The entire country’s domesticated animal population didn’t consider me a corpse, but they thought as much of their respective owners.
Time change is a bitch. However, if she gets exhausted and wants to nap earlier… heck, I’m down with that.
She also keeps growing. It’s getting harder to hold her. Her back legs are, for now, longer than her front ones and when she runs, her butt overtakes her head and over she goes. It’s really hard not to laugh, but she seems to have a good sense of humor about it, too.
Also, she’s becoming less tolerant of the different treatment she receives versus how we treat the cat.
I take the dog out to piddle at 6:15 or so, before I get up for work at about 6:45. After she “gets busy”, I tuck her back in her crate and enjoy a few blissful minutes back in bed. Then, after I shower, she remains in her crate until Beloved gets up.
At first, she was oblivious to MaeMae sneaking outside when she goes out to widddle. She’s becoming increasingly infuriated by the disparate treatment.
Dog: what da hell, man! Cat goes out at 6:15.
Me: so do you.
Dog: I go back in my crate. Cat plays outside.
Me: she’s older. And more responsible.
Dog: I’M responsible!
Cat (rolling her eyes): You crapped a grass turd this morning. After you pooped a rock.
Dog: What’s your point?
Cat (lifting one eyebrow): They can’t trust you not to eat whatever you see.
Dog: You eat lizards. I don’t eat lizards.
Cat (outraged): They don’t LET you. And I do not eat lizards. I play with them. And possibly nibble their toes.
Dog: Cat not expected to sleep on foil.
Me: I don’t want you to sleep on foil!
Dog: If you didn’t want me to sleep on foil, you wouldn’t put it all over the sofas.
SMH. Service animals cannot be allowed to catch 40 winks on the chaise lounge. They’re to be trained so they keep four on the floor at all times.
Ole Miss M didn’t get the memo on that, and doesn’t quite understand why we are trying to convince her to stay off. I mean, it’s way more comfortable than the floor or that thin carpet, why WOULDN’T the dog climb aboard the cushy seats?
Hence, the aluminum foil on all the sofas. It’s what we’re told to use to try to prevent stealth snuggling.
Miss M sees it as a nuisance. She tries to pick it up in her maw and deposit it on the ground, then attempts to sneak up and curl up, despite our best efforts. At least once, too, we’ve found a dog-sized indentation in the foil.
And then, yesterday, she took a very small piece outta said foil and consumed it before I could stop her. After multiple calls to vets and our puppy coordinator, GDA sorted it out, thankfully. No more foil on the sofas… and watch for sparkly poo, unless she starts acting weird (dry heaves, listless, etc).
Listless? This dog?
Now the foil is off the sofas, and the dog is like SCORE! So now we have to be super-vigilant of the furniture (which we were before, but god, you can’t have eyes on the dog ALL the time. I gotta pee sometime…)
Otherwise, she’s so amazing. We had a puggle (pug/beagle cross) before her, and training a beagle is like reasoning with water. It’s gonna go and do what it wants, regardless of pleading or bribery. Abby would listen to a command, consider whether it was in her best interest to do it, then preferably somehow score the treat without doing the action.
All you dog trainers out there… please no hating. I’m a financial analyst, NOT a trainer. This is our first attempt. We tried with Abby but didn’t seek the guidance we needed. Our next dog will be much better behaved. GDA is teaching us a TON… and not just for raising a guide dog. Any dog.
And amazingly, we’ve discovered doing training calms the zoomies. She WANTS to train… and not just for the treats (well, okay, mostly).
ExaminingMisadventures 