|Diaper? Fugget about it.|
Rachel wants to toilet train her new, young, hairy dachshund, but wanted convenience. So she puts a diaper on him. He sits down, and looks at her as if she is completely nuts.
She buys a larger diaper, figuring that perhaps the first one was uncomfortable. He sits down, refuses to move and looks at her as if she has just become a flock of insane parrots in a tree.
Undeterred, Rachel buys what she is told a doggy litter box like a cat might have. The little dog stares at the box for a few moments, cocks his head and looks at Rachel as if she is now quite completely loopy.
Rachel then takes her doggy litter box outside, figuring the dog mightd be more comfortable out there and she could still scoop up whatever he leaves in the box. Now the dog looks at her as if she is one card short of a full deck.
Act Five consists of Rachel carefully sopping up the considerable urine the dog leaves in the apartment and placing the rag on the litter box in the hopes of attracting the dog.
I point out that dogs like to pee where other dogs have marked the spot and can’t seem to care one way or another at their own spots. Rachel agrees and remembers that the dog looked at her as if she had both oars in the water but kept the boat tied firmly to the dock.
She finally gave up on her clever new-fangled solutions and began praising the dog when it did something right and scolding (a little) when it erred. The4 dog was housebroken within a week.
We also attempted to apply modern thinking and technology to housebreaking. We bought a pointed yellow with a large flat top that looked like a big yellow plastic thumb tack. It was supposed to contain stick pheromes designed to attract the dog to pee on the stick. Or maybe it was the yellow color. Whatever it was, the only success of the piss stick was in the sale to us. Other than that, it didn’t work, not once.
"Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot about puppies."