Over the weekend, Morgan had a few instances of being her nuttier than usual self. With the weather getting nicer, we have the house open more, which means that Homeland Security must be even more vigilant to keep out pesky invaders like June bugs, flies and any other home invaders. On top of that, Kuster had a brief bout with an upset stomach last week and decided that he needed to go out more often than usual, including at night. It’s the first time he’s been sick and Mr. Taleteller may have been a tad more concerned than he might otherwise normally be.
Kuster and Morgan developed a sort of scheme where Kuster would get up and fuss to go out. When you have a puppy with the Big D, you don’t risk rolling over and telling him to hold it until morning. You get up and march his furry backside out to the yard every time he starts to fuss. Soon, the trouble passes and you expect to go back to life as normal.
A certain adorable black puppy might decide that he doesn’t want to go back to the old routine, though. He might decide that he likes having his dad sleep on the couch beside his crate at night. When his dad begins to wise up and realize that his puppy is training him, he might try to resist this alteration in the routine and go back to rolling over in bed and ignoring a noisy puppy.
The problem is, Morgan knows that if Kuster gets up, the day is starting. If Kuster can’t raise Mr. Taleteller from the land of Winken, Blinken and Nod, then Morgan decides to take matters into her own paws. She will pace, pant, poke, paw and pester until my husband gives in and crawls out of bed, mumbling about oh dark thirty and lousy Shepherds on his way out of the bedroom.
Needless to say, Mr. Taleteller has been less than appreciative of their new team collaboration. He’s feeling more than a little sleep deprived and they decided to get him up early on Saturday, too. Saturday evening, we were watching television when Morgan decided that she needed to go out. Of course, it was a dire emergency. At least, that’s what she leads you to believe until you head out that back door and feel one arm grow a foot longer as she goes after Old One Eye, the stupid rabbit who just won’t leave our yard, despite being a one-eyed rabbit in a yard of predators.
Mr. Taleteller: You don’t really have to go out. You’re just going to have to wait!
Morgan: I can’t wait! I need to go out NOW!
Mr. Taleteller: You’re only three years old. You’re young and healthy. You can hold it!
Morgan: Must go out! Must go out! Must go out!
Me: You might as well just take her out. It’s almost bedtime…
Mr. Taleteller: I am not taking her out right this minute!
Morgan: Oh yes you are!
Mr. Taleteller: Listen, Ex Lax and Cracker Head… I’m NOT taking you out!
That’s when Morgan looked him in the eye and then bit the end of his nose. I am a horrible person because I sat across the room and laughed until I cried. Actually, after the shock wore off, my husband laughed about it, too. He knew she was serious about going out but he kept teasing her. She made her point in the only way she had left that would preserve her dignity. If she could have led him outside by the nose, I feel relatively certain that she would have.
The funniest part was that she looked absolutely baffled about why we were laughing and still sitting there not taking her out. She came back over to the chair and hubby hopped up and took her out, grumbling again. Morgan’s point was made.
I’m not sure if Morgan or Kuster is going to prove better at training him. I’m sure both of them will be better than I am. After all, I can’t get away with biting his nose when he doesn’t listen to me. I’m not sure if talking until someone listens like Kuster does is better than taking action when you see it needs to be done like Morgan does. In the end, it might require a bit of both. I guess I need to carry a bit of both of them in me to get results at times.
