I read in the Art Of Raising A Puppy, that puppies don’t do things to please you. They do things because they like how they feel when you praise them. They keep doing things you ask because they want to feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I mean have you ever seen a puppy lie on his back so you can rub his belly? Super cute and they know it plus it feels great to them.
Munson doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. I have to trick him into thinking he wants to go back in his house and if you trick him enough times it becomes a habit. Kind of like with kids. And spouses.
He tells me when he wants to eat even though I put the food out and take it away after it sat there and he hadn’t touched it. He pretty much looks at me and says, “lady, you can’t make me.” And he’s right.
He barks to let me know his ball rolled under the couch and then looks at me like, “well, you moving to get my ball, or what?” Who’s raising this over-indulged furry monster?
Let me tell you what I like about Munson, though. When I walk in the door he charges from wherever he his, even if he’s napping, and greets me with a hardy hello. No one else in my house does that. He runs around my legs, forgetting he’s 70 pounds and not 14, practically knocking me over. All that spinning in circles is probably a ruse to knock me over so he can lick my face which he knows I don’t love, but he does.
But here’s my favorite thing about Munson, don’t let a stranger come near his family. He goes from being our cute, silly, self-centered puppy to a full-blown German shepherd on a mission. His fur stands up, his tail curls toward the sky, he growls under his breath and then barks deep and loud and long. He scared the living day lights out of the painter the other day. Poor guy.
I wonder if this “life in the key of me” business will ever end with Munson. Or will he some day simply lift his head and sniff in my direction when I walk in as if to say, “oh, you again. Rub my belly.”
Will he pack his bags and go off to college forgetting about all the treats I gave him? Forgetting about all the fun times we had running in the yard chasing balls? Probably. But until then I’ll just have to try and enjoy the occasional face lick.