The monkey made me do it

Those Silly Monkey games

We ventured back to the offleash park for the first time on Saturday, and besides a newfound fear of bigger dogs (she actually hid behind me at one point, which has never happened before) that faded with time, she seems to be doing all right. She even played a little bit with a beagle by the end of our trip, which I consider to be a good sign since Beagles are uniformly ear-splitting when happy and if she can take that abuse, there's hope for the rest of doggy-kind.

But what I really wanted to talk about is the Monkey self-entertainment that has developed over the 4 years I've had the privilege of observing her.

The Monkey Invisibility Cloak
In her little canine walnut-brain, Monkey becomes completely invisible in three easy steps:
1. Lay down VERY flat
2. Put your ears flat against your head
3. Hold your breath (she does this, honest)
She likes to do this on trails where other dogs have obviously seen her coming from 50 feet away. She will drop to the ground in the middle of the path, eyes fixed on her prey, and wait for the confused dog to come within 10 feet of her. Then she will bounce up in the air and lunge for their heads, sometimes growling comically and twisting around in mid-air. The other dogs can see her lay down, some of them stop in their tracks immediately and I have to explain to their owners that she's not really going to attack their precious pet, she just is playing a game with them. You know, the hide in plain view and then spring up like a Jack-in-the-box game. I get many strange looks. Monkey gets many pissed-off dogs that don't like to have their heads pounced on. Still, this is her favorite game! I've taken to yelling at her "YOU'RE NOT INVISIBLE! I SEE YOU!" whenever she goes into the stance, and that makes her get back up again while giving me the dirtiest of Monkey-looks.

The "My Ass Is A Weapon" Game
Monkey is very fast, and very playful - particularly when the other dog is slow and stupid. She will fly around the dog park, ears back and grinning, and then when she finds a target (these are usually the Labs, the poor big lugs) she'll circle by them, plant her front paws, and curl her spine so that her hindquarters become airborne and thwack the unsuspecting dog with the full force of her momentum and 50-pound heinie. Then before it realizes what has happened, she takes off in the opposite direction, flying with an even bigger doggie-smile.

Monkey Smackdown
This is the game that I dread. Why? Imagine this: You have a tough-looking dog with muscles and Doberman-ish ears. She is strong and agile and scary. She has frightened landlords and children for years.
Now imagine that dog laying flat on her back with her head flopping on the ground, tongue lolling, pretending to be pinned by a Chihuahua, who is ecstatic that it has finally found someone that it can beat at wrestling.
Monkey has no pride.
She should audition for the WWF (WWE, any of 'em) though. She'll start wrestling with the tiniest of dogs, carefully spinning around and pretending to pin them a couple of times. Then she'll throw the fight, dramatically falling over on her side and twisting under the little dog in mock defeat. I stand there with face in hand, long having given up on trying to cheer her to victory, and try and pretend that another dog is mine.

posted by LadyJay @ 10:04 AM