03 November 2014
Banksy sighting, not a hoax.
Banksy is turning 9 months old in a week. This seems like a number that is less puppy and a little more dog. A few weeks ago I thought she was graduating from puppy to dog. The staring transfixness was improving to where some days, no staring. Even walking near breezy leaves and on smooth floors. Her manners were getting good. She was doing her baby agility like a champ. There were stays and focus during puppy class. She didn't try to eat anything in the house. Every recall was happening every time. She was coming near me for petting for no reason other than just because. There was fur brushing of all furs and even mutual consensus on shortening of fingernails. I was in continual shock and awe of the amazing transformation.
Every little thing she did, so GOOD!
Then we had last week! Ha ha ha! HA HA HA! First there was the chasing of a truck across our entire ranch, out the big front pasture and down a busy rural road. Very far, very unexpected, VERY DANGEROUS! Then there was the new fixation on trucks! TO CHASE THEM! Then there was the staring resumed again, left off where she left it last month. Bad staring, the kind where you can't unstare her if except by picking her up and moving her. The fingernails, NO WAY! The leaping on the people of love, which is every person in the universe, even if she has never seen them in their life and they are wearing a smart little black suit of fabric which dog dirt and hair should not be on. A snarfuffle with Otterpop over a treat dropped on the floor. Many times stink eye of guardiness to Otterpop. Chewing of things in the house including the quilt, the rug, the leg of the little wood chest, and several mysterious pieces of paper that hopefully won't be necessary for something of import in the future. Weirdo house barking and lamp attacking for hearing mysterious sounds.
Everything she did, so BAD!
Last week was the week of much badness. The truck thing, most disturbing and unexpected and put me in great fear of her jumping out of the dog run to go after trucks. Some how magically at work I need a new solution of where Banksy will live. And no more agility field at work til this has been undone, since there's not really a way to fence our little field. This one sure seemed to come from nowhere. In Banksy's brain, though, somewhere, and now it's there. I suspect the rest of the badness goes along with it somehow.
Because I don't freak out anymore, I will go along and train her and we will work it all out. It's a bump in the road and there will be more. The last few weeks of goodness gives me something to work towards again, something I know that is in there. So off I go again, time to go train Banksy.
by team small dog at 7:26 AM