My hapless victim, The Leash
Today, Erik came over to do Mom’s hair, and, as usual, I was transported in joy. Erik is one of my very favorite humans, and he has such a good dog smell, too. I was jumping by leaps and bounds, and Mom and Erik were telling me, “Off!” (the command from Canine College). However, I did not want to “Off!” I wanted to be “On!” and acted accordingly.
Mom had the training collar on me and the leash. They told us in school that if the dog is supervised, to keep (her) on the collar and leash, and let the dog drag it around the house. The idea is to be able to “correct” the dog’s misbehavior with a tug. So Mom has been following instructions, and I’ve been dragging the leash around.
I got a bit put out with being told to, “Sit!” and “Off!” and the occasional tug when I was feeling so exuberant. So, I sneaked up to the landing of the stairs as if I were taking a nap, hunkered down, and chewed the leash in half.
Then, triumphant, I came trotting downstairs, tail waving proudly, and jumped on Erik.
Mom is VERY upset with me. She says we can use the small leash from the animal shelter, but she has to buy a new one. Probably chain instead of fabric.