Booty Camp: House Training Your Dog with the Booty Method

I remember several instances during my childhood where my mom said, “You just wait until you are older and have kids of your own. I hope they are just like you.” I generally took this as a compliment, like every other self-centered, narcissistic child with demon-driven behavior who was prone to striking deals with the devil. In hindsight, I’m thinking it was not a compliment.

I gleefully avoided the karmic retribution she foresaw by choosing to not have kids. But karma is a sneaky bitch, and got me anyways. So now I am stuck with Olive the Renegade, who refuses to be fully house broken, despite my best efforts. I have done countless hours of research and decided that none of the dog trainers seem to help so, much like my finally deciding to employ human baby techniques on Olive for her constant barking, I’d try it with the housebreaking. What do I really have to lose at this point?

the wiseass wife

I found an article about this woman, Wendy Sweeney, who calls herself a “potty whisperer” and runs something called “Booty Camp,” which sounds like the title of an awesome porno, but it is not. Booty Camp is where you send your toddler to learn to pee in a potty.

So I made a booty call to this self-proclaimed “Booty Expert” to get some answers on some long-pressing questions about booties:

1. Do you in fact have big booty bitches, big big booty bitches?
2. Do smart girls really tend to have dumb booties?
3. I know players wanna play, ballers wanna ball, and rollers wanna roll, but if I put my arms around you will you feel on my booty?

Sweeney was obliging in listening to my questions, but then asked that I never call again and hung up.


It was up to me to take Olive through Booty Camp on my own. I closely studied the tenets of the Booty Camp method. They are:

  • Never ask if they have to go potty. Give the responsibility fully to them.
  • Let the trainee know, “If you go pee and poo in your pants, you’re going to have to clean it up.”
  • Stuff the trainee full of salty snacks and sugary drinks to move things along. As Sweeney told TV’s Ann Curry, “The salty snacks make the kids more thirsty, so they drink more. It also draws water into the bowel and that softens the stool, and it helps prevent the constipation when the kids get nervous and want to start holding. The sugary drinks never quench their thirst, so they end up drinking more, and that gives them more opportunities to go to the bathroom in that short period of time.”
  • Tell the trainee that they need to listen to their body and when it is time to go, they have to go over to the potty and relieve themselves.

I also read in another potty training method that you can inspire the child to have to pee during potty training by setting up fountains or other types of running water. I pulled all of the Homedic fountains I own into the living room, and turned on the kitchen faucet for good measure.

I was ready to do this.

I sat Olive down and told her that it was her job to clean up her pee and poo if she goes in the house and she can NOT eat it, like she’s prone to doing. That is taking the easy way out. With that, I broke out some Cheetos and popped open a can of Red Bull, threw them both in her bowl, and waited.

9am: Olive has eaten some of the Cheetos and lapped up half of the Red Bull.

9:07am: Olive is drinking out of one of the Homedic fountains. An unexpected, but welcome, turn of events. The more fluids in her bladder, the better.

9:15am: All of the running water is making me have to pee. I grab Olive to go with me so she doesn’t pee in the house while I’m in the bathroom.

9:16am: I realize by locking Olive in the bathroom with me, I was not leaving the decision up to her to go on her own. I lean forward and open the bathroom door, and push her out of it.

9:18am: I ran out of the bathroom to see if Olive had peed. She was back over at her bowl, finishing off the Red Bull and Cheetos.

9:25am: Olive is running laps around the house like she was shot out of a cannon. She’s leaving orange streaks of Cheeto dust all over the furniture. The Red Bull must be taking effect.

9:43am: Olive is passed out in her bed. I think she crashed from the Red Bull. I feel like I should wake her to pee, but don’t want to take the power away from her. Also, this is the quietest she’s been in weeks.

10:12am: Olive is still sleeping so I poured myself a glass of wine and flipped on the TV to catch up on Girls.

10:34am: I’m on my third glass of wine and Olive is still sleeping. Fighting the urge to wake her and put her out to pee. She is so cute when she is sleeping. I think when she wakes up I am going to put her in one of her little dresses, put some Red Bull in a martini glass for her, and we can have “yappy hour.”

1:12pm: Fuck, I fell asleep after my 4th glass of wine. Olive shat in the living room and it has bits of bright orange in it. I think the Cheetos were a bad idea. I calmly told her that she had to clean it up herself by picking it up with a tissue and throwing it in the toilet. It then occurred to me that if Olive could reach the toilet, this would alleviate a lot of our potty training issues.

1:26pm: I have left the back patio door open in hopes that Olive will at least feel the urge to go outside to pee.

1:32pm: Olive is in the kitchen, sitting by the remaining cans of Red Bull, whining. Shit….I think she’s hooked on the Bull.

1:43: I give up, toss Olive outside, slam the patio door shut, and open a second bottle of wine.

My husband can deal with this when he gets home. I’m too drunk to be consistent at this point.

Mother of the Year.


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