I had one way of thinking about my dogs before I learned about dog behavior and figured out how to read their body language. Things were beautiful during those carefree, ignorant days. Just a guy and his dog doing what guys and dogs do when they’re together. I loved it all because he loved me. He accepted me for who I was. Then, like the apple off the forbidden tree, I picked up a few books and read them. Then came the seminars and every other bit of information I could get my hands on. Time went by and I got smarter about this dog training thing. The innocent days were long gone. I miss them.
For example, back in the day, Macho would come to me during my morning stretches and lay some wet kisses on me, well he licked me. They don’t actually kiss. This would be followed by his paw on my arm, or leg, or whatever body part was closest to him. He charmed me. It was endearing. I couldn’t help but think, “Damn, this dog loves me. Look at how affectionate he is towards me.”
Then I wised up and I saw the light. It wasn’t good. The light actually hurt my eyes. Suddenly I understood that his “kisses” were nothing more than his way of getting attention. Same with the freakin paw that he would harass me with. It was all designed to get me to rub his chest or belly, his one intent from the beginning. This realization that our relationship was nothing more than a façade and based on false pretenses, that his kisses and paw slaps were just his way of saying, “Yo, hit me up with a belly rub”, hurt me.
Could I have been so blind? Did I really let myself foolishly think there was something there, something real between us? And just like that, once I gave in and rubbed his belly, he moved on. Maybe it was some random shoe on the floor that pulled him away or some bitches ass he wanted to sniff but things were never the same between us. I had grown to know him too well. I could read him like a book.
Bastard. I love him so.