Goose is the younger brother and as such it is his reponsibility to torment his older brother on a pretty much nonstop basis. It is cute the way he grabbed Mike’s tail in his mouth. It is adorable the way he hangs from Mike’s neck. It is all cute to us, but not to Mike. And really after the first couple of times, it isn’t all that cute. We can see the dismay in Mike’s eyes. Get this @&#%ing thing off me, they say.
Then the humping began. If friends don’t let friends dry hump, then certainly one shouldn’t let one’s puppy frantically hump one’s grown dog. But all of this behavior is harder to prevent than you might think. Up until now the only real solution is separating them and that is torture for all four of us; auditory torture. Goose loooves Mike and needs to be near him for the chewing and the humping and just pleeeease let me out of the crate, I promise I’ll be good. There is however a more permanent solution, at least so we hope. It is the exorcism.
So we made an appointment with our priest (or vet) to perform the ceremony (or surgery). It is time to get the devil out of our little Goosebump (or get the little bumps out of our Goose). I am told there won’t be any head spinning or projectile vomiting in this version.
There are many reasons to neuter your dog. The real reason for performing this ritual is of course to control the canine population. We are not, strangely enough, going to breed Goose although I maintain whatever mix he is could absolutely be the new designer dog. He doesn’t fit into a purse, but neither does a Puggle. And Puggles are so 2007 anyway.
All that responsible-pet-owner stuff aside, if one byproduct of this exorcism is a little less humping and a little more peace, then I am all for it (I am guessing Mike will be on board as well). The downside of the surgery is how utterly pathetic a puppy looks in a lampshade:
So not the life of the party, this week anyway.