THE COOKIE SHEET COMMAND

Something I accidentally taught the Littlest Lunatic.

You see, when LL came to stay, she countersurfed with a vengeance. I have never ever seen a dog who was such a menace with respect to counter tops. She would steal food, of course. After all, she's an Airedale! However, storage containers, bottles of pills, the cutlery, chef's knives, plastic bags full or empty, scissors, the toaster cord, cookbooks - everything disappeared only to be found later, considerably well-masticated, usually hidden in our bed.

Seeing as how the Littlest Lunatic had a tiny resource-guarding issue, she would bare her teeth, snarl and wave her fangs at me if I offered to remove the items from her possession. A good time was NOT had by all while this was going on and, naturally, one worried she would ultimately devour something that would create a blockage.

I tried all the usual training methods that have worked with our other dogs but the Littlest Lunatic remained adamant - counters were sources of toys & snacks. Period.

One day, I was preparing to make cookies. I happened to be holding a cookie sheet in my hand when LL's paws went up on the counter. She stole the spoon out of the bowl of batter!

Well, enough had suddenly become enough. When she'd licked the spoon clean and popped up for the bowl itself, I lost it. I admit that I am a bad dog mom but, in sheer frustration, I threw the cookie sheet on the floor! It landed with a crash. The Littlest Lunatic dropped like a stone to the tile and did the best duck-and-cover routine I've seen outside of a grade six class during an earthquake!

Hmmmnnn, I thought. This is at least more humane than lining a series of mouse traps up on the counter which someone had suggested would work. So, I waited until her paws went up on the side counter and dropped the cookie sheet again. Down she went on all fours. She rolled her eyes, tied her ears in a knot and ran off for parts unknown.

Once or twice since that time, she's thought to investigate the counter again. Out comes the cookie sheet and down go her paws. No need to even drop the sheet.

The fortunate outcome has been that, should I wish to remove something dangerous from her jaws these days, I simply howl, "COOKIE SHEET!!!" and PPPTUUUIII! Out shoots the offending item!

I'm sure this inadvertent lesson has saved the Littlest Lunatic from numerous visits to the vet to remove hazardous wastes from her innards!

Serendipity rules!

Angie Adorable (If you just wait, Mom hands out treats anyway. No need to get them yourself!)

Littlest Lunatic (Eeeek! The counters are dangerous in this house!)

Pixie [almost] Perfect the FosterDale (I never countersurf . . . well, only once when I ate the butter . . . ! What a commotion!)

Pifflesqueak the Toy Poodle (I don't mind if LL countersurfs but she never shares!)

FLIPPING THE . . . er . . . DOG

Not long ago someone suggested to me that it was possible to evict recalcitrant Airedales from the bed by flipping the bed clothes so the victim tumbled off onto the floor . . . .

Today, Jim was the last one up. He did not, of course, make the bed. I mean, what's to do? Pull up a duvet and throw a few decorative pillows around! Way too tough. Anyway, I discovered this omission a few minutes ago when I went into the bedroom to change for a dinner engagement. Friend is coming over to pick me up and our bedroom is right off the front hall. The bed needs to be made.

BUT on the bed is not one but two Airedales, snoozing away happily. The third is baffed out on a dog pillow beside the bed.

The Circus has now taken over the spare room bed as you can see.
Pifflesqueak & Angie in a moment of rare coexistence

I adopt a happy tone of voice and chirp, "Okay, ladies, off!" Angie opens an eye, sees it is only me, can't perceive of any reason why she should forgo her comfort since I have neither treats nor a leash in my hand and zozzes off again. "OFF!!!" I say with some firmness. The Littlest Lunatic wakes up, yawns mightily and tucks her head back on dad's pillow. "OFFFFFFFFFFF!!!" I bellow in my Do-It-Now-Or-Else voice. Angie sensibly takes fright and scrambles off the bed. The Lunatic yawns again, stretches luxuriously, and rolls over into the middle of the bed.

Okay. Now this really is tiresome but I recall the advice about shaking the dogs off by lifting the edge of the duvet so I hoist and shake, commanding "Off!" at the same time. The Lunatic rolls near the edge of the bed and digs her claws in. I snap the duvet and, lo and behold! the Littlest Lunatic flies gracefully off the bed and lands with a thump -- right on top of Pixie [Almost] Perfect!

Oops.

Pix takes exception to the Lunatic leveling her and indulges in a spot of bitey-face, all the while scolding poor LL with window-rattling barks. LL snaps back at Pix and yaps piercingly. They promptly roll out of the bedroom in a great mass of irritated Airedale, howling & gnawing at each other, much to the detriment of the lamps, the rugs and other little amenities we foolishly keep around the house.

(Would someone please remind me why I have Airedales again? I think I may have forgotten . . . .)