Somewhere over the last 2 months, Ollie has changed from a relaxed puppy to a dog with demons. The demons tell him to tear around the house in the middle of the night and pounce on us in bed just to lick our faces and run off again. The demons tell him that the litter box is an Old Country Buffet. (Until the demons stop telling him those things, he sleeps in the kitchen at night.)

Plus, the demons told him he had to go ahead and grow!

All in all, he’s a good dog. He loves us to pieces, sits when told, handles himself off the leash well, will fetch for hours, worships Max and loves the cats. He’s 95% accurate with bathroom habits — not a small feat for a pup who has to exit our apartment, wait for an elevator, go down 5+ floors, walk through a lobby and not pee until we go through 2 sets of doors.

Putting all of that aside, I’m starting to think he’s not too bright. I’ve been trying to teach him to “shake hands” for about a month. He doesn’t get it.

“Ollie, shake.”

(I extend my hand.)

“Ollie, shake.”

(I take his paw and shake it up and down.)

“Good boy Ollie! Ollie, shake!”

(I put his paw down.)

“Ollie, shake.”

(I extend my hand. He licks it.)

“Ollie, shake.”

(I take his paw and shake it up and down.)

“Good boy Ollie! Ollie, shake!”

“Ollie, shake.”

Meanwhile, Max is riding a bicycle across the room with a beach ball balanced on his nose.

“OK, Olls…we’ll do this later.”

If dogs were technology, Ollie would be a checkbook calculator. Not a number-crunching powerhouse, but faithful, can be counted on to do simple things and even remember a number or two.

Happy 7-months, you little calculator, you.

Posted at: 1:30 pm in General, Play Both comments and pings are currently closed.
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