Wednesday, September 3, 2008


Seriously, Tim and I do not argue much. We just don't. It's not to say that we don't disagree. We do. He says what he thinks, and I say what I think, and usually it gets resolved fairly quickly. Tim is a quiet person. I'm a talker. It always amazes me that people think that I wear the pants in the family. If I'm running the show, it seems to me that I'd get my way a lot more than I do. Tim is pretty bull-headed for a quiet guy. That's one of the things that people don't realize about him.
Well, last night, Tim stopped up to his parents' place. His father's got a automatic window not working, and Tim went up to take the panel off the door and replace the motor. He had stopped home to pick up some tools first and to let the dog out.
I came home to the empty house, all agog about my discoveries of the day, and began to tap out the column while charging the batteries for the camera, intending to drive back out for the picture of the 'Vote Right' sign, after I had fed my husband supper.
Tim hit the door and man, he was not a happy man. It took me a minute to notice, because I was talking. (I'm a talker...I may not have mentioned that). In the middle of a sentence, I got a glimpse of Tim's face, and my soliloquy trailed off. 'What's the matter with you?' I asked. 'Where's the dog's collar?' 'Gees. I don't know. (He only wears a collar when he wears a leash. It's dangerous for a dog to be running about the woods with a collar on. My grandpa's dog chased an animal under a piece of farm equipment, and his collar trapped him there for several days. My grandpa discovered Pard and brought him home and nursed him back to good health. Even though I am not a farmer, my dog just doesn't wear a collar much). Anyways, back to the drama at hand. I say, "Why? What's he done?" "The big baby doesn't even go outside for me." Explaining 'that 'the big baby' is very nervous around him because he doesn't like the poor animal, and the dog can surely tell' is a waste of time. We've had this discussion before. It doesn't do any good. Tim is not a dog person. Buck is a stray, abused, probably by a man, mistrusting. I have his trust, and he is a very good dog, probably the best dog I ever had. Anyways, back to the drama at hand. So, I say to Tim, 'What are you mad about? He doesn't have accidents in the house. If he's afraid to go outside for you, what does it matter?' Tim says, 'So you're going to just baby him and let him stay inside all day? He needs to go outside. I'm going to start tying him out during the day.' I said, 'You are not. He's not hurting anything in the house, and he's never been tied out. I'm not budging on that. YOU WILL NOT TIE THAT DOG OUT!' And Tim bellowed, "He's tied out." I said, "No he won't be." And the next thing you know, we were nose to nose bellowing back and forth. "Yes he is." and "By God you will NOT!" "Yes, I will!" "No you won't." and back and forth it went, both of us mad as hell, and yelling at the top of our lungs. Probably about the tenth time, I just burst into giggles. He looked at me surprised. I told him that we sounded like kids. I told him that it was his own fault that the dog was afraid of him, and was afraid to go out for him. I told him that until he took the time to be patient with the dog, he was never going to get him to do what he wanted him to do, and that he had no one to blame but himself if the dog would not listen to him. I also told him to leave my dog alone and that I would put him out when I got home.
Marriage is a funny thing. I've got a good one, but it always is kind of shocking to me when we fight. As always, by the time supper was on the table, we sat down, heavy in discussions about the sign, how the article would be done, what to do if we were confronted while taking the picture, etc. The topic of the dog was done. Buck padded after me for the rest of the night, casting wary glances at Tim. Tim won't tie the dog out. It's one of those things that I am not going to budge on. He knows it. Tim's got his own 'no compromise' zones. We avoid those areas out of respect for each other and our marriage.
The collar was right where it's supposed to be. In the exact same place it always is. Well. It used to be anyways. This morning, I hid it. Just to make sure that Tim understands this is one of those things that I am not going to budge on.


Mary Paddock said...

Oooh. That is a familiar argument. In my case, my husband started letting the dogs outside to run loose, even after we'd had several arguments about why it was dangerous to do so (His parents let their dogs do this. The fact that none of them lived to see old age seemed beside the point). We walk ours on leashes and let them outside to play while supervised, but he sees them as deprived (live free, die young etc). I found out about this bit of sneakiness because two of them rolled in something dead one day and he went off to work unaware (?) of it. The clean up was not fun (dogs, furniture, kids, bedding, floors) and what was worse, he put the kids in the position of having to tell me what he'd been doing (They felt caught in the middle). The resulting scene was a bit like yours. This has not happened again.

Scotty said...

I had an argument with myself the other day - it was all about who got to sleep on which side of the bed.

Yep, that's the worst I have to endure at the moment.


Pencil Writer said...

Scotty, Classic! Best argument data I've heard in a long time!

Lavinia said...

Oh dear. I think you are right, you know. It's your dog and you love him and you know best and that is that.

I live with a non dog person too, but as I told my dad prior to his moving in with us, "if you can't handle a dog in the house ---who has accidents---then don't bother moving in. And if you do move in, I am not going to tolerate even one complaint about my dog!"

Well of course he does complain, but I just cut him right off. My love for Beba does NOT get compromised...

Mikey said...

Lol, I think you two fight just perfectly. Seems healthy to me!