Double Whammy

Jim is out of town this weekend with some old buddies, so I'm home alone with The Hole in My Head.

I'm hoping to fully housetrain Dakota while Jim is gone so I can surprise (read, "impress") him with my training abilities. I've always dreamed of having a well-trained dog, but I have a poor track record in the area. When my first dog, a Bichon Frise (an idiot breed of dog that is incapable of learning ANYthing) named Doc, would escape from the house, we couldn't just call him with dignity back into the house. No, we had to run around the neighborhood shaking half-empty potato chip bags shouting, "Doc, wanna chip?!? Don't cha want a chip?!? Yum, CHIPS!" in an effort to lure him back home. Best Friend Nicki would literally hide behind bushes when cars would drive by during this shameful activity. There was no way she would be associated with such behavior, particularly since her Golden Retriever Buddy was both angelically sweet and well trained. Ugh.

So, I dream of a well-trained dog--not particularly the freak-show-well-trained dog that would make it on Letterman's Stupid Pet Tricks because she can do cartwheels, but the kind of dog that can walk beside my calmly and respectfully, the kind of dog that will sit and stay and lie down at a mere glance from me, the kind of dog, you know, at the very least, that isn't embarrassing.

And so, at the risk of jinxing everything, I'd like to announce that Dakota is now walking with purpose to the door consistently when she needs to go out. I've decided that peeing outdoors is step one to well-trained dog heaven.

I'm taking this purposeful walking as a testament to both my teaching and my mothering abilities.

Double whammy. Nice.