Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Oh happy day!

For those of you not interested in dogs, this would be a good entry to skip.

Many of you have followed our trials with Samson, and it has seemed some days like two steps forward, and maybe 1 or 1 1/2 back. He has an affinity for socks and we have lost a couple. We are working hard at keeping the basement door closed (laundry) and the bedroom doors closed(other good smelling stuff) but once in a while, I slip and we lose an undergarment of some kind. ;) We also have to watch the Christmas decorations as he is VERY interested in those as well. We have cut way back on the holiday decor as it is much too tempting for him. :o

Last night, we were sitting around the TV watching the hockey game and LO AND BEHOLD, our dog, Samson, the one who HATES CRATES, walked, ON HIS OWN, into the crate. And turned around in it. And plopped down to sleep. ON HIS OWN!! Did I mention ON HIS OWN?? I was doing the happy dance, jumping up and down, shouting with glee, all in my mind. He pieced it together - the crate is a GOOD thing, a safe place, his bed, his comfort, his storage for toys. OH HAPPY DAY!

(Small translation for my non-furry family member friends - this means, in simplistic terms, that Samson no longer sees the crate as transport to another shelter/bad place rather, a good thing, another place where good things happen. This will aid us tremendously with travel to our training classes. Howling for a 30 minute drive could get VERY old)

I know that he was very tired...didn't have much of a nap yesterday, and desperately wanted to go to sleep. Big steps and oh joy, the happy dance! Woo hoo!!


Lisa said...

Sammy's affinity for finding mischief reminds me a lot of Rex. He had a passion for Katie's crayons and could pick them out of the box with very little effort. Often we didn't realize they were missing until we found the wrapper in his crate, or happened upon the remnants while on poop duty! Yuck!! He was also fond of day old underwear and the sweaty inside of a freshly worn shoe. He got a crack at a couple poopy diapers, as well, but I must have been hyper-vigilent about keeping warm baby steamers out of his reach. He really never gave Katie the time of day unless she was eating. Any savory morsal caused him to loose all sense and sensibility. One afternoon, while we were still living in Oliver Woods, I came home for lunch to find him stranded on the dining room table. Who knows what possessed him to get up there other than some misplaced hope there might be edibles, but he couldn't figure out how to get down. I have no idea how many hours he sat up there contemplating his quagmire. Actually, he was blissfully sort of dopey, so it probably never phased him.

I love the Sammy stories. Keep 'em coming and good luck with the trainer this weekend.


Paul's Blog said...

I like your comment: "... warm baby steamers." Now that is a visual!