Hello and welcome to my Monday post. On Mondays, I share some of my life with you. Today, I want to introduce you to my naughty little dog called Scout.
Most of the neighbourhood cats are bigger than Scout, although they don’t make nearly as much noise. We adopted her from a rescue centre when she was a pup. That’s where she was born, so no one has any idea what her dad looked like. Scout is a mini foxy crossed with – who knows, maybe half the park.
I had all these high intentions to train her well, but it’s obvious to me now that she had the same idea. All I managed was to get her to sit, and then only when I dangle a treat above her nose. She works on a strict no-treat-no-trick basis. However, her plans were far more fruitful.
She managed to train us in innumerable ways. She only has to raise her paw and point to the back door and we rush to open it. The same goes for her cupboard in the hall where all her toys and old bones are kept. She has a particular bark for ‘follow me’ and I’m ashamed to say we all obey. When her dinner hour arrives (somehow she knows exactly when it is) she lets out a distinctive yelp. It’s her version of a dinner gong. And when someone is eating something she’d like to try, we get the old wet-nose-on-the-leg trick.
She’s used to being taken out and about and she certainly has her favourite cafe’s. Actually, all the cafe’s we go to are her favourites. They are her ‘go-to’ places when ever we go for a walk. She should be dragging me to the park but no, instead she pulls me towards the cafe’s and then plants her bum down on the pavement and sulks for a minute or two if I decide to walk on.
There is nothing, nothing dumb about dogs.