Sometimes Kristina likes to look at pictures of me when I was a puppy. Check out the “stick” I’m playing with.
Kristina threw it and said, “Fetch.”
I trotted after it, lay down, and chewed it. Like I’d pick something up and bring it back to her. No matter how hard she tried, I wouldn’t return with the stick. Finally I told her, ” It’s a twig not a stick.”
She laughed. “Come on, Farley. You can do it.”
Of course I could. But would I chose to? That’s the important question.
I think I was pretty cute and wagged my tail at her. No fetching a twig for me. And just so you know, to this day, I’ve never fetched a stick.
Last week we had a four year old boy visit our house. Did you know four year old humans are shorter than regular humans? Much shorter than the humans I’m used to.
This little boy needed a pillow on the chair to boost him up, otherwise he couldn’t reach his food. Kristina went to the living room and fetched (ha ha – I said fetched for a human) one of the fancy living room pillows for the boy.
After everyone went to bed, I snuck downstairs, crept under the table, and with my teeth, slid the soft pillow off the dining room chair and onto the floor.
Wow, did I have a good night’s sleep.
However, Kristina – my tall human – was a bit quiet and I didn’t hear her get up in the morning.
Busted! She caught me sleeping on the pillow.
What’s a dog to do except run to her, wag his tail, give her a big lick, and look as cute as possible.
What did Kristina do? She leaned down, gave me a hug and a cookie, and said, “No sleeping on my good pillows.” Yup, that’s going to keep me from stealing pillows in the future.
How does a Wheaten Terrier cope in a small space with four other dogs?
I’m the wheaten in the photo. The dogs with me are a lab/springer mix, and two Australian Shepherd/Poodles mixes. Callie, the Jack Russell is below. She refused to have her photo taken with us because she was too busy napping in the pillows.
So we were on a boat but who invited the thunder storm? Smudge (Lab/Springer) and I don’t like them. The other dogs didn’t care.
Five dogs and only a couple of snapping incidents – not by me because, as you know, I’m perfect. One of the Australian Shepherd’s snapped at Smudge. Smudge, being a lab, just ignored the dog. I hid behind Kristina’s legs. I don’t like conflict. The humans all talked about how to stop aggression in dogs. The conclusion. Someone has to the be the alpha and take control. I didn’t get whether that meant a dog alpha or a human alpha. All I know is I’m not the alpha. It’s all so confusing.
We swam, we ran, we got wet, then we had to stay on the back deck until we were dry. All the human’s got to go inside and warm up. but not us. Oh, except the spoilt one. Callie gets cold, so she got to join in side and bury herself on the couch. And you thought all this time, I was the spoilt one.
Well I could have told her that. Kristina keeps reading me tidbits that I already know.
Here’s what I do when I need to tell her something:
Tap on floor with my nails during the night if I need out. That seems to wake her up, but not my male human though. He sleeps through everything. If she won’t wake up I breathe in her face. First time I did that she seemed a bit startled. Humans don’t like to be woken up with someone breathing in their face I guess.
Whack my water boil against sliding glass door when I need water. Seems to really get her going at 3am.
Stare at cupboard, then at Kristina, then at cupboard where my treats are kept. She knows this means she should open the door and hand me a treat.
Give her my most intense stare when I’m hungry. I can even do this in a run by stare and she knows it’s my “feed me stare.”
Press the top of my head on the sliding glass door when I need outside quickly (if there’s an emergency – I don’t like to throw up inside.). Kristina wants me to bark in this case, but that’s too undignified for me. I’m not a barky kinda guy.
I can even ask Kristina questions with just a look.
When we’re hiking, if I come to a place on the trail where I have to make a choice on direction, I look back at Kristina and she points, telling me where to go. I’m a big eye contact guy, but I do know words too.
If we come across strangers, I glance at Kristina. If she waves away from the people, I don’t approach them. If she says “okay” I run and greet them.
Kristina says her last dog was more word oriented, and that I do better with hand signals. Whatever . . . I’m still a genius.