Don't Try to Reason with a Crazy Dog

This morning, Jake and I were out on a walk with our crazy-but-oh-so-lovable-when-you're-not-around dog. Essie has a reputation for being skittish, irritable, overprotective, and just plain nuts. She was edgy this morning because we had to walk past the vet's office. So of course jumped out of her skin as a man - a perfectly normal man, not an ax-wielding drunk, mind you - had the audacity to walk on the narrow sidewalk in our same general vicinity. I didn't see his reaction. I assume he shook it off, didn't read too much into it, and carried on his innocuous way. As it should be. Carry on, dear sir.

But we were reminded of how many times people take our crazy-but-oh-so-lovable-when-you're-not-around dog's melodramatic overreactions personally. "But I'm friendly. I'm a good person. I'm a dog person. Dogs like me. Babies like me. My mom likes me. Why is your dog quivering and slowly backing away as I approach you with an outstretched hand full of bacon? Maybe I'm not such a good person. Maybe I'm not friendly. Maybe dogs don't like me. Or babies. Or my mom. And why should they? I'm such a horrible person...No one could ever love me."

Don't let a crazy dog dictate your self-esteem. And never, ever, ever try to reason with a crazy dog. Trust me, you almost always lose.