Electrocution is not fun.
I hate barking dogs.
I HATE them.
I hate the sound of a barking dog more than I hate the fact that I can still fit into the seat of a grocery store carriage.
...damn...little-body genetics. DAMN YOU TO HELL!
Anyway, the knowledge that I can't stand barking dogs came into excruciating clarity when I got my own dog from the rescue league about 10 years ago.
That little bitch was a barker.
She barked at other dogs. She barked at people walking by. She barked at cars.
This really sucked because we let her out the front door of our house, where we had a 20-foot length of rope attached to her leash. When she had to go to the bathroom, we simply let her out the front door where two things would happen:
1) She would begin destroying my front lawn with dog ju-ju
2) She would bark
We decided to take her to obedience classes to try to tame her and get her used to other dogs in an effort to get her to stop barking.
This did NOT work.
My dog is an 18-pound Chihuahua-mini-dobi mutt thing, who apparently cannot be in a room, or around, any other living being.
If she is in said area with something that has a pulse, she has the need to bark at it.
The instructor invariably lent us “the collar.”
“The collar” consisted of a large leather collar, with a box attached to it the size of a cell phone. The box had two metal studs that went through the collar.
Sound activated a mechanism in the box that would send electricity through the leads, effectively electrocuting my dog and shutting her the f*ck up.
It sounded like a good idea at the time.
The problem is that this basically works the first few times. We let the dog out, and – invariably – someone or something would go by.
When that happened…we’d hear this:
“RUFF RUFF YELP!”
It was mean, I know. But it worked.
The problem is that it worked TOO well.
It worked SO well that my dog, in her infinite wisdom, decided it was much better to p*ss and sh*t all over the house instead of running the risk of dying by electric shock.
...dogs aren't as stupid as we think sometimes...
So, my grand idea to shut my dog up turned into her rendering vengeance on me in the form of continual carpet cleaning.
I called up the obedience instructor, who thought that maybe the device was turned up too high for a dog that small. So he came over to tune the thing.
He made some adjustments, and figured we’d be all set.
But…as is my lot in life…I was curious.
We’re standing in my living room, which was 14 feet x 24 feet, and we’re at the front door, which is in the corner of the room.
I’m holding the collar in my hand.
“How much of a shock is it?” I asked him.
“Not bad,” he said. “Just enough to make her uncomfortable.”
I look at the collar in my hand.
“..woof..” I say to the collar.
I say it again, “WOOF!”
Now, if you’ve ever seen The Green Mile, then the scene where the little guy gets executed in the chair is pretty much what I was feeling right then.
This shock…no…this ELECRIFYING JOLT…goes shooting into my hand, through my arm and into my skull.
It only lasted ¼ of a second, but I think I actually peed myself a little. You could have taken out a rhinoceros with that thing…
In a completely reflexive reaction from this electrocution, my arm goes flying out.
The collar goes shooting out of my hand, 24 feet, and smashes into the wall on the other side of the room.
My wife is looking at me, shaking her head an laughing at what a total stupid ass I am.
I look at the guy…still shaking...
...a nice, fresh shart in my underwear...
“WHAT THE F*CK?! Are you trying to kill me?”
He looks at me and says:
“Well…um…you’re not supposed to test it on yourself.”
Wish he would have let me know that on my FIRST bark attempt.
I look down at my dog, all 18 pounds of her, and hand the collar back to the guy (which is probably now useless, based on the fact that I just chucked it straight into a wall). There’s no way in Hell I can possibly, with a good conscience, do this to my dog on purpose.
So now the little sh*t ruins my backyard instead…and she still barks.
…maybe I should call that guy back.