I’m sharing this story from a friend because it’s too funny not to share.
He tells me … So, my neighbors had been complaining that my dog wouldn’t stop barking. I hate those electric zapping bark collars, so I decided to buy a more “humane” citronella collar.
The way it works is that when a dog barks, it sprays a puff of citronella under their nose, which dogs apparently dislike, but it is supposed to have a calming effect and stop him from barking.
This evening, I was getting the collar ready and filled it with citronella liquid. And honestly, this is where my night should have ended. But no — because I’m me and curiosity got the better of me.
I started wondering, “How does this citronella collar actually work?”
So, there I was, standing by my back door, barking at the collar like a lunatic. Nothing happened. I thought, “Maybe it’s not turned on?” I checked everything — made sure it was filled, went through the instructions, and tried again. I barked louder this time. Still nothing.
And then, for reasons that now escape me, I had the brilliant idea to test it on myself. I adjusted the band to fit around my neck, made sure the sensor box was snug against my throat, and barked.
Turns out, the collar only activates when it feels vibrations. Because as soon as I barked, the thing blasted me with a powerful puff of citronella. Right in my face.
I immediately started coughing, which — guess what? That triggered the collar to keep spraying. So now, I’m on my hands and knees in my backyard, choking and trying to breathe, while the collar keeps spraying citronella into my nose and eyes every time I make a sound.
Meanwhile, my dogs starts barking, which doesn’t help because it just makes me yell, which of course sets off the collar again.
At this point, I’m blindly fumbling with the clasp, trying to get it off, but it feels like it’s welded shut. Every time I cough or yell, it triggers another blast of citronella straight to my face. It’s like I’m caught in some kind of citronella torture loop.
I finally manage to rip the thing off and, in a fit of rage, chuck it across the yard. Then I collapse onto the grass, gasping for air and trying to process what just happened. My face is burning, my eyes are watering, and I smell like a walking Tiki torch.
As I lay there, I hear laughter.
I turn my head and see my neighbor leaning over the wall, absolutely dying of laughter.
Between fits of giggles, he gasps, “I was going to help, but every time I started to climb over the wall, you’d trigger it again, and I’d start laughing too hard to move!”
Mortified, I gave him a half-hearted wave before dragging myself inside to shower off the citronella disaster.
Lessons learned:
Don’t fill the collar before testing it.
Don’t test a bark collar on yourself.
Never expect your neighbor to be helpful when they’re witnessing live comedy gold.
On the bright side, I probably won’t have any mosquito problems for a while.