Attempting to Train a Dog

I lived in college dorms for 9 years. Yes, most people don't make it past 4 years, but I am a bit of an overachiever when it comes to all inclusive living. There are many downfalls to being a 30-year-old living a dorm, the most obvious being the denial of one of America's most basic rights, the right to own a dog.  Within two weeks of finally maturing and moving out of the dorm, I got a dog.  Years of deprivation may have attributed to my instant over obsession with my dog. I miss her when I leave and make every excuse to spoil her when I am home. I bring her up at least once a day with my co-workers, who I am sure are annoyed that I talk about my dog literally every day. My intensity would be  normal if I was a 7-year-old boy, but I am not. I am a 31-year-old single woman. I should be obsessed with my kids but since I am circumstantially barren, I have chosen to obsess over my dog. So Suck it. (Please sing that like Sean and Gus. If you are unfamiliar with the reference, please google, and then sing). 

Although I love my dog, I can, hesitantly admit that she is sometimes the worst. She takes her role of guard dog so seriously that she barks at every noise outside no matter what time. Thank you everyone who drives down my street at 3AM, appreciate it.  If a car actually pulls into our driveway, she goes crazy barking at the door warning the would-be-intruder not to come any closer; however, if they do come closer and perhaps use their key to get into the house, she ends up peeing on the floor and shaking in a corner. This has happened on multiple occasions when my brother-in-law has had the nerve to come home late when she, the dog, wasn't expecting him. To keep us all on our toes (pun intended) for a week, out of nowhere, she decided she would rather pee on the floor than actually let someone know she needed to go outside.  On two occasions when she was on a walk OUTSIDE, she pooped in the middle of our busy sidewalk. To top it off, she peed in my bed, TWICE.

Despite her continual ridiculousness, we still love her and attempt to train her. She has learned to sit and lay-down like a champ. She hasn't had an "Accident" (better called an "On Purpose") in the house for weeks.  Because she has mastered these basics, I have started attempting to teach her to stay. She hasn't quite grasped the concept. When I tell her to sit...  she sits, when I tell her to lay down.... she lays down, but when I tell her to stay... she stays for one second and then she walks towards me excited and ready for a treat! It’s a very frustrating process. I don’t need her to stay for any particular reason, and I am not asking her to stay forever. I am just asking for her to stay until I tell her she can go. I need her to trust me and learn to follow my commands, so that one day when it is important, she will respond correctly. 

I never thought I would compare myself to a dog, especially after the "Good Dog" fiasco (Please refer to blog post- Tales of a Girl Who Loved to Much), but I HATE being told to STAY. I hate it. Lord, if you want me to sit, bring it. If you want me to lay down, I'll pack up my work gear and go home right now, because laying down might be my favorite command. But, if you ask me to "stay" in a place that is boring and mundane and where I am confused by your purpose, I am going to try and get up as fast as humanly possible.  I know that you love me, despite my many "accidents" and "on purposes". I know that your intentions are for my good, and that you are wiser than I can fathom. I know that what feels like an eternity of waiting, is actually seconds compared to the eternity I will spend with you.  So I am attempting to be obedient to what I know and not what I feel. I am learning to stay, one second at a time, and, although, it may take a couple of accidents on the floor, I am learning, I hope, to be obedient to my master.