it’s a fuzzy fuzzy world…

life in the heartland… with dogs… and cats…

Flower

Oh dear…

So I’m spending some quality time with Petey this evening, where he’s the only dog loose in the main part of the house with me, and I discovered some interesting things.

First… he’s firmly convinced, from months of playing fetch with Nick, that fetch should be a contact sport, in which I’m the quarterback, Nick is the wide receiver who goes out for the long pass, and Petey is the defensive tackle who body blocks Nick, causes a fumble and steals the ball. The first time I threw his hedgehog for him tonight, he just stared at Nick (who was in the crate) and looked thoroughly confused about not having a receiver to block. He did get the hang of it pretty quickly, but it’s clear that I need to do a lot more one-on-one work w/ Mr. Pete on retrieving.

Second… he’s really used to having a playmate to keep him occupied. That can be me, or it can be Nick, and in the absence of either of us, he creates his own fun. I came up from downstairs just in time to see Petey vault onto the dining room table (which is bar-height… so substantially taller than your average table), where he proceeded to come nose-to-nose with a very startled Fiddler, who quickly gave way to allow Petey unimpeded access to the cat food*.

Good grief.

This is going to require a whole new level of puppy-proofing!

* Yes, the cat food is on the dining room table. I usually eat in the living room. The cats’ food bowl is on the dining room table to keep it out of reach (until now) of the dogs.

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2 Responses to “Oh dear…”

  1. January 19th, 2012 at 12:28 am

    Kristina says:

    Heeeeeeeeeee.

  2. January 19th, 2012 at 8:50 am

    admin says:

    I know! It was funny, and really kinda cute, but of course he didn’t want to come off the table (which has a heavy blanket on it to protect the wood) so I’m standing there, at eye level with the puppy, trying to decide the best way to get him down. If I pulled on his collar, he just settled down and drug the blanket (and the food bowl, and the mail, etc.) with him. And I didn’t really want him launching from the table either… that whole puppy-joints-are-still-forming thing seemed to make jumping down from the tall table a bad idea.

    I finally just picked him up and carried him, wriggling wildly, back into the living room. Goofy puppy!

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