are supposed to watch them and if you can’t watch them, you crate them and you take them outside. If they don’t go, you keep them in there until they do go and give them a treat within 3 seconds after going. I find this all out this year when I looked online about why some dogs prefer to go in the house. Now I think people could have been right all along and that he was just an innocent animal and he could have been confused. He came from a pet shop so he had always peed inside so he had it backwards with his toilet.

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