When the Terror Is Tiny

Matilda v Cupcake

My dog is out of control.

Each day I leave, she gets a Kong filled with frozen treats. This keeps her busy while I make my escape. Recently, she got her Kong stuck under the couch and as soon as I arrived home, she was at the couch in downward dog, barking for me to retrieve it.

I got down on hands and knees to take a look, but clearly not fast enough as within moments I had a paw pummeling my face and head. She jumped on me with considerable force considering her eight pound frame.

This abuse generally continues as we attempt to live together peacefully.

If I take her out for a walk and start chatting with someone, she barks because she thinks they should be talking to her.

If someone hugs me, she barks and pushes them.

She goes through my purse and has been rewarded with gum, candy and a delicious lemon cupcake that she located and deboxed within the two minutes it took for me to use the bathroom.

She pulls brand new clothes out of shopping bags, freeshly cleaned clothes out of the laundry basket. And once when I was getting ready for a date, she peed on the outfit I’d layed out.

One Sunday, she starting nipping my ankles as soon as I walked in. Granted, I’d slept away from home all weekend. But still. Who is she to discipline me?

One weekend, she met her match — Matilda, a German wirehaired pointer.

We were visiting friends upstate and Cupcake did her normal diva routine — jumping up so that her public can stroke and adore her. Well she jumped on Matilda’s dad and Matilda wasn’t having it and started growling. Cupcake growled back and it was on. Matilda promptly snapped at Cupcake, scaring her her so bad that she yelped and quickly skittled across the room, begging to be picked up.

For the rest of the night, Cupcake was glued to me and squeezed her way into the chair right beside, putting on her best angel routine.

Matilda made the rounds, intently glancing at Cupcake throughout the evening, daring her to get out of line again.

Clearly, Cupcake has met her match. Next time she acts up at home, I’m calling Matilda.