Well a new era has swept the Wayward household. It's called "The New Era of Boerboel and Spidermonkey Sleeping Outside at Night".
Some dirty ass mo-fo stole our 48-kg gas bottle from the front porch while we slept on saturday and I basically had to wallow in embarrassment when recalling the story to friends and neighbours as they all manage to reply with the same line: "but you've got that big attack monster in your yard, how did he manage to NOT rip the intruders' faces off???" And I have to reply with "uh, well, our attack monster sleeps inside with us". DOH!
We have made him sleep outside on occasion but he always winds up underneath our bedroom window with his giant front paws up on the window sill crying and moaning and crying and crying all night long. And broken-hearted mommy just can't resist the big monster's sobbing. It's like some freaky combination of a wolf howl and a baby cry with a little bit of Everly Brothers back-up singers thrown in. But the new plan is working: luxurious leather boerboel bean-bag out on the stoep, AND Reilly as well. He copes much better with the company, and LOVES the beanbag, no matter where its location is.
(Not to mention during the middle of the night R. is much more alert to any tiny sound or movement anyway and gets set off like a firecracker if she even so much as senses any presence around the house). She's woken me up 3 out of 3 nights this week alerting us to various noises around the plot. This is great insofar as potential intruders go, but OH BALLS!-worthy when it comes to the critters and non-invasive wind noises in the bush around the yard. As you're supposed to do when training a watch dog, you HAVE to go investigate every alert, so that they believe and get reinforced that what they're doing is right. So *I* get to go out in 2 degrees in my holey slippers at 3am to tell her thanks for alerting me to the fact that the dog next door has let himself out to go pee.
Anyway as pathetic as it may be, it tore me up the first night when I had to put the biggies to bed outside in the bone chilling winter cold while the littleys (Reg & Billyboy) got to drift off in hound luxury in their inside beds. But it was made much easier for me the nights thereafter when, at bedtime, I just opened the back door and both biggies went happily bouncing off to their beds on the stoep without a single look back. I guess that was the universe's way of making it easier on poor old mom & dad... turns out they really *don't* mind. Wow. I'm so lame.
Some dirty ass mo-fo stole our 48-kg gas bottle from the front porch while we slept on saturday and I basically had to wallow in embarrassment when recalling the story to friends and neighbours as they all manage to reply with the same line: "but you've got that big attack monster in your yard, how did he manage to NOT rip the intruders' faces off???" And I have to reply with "uh, well, our attack monster sleeps inside with us". DOH!
We have made him sleep outside on occasion but he always winds up underneath our bedroom window with his giant front paws up on the window sill crying and moaning and crying and crying all night long. And broken-hearted mommy just can't resist the big monster's sobbing. It's like some freaky combination of a wolf howl and a baby cry with a little bit of Everly Brothers back-up singers thrown in. But the new plan is working: luxurious leather boerboel bean-bag out on the stoep, AND Reilly as well. He copes much better with the company, and LOVES the beanbag, no matter where its location is.
(Not to mention during the middle of the night R. is much more alert to any tiny sound or movement anyway and gets set off like a firecracker if she even so much as senses any presence around the house). She's woken me up 3 out of 3 nights this week alerting us to various noises around the plot. This is great insofar as potential intruders go, but OH BALLS!-worthy when it comes to the critters and non-invasive wind noises in the bush around the yard. As you're supposed to do when training a watch dog, you HAVE to go investigate every alert, so that they believe and get reinforced that what they're doing is right. So *I* get to go out in 2 degrees in my holey slippers at 3am to tell her thanks for alerting me to the fact that the dog next door has let himself out to go pee.
Anyway as pathetic as it may be, it tore me up the first night when I had to put the biggies to bed outside in the bone chilling winter cold while the littleys (Reg & Billyboy) got to drift off in hound luxury in their inside beds. But it was made much easier for me the nights thereafter when, at bedtime, I just opened the back door and both biggies went happily bouncing off to their beds on the stoep without a single look back. I guess that was the universe's way of making it easier on poor old mom & dad... turns out they really *don't* mind. Wow. I'm so lame.
Giant front paws. Giant snootly snout. Sniffly Snoutly Snoot. Beeaaggley Bassety, Snort.