May 12, 2010 10:02
He didn't gallop through the house and knock over the sofa, or tear off its cushions and shake them like each one is a vicious were-rabbit that must be killed before the full of the moon.
He didn't drag Kelly across the room by her tail.
He didn't terrorize the cat, crow-hopping side-to-side and barking at him.
He didn't steal my socks or bite my shoelaces.
He didn't climb on the coffee table and balefully CHOMP away on a toy with an expression on his face that plainly said he wished it were me.
He didn't WOOF in my face.
Today Cobie went to the door and whined to go out. And when that didn't work--because this is a new language for him and I didn't get it right away--he whined again.
And again.
Whereupon I did finally get it, I launched out of my chair as though spring loaded and raced to let him out, where he proceeded to build epic log cabins in the yard. IN THE YARD! Where epic log cabins belong!
GOOD BOY, COBIE!
Not that he has not been housebroken this long time. He just hasn't been speaking human on the subject; I had to learn to understand all the Cobie-isms for LEMME OUT NOW. But how much more peaceful if he can learn to just whine.
*hopes*
dog,
cobie