To clear things up, we are keeping the Plott Hound. Molly will not be paying shipping, as there is nothing to ship. These rogue blog entries are more proof that Molly is in dire need of some direction and pack leadership in her life.
Yes, it's true, we went to the lecture to learn how to get the Plott to behave and came home to the realization that we have created a monster out of Molly. A beautiful, cuddley monster, but a monster nonetheless. We do her every bidding. She needs only to look up at us and we fall to her feet and cuddle and pat her and tell her how wonderful she is. She needs only to give a whine and we invite her up on the couch with us for her evening worship session. She needs only to wag her tail at us and we jump up and say, "Well, let me get the door for you , dear." or "Oh, do you want your dinner? Coming right up!"
The result is that we have a very cuddley dog who doesn't listen to a damn thing we say. Which is usually fine as she's old and approaching infirm, but outside on a leash, it's a nightmare. It really is a "'barassment," as Molly said. Barking, pulling, out in the road. *sigh* Where did we go wrong?
So yesterday, in an attempt to rectify all of our "bad parenting," I ignored Molly's demands for attention and she hauled off and peed on her bed. It's called "incongruent urinating." The dog does it when it feels it's the pack leader and you correct them or don't do as they say. Their attitude is something like, "Hey, YOU can't tell ME what to do! You're not supposed to ignore/correct me!" They're confused. Never been told what to do before.
So it's great, we have a dog-pee house. That should relieve me of my responsibility to reciprocate those dinners with friends for a while.
In more positive news, I slapped the prong collar on Elvis this a.m. (I did start with a regular collar, but he's so used to pulling and tugging, corrections do no good with it). He walked way out ahead of me, gave himself a pinch, flattened to the ground like, "What he hell was that!" and walked smartly by my side the rest of the walk with only 1 or 2 exceptions. He still couldn't care less about what I'm doing/saying to him. I swear, I could fall down dead, and he'd just drag me at the end of the leash and not even notice the difference.
The ratties are wonderful. As I expect them to pee all over everything and chew my favorite items, their behavior never disappoints me.