A New Trick

A short story about my dog today.

Snickers is a five year-old, tri-color rat terrier that my family bought from a breeder when he was newborn. At the ripe, old age of five weeks, he was the size of my hand and just barely old enough to leave his mother. The breeder, anxious to make the sale, brought him to a midway meeting point about forty five minutes from either of our homes. My husband drove. I paid the breeder. Anne held Snickers in her lap and comforted him all the way home.

Five years later, my hubby is gone and Snickers is the little man of the family. We live with my parents and my dad, of course, is the biggest dog amongst us. He is the "alpha male." Snickers, though, is the only other resident male in the pack. Not only that, but he gets to sleep on my bed and I have been his pack leader for his entire life. Therefore, Snickers knows that he has enough authority to exercise control.

Side Note: Although Snickers is big stuff in a little dog body, I fortunately do NOT have to worry about him trying to hump my leg. He was cured of that doggy-tendency during his infancy with two words from the rumbling, male voice of my then mate, "Snickers, NO!" It worked like magic. End of humping my leg for all of time. (Thanks, honey.) I do, however, get to deal with the dog's obstinence. (This is my reward for choosing an intelligent and energetic breed.)

If I am upstairs typing a story, playing computer card games or chatting online and there is LIGHT in the sky, Snickers comes to get me and bring me downstairs. I do not belong on my bed during daylight hours and he is going to make sure I either follow procedure or get nothing done for his pestering. If I am downstairs when the time turns to about 9 pm, Snickers jumps on my lap to scratch at my hands or put his whiskers in my face until I capitulate to the schedule and go upstairs to bed. Last night was one of the nights when my dog sent me to bed.

As per my usual habit, I commanded Snickers, "Go to bed," which he ran to do. Then I ascended the stairs behind him to turn on my bedroom light and head into the bathroom. Coming back into the bedroom after brushing my teeth, my eyes went wide with surprize.

"Snickers!" I yelled so loudly that Anne, in another room with the door closed, came out to see what was the matter.

My highly intelligent, over-protective, time-telling, knee-high taskmaster had pulled my bedspread entirely off my formerly made bed. Bedspread on the floor, sheets and other blankets all skew, I had to entirely remake the bed before I could do pefrorm the trick my dog wanted and lie down in it.

My new trick on command: Make the bed.