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Paris (my Scottie, who's probably about twelve
years old now) and I are locked in an eternal struggle, from now
until the end of eternity. The way the game works is he, in his
never-ending quest to unseat
Achilles (my Westie, who's about thirteen) as the house's official
Alpha dog, finds a new and secret place to "mark." Eventually,
I tumble to the location, because of the rousing smell of vinegar.
Currently, I simply take one of those airline "kennels"
and lock Paris inside it, about three inches from the pee-stained
rug, for a sufficient number of hours for me to calm down. I like
seeing Paris thus locked up, because I feel there's some sort of
justice in it, his sharing the pee smell at close quarters like
that, and it keeps me from spanking him. Why should he trick me
into being a furious, sadistic, vicious beast, when I can calmly
torture him? Presently, we're in a "hold-and-glide" phase
of the relationship, with the empty kennel still next to his latest
spot, treated with the proper "odor eliminator" chemicals,
and him and me waiting for a fresh opportunity.
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