Nunn is still irritated by his pets.
I despise my pets on occasion.
Some pet owners may squirm at the idea, but I get irritated by the simple things my dogs do. My cats and children are in the same boat, but that's a topic for another day
I grew up with dogs, but because we lived on a farm and they were outdoor dogs, I didn't know how difficult it was to live with them until I was an adult.
Smitty, our eldest dog, was also an outside dog when we initially adopted him. We were experiencing problems with predators stealing our chicks, so we decided the best course of action was to purchase a dog as a deterrent. We adopted Smitty when he was around three years old, and he had some negative behaviors to break, but he soon became the proud protector of our laying hens, fending off raccoons, foxes, opossums, and other predators. Smitty had the time of his life doing that job for approximately six years till we moved downstate and got rid of our laying chickens.
At that moment, leaving Smitty outside was no longer a viable option. While he wore a heavy mountain dog coat and enjoyed being outside in all kinds of weather, he had nothing to do.
Smitty has reached the end of his usefulness. He now moves slowly, lays around a lot, and sleeps a lot, resembling a huge black sack of potatoes.
Smitty snores loudly as well.
His snore usually begins softly, but soon his lips, cheeks, and jowls create a wet flopping noise against his teeth, and he sounds like an old hit-or-miss engine — put, put, POP, put, put, POP. This wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't always within 15 feet of me, which may be aggravating while I'm working remotely.
Smitty also has the ability to clear a room with his flatulence. His gas reminds me of some of the worst field spraying I've ever encountered, the kind where you can practically taste it. It's a complete disaster.
However, while his snoring and farting irritate me, I don't hold it against him.
Peach, our middle dog, irritates me to no end. Peach was the first of our "pandemic adoptees," and based on her behavior, I'm guessing she spent the early part of her existence at the end of a short chain, getting a boot in the buttocks from an impatient owner.
At first, Peach was a difficult task for us. While Smitty enjoys being caressed, he is also content to give you some room. Peach, on the other hand, believes she requires constant attention 24 hours a day, seven days a week. She has the build of a typical bully mix, yet she thinks of herself as a cat or a small lap dog. She has no qualms about getting up on your lap or attempting to lay on the couch's back. She also enjoys chewing on items that aren't hers. So far, dozens of headphones, multiple remote controls, furniture, and around 1.2 million NERF darts have been recovered.
Peach also has a licking habit, which is most noticeable when you're standing in your robe at 5 a.m., preparing a cup of coffee, and she decides to give you a messy kiss on the back of your bare knees.
But, as much as Peach's clutter-eating, knee-licking, lap-dog-identifying nature irritates me, I can't blame her.
Chase, on the other hand, is a unique case.
Chase, we assume, is a white Coton de Tulear puppy. I was envious of my cousin's adorable little Bichon Frise, so when Chase's prior owner needed to find him a new home, I jumped at the chance. He didn't come with any disclaimers, unfortunately.
Despite the fact that Chase is only about the size of a football, he identifies with something considerably larger. Chase will start barking if a dog goes past the home, and this will continue until he is physically exhausted. YIP, YIP, YIP, This happens when things are delivered to our house, when the trash or postal truck passes by, when the kids get home, or even when I go home – despite practically watching me walk to the door from the window.
I needed to leave the house for a couple of hours earlier today while I was alone at home. Peach and Chase, as you might expect, have separation anxiety, so when we leave the house for an extended period of time, they are separated in kennels.
Chase, on the other hand, seemed to have other plans, for despite my repeated calls for him, he didn't show up. Chase had opted to kennel up with Peach when I peered around the corner. I locked the dogs in and went about my work, unwilling to argue with the jerk.
The kennel resistance is bothersome, but it doesn't surprise or annoy me. It was when I arrived home that I was caught off guard. When I pulled into the driveway, I could hear Chase barking excitedly. As I opened the front door, he began to bark. As I opened the kennel, he continued to bark. Even as I walked the dogs to the back door to let them out, he continued to bark. Then he barked madly as he sprang off the back porch like Superman and rushed out into the yard. This barking lasted for almost three minutes as he rushed around outside.
I have a large dog that thinks he's a sack of potatoes, a bully mix who thinks he's a kitten, and a lap dog who thinks he's the man of the house — the alpha supremo — and isn't afraid to let the world know it. He'll bark furiously at strangers, visitors, family, squirrels, leaves, the wind... He barks at anything and everything.
To be honest, I don't mind the dog or any of our other animals. However, several of their mannerisms irritate me, particularly the constant barking. They are some of the worst roommates because of their habits, but we tolerate them for some reason. I'd split in half if I lived with someone who constantly farted, barked, and licked themselves.