The Dynamic Duo

Well, my UltraSon has informed me that my last post’s experimental form of “stream of conciousness, air-headed rambling” was less than effective, so I guess I must go back to my usual witty repartee and subtle humor. But what to write about? Ah, I have it. My dog…..........
I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this or not, but I have a “new” puppy…well, new since last October, but he hasn’t yet lost his luster in my owner-proud eyes. I am referring, of course, to Murphy, the Wonderdog. He shares the twin attributes of being absolutely adorable and incredibly smart. Every day (he prefers twice a day) we have to run through his tricks, treats in hand. Johnny claims that I always do the tricks in the same order and that he will perform them equally well with hand signals. He WILL perform with hand signals, but that is because he is bilingual. “Sit, shake, shake the other hand, lay down, rollover, stand, sit up(this one is still a bit rough), come, stay”. Impressed, aren’t you? I must admit, however, that his performance is a little less sterling without treats in hand, or when there is any other distraction, such as being outside.
The other day, we were walking outdoors over by the horse corral. Murphy used to be terrified of the horses, but has worked hard to overcome his fear because of the delights that can be found in their proximity; namely horse manure. It is irrestible to him, though I have a hard time identifying with its appeal. I asked Murphy to stay with me while we walked, but he begged a moment to go view the horses, and the next thing I knew, he was racing about INSIDE the horse pen, weaving in and out among their hooves, stopping once in a while to pick up a particularly fragrant morsel. “Murphy, come!” I screamed frantically, although my newest read “How to be your Dog’s Best Friend” by the Monks of New Skeet tell you to NEVER call your dog to you to discipline him. If you must discipline him, go and get him. Right. That’s a little hard to do when he is racing about inside a horse corral. The horses, recently fed, were placidly chewing their hay, gazing curiously at the small idiotic dog zigzagging erratically about their home, but I knew that one stray hoof could spell his demise. He finally responded to a loudly screamed “Bad Dog”, seeming to finally realize that he might be in a bit of trouble.
I picked up his front feet and shook him firmly, the New Skeet Monk’s preferred form of punishment, and gave him the cold shoulder the rest of the evening.
The next day, he was frantic to worm himself back into my good graces, and an experimental walk past the horse corral produced the desired results. He cast longing glances, he tentatively ran a few steps towards it, but in the end, he passed up the forbidden pleasures to please me.
Today, Murphy and I took a nice long walk. After driving to the gravel pit, we walked into Box Canyon, as far as some canyon walls decorated with Indian Art (just red circles, but its still kind of cool). Murph was walking with me so well that I removed the leash for the walk back, and he stayed with me pretty well . I didn’t have my pedometer, but we were gone for an hour and a half, so we must have walked about 5 miles. We both took a bit of a nap this afternoon.
. For Easter, I bought him a small sqeaky duck toy, but he seemed to prefer the little pink stuffed lamb that I got for his sister, Heather. Don’t tell him, but I got him a lamb of his own the next day when all the Easter stuff was 75% off. I’m saving it for when he has been especially good, or for when I find a larger toybox for him. His is getting a bit full.
He still sleeps with me at night, but when Johnny was home, his first act upon arising in the morning would be to scratch on Johnny’s door. Sometimes he would go in and snuggle back to sleep, but usually he was ready to play. He and Johnny played a fun game where Murphy would bite (very gently; more or a nibble, really) and Johnny would shriek. For some reason, Murphy seemed to be having more fun than Johnny, especially when the game was his means of awakening.

Well, its about time for me and the Murph Dog to go to bed. Sweet dreams.

UltraMom