The Little Pack » choices

Further Proving My Theory

Holly — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 05:26:32 +0000

Tonight I was sitting on the loveseat with Jackson next to me and Baby Titten on the armrest furthest away from me, but next to where Cheyenne normally lays. Cheyenne came and pawed at me with her razor sharp talons and I told her no. She pawed at the coffee table and I told her she was pushing her luck. She then jumped up on the armrest and walked along the back of the couch before stopping on the armrest next to me, sniffing my eyeball and promptly pawing me in the face. No one ever said she was normal. She was trying to tell me that the cat was by her spot, and yes, I am also disturbed that I understood what she was telling me. This time I decided to test her. I said, “Cheyenne there is plenty of room to lay in your spot next to the cat.” I didn’t even say any of this like a command. I said it like it is normal to reason with your dog, as though we were having a conversation. And to my amazement, she went and laid down exactly where I suggested. If Cheyenne were a person, she’d be the brilliant kid in school practically failing because she was not applying herself. My new theory is that just like the brilliant kids in school who are not applying themselves, she is really just bored and needs to be challenged. Apparently by holding conversations. We’ll see how far this theory gets me.

Why Wouldn’t This Be About Cheyenne?

Holly — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 03:17:51 +0000

After the drama with Dixie the past few weeks, tonight finds me writing about a more familiar topic: Cheyenne. Also, I am thinking I have used the phrase “tonight finds me” a few too many times recently. But I digress. Cheyenne. Is too smart. For real. We have now had this unique, hilarious, spirited, stubborn dog for a little over 3 years. You wouldn’t know it, but she is 4 years old. You wouldn’t know it because until very recently she a) acted like a puppy on speed most of the time, and b) didn’t really know that much. Maybe that last statement is inaccurate: she knows plenty, just not the things I would choose, or have attempted to teach her. And to be fair, she sits almost every time now, lays down and even comes most of the time. But “Don’t smash the cat” and “Quit pawing” still aren’t going so well. So I have known all along that she is super smart, but not motivated and I finally have proof. She has this really fun game she plays where she refuses to come to bed at night and I have to put her on the leash inside the house to get her to follow me. A coworker of mine thinks she likes the extra attention, and I am pretty sure she is right. Sometimes I just show her the leash, and I say, “are you really going to make me use this? Inside? Really?” And with the last “really,” I drop my voice an octave, like I am tough, and I give her The Look. You know the one where I raise one eyebrow, and look super serious because I mean business, young lady, and pretend to be badass but really no one, even my dog, actually believes it, but it works because it plants a seed of doubt in her little brain, like maybe, just maybe, this time I mean it. And I don’t think I can actually raise only one eyebrow, but, you know, its sort of along those lines. Lately, more often than not, she then gets up and walks down the hallway and goes to bed. The other night she went into the bedroom, and while I was brushing my teeth, she slowly and deliberately wandered into the hallway and began to head back to the living room, all the while looking over her shoulder to make sure I knew what she was doing. Sternly, I said, “Shooey, no.” She waivered but decided to keep going. Sterner yet I said, “That is e-nough. You go back in the bedroom and go night-nights. Now.” And then I employed The Look. (Note to self: use of the term “night-nights” may hamper the effectiveness of my sternness). She did. Which proved to me she understood everything I said to her. I told she no longer had an excuse, I knew her secret. The next day she was super-excited when I came home, smashed the kitty excessively (I can’t even comment on how disturbing and ridiculous the last sentence sounds to me). So I put her in time out, in our bedroom, by herself. Which didn’t work, because she scratched at the door. So I went in there and I told her to sit and that she needed to calm down. Then I pointed at the bed and said, “get on the bed, go to your spot, and lay down.” She tried to look confused and wagged her tail as though she was unsure. Nice try Shoo Shoo. I am on to you, dog. So I pretended to raise my eyebrow, and cocked my head to the side like I meant it. And she complied. Which means she understood every single word I said to her and all 3 commands I had given at one time. They say that knowledge is power, but I am pretty sure that this knowledge doesn’t help me make her behave.

IO’s Choice

Holly — Sat, 02 May 2009 03:25:09 +0000

It’s not often that IO puts her foot–ahem… paw–down, but when she does, forget it. Once her mind is made up, there is no changing it. Tonight we were grilling steaks outside and I opened the back hatch of my husband’s car and took a seat. Cheyenne and IO jumped in, happy to hang out with me back there. However, when it was time to go inside, IO refused to get out of the car. We left the car door open and went inside to eat dinner. Afterwards, we tried to coax her out. Nothing. So I decided to bribe her with steak. She came to the door but acted as though she didn’t want to jump down. I thought maybe her hips were hurting so I gave the piece of steak to her and when I went to help her out of the car, she quickly ran back in the car and laid down. OK. I went and got my husband. We told her she had to get out of the car when she pulled out the big gun–The Look of Desperation. By now she has been in the car 45 minutes. We looked at each other and knew that we had been defeated. We rounded up the others and went for a ride in the car, which is what she wanted all along. She had made up her mind that she was going with us the next time we went somewhere and she was simply going to wait as long as it took. In case you were wondering about Cheyenne, she was waaayyy too excited about everything else going on in the neighboorhood to stay focused on just one goal. She helped out though–in the car, out of the car, in the car, out of the car… you get the idea. I’m still in disbelief that I lost a battle of wills… to a dog.

Given a Choice

Holly — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 23:42:27 +0000

Anyone who thinks that dogs don’t understand choices, has never met my dogs. I give my dogs choices and they seem to understand. Maybe its the urgency in my voice, but when they are given choices, they respond in appropriate ways. For example, tonight, I said “Cheyenne, lay down.” No response. “Cheyenne, you need to lay down if you want love.” Bingo. She laid down immediately. Or the time Jackson was growling and snarling at Cheyenne and I said, “Jackson, be nice, or else you need to get down.” He knows both these commands: “be nice” and “get down” and guess what? he chose “be nice” so he could continue to sit by me on the couch. I don’t do this real frequently, but when I do, I am amazed at the way they respond.