Living with dogs is remarkable experience. They make their presence known in both good and not so good ways that require our attention.

Our oldest dog Tipper is a counter surfer. It is a domestic form of scavenging for food inherited as a survival skill from wolves in the wild. Wild animals are very strategic in hunting for food. In that light, counter surfing is simply an expression of our dog's "Inner Wolf."

From a young puppy, Tipper moved the length of the counter on her hind legs, reaching with her front paws toward the top, achieving only half the distance. While half the distance (to the goal line) is really close in football, it is an impossible span for a puppy. Unfortunately, a little puppy does not have the perceptual or mental capacity to realize that impossibility so it persists with the same resolve of 12 very large men in the CFL.

We were not compelled to intervene on any consistent basis because the food on the counter was totally out of reach. It was kind of cute and of little worry until one day, like when you suddenly realize your children are taller than you, our puppy was large enough to score a piece of thawing meat.

Months of what seemed like humorous and quite stupid persistence were immediately rewarded big time. And like Pavlov's dog, the ringing of the telephone alerts her and her salivary glands to the possibility of food left temporarily unattended.

Hopefully, only an unfortunate but deserving telemarketer has heard a shouted, “HEY, GET OFF” and assumed it was just another typical cold call. I guess we will never know for sure, but perhaps it may explain why we have not heard from some of our friends for awhile.

Of course, the inconsistency with which we absentmindedly leave food for easy pickings only strengthens persistence. If not now, surely later, let’s just keep checking to be sure. It eventually pays off to be consistent when your human parents are not.

Shouting, of course, has little permanent effect. It only sounds like loud barking to a dog loosely interpreted as, “I am higher in the pack pecking order than you are so stay away from my kill if you know what is good for you”.

It is possible to say quite a bit to a dog with just a few short barks. The message, however, is quickly ignored with any lapse in our attention. There has to be some environmental consequence not directly linked to us for any long term effect.

Mouse traps, we thought, that make a loud snapping noise and jump as if alive when hit by a paw would surely deter her. We quickly learned, however, how strategic an animal can be when hunting food even in a kitchen. 

While the mouse traps were visible, Tipper kept her distance from the counter. The change in landscape was apparently sufficient to set off some instinctual alarm.

I had not anticipated such as easy solution to the problem. Easy but insufficient. Mouse traps on a counter are not typically part of designer kitchen décor. They also have implications quite likely to suppress the appetites of dinner guests.

I am prone to leaving t-towels lying about on the counter as I have been reminded on occasion. They made a convenient natural landscape under which to conceal the mouse traps. I placed food directly behind them and observed from around a corner.

Tipper cautiously approached the counter, jumped up on her back legs, and with the care of a minesweeper, single-mindedly snaked her paw through the towels without disturbing them. She nudged the food until she could snatch it in her jaws.

Whether she sensed the presence of the mouse traps or she was simply did not want to leave an environmental "footprint" as evidence of her thievery, I can only conjecture. I know that I momentarily considered returning her to the wild.

I will avoid saying much about my efforts to use the same mouse traps to get our younger dog to stay off the furniture. Suffice it to say, she thought they were swell chew toys left on the furniture for her convenience.

I am no further along in correcting these annoyances than developing a sense of humour about them. It has been said that we can choose to redefine success in the face of what might otherwise be considered a clear failure. A laugh should be considered a successful outcome. I see that I could be successful at many things.

© C O P Y R I G H T   2 0 0 9.  Gary Holdgrafer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.