Rick and Snoopy
We had a dog named Snoopy who wasn’t the brightest mutt around, but he loved us and was a great companion. One big problem Snoopy had was his addiction to anything flapping on the clothesline. I don’t know the times Mom yelled at him for chewing the corners of sheets, towels or pant legs. Flapping sheets were, to this dog, like a red flag to a bull. He just couldn’t help himself. But my ingenious dad finally broke him.
His final sheet-rending day was a Sunday after we went off to church, forgetting about the set of sheets hanging right out there on the line, just waiting for an eager flap-crazy dog to grab. Sure enough, the sheets flapped, the dog chewed, and the mother went crazy. When we got home, the sheets were just shreds, tattered beyond recognition. To say Mom was done is an understatement. She was ready to shoot him, regardless of what we kids thought.
Dad decided yelling was doing no good and it was time to try a little psychology. He proceeded to remove what was left of the sheet, finished tearing the strips the dog had started, place them in a pile, pick up the dog, calmly sit down on the ground and start tying bows all over the poor animal. Snoopy had no idea what he was up to and just sat peacefully in his lap, enjoying the attention. Soon Snoopy was covered, head to toe, with ribbons of pink flowered cotton.
Dad then put him on a leash tied to the clothesline pole and called all of us out to the back yard. We were instructed to walk past the dog, point at him, laugh and carry on…to shame him basically. Then for the next several hours, any time we came near him, we were to do it again. And we were not allowed to love or pet on him. We thought it was a mean thing to do, but Dad said, no, it would be mean to let Mom beat him to death, so considering the lesser of two evils, we did as we were told.
After an afternoon of humiliation, Dad untied poor Snoopy, took off all his rags and let him go. He shot right under the back porch and stayed there for a couple of hours. When he came out again, all was right in his doggy world. Randy and I had a bet on how quickly he would forget his punishment…but he never did. He never touched anything hanging on the line again. Dad was way ahead of the dog shakers of today
Thesignpaintersdaughter 