My house has felt like a war zone since the moment we brought Miss Priss home from the hospital. Perhaps "war zone" is a little too harsh. More like a furry toddler jealous of his new baby sister. Except this toddler growls. And has really big, sharp teeth.
It started out innocently enough. Eddie (that's the furry toddler in question) would lay on my feet while I was breastfeeding, then jump into my lap once the baby was put down. If the baby could be that close, Eddie wanted to be close, too.
Once Priss started crawling, then walking, and now racing around the house screeching, Eddie insisted on asserting his authorit-i (in the words of South Park's Cartman). 
And he did that by growling.
Sometimes it was a little under-the-breath growl.
Sometimes it was with teeth.
He never bit or nipped. But the growling was enough to make both hubby and I nervous.
What could we do? We didn't know. Up till now, Eddie was a pretty well-behaved dog. Yes, he'd been an only child, hence the jealousy issues. He also disliked children in general. To him, they were all puppies. Puppies that HE had to discipline.
Official plan of attack in Happily-Ever-After-Land on this possibly disastrous problem -- Wait it out and hope he gets over it.
Yeah, in case your wondering, I don't recommend using that one.
For almost two years now we've been living in misery, I had just refused to acknowledge it. My days
were filled with "STOP THAT!," "CUT IT OUT!," and my favorite "OEDIPUS!!!" (Eddie's full name is
Oedipus, the name he was christened with when he was chewing on my engagement ring as we were driving him home from the shelter, a fuzzy little ball of 8-week-old puppy, 5 years ago. But let's not focus on the cuteness, here. We're mad as hell and we're not taking it anymore!)
OK, where was I? Oh, yeah. Eddie's growling had escalated into barking. Basically, he was yelling at Miss Priss. I'd finally hit my limit. I was mad as hell and I wasn't going to take it anymore!
My original thought was that I'd have to give him away. There was a lovely older couple that thought he was the best doggy in the whole world. (Boy did he fool them!) And the best part - they had no kids. But I didn't want to get rid of him. He's our baby! And damn that hubby for leaving me to take care of the dirty work!!!
I had a tearful conversation with my friend ES, dog-mommy to Eddie's girlfriend, Isabel. Thank goodness I talked to her first. "Call a trainer," she told me. "See if it can be fixed before you do anything rash."
So that's what I did. This is no PetSmart trainer, mind you, this dude trains bomb sniffing dogs. This is hard-core sh&t we're talking about here. If this doesn't work - nothing will.
Jim the Trainer came to my home and sat down to talk with me last week. I told him about all our 
problems and how it has escalated. I recounted how jealous Eddie has been and how unhappy we've been because of it. I asked if there was anything that could be done, or if, in a fit of jealous rage, my dog was going to end up eating my baby. "It doesn't help that he looks like dingo!" I said. And after all that listening, Jim summed up his evaluation in one sentence.
"Your dog is a brat."
Oh. My. God. He was absolutely RIGHT!!! And it was in that moment that I finally realized what had happened. I had turned into that type of parent that other people don't want to be around because her child is a terror and gets away with it, and the parent makes lame excuses for this awful behavior instead of doing something about it. My human child had more discipline and consistency then my furry one. How could I let it spiral so far out of control?
We got to work immediately.
My family has been likening Jim to "The Dog Whisperer" as-seen-on-TV. I wouldn't use that description, exactly.
He's more like The Dog Tornado.
In Eddie's eyes, he showed up with no warning, turned his whole world upside down in an instant, and now he's left to figure out how to move on in this post-traumatic existence.
Yep, that sums it up!
We've signed up for the six week course, which means Jim the Dog Tornado comes to our home once a week for the next six and gives me tips and techniques on how to become the master in my own home again.
"He thinks he's in charge of the house," Jim explained. "We have to show him that he's not. That you and the baby rank above him in the hierarchy."
And boy, have we ever! Eddie now wears a leash 24/7. This allows me to discipline him IMMEDIATELY when he does anything I don't like. If he looks at me cross-eyed, he gets a little jerk on the leash.
And we had to reinstate the crate. Eddie has always hated the crate. We NEVER used it as punishment and had him in there every night as a puppy. Nevertheless, it was not considered a "comfy home" to him. It felt like prison. Well he's violated parole, and now he's headed back. He's been confined periodically to the crate for a week now, and when I looked inside it today, there were seven little scratch marks on the wall. And what looked like the beginnings of a shiv made out of a rubber Kong toy under his blanket.
The days may have been rough on Eddie, but they've been wonderful for us.
No more growling. Every so often he tries to sneak one in under his breath, but I'm there in an instant, leash in hand. Miss Priss has even gotten her hands on Ed-pie's fav toy without incident. That's progress! And he's so much better when people come to the door. He wants to jump, but he can't. I've got his leash!
"But will he be happy?" I asked Jim the Dog Tornado. "I mean, I know WE will be happier without the growling. But would Eddie be happier in a home without kids? Am I just making him miserable?"
Jim the Dog Tornado laughed at me in that maniacal laugh he likes to use when he talks about being the "Supreme Being" in your home.
"You're humanizing him too much.
He's a DOG!"
Oh, well, yeah, I have to remember that.
