As I sit down to write this, I have just come inside from hand-shoveling our sidewalk and driveway. Not that there's anything wrong with the snowblower, but I needed to work off some steam.
I love The Bulldog. I really do. But there are times where I would like to trade him in for a spaniel. Or maybe a greyhound. Something not dog-aggressive. My right arm was already sore from all the shoveling I've already done this weekend, plus a few hours today of trying to teach The Bulldog to play with a stick. (Fetch is a long way off, but at least now when we play chase he bites the stick instead of my clothes.)
I'd had some good luck the past few times getting The Bulldog to avoid other dogs by working on "Let's Go!" "Let's Go!" consists of making an abrupt 180 degree turn while exclaiming "Let's go!" in a loud, happy voice and waving a treat in front of his face. Often followed up with "pup pup pup pup!" and running, even on snow. Tonight he would not be swayed from barking and lunging at the dog across the street, on the way out and on the way back as well. Apparently we were both walking mirrored routes.
With his snow booties on and with new snow on the ground, I was able to sort of slide-drag him after me even though he wasn't listening to me, but it's embarrassing as well as hard on my back and arms. He's just plain stronger than I am now. We're starting a "fiesty fido" class next month for dog-aggressive dogs, but I'm so tired. And we still keep putting off working on introducing him and the cats. My work situation is completely precarious and I just can't handle any more stress.
It's a good thing for him he's so cute.