Okay, Let’s Go

I've talked about our dog, Matisse, a good bit.  She's about the most loveable dog you could ask for and just what we needed as a pet for my daughter.   She's incredibly sweet, somewhat skittish, and has captured the hearts of my entire family, grandparents included.

But she's not the brightest dog I've ever owned...by far.   I looked at my husband with my most scornful stare when he suggested a year ago that Matisse wasn't brilliant.   Now, I've embraced the fact, happy that as a result, we have a compliant dog who doesn't try to outsmart us, doesn't tear up things, or attempt to get food off tables and counters.  

We put a bell at the front door so she could ring it when she wanted to go out.   It took a surprisingly long time for her to get this concept. However, once she figured it out, she hasn't had a problem ringing the bell regularly, sometimes just after coming in in the rain or other times when she hadn't had enough time outside, in her opinion.

She's fully house trained, and I can't remember the last time she had an accident, save for a bit of excitement when Nana or Mimi arrives, causing a slight loss of bladder control.  Who can blame her, though, we all get excited when the grandparents visit.

One thing I've worried about is her communicating with us in the bedroom at night or early in the morning if she needs to go outside.   On occasion when I've been awake in the middle of the night, and it looks like she might need to go, I'll let her out, only to have her stand around on the front porch or meander in the yard without doing anything productive.

In the mornings I know she needs to go, the question is, can she wait until I get up after seven or eight even on the weekends, or does she need to go when I roll over and look at the clock in the six o'clock hour?  What time did we last let her out the night before, I'll think?  Sometimes it's been close to twelve hours.

Not that long ago, she did something several times.   She got on the bed, stood close to me, and stared me in the face.   She didn't move, she just would look at me.  When she did this, I would get up and let her out, and she did indeed have to go these times.   I thought we were close to a new communication breakthrough.

This morning she stepped up her game by standing on top of my chest and then, when she realized I was awake, lying down on my chest and looking at me.    I used all the phrases I always do when talking to her about going outside.   I asked, "do you want to go outside?"  Then I said, "okay, let's go."   My prior dogs would indicate yes with excitement and motion towards the door.   Matisse waits until she's sure.   This in and of itself is a good thing, because she'll give up if you don't want to take her out and is why I try to determine if she needs to go versus wants to go outside.

This morning I made a motion to roll over and off the side of the bed, only I couldn't because she was on top of me.   I tried this five, maybe six times in the hopes she would realize I was stuck underneath her weight.   On the sixth time, she finally got it and stood up, backing off me.  And yes, she did need to go reasonably badly, it seems.

If this is a new way to communicate about needing to go out, I'm glad.   We'll see if she tries it again soon.   We had a bell in the room at one point but removed it when we realized she just wanted to go in and out of the room multiple times per hour.   Its sort of a nice way to wake up, rather like a cat will sit on your chest.  She has a lot of cat characteristics, only she's thirty-five pounds.

What's That Tub Time Conversation:  This might be an overshare, so if you're a bit squeamish about boy and girl bits and how they like to talk abou them, come back tomorrow.   This was so funny I had to write it up, just as they said it when they were in the tub two nights ago.  The water had drained and my daughter was lying on her back with her feet planted on the tub and her knees pointing upwards.  My son, upon looking at her said, "you have a really big butt crack!"  She said she did not, sounding unsulted so he said, "here, let me show you" and tried to spread her legs apart.   My husband interjected that they should never let anyone touch them in their private parts without their permission and the standard bit about only parents, grandparents, and doctors should ever touch them there at all.  My daughter said, "oh, I don't mind," while my son peered over her knees and followed up by saying, "hey, what's that thing?  It sort of looks like a little penis."   My daughter grabbed herself and said, "You mean this?  Oh, I love that thing!"