Befriending the Beast

Now that I live at home, I have three new roommates: Dad, Mom, & Delilah the beast. Ok, ok, she’s not really a beast. In fact, if you’ve met her you know that she’s one of the sweetest, cuddliest dogs on the block. But if you’re my sister Nicki or me, you know she’s a B in more than the literal sense. 

Background story of Delilah: in my senior year of high school I managed to convince my parents that as they rapidly approached ENS (Empty Nest Syndrome) they needed another companion around in the form of a puppy. That’s when they got Delilah, the adorable yellow lab puppy. Once my sister and I returned from college for Christmas break, we realized that adorable little puppy had grown into Mom & Dad’s third child, or as we like to call her Cindy (as in the youngest sister of the Brady Bunch). Delilah filled the role of youngest sister well. She had Mom & Dad in the palm of her hand, she kissed up to them on the regular (quite literally with that lavish tongue of hers), she became jokingly--but maybe seriously--their favorite child. And worst of all, she didn’t listen to Nicki or me in slightest when it came to tricks and commands. 

Enter reverted version of Kate now living at home and spending the most time with beastly, beezy Delilah. Starting on Wednesday, I decided to make it my new goal to Alpha Dog that B. I began slow with belly rubs and tug-o-war around the house. Then I moved it outside to the park and tested my ability to control her with the power of treats. She responded well to that. And then today, as I got out my running shoes for my morning jog, she surprised me by laying her pretty white head right on top of them: 

I hadn’t originally planned on running with her, but then I thought what an opportune moment to test my progress of taming the beast. I grabbed Delilah’s leash, a poop bag (with high hopes of not needing it), the coveted bag of treats, and then put on a high-pitched dog-talking voice and asked her ever so politely, “D, wanna go on a run with me puppy?” To which she responded with a positive full circle spin and tail wag. 

Once we hit the road, I began to fear all that could go wrong with her running next to me. But to my surprise, she did great. Although, as I kept a steady jog, she kept a steady walk. What an insult to my speed. Every now and again she would stop to pee--alright, that’s allowed--and from time to time she’d dart in front of me to eat something tasty in the middle of the sidewalk. One time there was a fallen plumb in front of us and I nearly ate it on her as she attempted to eat it off the ground. We recovered nicely. I even looked at her at the end and asked, “Ok Delilah, are you ready to sprint to the finish?” (yes, I’m that crazy lady who talks to her dog in the middle of the sidewalk). I think Delilah thought I asked if she wanted some more treats, because she glanced at the bag in my hand and then picked up her paws to keep in-step with my sprint. I gave her three treats at the end of it all, because, moral of this long story, it turns out all it takes to tame the beast is a multitude of Milkbones.