i love cesar millan.

for those who aren’t familiar with his work, cesar rehabilitates the untrainable dog, and teaches the owners how to behave as the pack leader. i have a great respect for this ability, having at one time owned the devil’s spawn (also known as our golden retriever 2 month old puppy, charlie. “aw isn’t he cute. but why is he ripping my arm to shreds?!” and “no ma’am, i’m not suicidal. it’s just, my puppy, he eats me.”). we worked with said devil for months, our young, innocent marriage on the rocks because of a golden ball of fur. finally we broke through with the help of my cousin the vet, and WE were the masters of our house. now he is a wonderful, loving, shedding pile of mush…minus one irritating attribute.

our dog charlie loves going to the park and chasing a tennis ball thrown from our chuck it. if he could talk, he would definitely proclaim from the bottom of his heart it’s his favorite activity in the world. why is this irritating, and what does this have to do with cesar? well, i’ll tell you.

he absolutely refuses to give the ball up once he’s chased it down. it’s like we’ve become the devil, and he must protect the world (ball) from the grasp of the devil. even though all we want to do with the ball once we get it is to throw it for him again.

see? irritating. it actually gets to the point where we’re trying to get the ball away from him and it appears as if we’re physically hurting him (we’re not of course, although we contemplate it heavily some days). it’s gotten more frustrating as taking charlie to the park has become the only reliable item on my list of things to-do in a day.

we’ve tried everything we can think of to solve the issue, all to no avail. we tried treats to distract him, and he spit them out. two balls only meant he ran with one in his mouth to get to the other, having no idea how to carry both back, but not letting us touch either. we have tried multiple commands, each pissing him off more than the next. crying, pleading, ignoring: nothing, nada, nilch.

we NEED cesar. he would know what to do. he would sweep in and like the canine zen-master he is, he would fix the issue. the end. happy family. the only issue is, i don’t think he’d come to our house. charlie is an extremely well-adjusted dog, and for tv, that’s just not sexy. if anything we might get the crap 4 minute spot at the end of the show, after cesar has tamed the beast who nearly ate a child last year; the segment no one pays attention to because they are using that time to pee and pay their taxes. and you know what? i’m superficial enough to care about that.

i’m not going to admit to being incompetent on national television if i’m not going to be in the spotlight.

so here we are, with no clue what to do with the dog, no 15 (or 4) minutes of fame, and no cesar. i think i may just need to teach charlie how to eat a child.