Helper Dude came in the late morning to give Bess a pedicure. She had caught me with a toenail a night or two ago as she turned over in bed and I woke up to blood on the sheets. One would think that her nails would be worn down from running over the gravel and sand here, but no. Dude has the tools and the strength to hold a wriggling dog who does not like to have her feet touched and I'm grateful.
We made no points in the neighborhood this morning. Since Bess does not hear a car drive up even when she's lying by the open door, I can only think she smelled some evil night thing in the yard and sounded the alarm at 4:30; too early by anyone's standards. There was no going back to sleep. About 5:30 she asked nicely to go out and take care of personal business. As she was calm then, I complied. Big mistake. Not quite light out, she dashed around in the dark like something demented, loudly warning off whatever real or imagined enemy was out there. It being Friday, I can hope that whatever neighbors in hearing had to get up anyhow to go to work. The one command that Bessie does not heed is 'recall.' I've tried every training trick I know, but she becomes focused and single-minded and she totally ignores me. Yelling is ineffective and only adds to the chaos. I decided that perhaps if I remained quiet, the neighbors might think it was some stray dog disturbing their sleep. Being the cowardly lion was preferable to being the local witch.
1 comment:
That photo was beyond spectacular. Hope the cooler weather materialized!
Post a Comment