Perkins learns some words

When Mom came into town for Son's graduation, she brought her dog Pablo and stayed in a hotel. For two of the nights she was there, I brought Perkins and stayed the night. I enjoyed some nice visiting time with Mom, and the two young dogs got to romp together.

I'm not a morning person, and, if I don't remember exactly where I set my glasses before going to bed, I am pretty useless until I either miraculously find them, or go ahead and put my contact lenses in. So I was kind of slow on the uptake when Mom started saying things like, "Did you know that Perkins can bow?"

I was confused, but then looked over at Perkins doing his deep morning stretch. Mom says "That's a bow! Good bow Perkins!" Then Perkins starts in on a sneezing fit. "That's a sneeze, Perkins! Good sneeze!"

Okay, I get it. And I was impressed. I also realized that I could cut myself some slack for not being as good labeling things for my dogs because I hadn't really done it before. I think Mom has been working with her dogs like this long enough that it's become second nature.

In the month and a half since then, I've been consciously working on this--and shifted my thinking from "I'm going to teach Perkins these commands" to something a little closer to, "I'm going to work on teaching Perkins the words in English that I want him to know."

He definitely knows what "treat" means now. I will promise him a "treat" right after he makes a "poop", and will bound excitedly to the door so that I can let him into the kitchen and he can collect his reward. He also seems to know what a "toy" is, but only his "elephant toy" is super special and awesome.

So if I ask Perkins, "Where's your elephant toy?", he will immediately start wagging his tail. "Go get your elephant toy!" Tail still wagging, Perkins begins to track down his favorite toy.

Early this evening, I had both dogs out in the yard together. My main goal was to make sure that Perkins got in a good, tiring play session so that he would more or less happily rest in his crate while the family watched something together. Perkins doesn't understand that Son wishes to impose a restraining order that would require that no part of a dog's body can ever come within 6 feet of him. (Especially that infernal wagging tail!) So the only way "family time" can be a more or less positive experience is for Perkins to spend that time quietly locked inside his crate.

So I was trying to play with Perkins. "Here's a ball, Perkins. Can you go get the ball? Bring me the ball, Perkins!"  I'm trying to work up all this excitement, and then throw the ball. Perkins just gives me this look that says, "Yeah, sorry. I don't care much for those."

Then I see the stuffed Winnie the Pooh doll--which remains remarkably unmaimed. He owes this good fortune to fact that he is stuffed ONLY with fluff. No squeaker. So I pick up the toy and throw it, saying to Perkins, "Where's Pooh?" And immediately I realize, aw, crud, that sounds way too close to the word "poop". So I switch to "Where's Winnie--", and then look over at my other dog. Damn, that name's already taken! So finally, I came up with "Where's your bear toy?"

I never imagined play time could be so mentally taxing!