Music and Words

February 21, 2010

The Puppy Who Made Me 30 Minutes Late for Church Today

Filed under: Uncategorized — melomania @ 9:31 pm

I woke up, ate breakfast, brewed coffee, and got ready to take the dogs for a walk. I wandered all over the house looking for one of the leashes, because one of them was on the floor in front of the door, and the other was nowhere to be found. Turns out it was in the family room. How it got there, I have no idea, although I suspect it had to do with The Puppy Who Likes to Chew on Leashes.

I put a travel mug of coffee next to the door so I wouldn’t forget it when I left for church, leashed the dogs up, and took them for a walk. We were almost home when Bandit decided he needed to poop. And he had to do it on someone’s front yard. And I could see them watching me through the window, as I stood there looking like an inconsiderate idiot because I didn’t bring a bag to clean it up. I took the dogs home and grabbed a bag to run back and clean it up. As I eased out the door, holding Bandit back with my foot, The Puppy Who Thinks She’s Houdini snuck by me out the door.

I gave up yelling at her to get back inside and took her with me down the street to clean up the poop. She was surprisingly good for me – coming when she was called and all that, until we got back to the house. She didn’t want to go back inside. I shortly gave up and walked in myself, hoping she’d follow. She did. Then she followed me into the garage to throw away the poop bag, which wasn’t a big deal because the garage was closed.

When we got back inside, The Puppy Who Suddenly Hates Her Crate realized that she was about to go in her crate so I could leave, and she darted out to the backyard because the back door was still open. I yelled at her and offered her a treat, but she was determined. So I gave up and tried my strategy of tricking her again by walking over to put Bandit in his crate and ignoring her. It didn’t work. The Puppy Who Knows Better was still out in the back yard, looking like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be playing a game or just nervous that I would catch her.

(For the record, The Puppy Who Runs Like a Cheetah has no reason to be nervous. I can’t catch her. Which is the whole problem with her newfound hatred for her crate.)

After I spent a while yelling at her and not chasing her around the backyard because I knew that would just make it worse, I gave up on the whole idea of putting her in her crate and decided to just leave her out. It’s only a couple of hours, after all, during the time of day where they normally sleep. Unfortunately The Puppy Who Doesn’t Speak English, didn’t understand what I was saying, so I didn’t really accomplish anything. I went over to let Bandit out of his crate and she came around the side of the stairs to watch me. As soon as I saw her and called to her to come over, she ran straight up the stairs and hid under the bed in my parents’ room.

Well, I figured I should probably close all the bedroom doors upstairs to keep The Puppy Who Likes to Chew Everything out of the rooms, so I headed upstairs after her to do that and get her to come back downstairs. Of course, I couldn’t close the door to the room she was in, so I went down the hall to get the bathroom and my room. As I was closing the door to my room, she darted past me and ran into it. And wouldn’t come back out. So I walked back to the other end of the hall and shut my parents’ door, while she ran back out of my room and straight into my brother’s room to hide under his bed. I went to shut my door, and Bandit ran in. Fortunately, he’s much better about getting out of a room when he’s told, so that was much easier to deal with and didn’t involve trying to outsmart The Puppy Who Might Be Smarter Than a Fifth-Grader yet again.

Finally, she came out from under the bed and stood in my brother’s room looking at me. I grabbed Bandit’s collar and threw the treat I was holding down the hall for her to get, and shut the last bedroom door quickly while she picked up the treat and ran down the stairs with it.

I followed The Puppy Who Thinks She’s Won downstairs and couldn’t find her. At that moment I came to a horrible realization – I was so busy chasing her up the stairs that I didn’t close the back door after she came in. She was outside, eating her treat on the grass. Wonderful.

After another few minutes of yelling and refusing to make an even bigger fool of myself by chasing her around the yard (I was wearing three-inch heels) I very seriously considered just leaving The Puppy Who’s Even More Stubborn Than Me outside. I’m not thrilled about this idea, because we’ve never left her outside while we’ve been out of the house, and I know that when she starts whining and barking, the whole neighborhood is going to hate us. As my dad later put it, “It’s just not safe. For her or the neighbors.”

I have one more option to try to tempt her inside. I grabbed a golf ball out of our collection and tossed it so it landed on the tile floor. Golf balls make a very distinctive sound when you do that, and The Puppy Who LOVES Golf Balls promptly came tearing in the door, still avoiding me by about 5 feet and completely missing the ball.

I threw a treat at her, closed the door, grabbed my purse, and walked out the front. I got to church a little while later, relaxed into my chair, and my head hit my palm.

I forgot my coffee.

February 7, 2010

Nightly Battle

Filed under: Words — melomania @ 10:11 pm

I’d like to take a moment to describe what happens every night as I try to go to bed.

I lift the dog up on the bed and give her a treat. She eats the treat, then wanders around the bed for a couple of minutes, looking bored, before jumping off. She sniffs around the room for a while, then apparently decides nothing on the floor was all that interesting either, and she might as well get back up on the bed and go to sleep.

But she can’t jump up on the bed on her own.

So she comes around near where I’m sitting, and whines at me to pick her up. Since I know she won’t stop until I do what she wants, I usually sigh and lean down so I can pick her up. Now, I have two ways I can do this. I can either get off the bed and pick her up like most normal people would, or I can get her to put her front legs on the bed and pull her up without getting up. Unfortunately, Aria is weird.

If I try the first method, she runs under the bed. She’s always been like this – very skittish. We’ve had her since she was 6 weeks old, so I know no one’s ever beat her or anything, but she’s very weird about people coming near her. So as soon as I start looking like I’m getting out of bed to come get her, she puts her ears back and scoots under the bed as fast as possible.

If I try the second method, which I prefer, first I have to make sure she’s close enough that I can reach a paw and pull it up onto the side of the bed. She backs away a little while I’m doing this too, but if I can grab her, I almost always manage to get her up on the bed in the end. Then, when I do actually grab on to her paw so I can lift her up, she bites me for it. She bites all the time and it doesn’t hurt (anymore) so I just ignore this. Once I do get her up on the bed, she lays down immediately and goes to sleep.

All this for a dog who was actually on the bed to begin with.

February 5, 2010

On Commercials

Filed under: Words — melomania @ 11:16 am

Student: (regarding being at tutoring) Being here is a lot different than it looks in the commercials.

Me: Yeah? Why? [joking] Is it because I’m meaner than the people in the commercials?

Student: No, it’s just not as quiet as they make it look.

Me: Well maybe you should stop talking and do your work then.

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