Front-running dog set on ruling the world, for treats

My dog thinks he's Donald Trump.

For starters, he's loud, very loud. He runs around the perimeter of our secure border fence and barks belligerently at everyone and everything. They're all dire threats, people, kids, other dogs, birds, bikes, etc. Making our yard great again, in Scuttle's mind, means chasing them all away.

We can't understand what he's saying. It makes no sense. And yet, I can't shake the feeling that Scuttle is telling it like it is, speaking hard truths. 'Be afraid, fleshy fur-less losers!” Or something like that.

Our neighbors have spoken openly about moving to Canada.

His poll numbers should be dropping. His approval rating should be low. He refuses to follow the rules of civilized society. He pursues dangerous policies. He kills rabbits.

The other day, Scuttle stole our TV remote and dropped it. Two batteries popped out and he grabbed them in his mouth and ran. With a $500 trip to the emergency vet flashing before my eyes, I swiftly deployed a treat. Only then did he drop the batteries.

So his bad behavior gets rewarded. It's like I've become a lousy role model, or maybe a cable news network. He just sits there, looking smug and satisfied. And, somehow, he becomes even more appealing. He struts around like some sort of doggy despot.

We thought he was a Labrador/coon hound mix. Turns out he's got an authoritarian streak.

On Sunday, the same dog who once had very pricey surgery to remove a swallowed rock from his innards, arrived on the deck with a small, jagged piece of broken flower pot he found in the yard. Unable to quickly find our squirting water bottle of behavior correction, I again reluctantly reached for a treat.

He dropped it and ran off, returning a few minutes later with another piece of the pot. 'More treats, now,” his glare demanded. Suddenly, it occurred to me, Scuttle had just unilaterally negotiated a tough-minded trade deal.

He has no regard for the media or journalists. Sure, he's friendly when he needs something, but shows his teeth at the least bit of honest criticism. You should see what he does to a newspaper.

While writing a recent column, he stole my computer mouse. For a heart-pounding moment, his button-clicking teeth highlighted the entire piece. Just wait until he learns to delete.

And compared to Scuttle, everyone else seems low-energy. He simply will not be contained by conventional restraints. He dashes thought the house like a bull in a china shop, disregarding any and all damage he may cause. He opens gates with his mouth and nose, using them like very small fingers.

This dog wins so often I'm getting sick of all the winning.

The 'establishment” types in our household have huddled repeatedly in an effort to craft a 'stop Scuttle” strategy. Reaching consensus has been tough. Maybe we waited too long. His current momentum appears unstoppable.

Perhaps we could undermine his tough-dog image by disclosing the very fancy diet he eats due to his delicate constitution. How about a bark collar? More water bottles? Or maybe a super PAC.

Truth is, unlike Trump, we love Scuttle, despite his flaws. He's a part of the family. He can be a good boy. When he lies on my lap and sleeps, it's really nice, even though it's clear he's dreaming of world domination.

Of course, we can't let that happen. Think of the rabbits.

l Comments: (319) 398-8452; todd.dorman@thegazette.com