Right-o. So yesterday I told you how Gustavo was just nailing those pole entrances as part of a sequence and flying through the poles like a pro. Never missed a beat. Had the sheep impressed if blank stares from across the pasture counts as impressed. He made me jump up and down and squeal with the joyfulness of it all until I noticed my pants were slipping down again in the back and sheep could see things best seen on plumbers and little harlots under the age of 19.
So today we did the same exact same little deal. Changed the angle of a couple jumps, but the same thing Generally Speaking. He is comfortably doing little sequences of 4-5 things, maybe more if they involve straight lines. And tunnels. God does he love tunnels. Oh. I moved the tunnel over to a new spot, I should mention that little, teensy, tiny clue.
So what do you want to bet that he completely forgot how to do the poles?
Did you bet a lot on the high quality of my quality dog training that I've been a good teacher and shown my dog how to teach himself to run through poles accurately and super fast? Wager all the money on the dog training genius of Laura. All those chips slide out to my roulette number on the black. Every single one. How many of you betting on that?
Or did you bet the other way? Because I call him a squirrel. And it took months to figure out if he really understood the word Sit. Because a tiny little short bus should pick him up in the morning with his lunchbox taped to him and a giant name tag that says GUSTAVO in puffy letters with a ladybug on it. And glitter. And I mentioned this little thing. I moved something. I moved the tunnel across the field. How many of you waving your big plastic cup of quarters this way?
Yes, I moved the tunnel. He LOVES the tunnel like I love my taxidermy. Like I love ipod and my green purse and navy blue slip on vans and the way my super oldest old lady horse says hi to me every morning. Screaming in delight joyful. Up and down jumping not able to contain the joy of it all. Dancing robots! As if the sky was not filled with smoke and no animals ever old and sick and goddamn rainbows hurling their way through my own personal big sky in the land of ranches and chocolate chips and pots of gold and where all evil drooling leprechauns have been eradicated by the Power Unicorns. And yesterday, the tunnel was after the poles. Today, tunnel somewhere else.
Yes, OK. Did you just win a bunch of money or lose it? Poles were forgotten. 3 times through, hi and goodbye and poles a nice thing to run alongside and maybe over to the fence a moment and is that a butterfly over there? Why would you want to fly through poles top speed if there is no tunnel afterwards? Like duh. Butterfly so much cooler! Run so fast and wild to the butterfly!
But, time number 4, HELLO and BONJOUR and ALOHA because here we go. My crafty little toaster oven you, you REMEMBERED which is HUGE as in my book of Gustavo. And you were treated to the joy of the exploding tupperware where I throw it so hard out at the end the lid pops off and there is as much cheese as you could ever want exploding there in your tiny little shrapnely toothed mouth. And then it was like, OH-just do the poles whenever you see them, no matter if it is the tunnel or the dogwalk or whatever thing. Like I think he might be getting it.
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