Every evening after work I take my old dogs for a walk. Our routine goes something like this. They meet me at the door, tails wagging, overjoyed to see me, the source of all good things to eat. I give them each a dog treat while I put away things I'm carrying and glance at the mail. Then I go upstairs to my loft bedroom to change from work clothes to blue jeans. My malamute follows me upstairs talking to me constantly. The older dog, Kiska, stays downstairs in the kitchen, she doesn't do stairs anymore. After I change we return to the kitchen, I put on a hat and coat and out the kitchen door we excitedly explode to go for our walk.
Last night I was delayed in the kitchen by some mail that I took the time to read. The malamute, Shadow, was dancing around talking to me but I was ignoring him. Suddenly he stopped harrassing me and bolded for the stairs. He ran up the stairs and waited about 20 seconds. Then he ran back down the stairs, bounced into the kitchen talking excitedly and poking me with his nose. With his toenails clicking loudly on the laminate floor, he scrambled around and headed back up the stairs, waited a few seconds and then came looking for me again. The third time it finally sunk into my distracted brain what he was doing. So while praising him for being so smart and being a "good boy" the fourth time I let him lead me upstairs where I changed clothes as fast as humanly possible and raced him downstairs and out the kitchen door for thier walk.
No comments:
Post a Comment