Totally Spoiled

One of the things Dave and I do when we foster a dog is start on teaching them good manners.  We teach them basic commands, like sit, stay, down, wait and come.  We teach them to walk on a leash and hopefully not jump on everyone that walks through the front door.  We teach them not to get on the furniture or the bed and to stay out from under the table when we're eating.  We figure if their new family wants to allow them to do any of those things, they can easily allow it, but it will be harder for them to break the dogs of bad habits if we encourage them.  Some dogs are easier to train (Chiquita) than others (Rondo), but overall we pride ourselves on adopting out well-mannered pups.


The other day I was busying myself in the kitchen, probably making food for the shower, and I kind of lost track of what else was going on in the house.  Dave had some chores he'd been taking care of and Mia was spending her time going back and forth between following me, following Dave and chewing her Kong.  Suddenly, I noticed I was alone.  I didn't remember Dave leaving the house--he would have been near or gone through the kitchen to do so--and Mia's dog bed and crate were both empty and toys discarded on the carpet in three rooms.  Her collar and leash were still in the closet, so I knew Dave hadn't taken her out.

Suddenly I vaguely remembered Dave mentioning earlier in the day that he hoped to take a nap at some point.  So I grabbed my camera and quietly made my way up the stairs.  Sure enough the bedroom door was open and the lights were off.  I peaked in the bedroom only to see this:

Of course.  I could only imagine that Dave just lost the battle.  Mia likes to think that she's allowed on the bed and will jump up there once in a while.  She rarely has to be told more than once to get off and then will happily curl up on her own bed.  Unless she's got us pinned down under the covers, then she just takes advantage and gives us the kisses we normally don't allow.  But since her bed was downstairs I guess she thought that the carpet wasn't good enough and decided it would be ok to snuggle up next to Dave. 

I love the look she gave me of, "Oh, hi.  I'm on the bed now.  It's okay, it's my turn now.  I'll let you know when I'm done, so please leave so I can go back to sleep."

Yes, a well-mannered dog is what we aim to produce.  And occasionally that well-mannered dog is spoiled.

Better still, I'm pretty sure the next day she "finished" the peanut butter and thus earned the right to lick the jar.

Yes, spoiled.  It's a good thing she's cute.