i believe in dog

we had a busy easter with lots of visitors, which temporarily removed my mind, it seems. i would take sam for walks and forget a "scoopy doo" bag. i was in danger of embarassing myself, my dog and dog owners everywhere by becoming one of those people, the ones who don't clean up after their dogs.

halfway through one of these walks i realised my predicament, and started praying to the big dog in the sky that sam wouldn't need to poo on this walk. especially since i knew he had a slightly upset tummy from adventurous treats given by guests.

sam did, of course, need to poo. but a miracle happened. he did it straight over a sewer grate. there were four little plops... and our honour was saved.

the photo: 'Wuff by Zickie on flickr.

in training

we have put various schemes into practice in order to become better dogs and owners (let who is what be endlessly debated by philosophers scholars). first, a most enjoyable training session: sitting by the river enjoying coffee and easter choklit while sam practised being good in the fenced-in part of the garden. he was very good, with no jumping onto the fence at all, and only a few pawings at the gate. this good behaviour was probably helped by the fact that one of the trainers was the great leader himself.

then, another session today where sam was supposed to be nice and quiet indoors while mom and daughter spent some time out front. he was quite calm, neither barking nor howling. unfortunately, though, i hadn't shut the door between corridor and living room, so sam soon went into that inviting room with its bay window. i realised something was wrong when i heard a thump and saw a huge dog leaning against the glass. amazingly, the potted plants and sewing machine which live in the window were still standing -- sam has become more dainty, possibly learnt from my daughter, possibly not.

but we aren't the only ones being trainers! sam must have sniffed out news about weave poles, because that's what he started practising with me in the thicket today. sam wove between the trees, and i unwove his long lead behind him. fun was had by some.

there's no such thing as a good dog

when i said sam hadn't done any mischief lately, i was of course being amnesiac. i guess since his latest antics haven't left visible scars, they're more likely to be forgotten.

item number one: daughter and i bought a nice, crisp, tasty loaf of bread in town. we came home to madhappydog and were amused at his antics. i was putting away the shopping when she said, bemusedly: "he took the parcel!" i went upstairs to his hideout to see what "parcel" the dog had been stealing, but only saw the usual scattered paper bags. i went down again to look for the bread in its white paper bag. in vain. that's when i realised the true meaning of "parcel".

item number two: my mother, not presently used to dogs or toddler in her home life, had left some pills on the stairs in order to take them up into the bathroom later. sam found them out and helped her take them upstairs. he even helpfully opened the box and started crushing one of the pills. fortunately, it seems they didn't have a very nice taste, because he didn't eat them all up. from now on, i'll be leaving all his medicine in enticing places.

i think that's all for the moment. but yon sam hath a mean and hungry look... i'd better be on the lookout.

an hour later: sam just tried to eat a wet wipe which had been used in the snot-wiping business. however, i was on the lookout, and he only got half of it.

good times

well, sam has spent the last few days being mostly good, meaning there is little to put in the blog. he seems intent on becoming a proper lapdog, putting as much of himself as he can fit in my lap, licking my face and nuzzling the keyboard and the books lying next to it. perhaps he is trying to be as much of a cat as possible, in order to prevent us from getting one which will terrorise him?

we have had house guests -- a family friend and my parents -- and the dog was chuffed when the house was full of people. and him safely ensconced in the middle.

we have also met the inquisition -- a representative from the RSPCA who called to see how we were treating our stray. we got top marks on everything except tagging -- we bought a name tag which he destroyed after a day, and didn't bother with a replacement -- and leaving, which, we were told, must not involve tying him up. we felt like naughty doggies hearing this, but have decided to cease and desist, and are therefore to be considered good doggies again.