Training Humans

My Moomie gets SO mixed up! She's old you know, but is that really an excuse? She should be better at following instructions by her age. Do other doggies have trouble training their humans? It's been horrible weather here in Michigan today and my feet got cold. When that happened me's needed to warm them up on Moomie's belly, but when Levi---ever so politely---barked my request to Moomie, she put me outside where my feet get even colder! That happened five or six time. FINALLY, me's got her to understand that Levi needed to sleep on her lap while she did her computer work.

After awhile me's warmed up and decided to play with Mr. Froggie, my new buddy. Did you hear what happened to him? His arm accidentally got caught in my mouth and Levi had to chewed it in half. Moomie sewed him back together but his arm got shorter and put on backward. Why did she do that? Now me's have to chew it off again so she can get it on right
side up.

Levi did make some progress training Moomie, though. Every since my pawrents adopted me we've been having this back and forth argument about where my daytime bed belongs. Moomie wanted in the kitchen next to her computer desk but me would drag it into the living room a million times a day and park it in front of the deck door where there is a great view of the bird feeder. FINALLY, after five months of this Moomie got trained to leave my daybed in the living room. Me's nearly cheered out loud when she told Daady last week that she's going to buy me another daybed for the kitchen. Oh, and those branding irons and old cowboy boots of my daady's---they got moved. Something was said about chewing or knocking things over and hurting myself so Levi now has that sunny corner by the desk all to my self.

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Three Dog Beds and Mom's Chair

Angel dogs in training are not supposed to be jealous of their charges. And I'm not. Truly I'm not. Really, really, really I'm not. I just want to know why my earth-bound brother, Levi, is allowed to sleep in Mom's chair but I never was. She even had one of those X-Mat pet training things designed to keep me from getting up there. Be warned, dogaroons, those thing hurts when you jump on them!

You're probably thinking there's more to the story. I guess I did leave out that fact that I liked to dig in the chair, too, trying to make a nest for myself while pretending I was out in the wilds of Montana. But Levi will learn to do that as well. Doesn't Mom know that? No, she just lets him sleep where he can keep an eye on her in the kitchen and Dad in his Lazy Z Boy. I'm not jealous---I think I've established that---I'm just concerned for Mom's judgment with raising Levi. She's getting old, you know.

And since I'm making comparisons, he's got three---count them---one, two, three dog beds. I only had one. He's got the soft, cushy one in the laundry room that he uses at night. Another one that fits in the bottom of his crate that Mom keeps in the car, and the third is a 'crate liner' bed that Levi is allowed to drag all through the house so he can plop down and sleep where ever he pleases.

Here is a photo of Levi in his crate liner bed, sleeping next to the waste basket. Can you believe it, he's never looked inside that basket! What self-respecting dog wouldn't have dove in after the junk mail and shredded paper by his age? He's going to be six months old on the 23rd, he should know about waste baskets by now. I hope he's not retarded.

My angel brother Jason says I have a selective memory. He says I didn't need a dog bed in the car because I always got to ride on Mom's lap back in the days when Dad could drive and after that I got to ride on Dad's lap. Levi needs a crate and bed in the car because, 1) he doesn't know enough not to jump out of an open door while Mom is transferring Dad to his wheelchair and 2) times have changed since I was a pup and Mom knows, now, that dogs are safer riding in the back where air bags can't get them.

I'll concede that Jason is right about all of that but he didn't have a logical explanation for why Levi has that third bed. The best he could come up with is that when I am able to let go of my earthly attachment to things, Levi could have a hundred beds and it won't matter to me. This is where Jason loses me with all that Zen stuff. Up here at the Rainbow Bridge, what ever we can imagine having to make us happy---tennis balls, steaks, Sarah with her pink tutu, fields to run in, water to play in---they magically appear. Yet when I look down on earth, all I'm suppose to see and help nurture is love, compassion and laughter.

"You already have that ability inside you," Jason told me. "You just need to master using it."

"Couldn't you just wave a magic wand and make me full angel wings worthy?" I begged him. All I've got now are those stubby trainer wings, you know.

"And have you miss great opportunities to grow and learn?" he answered with a smile. "That's not the angel way."

Love, compassion, laughter, growth, and learning---I'm tired of trying to figure out what all this has to do with Levi having three dog beds and Mom's chair to sleep in. I've got a poker game to go to. I'm out of here. Catch you later, alligators. ©

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Levi's First Twenty-Four Hours

This is Cooper reporting from the Rainbow Bridge. I'm an angel dog, now, with the power to watch over my humans and their new addition to the family. Without further ado, let me introduce Levi, a thirteen week old schnauzer with big feet. Oh, my God! I think the breeder lied to my humans when she said he'll only weigh seventeen pounds when he grows up.

Levi's not a hell raiser like I was at his age, but he's inquisitive and he likes my old toys that mom washed up for him. My humans also gave him the new bed that Mom
bought for me a few months before I came to doggie heaven and wouldn't use. She ended up digging my old one back out of the trash. But I digress. Little Levi took right to the new bed and uses it for a playpen. He hasn't it figured out how dogs are supposed to sleep in beds. Most of the time he hangs half in and half out.

Levi is doing well with Dad's wheelchair. He isn't afraid of it like some older dogs are. He's already found the short cut underneath and he's learning to 'sit' when Dad transfers. Little Levi likes the tags on the chair's cushion, though, and he got his first "No!" reprimand for chewing on them. Something tells me he's going to get a lot more of those before he grows up because Levi's not going to be allowed up on all the furniture like I was. He's only going to be allowed up in Dad's Laz-Z-Boy when the two of them take naps. Levi's been up there already for several short bonding sessions, with Mom close by to make sure he didn't jump down and hurt himself.

My folks were happy that little Levi's first night in his new home went well. He didn't cry or make a fuss when he had to stay in the laundry room. He didn't even cry when he woke up before Mom and Dad. He just played with his toys and used his puppy pad. The only real problem Levi is having is learning to walk on a leash. He plants his butt down on the floor, locks his front legs stiff and pulls backwards with all his might. But I know our mom; she's stubborn, too, and she'll get my little brother leash broke. Otherwise he'll miss out on all the fun stuff in an earth dog's life.

Tomorrow Levi gets his first visit to the veterinarian's office so that he can get the paper work required for the puppy classes at the Humane Society and for the groomers. I don't think I'll get "remorseful" tagging along in spirit to the place where I departed earth---especially since they have a special room they use for families and dogs that are parting company and little Levi won't be going in there. My humans made a difficult but loving decision that last day and I think they know it was the right one. Little Levi is helping to fill the holes in our parents' hearts that I left, so they will be okay. He's a joyful presence in a house that would have been too quiet without either one of us there. ©
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