Beach Dog

Water? Who cares? Where’s my ball?

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WHO’S IN CHARGE?

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Does that look seem devilish to you? What a night. Most evenings Chewy goes obediently to sleep in his bed next to mine and early in the morning I invite him to join me for a snuggle and another hour of sleep. My error last night was bringing home a package of tennis balls. I knew he would go crazy for them, but his fervor included stealing the package off the coffee table and running away from me as I tried to retrieve it. I finally got the package from him, opened it and gave him one ball. He spent the rest of the evening tearing it apart, demanding that I throw it or try to get it away from him, and for rest periods in between all of this activity, barking at the remaining balls I had placed on a high shelf above the TV.

I should have known that bedtime would be a challenge. He was still in play mode. And he wanted to be up on the bed with me and his ball. Not clear which he loves most. He was so hyper, I put him on the bed to calm him down. He promptly went to sleep, but a couple of hours later, when I tried to move him to his bed, he made it clear that was not OK. First he did his usually growling and low barking at me to inform me he wanted up on the bed. I tried verbal signals. I tried ignoring him. After fifteen minutes he took his barking outside, insuring that, in consideration of my neighbors, I would come running to get him back into the house. I then locked him in the bedroom with me, but he continued to growl and bark for a good twenty minutes more. He finally went to sleep in his bed, his ball right next to him. I had been awake for an hour.

This morning would have been a good one to sleep in for a bit, but Chewy was awake around 6 a.m. I invited him up onto the bed, and he came, but immediately jumped down to get his ball. So I put him and the ball on the bed, hoping he would settle down. No such luck. Much chewing and jumping around followed as he tried to skin the ball. I finally threw it off the bed, knowing he would follow. Foolishly, I hoped he’d play by himself and let me sleep. No, he was back with the ball, standing next to the bed and growling, letting me know he wanted up with his precious toy. I finally gave up, got up, made my morning latte and settled in with the newspaper. The house became very quiet. There’s Chewy, curled up on his favorite chair, sound asleep. Oh the joys of being a dog mommy!