Although I am a dog I know things. Like when it is time to eat. Mom doesn’t need a watch. At 7 in the morning time, or as soon as she’s done yanking her head-fur with the electric heat machine, I know it’s time for breakfast. Dinnertime is precisely at 5pm unless Mom decides to make me suffer and wait. She does this on purpose so that I won’t faint from hunger if I’m always used to eating at the same time and no food comes.
The leash means WALKS!
I like ice cubes. I thought I’d mention that in case you would like to send me some.
I know that when Mom puts her coat on, she usually will want me to tinkle outside. Towels on the bathroom floor mean bath time, followed by much drinking of water and more tinkles.
Suitcases mean it’s another trip. She packs. I help by removing things and bringing them to her. I want her to stay home. I mope.
“Bye-bye” means we’re going some place in the car. My tail goes way up and I move fast before they change their mind. “Up-up” means get in the car. (Wait until they open the door first.) And at the end of the day “Night-night” means it’s time to go upstairs and go to sleep.
I also know the usual commands like sit, down, stay, off, leave it and wait. I also know special things like ” remain.” That’s what Mom says when she and Daddy leave the house with me in it alone. I’m supposed to REMAIN while they leave. I don’t have to be any place in particular, just inside the house. I guess I’m not supposed to unlock the doors or drive the other car or something. STAY would be horrible, as I would have to plant my carcass in one place and not move for many long times.
“To the rug” is what I get told when the door bell rings. We have a rug just for me about 10 feet from the door and that’s my place when people come to the house. Mom wants to make sure any visitors who come are OK with dogs. If they’re not I don’t get up. If they are, I am invited to “go visit.” My new best friends then get to pet me and love on me and I transfer my fur onto their pant legs in return.
And, I can “trash it.” That’s putting things INTO the trash, like paper. Tissue is the hardest because it gets stuck to the roof of my mouth and although I want to let it go it just won’t fall out on it’s own. I can also pick up anything Mom tells me to and hand it to her.
How’d I learn all these things? TREATS! That my best word. I can even spell it.
Here are some very nice dogs receiving treats in slow motion. You’ll want to watch this several times.
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(By the way, if you like Mommy, please “like her” on Facebook too, then you and her and all your friends and all her friends can be friends. And you can talk about me. Mom Tweets too. Go figure. As long as she doesn’t meow, I guess I’m OK.)