You know, I am beginning to think that I am a bad pet owner. You be the judge.
I have a Rottweiler named Roscoe. His is five years old now; I got him right after I moved into my house. Funny thing about Roscoe, he was not my first choice from the litter of puppies I was allowed to look at. However he was my only choice. Let me explain. When I went to the house of the family who had advertised they had Rottweiler puppies for sale, they lead me into the kitchen to see the four pups they had left. As I was walking into the kitchen this cute little puppy picked up a little nylon leash, which was on the floor, and brought it over to me like we were going for a walk. Like it had picked me!
Of course I was immediately impressed and fell in love with the little thing. As I reached down to take the leash and pat the dog on the head, I inform the young master of the house that this is the one that I wanted. He immediately dashed my hopes by telling me that it was a girl. Sorry, I can’t do girl dogs. I have been told stories about girl dogs and their feminine issues, and I just can’t deal with that kind of crap. After all, I was considering keeping the damn thing inside. He goes on to let me know that he has only one male dog left and that is how I came to own Roscoe.
The naming of Roscoe:
Now, I am the master of naming animals. I can come up with a suitable name for a dog in a moment. I have renamed everyone of the mutts that have come and gone in my mom’s house and have even renamed my nieces cats. It’s funny though…I am the only one who calls these animals by their new names. I DON’T CARE.
For some reason, when it came to naming my new puppy I couldn’t come up with name that stuck. He was almost called Hero, because that is what I wanted him to be. However, it just so happened that I was at the Petsmart and this young white couple (and yes, I have to say the race, because it is all about race with me), and they were enamored with my new puppy. They asked me what his name was and I told them that he didn’t have a name yet, because Hero was not working for me. I asked them what they thought his name should be. The guy thought about it for a second and came up with Roscoe. I thought it fit and so Roscoe it was.
House breaking Roscoe:
I literally house broke Roscoe within five days, seriously. I had no choice, but if I had to do it again I know that I wouldn’t be able to. Roscoe’s ability to be house broken so fast had nothing to do with me and everything to do with how smart my dog was. I tried that crap about taking his ass out every time I feed him and stuff, but that ended day one. I’m lazy. Shit, I don’t even like to get up to take myself to the bathroom. That being said, I hate cleaning up poop, so something had to give. You see, I couldn’t just leave him in the backyard, because my fence was dilapidated at the time and he would have gotten free (and people steal Rottweiler puppies).
What I did was leave the back door open, giving Roscoe the ability to go outside and come back in at will. I love how fast he caught on to that. Seriously. By week five, he was no longer doing his business in the house.
The other part of house breaking Roscoe was teaching him not to fuck with my stuff. That little bastard was chewing on shoes, watches and even my little Kermit the Frog. Let me explain. Although I have managed to keep my house clean for almost a month (Applause, please), this was not the case back then. So, since I figured it was easier to train Roscoe than the retrain myself, Roscoe caught a beat down. After a few of those, we were all good. Till this date, I can leave food right within his reach and he will not touch it. He knows better.
I even took him to the vet, every two weeks…and yall know black folks don’t take their mutts to the vet. (Stereotype alert, but it’s true).
Okay, here comes the bad owner part. I feed my dog, water my dog, even bought him a dog house. However, what I don’t do is take him for walks. I use to, but then I got lazy and damn it, if I’m lazy he needs to be just as lazy. Also, sometimes I forget go buy him a new bag of dog food, which leaves me thawing out whatever meets I have in my freezer, toss it into the microwave and give it to him. A couple of weeks ago it was too late to thaw anything out so I had to give him a whole box of Life cereal, with a little milk. As I was fixing my poor dog a big ass bowl of cereal it dawned on me that I was probably a bad pet owner.
So, what do you think? Am I?
-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.
Okay, I know that I need to take better care of my dog. I really do love the mutt (purebreed, thank you very much). He has, after all, proven that he will attack on my command, which was surprising as hell to me.