For the longest time, everyone has been asking, "Who's a good boy?"... well, it turns out, I am! Ok, maybe only sometimes. But lately, I've been getting lots of "good boy" praise, and many cookies. Yes, there are still times where I can lose my mind, and get into trouble - like the time I raced around the yard like the Tasmanian Devil, tearing out Christine's puny little plants.
Turns out they don't like it when I do that... they replanted them and I pulled them back out anyways. And sometimes, I find that I just need to do something, and so I push the limits of what I am allowed (and not allowed) to do.
Let's take this for example. I found out that I am
not allowed to take the placemats off the table. But once I am caught and I get the "leave-it" command, I usually relinquish my prize to them. I've learned other things too, like "hurry-up" to get me to go pee before we go to bed for the evening. I think the one that makes these humans happiest, is "no-bite" - for whatever reason, they don't like it when I gnaw on their arms/legs/hands/feet.
Anyhow, being a "good boy" is a lot better than getting sprayed in the nose with that smelly stuff!
Buddy
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