MELLIPOP AND THE WAR ON TERRIERS
OK, so Mellipop regulars on-line and in-life know that not a week goes by when I don’t have yet another new exasperated anecdote to share about my two Staffordshire Bull Terriers (aka The Demon Dogs), and the havoc they wreak on my home, my possessions and my dignity.
To be fair, they’ve been rather well-behaved since the unfortunate incident with the next door neighbour’s bunny rabbit at Easter. Just the ubiquitous series of petty pilferings and destruction. Recent playthings include underpants (mine, always bloody mine), wine glasses, the new trees we planted in the backyard and a bit of tupperware, none of which survived the frivolity.
So I thought I’d play a bit of catch-up, to fill in some of the newsworthy blanks left by my self-imposed blogging absence of the past few months.
Long-time friends of Mellipop may remember the troubles we had constructing an appropriate Staffy-proof barricade in our rental property over in North Fremantle. It would be an understatement to say that we have had the same trouble here, in our own house at Quakers Hill.
It’s a story of courage, determination and success against all the odds. (Them)
It is also a story of chaos, destruction and a series of monumental failures. (Us)
In this titanic struggle between man and beast, there has been only one winner:
Bunnings Warehouse.
THE STORY OF THE BARRICADE: PART TWO
So here we have Quakers Hill Version 2.1 of the barricade. It took very little time for the demon dogs to eat or smash through this on their way to freedom. I almost imagine they were laughing at us from the very moment they saw Anton proudly putting the finishing touches to it. Timber is no obstacle to any self-respecting Staffordshire Bull Terrier.
There were actually several "improvements" made on this version of the barricade, with cross supports being added and whatnot - none of which stayed intact long enough for me to photograph them.
Quakers Hill Version 2.2 offered it’s own unique challenges. Having determined that they could neither eat nor headbutt their way through the solid sheet of MDF, the demon dogs instead turned their attention to going over the darn thing, rather than going through it (always a steamrolling Staffie’s first instinct). Despite being incredibly dopey dogs, their unique combination of stubbornness and cunning is an effective one.
So we had peace in the house for a couple of weeks. To be honest, Anton and I were a little cocky. We thought we had finally beaten the little fuckers. But who were we to think that an almost six foot tall, solid wood barricade could possibly stop two obstinate Staffies from getting to the other side?
Naïve, indeed.
Pay careful attention to the height of the barricade, and the height of our fridge. It is about the height of my head (I’m somewhere between 165 and 170 cm tall). My two dogs are about the height of my knees.
So we came home one day, and Comanche was on the wrong side of the barricade. Thinking that I must have locked her in the house before I left, I opened the barricade and went into the kitchen, reuniting her with her younger brother on the other side.
It was then that I noticed the little muddy footprints all over the kitchen counters and walls. The fridge had been moved from the wall, and our large archaic microwave oven (late 1980’s vintage, so roughly the size of a compact car) had been dislodged from the top of the fridge, and was balanced precariously on the edge.
If my powers of deduction had not yet fully confirmed the sequence of events, the footprints behind the microwave were the clincher.
The little fucker had jumped up onto the kitchen counter, then managed to jump on top of the fridge – pushing the microwave forward so as to manouvre behind it - and then jumped right over the barricade, landing on the floor on the other side.
A monumental feat of athleticism, fearlessness and stupidity.
We’d been beaten again.
In Quakers Hill Version 2.3 Anton extended the barricade right up to the ceiling (not pictured...why freakin' bother...they become obsolete faster than new versions of the iPod). We then moved the fridge to another location in the kitchen, where it was duly padlocked to the wall on both sides. Yes, padlocked. It's like living with two insanely powerful mental patients. In a maximum security prison.
The War on Terriers was not yet won, we had already suffered mass casualties and we were fast running out of tactics.
Moving the fridge from near the barricade left the wall completely exposed. The dogs could not get over or through the barricade, which left one final stategy for them to explore.
They started chewing the corner of the kitchen wall.
Our counter-attack was to bolt a sheet of aluminium to the wall, to stop them from chewing the plasterboard. The thin sheet of metal was bolted to the wall in twelve places.
We got home one day and they had somehow managed to rip the sheet of aluminium right off the wall, at which point they then proceeded to rip the metal to shreds.
Just to say ”fuck you”.
Anton and I just stared at each other in shock and bewilderment. The metal looked as though it had been mauled by a shark. There were several shredded pieces of it all over the kitchen, with puncture marks right through the metal from their teeth. They were covered in dry blood.
HOW STUPID ARE THESE DOGS, WHO WILL EAT METAL UNTIL THEIR MOUTHS BLEED?
What fucking chance in hell did we have of putting an end to this escalating madness? What is the Staffordshire Bull Terrier equivalent of kryptonite?
We didn’t know. And still don’t. So we left the sheet of metal off the wall and tried daubing a combination of citronella, curry powder and fresh chilli on the walls. The sheer desperation. The vain hope. The tired resignation.
So what happened next?
THE MOTHERFUCKERS ATE A HOBBIT-SIZED HOLE IN OUR KITCHEN WALL.
Just to say “fuck you”.
I guess when eating through metal until your mouth bleeds is no obstacle, a smattering of spices on the wall is a pathetically lousy deterrent.
And Anton’s counter-offensive? Get thicker steel….
He’s very lucky that I am a patient and forgiving woman, otherwise I would have had the whole lot of them down at the goddamn pound a long time ago.
Seriously. Who’d have a fucking Staffy?
I do love them, though… Little fuckers.
posted by Mel @ 11:59 AM
10 Comments:
Here's an idea!! Why don't you just train your dogs not to do things like that. They think that they own your house and don't care what you do as you haven't trained them. GET THEM TO A DOG TRAINER NOW! It would be cheaper than all this DIY.
Umm...they are in training!
It's actually a separation anxiety issue - quite common with Staffies - and unlike boredom, can't be negated with any number of toys, bones or other distractions during our absence. And we have tried many, many things! Including getting another dog - great solution that one!
Though curiously, we've established that it is our first dog that causes or instigates 99% of the destruction - the same dog that is overly bonded to Anton (she sits at the front door and cries when he takes the goddamn bins out, for chrissake!!).
Most people we have spoken to (trainers, vets, breeders and other professionals) really only offer sedatives as a definitive solution. For obvious reasons, we certainly don't want to medicate our animals on a regular basis, and would rather do the DIY thing as required. Sigh!
It's a matter for a sense of perspective and a sense of humour. Material things can always be repaired or replaced. I know I often make light of all this but Anton and I are very responsible and committed dog owners.
Ha ha we just got stuck with a couple of mental cases!
I guess this begs the obvious question....
Why are they not outside?
I guess that leads to the obvious answer....
Anton still believes they DO NOT belong outside.....
...LMAO...that is one of the funniest things i have read/seen in ages Mellipop.......in the equation you have you really have to wonder who is the smart and the stupid here.......hope your house doesn't depreciate anymore with the continual destruction and patch up jobs :)
Yeah why can't they just be outside? Would they run away or try and escape from the garden? Why not put a muzzel on them while you are out? Are you not worried what they will do when you have kids? What if they attack them?
to the anonymous and semi-anonymous critical commenter(s) - lay off. if mel chooses to portray her dog problems in a humorous way it doesn't entitle you to presume she's somehow an irresponsible dog owner.
sorry mel, i know you don't need defending, but the percentage of dickhead anonymous comments on this blog is pretty riling, and it aint even my blog. keep up the dog entries, they're tops.
Baz - correct!!!
To be fair to Anton, with the whole keeping the dogs outside thing... I was pretty strong in my assertions that they be left outside too. That was until my colleague - who owned a gorgeous two year old Staffy - went home on one of those really stifling 40 degree days and found his poor little pooch dead under a tree. Absolutely devastating. The dog had shelter and plenty of water, but it got so hot he'd spilt it all (or bathed in it in an attempt to stay cool) and died of the heat and dehydration.
In addition to their numerous mental "quirks", it's well documented that Staffy's are very ill-equipped to cope with extremes of heat or cold, because of their thin coat. Ironically, dogs with plenty of fur are better able to deal with extreme temperatures because it insulates them.
Ever since then, I've been OK with them being able to access shelter in the house - at least until we can afford to build a kick-ass concrete shelter for them outside.
Gray - I think it's pretty obvious who the stupid parties are! It was my idea to get the first Staffy, and his to get the second! D'oh!
Anonymous - I've covered part of that above. But in relation to the dogs escaping, I'm not too worried about that as we have very good fencing. I actually wanted to muzzle them - not because I was worried about them attacking anyone, but so they couldn't chew anything! Problem is that it makes it hard for them to drink or eat (stuff that they are allowed to eat, like bones and food)
In terms of the kid question - it's a valid concern but I'm not at all worried about them attacking a child, including my own when I have them. One of the Staffy's better qualities is that they are brilliant with kids - they are actually known as the "babysitter dog" in the UK and constantly score on top of lists as to which breeds are best around children (yeah - we're sad. we research these things a lot!). Especially because they have such an incredibly high pain and irritation threshold that kids can pull their ears, tails etc and rough them around a lot more than some other breeds. To a Staffy, any attention is good attention!
The only thing I'm worried about is their size and strength - it would be easy for them to knock a child over without intending any harm. That's something we'll have to monitor very closely when the time comes.
A friend of ours, who is also a breeder of Staffies, has recently had a child and has had no problems at all - her four dogs love him to bits and are very gentle around him.
And despite being somewhat destructive at home, they have never ever shown any aggression towards humans. I know I make them out to be the spawn of the antichrist, but they actually have really sweet, loving, happy, affectionate natures. It's just that those things are generally not as funny to write about!
Nick - Cheers. We're just about due for another catchup aren't we?
Thanks for the comments guys. I was expecting spam!
I enjoy reading your stories about your dumb but loving doggies - especially since you starting posting pictures documenting their reign of destruction. So glad to hear you've been consulting professionals about the problems.
I reckon the chilli and stuff just made the wall tastier! :P
Though chilli was a good idea and works on most animals I must add.
I know what you are going through with your 2 adorable staffy's we have a staffy that is so beautiful but we cannot keep in our yard. He jumps over our 6ft high fence. We live on the beach and have always got people walking their dogs past and unfortunately he can be quite aggressive towards other males, he doesn't like anyone near his territory. We had a female staffy before him who broke all her teeth off from chewing her way through our hard wood fence. Our little girl had a lovely nature but refused to be fenced in. After 5 years of trying everything to keep her at home, she eventually got taken by the dog sqad and went to another home. Now it seems we are having the same problems with our little boy. Staffy's are the most precious animals yet the most pig headed animals I've ever met.
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