Ten facts about Bones

1. Bonesy is enthusiastic. When he is excited about something, he bounds. He leaps into the air with all four feet. He wiggles and wriggles (and sometimes even pees) for joy.

2. He is incredibly affectionate. He takes great pleasure in licking our faces, cuddling with us, and gazing at us with great happiness. He loves everybody.

3. We refer to Bones as “play-impaired.” He does not fetch, nor does he seem to understand the concept. He’ll go after something if he knows it has food inside, and he’ll drop it if we ask him to, then chase it down if we throw it again. I know this sounds a lot like fetch, but it is obvious that the food is the draw. He will not do the same with a ball or a stick or even with his “treat ball” if there is no treat inside. He doesn’t like to play tug-of-war, either.

4. Bones is bad at basic dog skills. He knows how to sit, stay, come, and lie down, but does them only sporadically.

5. Though he would never pass Dog 101, he has some Dog 201 skills down. He can shake hands, and he can roll all the way over. If he goes out on the deck, he knows to bark once to be let back in.

6. Bonesy loves kids. He’s patient and friendly with even little tiny kids.

7. He’s a mutt, and many people have opinions about what he might be. We were told he was an Australian Cattle Dog (Red Heeler)/German Shepherd mix by the shelter we got him from, but nobody knows for sure. (People often think he’s part Rottweiler because of his coloring, which I think is funny, because Jon’s dachshund is also the same colors, and no one thinks Oscar is part Rottweiler.)

8. If he dashes out the front door without a leash, he will return in 15-20 minutes whether we call him or not.

9. He loves to go to day care at Central Bark. We call it “school,” and all you have to do is ask him, “Do you want to go to school?!” and he’ll go absolutely nuts. We have to speak in code and call it “la escuela” or “the place of education” so he doesn’t go bonkers.

10. He would be the most perfect dog on earth if he didn’t like to mark on things so much. Many a book or record has had to be thrown away because he wandered off and decided to pee on something, regardless of whether we just took him out. It also means we can’t take him anywhere, because you don’t want him to destroy someone else’s stuff. As long as we keep an eye on him constantly, it’s manageable. . . and he’s such a good dog in all other ways, that we still love him!

I mean, who could resist a face like this?

Plan #9 – Write a blog post every day!

Annnnnd… it’s not going to happen today. Drat. In my defense, I have been sitting here for hours studying for a Continuing Ed insurance exam and simply lost track of time. I’m going to consider that a good enough reason to be late (and since I haven’t gone to bed yet, it technically still seems like the 10th to me, so I’d say this counts).

Here’s a photo of Bonesy to tide you over until I write a proper post next time:

Bonesy
Bones (aka Bonesy, Sherlock Bones, Bone-Z, Dogboy)

happiness is a good puppy

happy puppyBonesy has been a Good Dog lately. He has taken to cuddling up wherever I am – next to me on the bed, under the desk by my feet, under the table at dinner time. It’s so cute.

When I get ready to take out the trash or recycling, he comes running to the door, bouncing frantically to go outside. I just have to ask him, “Are you a Good Dog?” and he will sit right down at my feet and give me plaintive dog eyes until I open the door. Then he’ll stay close and not run off, even without a leash.

Unless… SQUIRREL!

Dang, that puppy loves squirrels. Bones can spot a squirrel in the road a block away (and, if he’s on a leash, he’ll practically pull my arm off to chase after it). If he sees one when he’s trying to be a Good Dog, all bets are off. He takes off like a bullet and has to be called approximately ten thousand times before he accepts the fact that he can’t follow the squirrel up the tree and finally gives up.

Then he is a Good Dog again and follows me into the house happily, leaping over Jinx as he comes in. (The cats still attempt to escape every time the door opens.) He’ll stick with me until I settle down somewhere, and then he sinks down and cuddles up once again.

Yep, he’s a good one. I can tell.