Training my Monster

I want to be that mommy at Saturday afternoon training. 

You know the one in the twinset and pearls (read: summer dress and flip flops – at training anything other than mud stained jeans is dressy), who stands above her obedient pooch and smiles at you sympathetically while your suddenly deaf puppy tries to gnaw your arm off. 

Yes that bitch – the one who is silently judging you and kindly says ‘all you need to do is put in some quality time’ – bitch speak for ‘you need to practice during the week lady, or your dog will never learn’.

I hate her, but I want to be her.

And I’d be nice about it – I wouldn't make any snide comments – I’d just look at Oscar with eyes filled with love and whisper “you complete me” softly to him, so only he could hear.

Crap – I already do that.

Tx