I yelled. He cowered. I tapped him on the nose with it. He looked contrite. But we've been here before, and it only seems to sink in for a month or so that just because it's within reach on the coffee table doesn't mean it's fair game.
Then I remembered something. When I was 5 or 6 years old and we had just moved to Bonaire, we acquired a dog. I don't remember the details - I think it was a stray, and I know my dad adopted it. I have no memory of the dog's name, so he'll be Dog. Dog, who was an outside dog, would roam the neighborhood at night and come back with... things. More specifically, things from other neighbors' homes. A piece of decorative coral left to dry on a porch, an empty bowl, and on one memorable occasion, a goatskin rug.
One morning, Dog came home with a sneaker - just one. For whatever reason, that's when my dad decided he'd had enough. I don't know where he got this idea. He may have come up with it on his own, but it seems more like a tip you'd get from some guy at work. Anyway, he took the shoe, scolded Dog... and then tied the shoe around Dog's neck. Left it there all day. That dog walked around, so damn embarrassed and ashamed, and never brought home stolen goods again.
So I had Charlie sit and tied the controller to his collar. He sat in that same spot, silent and motionless, as I put away groceries, cleaned the kitchen, and put food in his bowl. I untied it about 15 minutes later, and he's been quietly following me around ever since.
I don't know if it worked, but it sure as hell did SOMETHING.
