Opportunistic

We had a really nice date and walnut loaf in the house, and I decided a slice would nicely top off our lunchtime scrambled egg on toast.

So as I waited for the egg to finish cooking, my Beloved watched the toast and I took the buttered slices and put them on the occasional table between our lounge chairs for later.

Served the scramblers, picked up our glasses and headed to the lounge with the uneasy feeling that the Little Black Dog was not under our feet as is normal when there we are walking with food.

Got to the lounge to find:

One empty plate...

One big, buttery smear on the floor...

One LBD licking his chops...

Hardly a crumb left.

But then, he's a dog, so the chance that I had to clean up the buttery smear in the end?

Joy.

There are some things that bring joy to our lives.

Sometimes it's in successfully completing a task well.

Sometimes it's in the beauty of nature, or the kindness of a stranger.

Sometimes joy sneaks in amidst the mundane.

And sometimes it's in watching your dog try to catch the fly crawling up the screen - through a closed window.

How many flies did he catch?

The LBD is okay.

I've calmed down now, thankfully. Walking Friday arvo the LBD and I walked into two loose husky-ish looking dogs, one large and the other huge, the largest of which decided to have a go at one comparatively tiny Border Collie.

Thankfully bravery is not the LBD's strength. He went all floppy and submissive and didn't get savaged too badly, although he was squealing the whole time as if he was being torn to shreds.

I had nothing to protect him with and knew that you just don't break up dog fights. You just don't. Yelling didn't seem to make any impact what-so-ever. Thankfully worried owner arrived to drag them off home just as giant dog let go and the LBD ran behind me for protection. It was good not to have to deal with round 2; or potential 2 on 1 action.

We were both a tad shaken to say the least. Having got him home and inspected as much of him as I could see for all the fur there doesn't seem to be any skin broken at all, so it seems that giant dog was just out for world domination, not actual damage.

If I had had any sort of weapon handy I would have proved whether I have a violent streak or not. Surprisingly I think I do.

And the chance we want a repeat of that performance?

One Week.

There are actually two questions. The first can't be answered by the title of the post, but it is an important question, nonetheless.

"How long does it take to train a 10 year old dog to use a dog door?"

The answer is two 10 minute sessions of shoving him through head first, then encouraging him to do it for himself.

The second question arose out of our sleety horrible weather recently, because it's nice for the Little Black Dog to be able to get into the garage while we're out.

It is "How long will it take the dog to realise that he can follow the car out if he comes in through his door before the garage door goes down?"

Chance that I wasn't late for my meeting?

An exercise in futility; signage rethink required; and you can't teach old dogs...

One:

I finally got around to folding and putting away some clothes this morning.

The basket was empty until 4pm when I got in two loads of washing.

Two:

I drove out to our water supply dam at lunch time because I was going to a child's birthday party in one of the parks (I hadn't asked which one, so had to check them all). At one section of the recreation reserve as I carefully navigated the honeycomb of potholes that is the dirt access road I was amused to see a sign announcing that there was a speed bump ahead.

Thanks for the warning, guys, but not really necessary.

Three:

This afternoon my Beloved put a dog door in the sliding security door of our garage.

The LBD will use it...

...if we push it open it for him.

100 yard dash

Well, it was more like 6 yards.

Or yard frontages.

Which are about 20 metres wide each.

So it was probably about 140 metre dash.

The Little Black Dog hasn't had regular walks for a while.

He's obviously missing them.

It turns out that I can actually run for about 140 metres without killing myself.

What sort of achievement is that?

We are going to be very rich...

Yesterday I was working at my desk when the LBD started barking without cause.

It continued.

I went to the back of the house to yell at him, and, having done so, saw him sitting panting at the bottom of the back steps with a questioning look on his face... as the barking continued.

This means either:
a) it was another dog with a really similar bark; or
b) the LBD is working on a ventriloquism act for the flood appeal concert at the church next week.

The chance that we'll make a fortune from it?

You know you need to clean your house when...

I was Zumbaing in my lounge room (DVDs are not as good as a real class, but a whole lot cheaper and can be on at times that are convenient to me), pounding my bare feet into the hardwood surface as I twisted and grooved when I evidently picked up some stray LBD fur on the ball of one foot.

And the chance I would ever try to Zumba in socks?

King Kong?

While I was away - had a great time, thanks for asking - Emily Sue needed to get some cat-related stuff and while we were in the pet shop I bought a Kong toy for the Little Black Dog. The vet had suggested it as it keeps a dog's brain active and isn't too hard on their back legs if they just nuzzle and chew it, trying to get the treats out of the inside.

So I bought one.

Filled it with doggie treats and put it down for the LBD. Moved it with my toe to make it interesting.

So now the game goes like this: I move the Kong around with my foot. Every so often food falls out. The LBD eats it. Then looks at me for more. I move the Kong around with my foot...

The chance that this is how it is supposed to work?