leader of the pack

My two loving, adorable, cuddly dogs suffer from the condition of selective hearing.

That is I’m-in-denial code for they just don’t listen.

Now, this is not always the case. You tell Ziggy to sit, and the boy sits.

You tell Ziggy he’s being a good boy and Lola comes running (diva, much?).

However, when they’re in backyard play-mode, it’s like their ears have been clogged up with cotton balls.

Or fallen off.

They just don’t freakin’ listen.

I can yell, for minutes on end, promising them treats, belly rubs, life-long best-friendship,

and they are too preoccupied by whatever bird, blade of grass, ant, tennis ball or, in yesterday’s case, rogue corn cob, to even nod in my direction.

Punks.

Well, in my frustration, there have been times when I’ve had to drag the crying baby out of her bouncy seat to comfort her as I’m trying to wrangle my furry little rebels. And, you know what? That is all it takes for them to come-a-runnin’.

If they hear one measly “Wah” from their baby sister, it’s like someone lit a fire under them, and they’re racing across the yard and up the steps to the back door.

Anytime she cries, they come running, to try to calm her with gentle, pink-tongued toe licks.

Yes,  I let my dogs lick the baby’s toes.

Yes, I know what they eat.

Yes, I know that they have drooly dog mouths.

But hey, it’s not like she can lick her own toes, so I think we’re all good.

Anyway, as long as she’s around, they will suddenly regain their keen canine hearing and come to us, tails wagging behind them.

I guess there’s a new alpha dog in town.

Cutest alpha dog ever.

And, the best part is, now that the dogs have shown me their hands,

uhhh, you know, paws, so to speak,

I have got them at their own game.

So, what do I do, you ask?

When I want them to listen to me,

and to come inside when I call them,

I fake cry.

I full-on do a baby “wahh wahh wahh”.

And guess what?

They come dutifully a-runnin’.

Guess the last laugh is on them, right?

Perhaps.

Although,  some could argue that the last laugh is on the grown woman who stands in PJs at the back door, crying like a baby.

Well, do you know what I say to that?

“wahhhhhhh”