Took Pip in his crate to puppy school this morning.
|Pip and his dreaded crate|
Even though I put a big juicy bone in the crate, he still hated it and started barking on the Wallington Road. A barking dog inside a car is an ear-splitting experience. Resorted to baby strategies and started singing.
Started with ‘How much is that doggie?’, then when he started whining, made up a bastardised version of ‘Don’t cry for me Argentina’
Don’t cry for me dearest Pippo
You know the truth is I always loved you
All through your pup days
Your mad existence
I kept on singing
Givin' you dog biscuits...
Ok, so it needs work! Anyway, I’m singing away and then I smelt the terrible smell. Oh God, I thought, he’s pooed in the crate again. It really is like going back to baby days.
Got to puppy school and discovered that the foul smell must have been a doggie fart – phew! Pip bounded in greeting Ruth as if she was his long-lost grandmother who fed him constant bits of gravy beef – which is not that far from the truth.
He was incredibly hyper but Ruth managed to calm him down, getting him to sit several times with the aid of the beef.
Did some revision and also learnt ‘drop’ which involves getting him to lie flat on his tummy (tricky) and ‘heel’ which is much easier. Pip is a very fast learner. It’s amazing what a dog will do for a skerrick of meat. Once he’d mastered the drop, he started dropping even before the command because he knew that was the path to treat nirvana!
Am now being entertained by the sound of contentment - his bone clunking on the back deck.