Dear Cute Puppy,
I think you are the greatest, really. True to your breed, you have boundless energy and you are SMAHT. You have figure out the baby gates and doors and cabinets already and you’re only going on five months old. You’ve figured out where two wider pickets are in our fence and wiggle through them routinely when people walk by because you’re convinced everyone loves you and thinks you are the cutest and should give you belly rubs. And you’re right. You are the cutest. When you greet people on three legs you wiggle your little tush and it’s Freaking Adorable, yo.
You’ve learned many tricks so far. THE MAN thinks it’s super cute because you “speak” or “crow” at us to get attention. Shad Roe used to do this. You also admonish your fur sister, Bristol, if she barks at a passerby. You can sit on command, sit when folks enter the house, shake paw, head down, lie down, fetch, come on command (most of the time or when you’re in the mood, like if I have a frisbee in your hand) and DROP IT, the most important command of all. Your sister ain’t the brightest so we were able to get her to drop A PIECE OF BACON. Something tells me you won’t comply like that.
You’ve already got that Border Collie OCD thing down pat. You have that funny look in your eyes, fixating on the frisbee or tennis ball or stick. You’ll fetch for hours, even after we’ve become exhausted. We’re learning that fifteen minutes at a time is plenty. We don’t want you to start compulsively ripping shrubs and trees out of the ground to find sticks like our neighbor Border Collie buddy, Gus. Unlike Bristol, you’ll fetch anything. If you throw a ball of frisbee for Bristol she’ll watch it go by and then look back at us like, “Um. What am I supposed to do with that?” In a word, she’s obedient but fairly flat in personality. Very calm and happy, super sweet but NOT A BORDER COLLIE. Even though her mother was one. Apparently, her dad was about exciting as watching paint dry. But You, Daisy? Little mischievous thing that you are? Non-stop fun. Constant entertainment. You certainly keep me busy.
I do, however, have one small request. Do me a favor. When you go outside and I ask you to go potty? GO POTTY. You tend to get distracted by sticks and balls and small vermin and holes to dig under my Rhododendron and forget to go and forty-five minutes later I find a yellow puddle on the kitchen floor because you can’t hold it anymore. Outside is for potty, mmkay? And? Stop crying in your cage at 5am. Wake up time is 6:30. Just sayin’.
Best Fur Mommy obsessed with doggies ever.