I got an email the other day from someone asking me if, by any chance, I was ALSO the author of a different blog. Like, a blog beyond any of the other four frillion sites I contribute to, maintained under someone else's name and life story, all sneaky-seekrit-identity-like.
I cannot even imagine having the copious amounts of free time one would need to pull off something like that, and also the organizational skills. Like, is this the blog where I'm a boring suburban mother-of-two with a penchant for sucker-punching my readers in the vaginas at the end of every post, like "funny funny Star Wars run-on-sentence funny BAM! EMOTIONAL KAPOW! WHO'S CRYING AT WORK NOW, SUCKAH?" Or is this the blog where I'm a fabulously carefree 20-something in Los Angeles who blogs about all the interesting people she sleeps with and spells everything The British Way, because she thinks it makes her sound fancy? Or is this the blog where I'm a 40-something dude who posts a lot of Stargate fanfic and bitches about all the major dramazzz at this year's ComicCon? I AM SO CONFUSED. I DON'T KNOW HOW SUPERMAN DOES IT.
Anyway. So I get this email and click through to the other blog in question -- you know, just to make sure I WASN'T maintaining a second secret blog identity (maybe I had a stroke? or am taking too much melatonin and sleep-driving to all-night Internet cafes?) -- and it was Hyperbole and a Half. Which. You know, MAJOR COMPLIMENT THERE, for anyone to possibly think Allie and I are the same person, even though we have both been repeatedly harassed by vicious geese, because she is so, so much funnier than me. And probably you. I'm sorry, but it's the truth.
ANYWAY. OH MY GOD. THE POINT! IS! That thanks to that email I got all sucked up into an Archives Vortex, that thing you do when you just start clicking "previous entry" over and over again and then next thing you know it's two in the morning and you're reading stuff from two years ago that you maybe even actually READ two years ago, but it's like when you turn on the TV and there's that one rerun of Cheers or Seinfeld or the Star Trek One With Tribbles and you've seen it before but it's one of your FAVORITES and you have to watch it anyway. Because it's AWESOME, and maybe only reruns once every couple years! This is your chance! Until TV Land reruns it again next Sunday, or whatever.
Wait. Shit. That wasn't actually my point after all.
No, my point REALLY is that I read this entry about Allie giving her dog an IQ test, and it made me laugh a ridiculously snarffily amount, and then, because it was -- again -- two in the morning, I started eyeing my own dog, who was sleeping on a piece of paper next to her dog bed, probably because that paper was something important and her underside gets all oily in the summer.
I totally should give her an IQ test, I thought. And then post the results on my blog, which wouldn't be copycat-like at ALL, because one single solitary person thought our writing styles were possibly kind of similar already! We might even be the same person! YOU CAN'T PLAGIARIZE FROM YOURSELF. FACT. THAT'S HOW WORMHOLES GET STARTED.
At this point I wisely decided to go to bed.
Only to wake up a few hours later thinking: DOGGY IQ TEST TIME, BITCHES.
Test One: Problem-Solving Ability
This involves hiding a treat under a can, and seeing how long it takes your dog to knock the can over.
I thought a full-sized can would be unfair for Ceiba, since that would be like me expecting you to knock over one of those orange road-work barrels with only your nose, but using something like a tomato paste can seemed maybe too easy, so I went with a small plastic cup. I hope this does not invalidate my very scientific results.
To her credit, Ceiba definitely seemed to know the treat was under that cup, though she was at a complete loss as to what to DO about this confounding conundrum, other than 1) sniff the cup, and 2) stare at me.
I DO NOT UNDERSTAAAAAAAAAAND.
ALSO, FUCK THIS SHIT.
After a few minutes, it appeared that Ceiba forgot that the treat was even under the cup in the first place, and kept looking for it elsewhere. Over here? Over here? Now back over there again! Wait, over here! Still nothing over here, let's try back over there again!
I thought, perhaps, that my dog is simply a visual learner, and this test was unfairly skewered against her skills, so I switched to a clear glass. Maybe if she could SEE the treat, she'd be a bit more motivated?
NO. SERIOUSLY. FUCK THIS SHIT. AND YOU.
Score: 1 point.
She actually did pretty well on this one! It took her about 20 seconds to get free, although she did run directly into the TV cabinet first, but the testing criteria doesn't mention any point deductions for headbutting large obstacles, therefore I am awarding her the full 3 points.
(ROCKY FIST-PUMP DANCE!)
Test Three: Social Learning
Stare at your dog. After three seconds, smile at your dog. They're supposed to see this and come over in search of love and validation and who'sagooddog who'sagooddog and etc. At the very least, there should be some tail-wagging.
Results: Inconclusive, because Ceiba never made it through the initial three seconds of eye contact before she charged over to me, all FOOD? YOU HAVE SOME FOOD? ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME BECAUSE YOU WANT TO GIVE ME SOME FOOD? I WOULD BE HAPPY TO ACCEPT SOME FOOD OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU SMILING AT ME INSTEAD OF GIVING ME SOME FOOD?
I skipped scoring this one, mostly MY DOG DOESN'T HAVE A TAIL, YOU ASSHOLES. Way to make her feel self-conscious about it.
Test Four: Advanced Problem-Solving
A god-awful hybrid of past failures. Hide the treat under the blanket or towel. See how long it takes dog to find it.
Results: Ceiba immediately deployed her patented make your beddy digging technique that she uses to, well, make her beddy, before collapsing in an exhausted I've done nothing all day heap. She has also destroyed our couch cushions and multiple decorative throw pillows with it, but BOO-YAH, if it didn't help her find that treat in just over 30 seconds.
If you would ever like her assistance in recovering buried dead bodies in the woods, email me. Just make sure they smell like compressed turkey jerky first.
Score: 3 points
(OBNOXIOUS CROWD SOUND EFFECT THAT FRAT GUYS DO THAT ACTUALLY SOUNDS NOTHING LIKE A CROWD)
Test Five: Manipulation Skills
This test requires that you build a low table that your dog cannot get her head under. Then you hide a treat underneath it to see if it occurs to her to retrieve it with her paw. This presented a challenge, because 1) my dog's muzzle is the size of a roll of pennies, and 2) my dog has a somewhat long history of getting her head stubbornly stuck in places, so I didn't want to use anything that could possibly crush her puny head like the overripe plum that it is.
I went with a heavy package of Ikea curtains I've been meaning to hang up since, oh, 2006, propped up by couple Sookie Stackhouse novels.
Since I wasn't sure if that was Ceiba's preferred vampire franchise, I added a magazine with Taylor Lautner on top.
The results were astounding. It took Ceiba less than three seconds to retrieve the treat. Unfortunately, she went with violent brute force instead of dexterity...
IMMA GUNNA EAT U
YEAH. I FUCKED THAT SHIT UP RIGHT. *Z SNAPS*
Score: Obvious test proctor error. Student should not be penalized. 3 points.
Test Six: Language Recognition
An easy one: Shout random words at your dog in the same tone you usually use to call her name and see if she knows the difference. If she stays put, call her name. If she comes only to her name, congratulations! Your dog is not a complete moron.
Words Ceiba responded to in a super-excited, running-over-and-jumping and OMGOMGOMG fashion: Refrigerator, movies, tangerine, Sookeh, dumbass.
Words Ceiba ignored completely: HER ACTUAL NAME.Score: 1 point for enthusiasm; sticking the landing.
Ceiba's final score was a measly 11 points, which puts her in the Your dog is not too bright, but is most likely very cute range, and thankfully the testing website did not include a caveat or asterisk that added "provided you find seizing hummingbird-eared hamsters on stilts to be 'very cute'" or something.
Basically, I just spent an entire morning scientifically proving (and documenting!) something that I (and the Internet!) already really knew: My dog is pretty damn dumb.
Good thing she coordinates with our floors so nicely.