For the record, I have several rants brewing, so that’s going to be the theme for a while.
Bubba is a head case. We all know that. He’s my head case. I love that dog but sometimes he can work your last nerve. Like jumping on Norman and starting the brawl to end it all when Norman was down with an abscessed anal gland. Really Bubba? Extraordinarily dickish.
So I spent $275 taking him to an animal behaviorist. In this particular case I would have been better off with a witch doctor. The idiot I went to, first words out of her mouth were about his prong collar. I knew the conversation and the appointment were doomed. The next person that pops off at me about my prong collars is going to get punched in the face. And then while they are laying on the ground, I’m putting my prong collar on them and proving to them that they are an ignorant pile of parrot droppings. A prong collar properly used does not hurt the dog unless a situation arises where a stern correction is needed. When might a stern correction be needed? When my dog is fixin’ to swallow your Yorkie. Do you want me to say “Now Bubba, it’s not nice to swallow the Yorkie?” or do you want me to jerk him out of his dog suit and save your Yorkie the trauma of being swallowed by a 75lb Doberman? They are dogs, we cannot predict what they are going to do. We do our best to train them and hope for the best. Every now and then, NATURE get the best of them. So all of you Jean Donaldson wannabe asshats, kindly STFU.
He’s Bubba. He is not the bastion of good decision making. He’s Bubba. There’s a reason he got that name. Does he mind? Yeah about 90% of the time. Do you want to take that chance on the street? I don’t. So kindly shut your pie holes all of you so very concerned think you know everything there is to know about dogs types. You don’t know me and you don’t know Bubba.