Discipline and Training, Part 1 - "The Enforcer"

*In the next series of posts, I'll be providing insights as to the discipline and training situation in our family. Or lack of discipline...*

There's no real "Enforcer" in our family. I think we'd all like to say that we are, but let's be honest. Can you always practice tough love with something that outrageously adorable? Yet it's very interesting to see how we each handle Hobbes misbehavior in our individual way.

Let's start with Mom. She's the one who's developed a reputation. Sort of.

Hobbes and Dad have developed a nightly ritual. Dad goes in to bed around 10:30, and about 10:40, Hobbes bursts into my parent's bedroom, demanding attention. Since Dad isn't asleep yet, he brings Hobbes up onto the bed, with the idea that they'll have some nice cuddle time.

Hobbes, of course, has a completely different idea.

This idea involves spazzing out in the bed, running in circles, barking as loud as possible, and general horseplay with Dad. Which Dad, of course, doesn't mind.

The other two members of the family who are also getting ready to go to bed on the other hand...

Eventually, Mom has enough of this. She gets up to go take Hobbes off the bed and get him settled down before bed.

Hobbes has figured out that she'll always do this.

Just as soon as Mom gets up out of the chair, all noise from the bedroom ceases. When you get in there, Hobbes is curled up, sometimes on the opposite side of the bed, acting like a complete angel.

The fact that the giant satellite ears have picked up on the association between the chair squeak and Mom entering the room never ceases to provide amusement to the family. Even if he is a little trouble maker.

Tune in next time for Part 2 - "The Football Player"

Wood Chips

On June 21, Hobbes and I made a very interesting discovery. Wood chips are not good for dogs to eat.

I believe this discovery had much more of an impact on me than on Hobbes.

Since I was the parent/guardian of Hobbes that day, I found it incredibly disturbing when he decided to get sick twice in the morning. I thought that maybe he had an upset stomach for whatever reason, so I let Mom know, just in case it was of significance, and kept an eye on him. Usually he'll just sleep it off whenever he's not feeling well.

Then, not to long after that, he started getting sick again. Thankfully I caught him this time so he only messed up his bed instead of the newly cleaned rug he hit the first time (I swear that dogs have a sixth sense for anything that's been recently cleaned). Now I'm starting to get concerned. This is way out of the bounds of normal, even for a sick puppy.

Then, I discovered that he's...brought back up....a wood chip. Lovely.

This results in a mildly frantic call to the vet, and a very frantic car ride to the vet's office. During the car ride, Hobbes is bouncing all over the place - front seat, back seat, everywhere. Acting like everything is 100% normal. It's more than a bit annoying, since in my mind I'm having visions of a wood chip causing damage to his esophagus and dying a painful death. Doesn't he realize how serious this is??

After a brief physical examination by the vet, it's decided that Hobbes has naturally taken care of the problem all by himself. She prescribed a little bread and water in about an hour, just to see if he'll keep it down.

Despite all this stress and worry, Hobbes still tries to grab wood chips out of our garden. Ah, the joys of a 5 month old puppy!

Sleeping, Part 1

If you've never had a pet, then you probably don't understand this.But it's so true. Especially our cute furball. I think Hobbes could be a yoga instructor.

http://www.survivingtheworld.net/Lesson987.html

How To Talk Like A Corgi

This is very accurate!!

The Tennis Ball Not Chased

My sincerest apologies to Robert Frost.

Two tennis balls diverged in a living room,
And sorry I could not chase both
And be one chaser, long I stood
And stared down one as far as I could
To where it laid in the hallway.

Then took the other, as just as yellow,
And having perhaps the better squeaker,
Because it was much newer and wanted wear;
Though as for that the Corgi there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
With outsides no dog had yet slobbered on.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I decided to bring both of them back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two tennis balls diverged in a living room, and I--
I took one in my mouth and one with my paw,
And that has made all the difference.


Yes, my dog has figured out how to bring two tennis balls back at once. I'm so proud! Of my dog, not this poem.

Enthusiasm

(The lack of posts has been due to a lack of well-being by the author, not the puppy)

One of the traits about Hobbes that keeps surprising me in his enthusiasm for, well, almost anything. Anything except a bath. More to follow on that...

Every time one of "the herd" comes back into sight, Hobbes is so filled with joy that he can't contain himself. It doesn't matter if you were gone all day, or if you just went upstairs for a half hour. His little stub of a tail starts twitching as fast as possible and he's ready to welcome you with lots of doggy kisses. It blows my mind.

Hobbes spends all day with me. I almost never let him out of my sight. Yet if I go someplace in the evening, after spending all day with him, he still welcomes me back like he hasn't seen me in 15 years and his world was about to end if I didn't walk through that door that second. It doesn't matter that I'm the mean one who doesn't let him tear up the trash, or that he spends 5-6 hours a day with just me - he's still excited to see me! He's never gotten so bored that he fails to greet me.

It really is something special to be loved by a dog!

On a Hot Day in May

One of the most difficult questions I've ever faced: what are you supposed to do with a puppy who needs exercise when it's 85 degrees outside?

When it was his self-declared nap time (which ended up being most of the day), I tried putting a fan on the floor to give him a little breeze. This, as with most new things, bothered Hobbes. He did everything he could to move out of the direction of the blowing air. This chiefly meant hiding behind a chair, but eventually he wanted to sleep near where I was studying, so he scooted partially under the couch, just missing the edge of the breeze. Apparently he likes being hot.

When it was his owner's declared outside playtime, a large, under the bed tupperware container (recently brought back from college), was transformed into a Corgi wading pool. I have never seen a dog chase after waves he's created, but Hobbes will spin himself in circles trying to bite the water. He only ends up drinking water.

For a change, I brought out the giant ball, or "The Enemy" as I've decided to call it. Since Corgis are herding dogs, and I don't generally enjoyed being herded, we bought Hobbes one of the giant slightly-bouncy balls from Target. He knows what to do as soon as he sees it. He started growling, and as soon as it was put on the grass, turned into a crazed herding dog, chasing that ball all over the yard.

When I got bored of watching him do that (since playtime is really supposed to be for my enjoyment, of course), it was time to add a variation to "The Enemy". "The Enemy" went into "The Pool". This caused much distress. Hobbes doesn't like to go into "The Pool" for extended periods of time, and he couldn't push "The Enemy" around due to the sides. So he ran around the pool, biting at the ball until he finally gave up, jumped in, knocked it out, and proceeded to chase it over the lawn.

The outside amusement for the day complete, it was time to come inside, dry off, and avoid the gentle breeze of the fan.