School, Day 2: Walk Nicely

Hi, guys. 

This morning, I went for my second day of school. I’m the smartest kid in class. I know this because, well, it’s me we’re talking about and because Mom tells me how smart I am every day. She tells me each morning when she gives me my first good boy treat of the day, “You are smart. You are pretty. You are my darling.” And then she asks me to sit for my snack. I don’t think she would tell me those things if they weren’t true.  

Last Saturday, I learned how to target, focus, and sit. Sitting has come pretty naturally for me, because Mom taught me that when I was a baby in Botswana, so I just needed to be reminded. The targeting doesn’t make sense to me. Mom puts her hand down with a treat between her fingers and I’m supposed to touch her hand with my snout and then take the treat. She tells me I’m a good boy for doing that simple little thing. I feel guilty receiving praise for such a silly thing as this, so I usually ignore her when she says target. I prefer to earn my treats with a pretty sit. As for focusing, well, I think that’s overrated. How am I supposed to focus on Mom all the time? The way it was explained to me, I am supposed to be focused Mom awaiting her next command. Yeah, that’s not happening. If she wants me to perform some silly puppy trick, then she’s going to have to focus on me, get my attention, and then be prepared to back it up with a good boy treat. I prefer the apple-banana bites, but she still tries to pass off some bacon flavored nonsense. Don’t get me wrong; I like bacon, but only the real meaty thing and not some plasticky foul-smelling wannabe puppy snack from a baggie. Yuck!

This morning, I was a bit distracted by the newcomer to our small class. His name is Ozzy and he is the cutest most playful bundle of fluff I’ve ever seen. All I wanted to do was introduce myself and play, but Mom insisted that I pay attention to the teacher. She can be so unreasonable at times. How can she expect me to pay attention when a doggy my size was right next to me just waiting to become my new best friend? I yipped my shrill cry that Mom says is powerful enough to burst eardrums. All I got was a “shush” from Mom and an admonition from the teacher that Mom should turn me around to face her so I couldn’t see my potential new friend. She even told Mom that she must learn to control me. Who is she kidding? Mom control me? Yeah, right. I was born to be free, a puppy on the go, a jetsetter traveling the world with Mom. No human controls me. Mom told me to sit and behave and gave me a good boy treat when I complied. But that’s not her controlling me. I sat because I wanted that treat and for no other reason. 

Mom was excited for today’s lesson because I was supposed to learn how to walk nicely on a leash and not pull. I feel like I already walk nicely on a leash. Okay, so maybe I pull a little bit. If Mom learned to walk faster, I wouldn’t have to pull, so it’s all her fault. Maybe she should be the one in training and not me. That’s what I think. But I’m not sure she could handle the rigors of learning. She’s a bit stubborn, but don’t tell her I said that.

I must have done okay in school, because after I finished, Mom took me shopping. I chew through bones and cow feet pretty fast, so today I picked out a buffalo horn. Wow! It’s so big. I can’t imagine the creature who grew it. I want Mom to take me to see one of these buffalos so I can chase it. Where can we find a buffalo? Does anyone know?

Bye for now. I’ll be back soon to tell you about my trip to the beach. I had so much fun playing in the sand. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.