Lose the clothes, booties — treat your dog like the dog he is

Are you crazy about your pooch? If so, make this your New Year's resolution: I'm going to get sane about my dog. I'm going to let my dog be a dog. I'm going to treat him like the dog he is, so I can be a good pet owner with a good dog.

Just before Thanksgiving, a woman called me and asked for my help with her dog. He was both dog- and people-aggressive; he wasn't socialized properly and suffered from fear aggression. I made this diagnosis on my first visit and agreed to work with the little guy to solve the problems. The last thing I said to this woman on my way out that day was, "Make sure you keep him away from other animals until I've had a chance to work with him more."

"OK, OK," she said, waving me out the door.

About a week after Thanksgiving, she called to schedule a training session. "You're gonna hate me," she said.

"Why?"

"My daughter brought her dog over and my dog attacked him."

"Why did you let your daughter bring her dog over when I asked you to keep your dog away from other animals for the time being?"

"It was Thanksgiving!"

For all those out there wondering whether dogs celebrate Thanksgiving: They don't.

Oh, but there's more:

"But that's not the worst part," she said. "Now my husband wants to know if that means the granddog can't come over anymore."

Hmmm. For some reason, my computer doesn't recognize the word "granddog." It thinks I've made an error and suggests either "grand dog" or "granddad" to fix it. Isn't it funny that "granddad, "grandma," "grandson," "granddaughter," "grandniece," "grandnephew" and even "grandpa-in-law" and "great-granduncle" all register? But no "granddog." It's enough to make you wonder whether there is such a word ... or such a thing.

Here's the truth about Princess: She's not your baby or your lover or your partner or your spouse or your granddog. She may be your "best friend," but you should also have friends whom you will never, ever catch sniffing stool. Therein lies the grand difference.