Oh Where Oh Where Has My Little Dawg Gone It!

SparkyBear, from the first day we laid eyes on him,has always been a brave adventurer-brat. When we traveled to Mississippi to pick out our new "Bee-shee Baby", we wanted to make sure not to get a puppy who would be scared of the world and cower over every little thing. We had seen on television, a couple of tests anyone can do to 'test' puppies, so we decided to try a couple of these things on the unsuspecting babies. We sat on the floor, amidst a cloud of fluffy white powder puffs who were waddling and wiggling all around us, merrily jumping up on us; every one of them cute as buttons, and hard to tell one from another. We had the breeder separate us from the herd and bring us one of them at a time. One of them kept being more outgoing and 'in our face' than the rest, and I suspect now, that it was our 'boy'. With each of them, I tossed my big wad of car keys over onto the floor near them. Sure enough, a couple of them whined and cowered away and sat huddled near the gate shaking. Most of the eight of them, just jumped back or ran away then came back curious. The one we brought home was the one, when the keys were clanged hard onto the floor near him, ran over to them and picked them up and 'took off' with them.

He's still like that...brave, head-strong, opinionated, and mischievious. Even tho we took him to doggie school, he only obeys when he wants to. We think that the only reason they 'graduated' him was because of the 'no Chow-chow left behind' policy, even tho he's a Bichon. In essence, we had paid for his 'education'; he'd been there for every class; so they stuck the graduation hat on his head and washed their hands of the whole deal from that point. It was all they could do with him. Well, we love the brat anyhow. He does what he wants to do, and wouldn't come when we called, so it was because of him that we put the Invisible Fence around our yard. From past posts, you've seen pictures or heard the stories about his misadventures; rolling down the SUV window and jumping out in traffic; ferreting stuff off the countertop in the bathroom and I stepped into it, in my bare feet in the dark; bringing my pencils to MarkyBear, who is too fat to jump up and get them off my computer desk, so MarkyBear would get into trouble; doing a "Show down at the OK Corral" stance in front of me, walking slowly...very, very slowly toward me, and I walk very, very slowly toward him, til he gets only so close, then runs and jumps up on me 'laughing' and barking; claiming any shipping box that comes into the house, as his own...getting his head stuck in some of them.
Monday I was in a rush. I had just come home from Thibodaux, having 'made' the groceries. (Down here in South Louisiana, going shopping for groceries is called 'making the groceries'. Putting them away is called 'saving the groceries'.) Whenever I'm getting ready to go shopping, the dogs want to go to, but if they can't go, I tell them, "I'm going to the store, and I'll bring you back some chicken." When they hear that, they both walk together to the couch and 'assume the position'...curl up in a ball and begin waiting for me to come home...with their CHICKEN!!!
Monday night around five o'clock I pulled in WITH, of course, 'theirchicken'. I have choir practice with my accordian at 5:45, so I was really, really rushed. I was running around putting frozen things into the freezer, put the meat in the fridge, ran looking for produce to stick in there, too. Dashed out to the SUV to fetch more groceries, put my music bags and accordian in the SUV, stumbled over drooling dawgs, who were still waiting for their CHICKEN!!! Put a few cans away quickly, closed the refrigerator, which was ajar; I said ...closed the refrigerator which had been ajar....dang...something was jammed in there...but I was RUSHED, so I gave it a harder shove, when one of the dogs behind me growled. I looked to see who was growling, but didn't see any of them. I shoved at the door again, and one of the dogs growled again...nobody behind me....what the heck? I thought, "Ok, then...calm down, Peg...what did you carelessly toss into the fridge and is now blocking the door?" I opened the door a crack, so that whatever it was wouldn't fall out and smash onto the floor...HUH? What is THAT?? I flung the door open, and SparkyBear, looking annoyed, glared out at me from amongst the lettuce and apples, where he was somehow jammed in and twisted, snooping around for the chicken. I know that dog. The look on his face was like, "Whadda ya stupid?? Tryna shut me in here??"
I tried to shame him...."Get out Get out Get out...you'll get your chicken when you get your chicken...IF you get any chicken now". Sheesh, and Cappy and I didn't want cats, cuz they climb up on the kitchen countertops. When we first got the dogs, Cappy said he knew a guy who has a dog who actually fetches bottles of beer for him, so maybe we could teach SparkyBear to open the fridge and bring him a cold bottle of beer. Good luck with that one, Honey...."a bottle of beer for you...a hunk of chicken for me...a bottle of beer for you...a stick of butter for me..."
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