Mud Wrestling for Alpha Dog

So for the most part Roscoe is a good boy. Besides ripping up magazines (new ones in particular) and being a bed hog I can't complain much about him as a roommate. Except one thing...

The mud.

I've mentioned here before that Roscoe is the only dope in dog park who will intentionally jump, splash around, and lay down in mud puddles. I'll yell at him every time he goes near any mud- but out of blatant spite he'll ignore my yells and do like a quickie jump in jump out before running off all excited for cheating. He knows I don't like it. He does it anyway. Intentionally. I'm sure of it. I realize he's a dog and dogs do what they will. But I'm pretty lax with stuff. All I ask of him is don't jump in the friggin mud.

See the problem is when he gets filthy it becomes a whole project for me. I have to throw him in the shower and give him a hose down bath with dog shampoo which takes a while because he's furry. Like 20 minutes. My nozzle head is like on a hose which is convenient- but what a friggin pain. In his defense he does stand there like a mensch and doesn't complain about it while the bathing is going on. But once he's done he runs out of the shower and all over the apartment because being wet makes him mental. He shakes out all over the place. He won't let me dry him off with a towel. He runs out of control like he's been zapped. Water ends up everywhere.

Anyway, it's been raining alot here lately so the two of us have been cooped up for a while. And when Roscoe gets to be high energy he ain't easy. He'll bark at me to entertain him like I'm his monkey. If I ignore him within minutes I'll hear something going on in the other room and catch him in the act of something. Or he'll come marching in here with a flip flop in his mouth all proud at his blatant thievery and attention winning strategy.

Today he really had to burn off energy so we went to dog park even though I was nervous about the mud factor. There was a 50/50 shot there'd still be a mud puddle here and there. Sure enough there was one. A big one.

Every friggin dog in the park avoids the mud puddle. Jumps over it. Steers clear. But Roscoe loves it. I'm sure it's extra gross with poop and pee and he seems to appreciate that. So today I waved him off of it over and over but he kept coming back to check in on the mud. To see if it was ok. And I'd yell for him to get away. He'd do his splattery jump in jump out for a second or two then run off all crazy. That's his MO. I accepted the fact that his legs and underside were gonna get mudded up but I just didn't want him to friggin roll in it. It stunk. I didn't want to deal. It's the only thing I was asking.

Then he started pushing it. He turned my yelling at him to get away from the mud into a game. He'd try to get past me and I grab him by the collar and spin him around and chuck him away from the mud... but he'd come back. Again and again. And eventually we were making a scene. I was literally yelling at him and grabbing him by the scruff to keep him from the mud but he'd keep coming back. Right away. Getting mouthy. He was getting mental. He wanted in that mud. Big time. He decided he was alpha dog. He decided to decide that he decides things. We went at it. I eventually stepped into the mud puddle myself with my flip flop (gross!) while trying to keep him out. Dog park people started pointing and laughing. Roscoe was relentless. We seriously were like in a fight. I was slipping in the mucky muck. I was losing.

Finally Roscoe got past me and triumphantly splatted down in the mud totally and rubbed his whole face in it. He was basically lying down in at. At this point the a crowd were officially getting a real kick out of our fight. But was pissed. I was mad at Roscoe for defying my orders. Mad at my mud covered foot. Mad at him for laying down in the mud. He has this whole big park filled with dogs!! But he's got to love the mud puddle the most?!

After he was fully in the mud he shot me a look like he won. Maybe he did... but that didn't mean I wasn't the boss anymore! I'm the boss! So I hooked up the leash to his collar and dragged him out of dog park. The dog park crowd was booing with their eyes because I ended the funny show. I had enough tho. He needed to be punished for being bad by being removed from the park. But as we walked past the dog park people I could see Roscoe trotting along all proud. Covered in mud. Nodding to his adoring fans... almost winkingly saying, "Yah sure, maybe I'm being dragged on the leash.... but who's covered in disgusting stinky mud? Me! The winner!"

ok bye!