Maya here. ‘Bout time I checked back into my
hooman’s blog. Missed me?
A lot has happened since I first took over my new
realm household a couple of months ago. A LOT. …and no, I’m not talking about “Georgia,” or “Insurrection” or “Amanda Gorman,” or any of the other things my hoomans are always blabbing about. I’m talking tummy rubs, of course. I’ve had about 4,000 of those.
But also–well, let’s be real. I’m talking TRAINING.
For some weird reason my hoomans have taken it into their minds that I need to
stop knocking people over with the strength of my affection act a little more “polite,” whatever that means. Actually I learned what it means: lots of walking in circles on my leash. That seems to be called “Heel.”
And there are lots of other funny words, like “Sit” and “Stay” and “Come.”
Some of it–honestly? Pretty silly. Like “Down.” Although I guess I appreciate how they want my snout to be closer to all that delectable rabbit poop…
But I gotta admit, they’re really starting to get the hang of this TRAINING thing. Look how long of a leash I have them on sometimes!
So all in all, I guess I’m pretty proud of ’em. Sometimes they even have their own partly-grown hooman puppy to come over and play with me, though apparently he needs a muzzle.
So we’re all good here. I may check back in again from time to time and let you know how they’re doing. Main thing? They’ve learned the proper way to address me. When I come in from relaxing in the yard, I’m called “Miss Mossy-Butt Bossy Mutt”…which I’m pretty sure means “Your Majesty.”
Our Saint Bernard rescue Butters, was allowed to jump up and moulth her handler along with wrapping her paws around your torso and pull you down!
Mastiffs and other large breeds have to be trained NOT to be the alpha! I know-you know!
Maya says, “Oooooh, Butters sounds like my kinda girl!”
She is beautiful! And as you know, you are doing her and everyone else a huge favor by training her to walk on a leash and to obey commands. I always dread encountering a big dog that jumps up on me while the owner yells, “Oh, don’t worry, he’s friendly!” Or for that matter, the little ankle-biter that chases me every day on my walks. 😦
Yes! Those cheery owners are the WORST, right?!
Really sweet and funny!
Thank you, Lorna!