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Today, for the first time EVER, my dogs gave me an opportunity to shovel handfuls of treats into their faces as a reward for watching Big Brindle Dog out of the window without one bark.
WIN.
WIN.
Today, for the first time EVER, my dogs gave me an opportunity to shovel handfuls of treats into their faces as a reward for watching Big Brindle Dog out of the window without one bark.
WIN.
WIN.
I suppose I am lucky. I do not see too much stupid pet ownership round here. There's just been the odd one that really boggles my mind - like the people with the free-range black-and-tan terrier (probably now deceased; I've not seen him around in a long time) the idiot who occasionally cycles down Woodbury Avenue with his offleash German Shepherd running behind his bike - on the main road, not the pavement, you understand - and the other idiot who does something similar with a big blond bully breed and got shirty with me for my dogs barking at his fucking loose dog.
( And then there's Yellow Labrador Guy. )
( And then there's Yellow Labrador Guy. )
I suppose I am lucky. I do not see too much stupid pet ownership round here. There's just been the odd one that really boggles my mind - like the people with the free-range black-and-tan terrier (probably now deceased; I've not seen him around in a long time) the idiot who occasionally cycles down Woodbury Avenue with his offleash German Shepherd running behind his bike - on the main road, not the pavement, you understand - and the other idiot who does something similar with a big blond bully breed and got shirty with me for my dogs barking at his fucking loose dog.
( And then there's Yellow Labrador Guy. )
( And then there's Yellow Labrador Guy. )
HOLY FUCKING SHIT.
Spike. ON-LEASH. Just stood still. Without barking! - while a GSD mix belonging to a neighbour lady on the way to the park came up to sniff noses and make nice with him.
He stood there, at first stiff as a board and hackled up like a dragon, but because he did not immediately launch into I KILL JOOO mode, I decided to stay still and see how he went on, especially as I know this dog and owner and KNEW she was friendly.
And I saw Spike slowly relax, just a little, and start very slowly wagging his tail.
Of course, that was when Squish's nerve broke and he threw a wobbler. But Spike never barked or growled or lifted a lip through the entire fucking encounter. Colour me knocked-over-with-a-feather amazed.
(The GSD mix was loose, accidentally. Her owner was right behind her, and if there hadn't been two Really Interesting Dogs that she wanted to greet, her owner would have had her back in hand inside 0.2 seconds instead of the ten or fifteen seconds it actually took. She's pretty good, that lady. I like her.)
WE ARE WINNING. All those months of rewarding for looking at strange dogs without the losing of the shit are paying off.
...Did I mention it was a GSD?? And that Spike never even barked ONCE? OMFG.
Spike. ON-LEASH. Just stood still. Without barking! - while a GSD mix belonging to a neighbour lady on the way to the park came up to sniff noses and make nice with him.
He stood there, at first stiff as a board and hackled up like a dragon, but because he did not immediately launch into I KILL JOOO mode, I decided to stay still and see how he went on, especially as I know this dog and owner and KNEW she was friendly.
And I saw Spike slowly relax, just a little, and start very slowly wagging his tail.
Of course, that was when Squish's nerve broke and he threw a wobbler. But Spike never barked or growled or lifted a lip through the entire fucking encounter. Colour me knocked-over-with-a-feather amazed.
(The GSD mix was loose, accidentally. Her owner was right behind her, and if there hadn't been two Really Interesting Dogs that she wanted to greet, her owner would have had her back in hand inside 0.2 seconds instead of the ten or fifteen seconds it actually took. She's pretty good, that lady. I like her.)
WE ARE WINNING. All those months of rewarding for looking at strange dogs without the losing of the shit are paying off.
...Did I mention it was a GSD?? And that Spike never even barked ONCE? OMFG.
Tags:
HOLY FUCKING SHIT.
Spike. ON-LEASH. Just stood still. Without barking! - while a GSD mix belonging to a neighbour lady on the way to the park came up to sniff noses and make nice with him.
He stood there, at first stiff as a board and hackled up like a dragon, but because he did not immediately launch into I KILL JOOO mode, I decided to stay still and see how he went on, especially as I know this dog and owner and KNEW she was friendly.
And I saw Spike slowly relax, just a little, and start very slowly wagging his tail.
Of course, that was when Squish's nerve broke and he threw a wobbler. But Spike never barked or growled or lifted a lip through the entire fucking encounter. Colour me knocked-over-with-a-feather amazed.
(The GSD mix was loose, accidentally. Her owner was right behind her, and if there hadn't been two Really Interesting Dogs that she wanted to greet, her owner would have had her back in hand inside 0.2 seconds instead of the ten or fifteen seconds it actually took. She's pretty good, that lady. I like her.)
WE ARE WINNING. All those months of rewarding for looking at strange dogs without the losing of the shit are paying off.
...Did I mention it was a GSD?? And that Spike never even barked ONCE? OMFG.
Spike. ON-LEASH. Just stood still. Without barking! - while a GSD mix belonging to a neighbour lady on the way to the park came up to sniff noses and make nice with him.
He stood there, at first stiff as a board and hackled up like a dragon, but because he did not immediately launch into I KILL JOOO mode, I decided to stay still and see how he went on, especially as I know this dog and owner and KNEW she was friendly.
And I saw Spike slowly relax, just a little, and start very slowly wagging his tail.
Of course, that was when Squish's nerve broke and he threw a wobbler. But Spike never barked or growled or lifted a lip through the entire fucking encounter. Colour me knocked-over-with-a-feather amazed.
(The GSD mix was loose, accidentally. Her owner was right behind her, and if there hadn't been two Really Interesting Dogs that she wanted to greet, her owner would have had her back in hand inside 0.2 seconds instead of the ten or fifteen seconds it actually took. She's pretty good, that lady. I like her.)
WE ARE WINNING. All those months of rewarding for looking at strange dogs without the losing of the shit are paying off.
...Did I mention it was a GSD?? And that Spike never even barked ONCE? OMFG.
Tags:
Operation Spike The Guns continues. I have a catproof screwtop jar full of treats on my desktop and intermittently reward both dogs for alerting out of the window without barking. Results are looking promising; there are still times when Spike can't stop himself, but the frequency of fire has gone right down, and I have witnessed him on several occasions visibly stopping himself with an effort. He gets big treats for that.
There's another unforeseen side effect, though. Squish is, on the whole, less intelligent than Spike; but he makes up for it with a broad streak of Slytherin cunning and he's also much more food motivated. And he has taken to inventing false alerts out of the window and ostentatiously not-barking at them. I love the little spotted sod.
There's another unforeseen side effect, though. Squish is, on the whole, less intelligent than Spike; but he makes up for it with a broad streak of Slytherin cunning and he's also much more food motivated. And he has taken to inventing false alerts out of the window and ostentatiously not-barking at them. I love the little spotted sod.
Tags:
Operation Spike The Guns continues. I have a catproof screwtop jar full of treats on my desktop and intermittently reward both dogs for alerting out of the window without barking. Results are looking promising; there are still times when Spike can't stop himself, but the frequency of fire has gone right down, and I have witnessed him on several occasions visibly stopping himself with an effort. He gets big treats for that.
There's another unforeseen side effect, though. Squish is, on the whole, less intelligent than Spike; but he makes up for it with a broad streak of Slytherin cunning and he's also much more food motivated. And he has taken to inventing false alerts out of the window and ostentatiously not-barking at them. I love the little spotted sod.
There's another unforeseen side effect, though. Squish is, on the whole, less intelligent than Spike; but he makes up for it with a broad streak of Slytherin cunning and he's also much more food motivated. And he has taken to inventing false alerts out of the window and ostentatiously not-barking at them. I love the little spotted sod.
Tags:
Note to self: when keeping dog treats handy on your desk for reminding Spike why he shouldn't bark out of the window, a Ziploc bag is not sufficient. Find a screw top jar. That cat doesn't need to be any fatter.
Note to self: when keeping dog treats handy on your desk for reminding Spike why he shouldn't bark out of the window, a Ziploc bag is not sufficient. Find a screw top jar. That cat doesn't need to be any fatter.
Still not dead.
Spike's been driving me (and my neighbours) batshit with his cannon-like barking out of the window every time a cat, squirrel, fox or other dog walks past in his field of vision. I finally had a "What Would Blaidd Do" moment and hit on what should have been the blindingly obvious sensible way to break him of the habit. Instead of concentrating on trying to quell him when he barks, reward the hell out of him every time he glances out the window without making a noise. We've now had two days and only one bark. ONE, as opposed to eight or ten twenty-one gun salutes. Fucking awesome.
In other less awesome news, I got up when that one bark happened because if whatever he's barking at is exciting enough he sometimes needs to picked up and carried away from the window before he'll shut up. Only Squish had left an enormous, rock-hard, jagged-edged old marrowbone right in my path and I came down on it hard. My right foot may never be the same again; it's all swollen and purple and I'm scared I might have broken something in it. This isn't the first time this has happened but I don't remember it hurting to put shoes on before.
ah well. if it isn't better in a day or so I'll go get someone to x-ray it. won't that be a jolly jape? Even jollier than trying to deal with an evil collie who can't understand why he's only getting short walks. It's times like this I feel my only regret about being single.
...I'm still reading you all. It's just... you get into a habit of non-communication and it sort of feeds on itself. The longer you go without commenting or posting the harder it gets to do it; the less you feel as though you have anything worth saying. The jury's still out on the last part but there's people I care about that I never meant to not be talking to. That's you, that is.
Spike's been driving me (and my neighbours) batshit with his cannon-like barking out of the window every time a cat, squirrel, fox or other dog walks past in his field of vision. I finally had a "What Would Blaidd Do" moment and hit on what should have been the blindingly obvious sensible way to break him of the habit. Instead of concentrating on trying to quell him when he barks, reward the hell out of him every time he glances out the window without making a noise. We've now had two days and only one bark. ONE, as opposed to eight or ten twenty-one gun salutes. Fucking awesome.
In other less awesome news, I got up when that one bark happened because if whatever he's barking at is exciting enough he sometimes needs to picked up and carried away from the window before he'll shut up. Only Squish had left an enormous, rock-hard, jagged-edged old marrowbone right in my path and I came down on it hard. My right foot may never be the same again; it's all swollen and purple and I'm scared I might have broken something in it. This isn't the first time this has happened but I don't remember it hurting to put shoes on before.
ah well. if it isn't better in a day or so I'll go get someone to x-ray it. won't that be a jolly jape? Even jollier than trying to deal with an evil collie who can't understand why he's only getting short walks. It's times like this I feel my only regret about being single.
...I'm still reading you all. It's just... you get into a habit of non-communication and it sort of feeds on itself. The longer you go without commenting or posting the harder it gets to do it; the less you feel as though you have anything worth saying. The jury's still out on the last part but there's people I care about that I never meant to not be talking to. That's you, that is.
Still not dead.
Spike's been driving me (and my neighbours) batshit with his cannon-like barking out of the window every time a cat, squirrel, fox or other dog walks past in his field of vision. I finally had a "What Would Blaidd Do" moment and hit on what should have been the blindingly obvious sensible way to break him of the habit. Instead of concentrating on trying to quell him when he barks, reward the hell out of him every time he glances out the window without making a noise. We've now had two days and only one bark. ONE, as opposed to eight or ten twenty-one gun salutes. Fucking awesome.
In other less awesome news, I got up when that one bark happened because if whatever he's barking at is exciting enough he sometimes needs to picked up and carried away from the window before he'll shut up. Only Squish had left an enormous, rock-hard, jagged-edged old marrowbone right in my path and I came down on it hard. My right foot may never be the same again; it's all swollen and purple and I'm scared I might have broken something in it. This isn't the first time this has happened but I don't remember it hurting to put shoes on before.
ah well. if it isn't better in a day or so I'll go get someone to x-ray it. won't that be a jolly jape? Even jollier than trying to deal with an evil collie who can't understand why he's only getting short walks. It's times like this I feel my only regret about being single.
...I'm still reading you all. It's just... you get into a habit of non-communication and it sort of feeds on itself. The longer you go without commenting or posting the harder it gets to do it; the less you feel as though you have anything worth saying. The jury's still out on the last part but there's people I care about that I never meant to not be talking to. That's you, that is.
Spike's been driving me (and my neighbours) batshit with his cannon-like barking out of the window every time a cat, squirrel, fox or other dog walks past in his field of vision. I finally had a "What Would Blaidd Do" moment and hit on what should have been the blindingly obvious sensible way to break him of the habit. Instead of concentrating on trying to quell him when he barks, reward the hell out of him every time he glances out the window without making a noise. We've now had two days and only one bark. ONE, as opposed to eight or ten twenty-one gun salutes. Fucking awesome.
In other less awesome news, I got up when that one bark happened because if whatever he's barking at is exciting enough he sometimes needs to picked up and carried away from the window before he'll shut up. Only Squish had left an enormous, rock-hard, jagged-edged old marrowbone right in my path and I came down on it hard. My right foot may never be the same again; it's all swollen and purple and I'm scared I might have broken something in it. This isn't the first time this has happened but I don't remember it hurting to put shoes on before.
ah well. if it isn't better in a day or so I'll go get someone to x-ray it. won't that be a jolly jape? Even jollier than trying to deal with an evil collie who can't understand why he's only getting short walks. It's times like this I feel my only regret about being single.
...I'm still reading you all. It's just... you get into a habit of non-communication and it sort of feeds on itself. The longer you go without commenting or posting the harder it gets to do it; the less you feel as though you have anything worth saying. The jury's still out on the last part but there's people I care about that I never meant to not be talking to. That's you, that is.
You know, I've worked out what my trouble with Squish is. It's not that he's dumb - far from it. It's not that he's rebellious. It's not that he's batshit insane (he is, but that's not actually a problem). It's not even that he's easily distracted. It's just that his brain, when outdoors, reverts to its default mode of "will only accept input through nose".
The only training aid I really need with that dog is the ability to emit particular odours at will. If I could just master the art of smelling like a squirrel I'd never need to use his long line again.
(he's spent the morning leaping round the flat like a loony trying to catch a fly that came in. I've spent the morning trying to photograph it. I have five or six nice pictures of his tail and one of a blurred white thing that might be a dog.)
The only training aid I really need with that dog is the ability to emit particular odours at will. If I could just master the art of smelling like a squirrel I'd never need to use his long line again.
(he's spent the morning leaping round the flat like a loony trying to catch a fly that came in. I've spent the morning trying to photograph it. I have five or six nice pictures of his tail and one of a blurred white thing that might be a dog.)
Tags:
You know, I've worked out what my trouble with Squish is. It's not that he's dumb - far from it. It's not that he's rebellious. It's not that he's batshit insane (he is, but that's not actually a problem). It's not even that he's easily distracted. It's just that his brain, when outdoors, reverts to its default mode of "will only accept input through nose".
The only training aid I really need with that dog is the ability to emit particular odours at will. If I could just master the art of smelling like a squirrel I'd never need to use his long line again.
(he's spent the morning leaping round the flat like a loony trying to catch a fly that came in. I've spent the morning trying to photograph it. I have five or six nice pictures of his tail and one of a blurred white thing that might be a dog.)
The only training aid I really need with that dog is the ability to emit particular odours at will. If I could just master the art of smelling like a squirrel I'd never need to use his long line again.
(he's spent the morning leaping round the flat like a loony trying to catch a fly that came in. I've spent the morning trying to photograph it. I have five or six nice pictures of his tail and one of a blurred white thing that might be a dog.)
Tags:
OH YAY NEW HARNESS JOY!
You wouldn't believe what a difference it makes to Spike. It's like driving a car with manky old brakes for years and then getting new brakes. But it's not so much about the physical stopping power - although that is noticeably better - as about the change in his behaviour. Harley the Corgi cross came out of her front door and barked at us and all Spike did was glance at her and smile!
The blurb that comes with the harness tells me that "Research at our Animal behaviour Centre shows that the Halti Harness calms a frightened or over stimulated dog by the "body wrap" principle first described by Linda Tellington Jones. A snug fit promotes a sense of body security, making a worried dog a happy dog."
Whether it's that, or whether it's Spike picking up on my relief and positivity (my guess is a bit of both), walking my dogs suddenly got fun again. Happy happy joy joy!
in other dog news,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wirenth posted this extremely interesting dog behaviour survey last night.
( Spike and Squish's results under the cut. )
You wouldn't believe what a difference it makes to Spike. It's like driving a car with manky old brakes for years and then getting new brakes. But it's not so much about the physical stopping power - although that is noticeably better - as about the change in his behaviour. Harley the Corgi cross came out of her front door and barked at us and all Spike did was glance at her and smile!
The blurb that comes with the harness tells me that "Research at our Animal behaviour Centre shows that the Halti Harness calms a frightened or over stimulated dog by the "body wrap" principle first described by Linda Tellington Jones. A snug fit promotes a sense of body security, making a worried dog a happy dog."
Whether it's that, or whether it's Spike picking up on my relief and positivity (my guess is a bit of both), walking my dogs suddenly got fun again. Happy happy joy joy!
in other dog news,
wirenth posted this extremely interesting dog behaviour survey last night. ( Spike and Squish's results under the cut. )
Tags:
OH YAY NEW HARNESS JOY!
You wouldn't believe what a difference it makes to Spike. It's like driving a car with manky old brakes for years and then getting new brakes. But it's not so much about the physical stopping power - although that is noticeably better - as about the change in his behaviour. Harley the Corgi cross came out of her front door and barked at us and all Spike did was glance at her and smile!
The blurb that comes with the harness tells me that "Research at our Animal behaviour Centre shows that the Halti Harness calms a frightened or over stimulated dog by the "body wrap" principle first described by Linda Tellington Jones. A snug fit promotes a sense of body security, making a worried dog a happy dog."
Whether it's that, or whether it's Spike picking up on my relief and positivity (my guess is a bit of both), walking my dogs suddenly got fun again. Happy happy joy joy!
in other dog news,wirenth posted this extremely interesting dog behaviour survey last night.
( Spike and Squish's results under the cut. )
You wouldn't believe what a difference it makes to Spike. It's like driving a car with manky old brakes for years and then getting new brakes. But it's not so much about the physical stopping power - although that is noticeably better - as about the change in his behaviour. Harley the Corgi cross came out of her front door and barked at us and all Spike did was glance at her and smile!
The blurb that comes with the harness tells me that "Research at our Animal behaviour Centre shows that the Halti Harness calms a frightened or over stimulated dog by the "body wrap" principle first described by Linda Tellington Jones. A snug fit promotes a sense of body security, making a worried dog a happy dog."
Whether it's that, or whether it's Spike picking up on my relief and positivity (my guess is a bit of both), walking my dogs suddenly got fun again. Happy happy joy joy!
in other dog news,
wirenth posted this extremely interesting dog behaviour survey last night. ( Spike and Squish's results under the cut. )
Tags:
Am haunted and melancholy at the news that a friend has lost her mother. Her pain is a raw, palpable thing across the Internet and I am, once again, utterly powerless to make any of it go away. All I can do is send love.
*love love love to Mia*
I'm also uncomfortably conscious that one day that will be me. Mum is sixty-four now and she's in the midst of a bad flu (I'm afraid it's the one I brought back from London, so I feel guilty as well). That day is drawing closer. I can't think of it. But I'll be giving her an extra hug when I see her today.
...the dogs and the cat continue to provide a bouncy counterpoint. Spike is being exceptionally obnoxious even by his standards. Recently I've been carrying a tug toy in my coat pocket, to help him let off steam and reduce wear and tear on his leash (which is a fancy-ass double-ended training leash that I'd rather not have to replace just yet). The letting-off of steam is a thing we both enjoy, and I'm also using the opportunity to practise his tugmonster on/off switch. Tugmonster!Spike is an impressive and scary sight. He doesn't do a steady grab-tug, he bounces, shifts his feet, shifts his grip, does sudden wrenches sideways, plays keep-away at breakneck snake-striking speed - and it's even more impressive to see him drop out of that into an alert excited sit on a word. So I don't want to stop the tug games. The trouble is that it's brought out his pushy side, and every time I pause for conversation he tries to pick my pocket or starts bouncing and barking in my face.
I know what I need to do. Calming signals, gentle firmness and more bloody exercise. I've let my arm and Squish's issues (try saying that five times fast) turn into an excuse for being lazy and it's time to stop. When I first got him I discovered he needed at least an hour's running and ball playing a day to be capable of civilised behaviour for the other twenty-three. He's calmer generally now than he was then but his essential nature hasn't changed, and I've been making him bottle it up too long. Time to pull my finger out before it turns into a serious problem.
...but not today, because I'm on my way to the Magistrate's Court to deal with this piece of stupidity.
*love love love to Mia*
I'm also uncomfortably conscious that one day that will be me. Mum is sixty-four now and she's in the midst of a bad flu (I'm afraid it's the one I brought back from London, so I feel guilty as well). That day is drawing closer. I can't think of it. But I'll be giving her an extra hug when I see her today.
...the dogs and the cat continue to provide a bouncy counterpoint. Spike is being exceptionally obnoxious even by his standards. Recently I've been carrying a tug toy in my coat pocket, to help him let off steam and reduce wear and tear on his leash (which is a fancy-ass double-ended training leash that I'd rather not have to replace just yet). The letting-off of steam is a thing we both enjoy, and I'm also using the opportunity to practise his tugmonster on/off switch. Tugmonster!Spike is an impressive and scary sight. He doesn't do a steady grab-tug, he bounces, shifts his feet, shifts his grip, does sudden wrenches sideways, plays keep-away at breakneck snake-striking speed - and it's even more impressive to see him drop out of that into an alert excited sit on a word. So I don't want to stop the tug games. The trouble is that it's brought out his pushy side, and every time I pause for conversation he tries to pick my pocket or starts bouncing and barking in my face.
I know what I need to do. Calming signals, gentle firmness and more bloody exercise. I've let my arm and Squish's issues (try saying that five times fast) turn into an excuse for being lazy and it's time to stop. When I first got him I discovered he needed at least an hour's running and ball playing a day to be capable of civilised behaviour for the other twenty-three. He's calmer generally now than he was then but his essential nature hasn't changed, and I've been making him bottle it up too long. Time to pull my finger out before it turns into a serious problem.
...but not today, because I'm on my way to the Magistrate's Court to deal with this piece of stupidity.
Am haunted and melancholy at the news that a friend has lost her mother. Her pain is a raw, palpable thing across the Internet and I am, once again, utterly powerless to make any of it go away. All I can do is send love.
*love love love to Mia*
I'm also uncomfortably conscious that one day that will be me. Mum is sixty-four now and she's in the midst of a bad flu (I'm afraid it's the one I brought back from London, so I feel guilty as well). That day is drawing closer. I can't think of it. But I'll be giving her an extra hug when I see her today.
...the dogs and the cat continue to provide a bouncy counterpoint. Spike is being exceptionally obnoxious even by his standards. Recently I've been carrying a tug toy in my coat pocket, to help him let off steam and reduce wear and tear on his leash (which is a fancy-ass double-ended training leash that I'd rather not have to replace just yet). The letting-off of steam is a thing we both enjoy, and I'm also using the opportunity to practise his tugmonster on/off switch. Tugmonster!Spike is an impressive and scary sight. He doesn't do a steady grab-tug, he bounces, shifts his feet, shifts his grip, does sudden wrenches sideways, plays keep-away at breakneck snake-striking speed - and it's even more impressive to see him drop out of that into an alert excited sit on a word. So I don't want to stop the tug games. The trouble is that it's brought out his pushy side, and every time I pause for conversation he tries to pick my pocket or starts bouncing and barking in my face.
I know what I need to do. Calming signals, gentle firmness and more bloody exercise. I've let my arm and Squish's issues (try saying that five times fast) turn into an excuse for being lazy and it's time to stop. When I first got him I discovered he needed at least an hour's running and ball playing a day to be capable of civilised behaviour for the other twenty-three. He's calmer generally now than he was then but his essential nature hasn't changed, and I've been making him bottle it up too long. Time to pull my finger out before it turns into a serious problem.
...but not today, because I'm on my way to the Magistrate's Court to deal with this piece of stupidity.
*love love love to Mia*
I'm also uncomfortably conscious that one day that will be me. Mum is sixty-four now and she's in the midst of a bad flu (I'm afraid it's the one I brought back from London, so I feel guilty as well). That day is drawing closer. I can't think of it. But I'll be giving her an extra hug when I see her today.
...the dogs and the cat continue to provide a bouncy counterpoint. Spike is being exceptionally obnoxious even by his standards. Recently I've been carrying a tug toy in my coat pocket, to help him let off steam and reduce wear and tear on his leash (which is a fancy-ass double-ended training leash that I'd rather not have to replace just yet). The letting-off of steam is a thing we both enjoy, and I'm also using the opportunity to practise his tugmonster on/off switch. Tugmonster!Spike is an impressive and scary sight. He doesn't do a steady grab-tug, he bounces, shifts his feet, shifts his grip, does sudden wrenches sideways, plays keep-away at breakneck snake-striking speed - and it's even more impressive to see him drop out of that into an alert excited sit on a word. So I don't want to stop the tug games. The trouble is that it's brought out his pushy side, and every time I pause for conversation he tries to pick my pocket or starts bouncing and barking in my face.
I know what I need to do. Calming signals, gentle firmness and more bloody exercise. I've let my arm and Squish's issues (try saying that five times fast) turn into an excuse for being lazy and it's time to stop. When I first got him I discovered he needed at least an hour's running and ball playing a day to be capable of civilised behaviour for the other twenty-three. He's calmer generally now than he was then but his essential nature hasn't changed, and I've been making him bottle it up too long. Time to pull my finger out before it turns into a serious problem.
...but not today, because I'm on my way to the Magistrate's Court to deal with this piece of stupidity.
So I've been yawning at Spike for two days, and it's split the corner of my mouth. I CAN'T WIN.
( Have I posted this pic yet? FLYING SQUISH EARS OF DOOM! )
( Have I posted this pic yet? FLYING SQUISH EARS OF DOOM! )
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So I've been yawning at Spike for two days, and it's split the corner of my mouth. I CAN'T WIN.
( Have I posted this pic yet? FLYING SQUISH EARS OF DOOM! )
( Have I posted this pic yet? FLYING SQUISH EARS OF DOOM! )
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