I’ve been reading Pocket’s blog postings lately, and frankly, I’m concerned. Mommy always makes our vet appointments at the same time. If Pocket’s has one pending……oh crap. I hope it’s the female dogtor. I am much more accepting of women groping me then men. If it’s that old guy with the cold hands I am going to be one uncooperative bitch (@AKC registered). And he better not think of even sniffing my anal glands. Sicko!
You know how, when Pocket is sleeping on Mommy’s lap, I like to stealthily approach her and attack her with six pounds of ferociousness? Well, get this. Friday night I was walking across Mommy’s afghan to get to her lap while she sat in the cozy recliner when something tragic happened. My piggy toe got caught in the afghan. I looked at Mommy with my most helpless expression when wham! Pocket jumped on the recliner, lips back, teeth bared, snarling like a heffalump, and scared the preciousness out of me. Daddy grabbed her, put her on the floor, and held her down with one hand, while Mommy and he worked on freeing the toe. Once it was free I looked down on my sister, pushing back my teeth and snarling at her, but deep down, I was proud of her, another lesson learned by little Pocket at the foot of the Foley Monster. That someday, when I’m old and lame, she’ll probably kill me, tinges my pride slightly. But still, this old Yorkie is proud.
But she has never learned to properly play the treat game. It is quite simple. When you get your treat you don’t gobble it down as she does (so unprofessional), you let it sit, and wait, as slowly your slow learning sister creeps towards you with treat theft foremost in her mind.
There are three ways to play this game:
(1) The in between the paws: This is the game I usually play now, keeping the treat in between my paws while Pocket slowly tries to figure a way to snatch it from me. She starts with her head between her paws, doing an imitation of my treat. Then she slowly wiggles forward. Then, she pounces, trying to snatch it. I reach down, and lift it in my mouth, and, as she retreats, I spit if back out. Pocket begins to circle, waiting until she thinks she’s out of my peripheral vision and she makes her move again. I put it back in my mouth and she is left whining. Sometimes I drop it again for another round, and sometimes I eat it because it’s soggy and I’m tired.
(2) The ignore: This is where Mommy holds out the treat for me and I act like it is the most-vile thing I have ever seen. I even turn from it slightly. Then, when Pocket makes her move, I dart over, take it in my mouth, then spit it out and start over again. When I was young, this was my entire repertoire. But age has cost me my lightning fast reflexes. I still get by with expert positioning, guile, and timing. But Pocket beats me to the treat more times then I care to admit, and truthfully, I want the treat.
(3) The sit in: Or, more appropriately, the sit on. Basically I sit on the frackin’ thing. Pocket goes nuts running around trying to find it. Sure it gets warm, and sometimes, by the time I’m done, there’s some hair on it, but it’s my warmth, and my hair, so what do I care? There isn’t much sport in it, but there is humor. Pocket is sniffing all around my ribs, it tickles, I giggle, she whines and pouts, what’s not to like about it? Danm my sporting sensibility, if it wasn’t for that, this is what I would do all day.
I know many of you will be anxious to see if we can find a Dogtor to fix Pocket’s persistent leak. We’ll be back tomorrow or Wednesday with the answer.
Same Monster Time
Same Monster Channel.