On a Scale from Idiot to Complete Jerk by Alison Hughes Page B

confidently opens the gate and walks right in. Rosie skips the growl and heads straight into deafening barking while she gallops straight at Jake. Jake moves pretty quickly, let me tell you. He gets out and we shut and lock the gate just before Rosie slams into it from the other side.
    When it’s Elizabeth’s turn, she makes me and Jake cross the street so we won’t “crowd” Rosie. “You need to understand her,” Elizabeth says, picking up the flyer that Jake dropped. We hear her talking to Rosie gently in this singsongy voice. “Who’s a good girl, Rosie? Are you a good girl? Nice dog. Nice dog…” She lays a hand on the gate, and Rosie lumbers to her feet, growling and with hackles raised.
    Rosie’s owner, a tiny old lady, finally opens the door. She snaps, “Rosie! Sit!” and Rosie, with an adoring look, sits, her tail thumping happily. The lady turns to us. “Sorry, kids. She’s so protective. But she’s just a big pup, really.” She pats Rosie, who rolls onto her back, closes her eyes and drools happily.
    Conclusions: Rosie is not a jerk. This sort of surprised me. I thought at the beginning of this case study that she might be. She’s a monster. She’s scary. She freaks out easily. But she’s just protecting her house and her tiny old lady. The old lady isn’t even a jerk. She clearly didn’t train Rosie to be all aggressive. It’s something Rosie must have figured out for herself in her little dog brain.
    No way, no how am I ever delivering a flyer at Rosie’s house.
    CASE STUDY #12
The Four-Pound Ankle-Biter
    Subject: Peaches, a tiny white dog with a ponytail tied on the top of her head with a pink ribbon
    Laboratory: My house
    Experiment: My mom has a friend from work named Sheila. Sheila doesn’t have kids or anything. She just has Peaches. She and Peaches were over after school one day when Joe and I came home.
    Now, Peaches is adorable and tiny. Her paws are the size of quarters, and she has very silky fur and a tiny pink tongue. My brother and I love dogs, so we were kind of excited. Here’s how it went.
    Observations:
    JOE . Awww, she’s so cute. ( Drops down onto his knees, holding out his hand .)
    PEACHES . RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR! ( This bark is very quick and aggressive and it goes on and on. There’re only so many times you can type RAR. )
    SHEILA . Peaches! Baby girl, calm down, sweetie! ( She dives for the dog, just as it lunges at Joe’s hand, and grabs Peaches by her pink studded collar. ) She just gets excited with people she doesn’t know. Wants to give them smoochies. Doesn’t she? Doesn’t my little one? ( Struggles to hold her. )
    PEACHES . RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR!
    ME ( nervously stepping away from Peaches, who has slipped out of Sheila’s cuddle and who starts jumping as high as my head while snapping her tiny jaws ). Whoa, hey, down, girl!
    SHEILA . Sweet pea, down , love.
    PEACHES . RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR-RAR!
    ME . Wow, she’s little but she sure is… AAAAAAHHHHHH!
    The “AAAAAAHHHHHH” is me getting bitten on the ankle by some impossibly sharp, tiny teeth. Taking a hit for science is how I look at it. Long story short. Sheila scoops up Peaches and disappears while I bleed on the carpet and Mom hunts for the stuff that stings like crazy but prevents death by dog bite.
    Conclusions: While Peaches sure has some aggression issues and might benefit from a training class or an animal psychologist, if I remain scientifically objective I just can’t call her a jerk.
    Biting my ankle might have been slightly jerkish, but was she deliberately trying to be irritating or annoying or hurtful?
    I don’t think so.
    She was just acting on instinct. She was probably just having her tiny aggro-dog fun. She was just being Peaches. Little dogs can be scarier than big dogs.

    CASE STUDY