THE NOVEMBER 2004 STORIES . . .

When the Littlest Lunatic joined our household, feeding the pack became an instant circus. LL is voraciously hungry at meal times and offers to eat any dinner that is put down whether it belongs to her or not.

To combat this, we have been training her to sit and stay while the other grrrrls received their food bowls. We always ask the Airedales to "leave" their meal until given permission to attack it. Part of the training has been a requirement that they make eye contact with us prior to receiving the command to "take it".

Thanks to these strategies, Littlest Lunatic has been moderately successful in achieving some degree of self control. Note the operative word: "moderate".

Last night, LL was very difficult. She sat when asked but broke the stay and attempted to dive into Angie's dinner. Concerned about losing her meal, Angie promptly attacked the food without waiting for the command to take it. I was justifiably irritated, given the amount of time we have been working on this routine.

I rounded on the Littlest Lunatic and advised her sharply to sit. Normally, I speak very quietly and calmly to her but I really was quite cross. Her eyes got very big, the ears wound themselves into a knot behind her head and her furry little bottom thumped down on the floor with great haste.

I moved to her designated eating spot, plunked the bowl down and called her. The Littlest Lunatic looked at me consideringly, apparently attempting to gauge exactly how much trouble she might be in, and then, without rising to her feet, slithered across the floor on her bottom, arriving, still seated, in front of her dinner! Did a great leave it, gazed soulfully at me and only dived into the meal when I gave the command. I told her she was a very good girl and she wagged her tail vigorously even as the jaws were busy with dinner.

I wonder if she is finally starting to actually care what we think of her?

Maureen (Sit already!)
Angie A (Hey! That's MY dinner!)
Littlest Lunatic (I'm sitting! I'm sitting! See how well I'm sitting? I'll keep sitting -- just feed me!)
Pifflesqueak the Toy Poodle (Can't you knotheads manage even to eat dinner without a fuss?)

. . . AND THE DECEMBER 2004 STORIES . . .

IF YOU'RE GOING TO COUNTERSURF . . .

. . . pick your target more carefully.

I'd offer this advice to the Littlest Lunatic who has spent the last half hour crated for her most recent transgression.

You see, I spent much of the afternoon making chocolate fruit cakes. These delicacies are a family tradition. I have friends who beg piteously for a morsel or two each holiday season and consequently are awarded a cake each for a Christmas gift. The cakes are time-consuming to make, being as how the tons of fruit required must be sliced and soaked in brandy for several days prior to the actual baking event occurring. The ingredients also cost the earth. But I digress . . .

The cakes were baked today. I set them on the counter on little racks to cool. They were still in their pans. This proved to be a good thing.

In the process of making supper tonight, I was obliged to duck out of the kitchen to collect something I needed. I was gone perhaps 30 seconds.

A resounding CRASH from the kitchen sent me rushing back. The Littlest Lunatic stood in front of the counter. At her feet lay a perfect, delectable chocolate fruit cake. Her jaws were open, ready for the first bite!

"Oh, Courtenay!!!!" I wailed. The jaws paused in mid-snap and clicked shut. The ears wound themselves into a knot behind her head. She sank to her belly and looked up at me, embarrassment oozing from every pore. I was very proud of myself. I merely crated her and told her only once that she was exceedingly naughty.

Well, upon investigation, it turned out that the five-second rule more or less applied with a little creative fudging. You know that rule -- if the item has rested on the floor for only five seconds, it's still safe to eat. Gingerly, I lifted the pan from the floor, discovered that the cake was still intact, brushed a couple of Airedale haires off the surface and said, "What the heck! We'll keep this one ourselves!"

I released the Littlest Lunatic from jail shortly thereafter. However, she knew she was likely not my most favorite flavor of the night and decided to stay crated. She's still there although she's been hugged and forgiven and offered a cookie . . . .

Maureen and the pup-sicles in chilly BC, Canada

A LUMP OF COAL

That is what the Littlest Lunatic will be getting in her Christmas stocking should she choose to continue her antics of yesterday.

To tell you the truth, she's been quite angelic (for the most part) for the past 10 days or so. Yesterday morning, for example, I was sitting up in bed when I spotted a pair of bright little shoe button eyes peering over the edge of the mattress at me. The eyes were followed by the rest of the dog who jumped up and settled with a big sigh into my lap. She offered a few kisses and fell asleep. She's never done this before and I was so happy that she is clearly finally accepting us. Later, my husband remarked that LL was just the sweetest little thing. He had returned from an outing and there she was - hanging over the airelock gate in the front hall, wagging furiously, and offering kisses. She was overjoyed to see him.

Then the fun began! The Littlest Lunatic retrieved a pair of gloves from the hall cupboard but, fortunately (for her), brought them to me and dropped them at my feet.

But things really went downhill from there.

She countersurfed the pot holders and refused to give them up. The dish rag fell prey to her depredations and ended up in shreds in the middle of the Oriental carpet. She fetched a chunk of rotted wood inside from who knows where and rent it into horrible, soggy toothpicks all over the dining room. She stole my napkin and seemed determined to climb in my lap at dinner.

Not content with these adventures, she then attempted to entice Angie to play tug with her. She should know by now that Angie has utterly no interest in playing tug with anyone. The Littlest Lunatic snatched up a toy and stuffed it in Angie's face. Angie ignored her. LL squeaked the toy encouragingly. Angie told her to go away. Thwarted, LL decided to play tug with Angie's ears instead. Angie, quite reasonably, objected strenuously and a minor war erupted with lots of snarling and trash talk. Called to order, LL voluntarily retreated to the big crate in my office - with a number of items plucked from the laundry basket.

Advised sharply to mind her manners for a change, she was directed to come down to the TV room with us where we could keep an eye on her. While we were engrossed in a program, she sneaked off, broke into my husband's office, stole his favorite hat and ate it. My husband, having clearly forgotten the "sweet little dog" from earlier in the day, became quite cranky. LL retreated outside for a space.

Ready to call it a night, I trotted into the bedroom to discover that the duvet had been pushed half way down the mattress. This was very likely a good thing because, in the bed which had been freshly changed that day, was an extremely wet, excessively muddy Littlest Lunatic! The sheets were a mess and more than a little soggy. The bed required a new set of sheets and considerable work with a hair dryer before anyone could retire.

Littlest Lunatic, exhausted by her transgressions, settled on the floor and beamed angelically at us . . . .

Definitely, a lump of coal for the Littlest Lunatic if this keeps up!

Maureen (who's lost her voice from saying "NO!" repeatedly)
Angie Adorable ( Those are MY ears, you knothead! Grrrrrrr........)
Courtenay (WHAT? WHAT? Did I do something wrong?)
Pifflesqueak the Toy Poodle (Doesn't she know Santa's coming?)

Angie A now has her own website HERE