It’s not flirting when you hit me in the nose. Hard.

I took Muttola to do her temperament test at the doggie day care last night. Basically they want to be sure that she won’t kill any other dogs or vice versa. As you can see in the photo below, there are two sections the dogs play in. They have tunnels, toys, and each other for entertainment, as well as two human workers.


Normally Jada is very excited to meet other dogs and seems to do fine. As soon as we stepped into Charm City Dogs, the other dogs started barking. She started trembling. I’ve never seen her shake in fear before and I got a little nervous. What happens if she can’t do dog day care? Will I be the designated failed dog mother? The owner was very cool and gave her a chance adjust to him and to the place. They closed the other dogs into the big area in back and let Jada explore the hallway. Then we went into the little area in front where they could close the gates and let her explore. One by one they let in the other dogs, starting with the calmest ones. For a long time Jada kept hiding behind my legs and running away any time the dogs tried to sniff her. Eventually she settled down with the two quieter dogs and started to notice there were toys on the ground. Then they let in Kaia, the alpha dog (Kaia’s Dad is the owner). Kaia stood and stared Jada down. Jada did everything in her power to avoid The Look. She went behind the bench, behind me, or pretended she was VERY busy with toys and couldn’t possibly take time to notice the Boxer with the Stare. It took a while but she finally accepted a crotch sniff and the look from She Who Must Be Obeyed. Then they let the dogs out. Woof. Woof. Woof. Slap!

The three remaining dogs were high energy and big. One of them was a puppy mill dog named Homer. Homer is a male, which means he’s aggressive. He’s a puppy mill dog, which means he’s stupid. (‘Puppy mills’ crank out badly bred dogs for sale at pet stores and via the internet. “He’s a puppy mill dog” is said in the same tone as, “He was a fetal alcohol baby”.) He’s a boxer, which means his method for getting to know you is to hit you. Hard. On the nose. Jada did not approve. At first she repeated her running away routine. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So then she snarled and snapped at him, “Get AWAY from me, idiot, or I’ll bite off your family jewels and shove them where the sun don’t shine!” He looked confused and sat down abruptly. I didn’t know she had it in her! Go Jada. Get the big boys.

It’s confirmed. I’m going to be such a bad mother. “Now, dear, you should try talking things out rather than resorting to fighting . . . but did you win?”