I’m holding my breath… 

I’ve not been on for awhile and surely that’s an excellent thing as I’m only supposed to write when I’m furiously angry at life, the world, my partner… and I haven’t been. 

I mean it’s not perfect, this morning he lied about there being bacon in the fridge as he was ‘tired’ and didn’t want to make me a bacon sandwich… wanker… but then he had been up since 6.30am with the 7 month old and let me sleep in… so not a wanker?!? 

It’s things like this that have me very confused, in one breath he does something wonderful, and a lie in till 8.30am is a wonderful thing (I know, if 21 year old me could see me now, she’d kill me), and then lie about bacon, the swine (Not going to aplogise for that lil’joke).

And I’ve thought about it a lot and while it may sound like I’m generalising, I am not. I’m talking specifically about the men in my life, be it partner, brothers, friends and friend’s partners, we ALL have very similar complaints. So therefore, I have come to the conclusion that my man and the men I know are very much like dogs and should be treated and trained as such. 

Oh christ… I do apologise to everyone as looking at it in black and white it looks horrendous and horribly offensive… BUT my realisation led to a strategy and my startegy is working!!! 

I have a dog, see Silver Linings and we have had him in dog training, which I experienced first hand as the partner was off making big bucks on rigs. So my strategy revolves around this:

1. Positive reinforcement

No shouting, no moaning, no anger. 

Treats are awarded for a job well done. Treats include a ‘well done’, a ‘thank you,’ a blow job, sex depending on the level of work, thoughtfullness and care given to the task. 

Keep thanking them, it doesn’t matter that in your four year relationship you have put a wash load on 2,450 times, if he does it once of his own filition, he is praised, you treat that shit like he just saved a fucking child from a burning building. Just do it. 

2. Repetition is key

There is a fine line here, not repeating the task over and over, this may be construed as nagging and they rebel immediately against that. 

I have found repeating the instruction twice and then getting them to repeat it back to me works well. 

But the real secret is getting them to self correct. This line is golden baby. ‘Babe, what should you be doing right now?’ They get all sheepish and tell me and then do it!!! Amazing!!!

3. Be upfront and honest. 

Our command for Silver when he’s licked, whined, barked gone crazy too much is ‘enough’ and I’ve learnt to communicate this with Life partner. Enough playing on your game, enough buying crap, enough picking your nose, enough. 

Enough laziness, it will break us. I’m back to work soon and working and doing the level of housework and child rearing I’m doing, now if continued will break us. My honesty has been rewarded and I can see my partner actively trying. Hell today it’s like I didn’t have a 7 month old, I lay in, I went to the cinema, did lunch, napped!!! It was glorious and it was because adult number 2 did some actual adulting. And I haven’t stopped praising him since.

So really, number 3, it’s about communication, these men don’t get subtle hints, stoney silence and death stares. They only understand when you explicitly tell them, and only then can they do something about it. And if they love you they will, and if they don’t… well then he truly is a dog and needs to be rehomed. 

I’m really sorry for the offensive nature of my blog today, it’s all in good fun and I know men who bring domestic bliss to their relationship as they are a domestic god… my dad for one… but these are my thoughts on my own situation and my own male counter part so whateves man. Go fetch! 

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Dogs, Dirt and Partners

I’m here to moan, to vent, to be so fucking angry the words will burn holes into the computer/mobile screen. 

So I will sound whiney, bitchy and negative and my partner will be recreated here as a villain, a tool, a jerk, a douche, a moron, a sociopath… all the things I see him as when I lose my shit… when the veil of angry denies me any rational behaviour, any space to step away and see sense. 

This is what my writing, my entries, will be, because if they’re not then my anger is not controlled, it seeps into my real life, my real relationship and it will fester deep within our relationship and it will spoil our relationship. So better off being a whiney bitch here than elsewhere. 

Men are stupid… okay massive generalisation but it seems less hurtful than say my partner is fucking stupid. So I’ll be using the pronoun ‘they’ but really it’s just ‘he’. Sorry men. 

They operate on a totally different level, it’s pouring with rain, our garden is basically a mud bath. Let the dog out… let him in. They see this as their good deed for the day, ‘usually she does it but I’m saving her a job’, glowing sense of achievement, warm feeling of helping. Check. 

Fuck you. I see it as Let the dog out, dog runs around madly, playing in the mud, digging his favourite hole… let him in, let him run through the kitchen, into the hallway and to his food bowl… leaving a clear trail of mud on the floor and carpet that even the most inept dective could follow! I then have to clean said mess as they eat their breakfast, staring at their phone… oblivious to my quiet rage and hints in the form of my polite request that they never ever ever ever ever let the dog out again. That’s my job, not theirs… as so many things are in our house. 

I know deep down in my soul he does things like this, not on purpose, but because he is a lesser person than me, he needs me to survive basically… which is a lie as he survived 28yrs without me… so he did do it on purpose!! I FUCKING KNEW IT!! 

Silver Linings. 

This is a love letter to my hound. Silver… get the title now. I am hilarious and so very clever. 

My anger is taken out on three ‘people’ in my life: my mother, my partner and my dog. And I’m going to take my time and just think of all the positives that my hound brings to my life and then maybe, just maybe, I’ll begin to love him more than my anger makes me hate him in those heat of the moment, angry pits of hell, fire and brimstone I fall into. 

Origins of Silver:

He was bought as we were burgarled, I was in the house and my partner was offshore and felt the distinct helplessness a man gets when something happens to someone he loves and he wasn’t there. Silver was bought for £50 from Gumtree in Yorkshire, we’re pretty sure he’s a staffy rotty cross. 

Playing with fire you might say… 

And I look back and cringe but god help me if it wasn’t the best £50 we’ve spent. He is the best dog. Like seriously. 

So let my positivity in the form of a list commence! 

  1. My dog is handsome, he’s 39kgs of pure muscle and leaness. He’s eyes truly are the windows to the soul. He has won awards. This is not just my opinion. He’s won Most Handsome Dog and Reserve Best in Show… in Telford… okay, in a small village off Telford…. in a very small local dog show… but still, it’s not just me. And to be fair that dog gets more compliments than my very cute (okay, that is all my opinion, and every chuffer on facebook, and my mum’s) 6 month old son, walking down the street. If he understood, he would have a big head. Fact. 
  2. He was bought for protection and he looks and sounds the part. Many a time I’ve opened the door to a delivery man who is now standing on the other side of the gate after hearing the dog bark and launch himself at the door, vibrating the whole house but serving his purpose and protecting his family. 
  3. He is so much more than protection, he is part of our family. He completes my partner’s perfect picture of family life, although that perfect picture surely cannot include the sea of hairs I sweep up every day, every day, every day, every day… no!! Positivity only! Hairs are hairs and once my boy is old enough that’ll be one of his special chores… 
  4. He has the most amazing temperament, he has the patience of a saint with my niece, who is eight, he performs all his ‘tricks’ for her, although I rue the day she taught him ‘paw’! He lies with her acting as a pillow while she watches TV, a true indication of the relationship my son and his best friend, Silver will have. 
  5. I can already see the boy and Silver’s relationship forming. Silver has finally begun to relax around the child and while he does spend a large part of his day trying to lick him to death, they make a really cute duo. The boy gets super duper excited whenever he sees Silver, he chases him in his walker, grabbing fur, ears and collar and Silver sits patiently, wanting nothing but to lick this little boy. Dinner time is The Best!!! I’m shouting at Silver for licking the boy’s hands and waiting for a morsel of food to drop and the boy, staring me straight in the eye, reaches out his hand, full of rusk, to feed the bloody dog! And Silver softly and gently with his mammoth jaws takes the food, not daring to look me in the eye! He knows better! But 6 months old and my son is challenging me and favouring the hound!!!! Oh how they shall be the best of friends. 
  6. Silver goes on runs with me, and sometimes when he thinks I’m in need of an extra effort (and this usually coincides with another dog going past) he stops dead and refuses to move!! Think of my extra work out!! Lifting and pulling a 39kg dog!! What a considerate pooch he is!! 
  7. In a time where life sucked for me, I’d been burgarled while I was in the house asleep, my partner was constantly away on rigs, I had Silver curled up beside me; my protector, my company, my dog. 

Silver, you are family and I’ll try really hard to remember, no matter what you do to fucking piss me off!!!