Duh! Winning!

That would be the puppy, not me. This horrible little shitball has undergone a huge transformation ever since he got shaved. Think Jennifer Jason Leigh in Single White Female. He went from being so well behaved with his potty training to literally dropping his dueces wherever they may fall. He is also what I always feared and why I've never had a little dog until now - He is a yapper. The WORST kind of yapper - the one who thinks he's actually talking to you, when really you just want to kick his little stinky ass across the room (I haven't and I wouldn't, I'm just making a point. Don't anyone try going all PETA on my ass - I promise you, they already know ALL about me.)

I am trying the kenneling. I am trying the "positive behavior reinforcement" (which is really just a bunch of bullshit about giving them treats when they are good and ignoring them when they are bad). I have tried the very low stern "No." I have tried clapping (which makes me look like a retarded clown). I have tried shaking a jar of pennies. This scares Ginger, but just makes Pups move out of my reach and keep barking at me. I even let Jay use his mean caveman spanking and shaming method on him (which he swears worked on Ginger and probably also on our kids, but I choose not to remember that). Nothing.

I saw an ad for a bark collar that is scent activated. Somehow when they bark, the collar releases an 'unpleasant' scent that trains the dog not to bark. I fail to even slightly comprehend how this could work. My dog eats his own poop. HE EATS POOP. I can't even FATHOM a smell worse than that, but he's willing to get right up to it and chomp it up like manna from heaven, so what the hell kind of scent could POSSIBLY waft from his collar to deter his barking? Once you eat poop, does there even exist any smell that would wrinkle your little nose? What the heck could he POSSIBLY turn his nose up at after that? If it was Jay I was trying to train (and don't think I haven't considered this) it would be easy to place the spearmint scent of toothpaste in his collar. He'd do my bidding within seconds. The dog, unfortunately, has nothing to fear. I, however, have plenty, as I narrowly escape another ill-placed retchid pile while trying to answer the door before they howling of the hounds of hell begins.