Doggy Blinders

In case you haven't heard...or I haven't written about it enough...I have a dog. She's a beautiful 80 pound, eight--almost nine year-old chocolate lab named Sage. Some of Sage's favorite things are fetch (she would play it for hours if I didn't get tired of it before her), all forms of water except for baths -- I can't understand that one, and squirrels. You just need to say the word "squirrel" and her ears perk up and she runs outside whining and runs to all of the places in the backyard she has seen the little critters. It's not that she wants to catch them, I honestly think she's just curious.

Another one of Sage's favorite things are treats. She has me, her human, so well trained that instead of a spare change compartment  in my car, I have a treat compartment that, if I leave her in the car and forget to close the lid all the way, she'll nose it open and gorge herself on the tasty vittles -- that's right, I just used the word vittles. I think that's the first time I've ever been able to write that word...and I did it twice! Annnnd we're back! I'm so well trained by my dog that I've learned to have blinders on in one area that Sage is concerned. I've gotten in the habit of putting a treat on my bed before we head downstairs in the morning to finish my preparations for the day. Sage has learned that when I go into the bathroom off the kitchen, I'll be a little bit as I put my hair up, put on makeup, and brush my teeth. Due to this extended period of time when she doesn't have to worry about me leaving without her knowing, Sage has also gotten into the habit of sneaking upstairs and eating the treat off the bed, then coming back downstairs and looking all innocent by the back door. This whole situation cracks me up because she pretends like she hasn't already had a treat and I pretend I don't know she's eating the treat before I leave the house.

The moral of the story? I don't have one, you can apply it however you'd like. Just thought I'd share!