Milkbones
Anyone who knows the real me knows I have a special Fondness for animals and dogs in particular. I am delighted to report that my dream of owning a little house dog has become a reality. Her name is Lady Cleo, and she is the same little dog for whom I had “dogsat” several months ago. Things didn’t work out for her former owner, and I have become the lucky new owner. She is a long-haired Chihuahua aka a “teacup” Chihuahua. She stands roughly nine inches high and is roughly twelve inches long. She is only five months old, but I don’t expect her to get much larger.
The Deal is that Sharon will help pay for her supplies and upkeep if she doesn’t have to clean up any dog poo. Sharon, by nature, is not nearly as fond of little animals as I am, but fortunately for me, Cleo was so sweet when we had taken care of her before, that Sharon didn’t put up much of a fight at all when Cleo became available.
Cleo spends her days under my bed while I am at work and at school. Sharon stops in after her classes to take her out to do her duty. At the suggestion of a coworker, I had started out by leaving her in a playpen all day. After several days of that, I graduated her to staying in my bedroom, and I am happy to report that in the month since we’ve had her, she has had only one unfortunate mishap. She doesn’t know yet how to tell me when she needs to go, so I still have to play the part of the Great Predictor.
We were closed today at work in observance of New Year’s Day. I welcomed the opportunity to go to work for once when there would be no disturbances or interruptions. And because no one else would be there, I declared today a “mother-daughter” day and took Cleo with me. We had a jolly time too just enjoying each other’s company.
Now many days prior to today, when I had taken our deposit to the bank, I had noticed a big box of milkbones for dogs sitting there at the window. And I always thought that that to give all the little doggies a milkbone was such a lovely idea. I well remember the days of going through the drive-through with mom and getting either a balloon or a sucker. In fact, we would drape ourselves over the seat and make a point of smiling at the teller in order to make sure we were Noticed.
So as it happened, the last thing on the agenda for today was to take the deposit to the bank. And on the way there, I happened to remember that Box of Milkbones. And I felt the old, familiar anticipation of getting a treat at the bank window begin to creep into my very bones.
I strategically chose my lane. Even though I suspected “the tube lane” to be faster, I went to the one closest to the window because I feared little Cleo was too little to be seen at a distance. And sure enough. I had picked the Slow Lane. It was so slow, in fact, that I think at least two other cars went through the tube lane before it was finally my turn to advance in “the drawer lane.”
Oh, but I played it cool alright. I made it a point of not “begging” (just like Mom had told us long ago) by acting totally oblivious to the Box of Milkbones sitting there at the window. I nonchalantly gazed at the traffic going by on the street while the teller did her thing. Will she? Will she not? Will she? This was my dog’s first visit to the bank. Surely she would be kind to such a cute little doggie. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her finish up, and sure enough, I heard the small “thunk” of what must be a milkbone. But I kept up the game. “Thank you,” I told her in my usual manner before I could even see into the drawer and began making the motions of gathering up my receipt before I went on my way. What is this?? OH. A milkbone for my doggie?! “Why, thank you!” I said again to the teller, smiling broadly. We had been noticed. The treat was ours!
As soon as we were on the road again, I gave the bone to Cleo; oddly enough, she wanted to do nothing more with it than try to push it off my lap onto the floor. She doesn’t know about things like treats at the bank. It appears we still have a lot of training left to do.
The Deal is that Sharon will help pay for her supplies and upkeep if she doesn’t have to clean up any dog poo. Sharon, by nature, is not nearly as fond of little animals as I am, but fortunately for me, Cleo was so sweet when we had taken care of her before, that Sharon didn’t put up much of a fight at all when Cleo became available.
Cleo spends her days under my bed while I am at work and at school. Sharon stops in after her classes to take her out to do her duty. At the suggestion of a coworker, I had started out by leaving her in a playpen all day. After several days of that, I graduated her to staying in my bedroom, and I am happy to report that in the month since we’ve had her, she has had only one unfortunate mishap. She doesn’t know yet how to tell me when she needs to go, so I still have to play the part of the Great Predictor.
We were closed today at work in observance of New Year’s Day. I welcomed the opportunity to go to work for once when there would be no disturbances or interruptions. And because no one else would be there, I declared today a “mother-daughter” day and took Cleo with me. We had a jolly time too just enjoying each other’s company.
Now many days prior to today, when I had taken our deposit to the bank, I had noticed a big box of milkbones for dogs sitting there at the window. And I always thought that that to give all the little doggies a milkbone was such a lovely idea. I well remember the days of going through the drive-through with mom and getting either a balloon or a sucker. In fact, we would drape ourselves over the seat and make a point of smiling at the teller in order to make sure we were Noticed.
So as it happened, the last thing on the agenda for today was to take the deposit to the bank. And on the way there, I happened to remember that Box of Milkbones. And I felt the old, familiar anticipation of getting a treat at the bank window begin to creep into my very bones.
I strategically chose my lane. Even though I suspected “the tube lane” to be faster, I went to the one closest to the window because I feared little Cleo was too little to be seen at a distance. And sure enough. I had picked the Slow Lane. It was so slow, in fact, that I think at least two other cars went through the tube lane before it was finally my turn to advance in “the drawer lane.”
Oh, but I played it cool alright. I made it a point of not “begging” (just like Mom had told us long ago) by acting totally oblivious to the Box of Milkbones sitting there at the window. I nonchalantly gazed at the traffic going by on the street while the teller did her thing. Will she? Will she not? Will she? This was my dog’s first visit to the bank. Surely she would be kind to such a cute little doggie. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her finish up, and sure enough, I heard the small “thunk” of what must be a milkbone. But I kept up the game. “Thank you,” I told her in my usual manner before I could even see into the drawer and began making the motions of gathering up my receipt before I went on my way. What is this?? OH. A milkbone for my doggie?! “Why, thank you!” I said again to the teller, smiling broadly. We had been noticed. The treat was ours!
As soon as we were on the road again, I gave the bone to Cleo; oddly enough, she wanted to do nothing more with it than try to push it off my lap onto the floor. She doesn’t know about things like treats at the bank. It appears we still have a lot of training left to do.
posted by Kris at 12/30/2005 10:31:00 PM
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