Not the alpha dog

Since Nate started his job this week, I've been fending for myself for a few days, and I'll be alone all next week too, drowning in a sea of boxes. For those of you who have my number, feel free to prank call me for laughs. I am bored and must be entertained.

While I would normally relish the alone time, I'm shocked at how quiet the apartment can be even with me and 5 animals in it. I've had lots of time to look around, do some thinking, knit some little things, watch tv, and do the occasional bit of packing. I average about two boxes before I say to myself, "whew! there, I packed today" and call it quits.

Some things I've discovered about myself are a little shocking too. Like my complete inability to feed myself. Since I have such an awesome cook around all the time, I usually get a nice dinner made for me. When left to my own devices I rely on frozen waffles, atomic fireballs, and beer. When did this happen to me? I used to call myself independent! I needed no man to feed me!
Now I can't even bother to open a lousy can of soup? What the hell is going on? Either extreme laziness or a ridiculous level of "spoiled absolutely rotten".

And also, my dog is no longer my own. He was a birthday gift from my ex-husband before we got married (never a good idea, by the way. dogs as gifts. just don't.) and I have always been the alpha dog because I trained him and took care of him, and well, because I was cool like that.

But somehow, the power has shifted. Nate is now the alpha dog. And in his absence, I can't even get the damn dog to sit so I can put his leash on him. "Hello! McFly! I am the mom here, I am the alpha dog, and you will do what I say!" And what do I get in response? A woof and a spin and a lot of tail wagging. My appreciation for his cute puppy dog attitude is waning. Now I'm just the one he runs to when the vacuum cleaner comes out. Or it's thundering outside. Or when Nate says the dread "B" word (bath!). Stupid dog.

I have plans for him though. Next week will be doggie boot camp, led by yours truly. No more messing around. No more treats. Just good old fashioned retraining. And a lot of "I am the boss of you, now go lay down and junk".

Also, for those of you interested, it was 100 degrees today with 70% humidity. I may never go outside again.