I have a decorator working in my house at the moment, frantically preparing for Danielle’s arrival — which is to say I am frantic, the decorator is a laid back Irishman. So, the dogs slept in my utility room last night as it’s the only room in the house I can lock them in that isn’t surrounded by wet paint. I wake up this morning and let them out. Jake runs off, but Daisy stays in the room, circling my feet and behaving oddly. I tell her to sit and for a change she does so, ultra-attentively. She normally only does that when I’m holding some sort of treat. I can’t figure out what’s going on. She keeps glancing off to one side
Then I realise.
She’s looking — staring actually — at a hanging organiser thingy on the wall that holds their leads. She wants to go out and she’s capable of telling me that by pointing to her lead.
This is the dog who won’t sit, fetch, stay, stop, or do anything else I tell her to. But she can point to what she wants and use the physical object of her lead to communicate the concept of a walk.
The fucking bitch.
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