Friday, March 4, 2011

It's The Little Things...

It has been my experience that it is the milliseconds in life that make everything interesting. We tend to live for the big things, waiting for grand adventures and momentous moments and sometimes, because of this we forget to notice and appreciate things like a glance or a single word. Maybe a breeze rippling across the grass, or a wisp of fragrance that reminds us of our third grade teacher. We can miss out on a lot by being too busy to notice those tiny moments.


That being said, I must tell you that I have recently acquired a dog. Well, almost a dog. If he was a little bigger he might be a dog. On the day that I picked him up from the breeder, this dynamic doggy weighed in at a whopping 2.4 lbs. His name is Chumleigh and he is a very cute Yorkshire Terrier. He has grown quite a bit in the past couple of months and now weights in at just a hair less than 4 pounds. He may be small but he packs a lot of personality into such a minuscule package. I mentioned him in my last post. My ankles are healing nicely, thank you .
Aside from a penchant for chewing, one of Chumleigh's most developed personality traits appears to be stubbornness; a trait that I personally know very little about, of course, but am trying to temper in him. Unfortunately, because of this character flaw, he and I have recently launched full tilt into a battle of will. It is an epic battle, so fraught with drama and peril that it would make the battle between the Titan's and the Gods of Greek Mythology look like a family scuffle.
As with any battle, there are two points of view. His point of view is that he should be able to pee and poop anywhere he chooses and my view is that he can't. So far he is winning, but I am holding my ground. The thing is, let's face it, he's a Yorkie. We aren't talking about huge, smelly, steaming piles of poop here, it's something more akin to a miniature tootsie roll, but that isn't the point! The point is, it's still on my carpet and more importantly, I'm NOT going to let a three pound dog ride roughshod over me! I WILL prevail!

I looked on the Internet. On all of the websites I found, there were happy little blurbs about housebreaking your dog and how easy it actually is. There were little testimonials and success stories. My own daughter has a black lab that they have trained to ring a bell when she needs to go outside. Doesn't that sound civilized?? I got a bell...Chumleigh loves the bell...he loves to chew on the bell...he hates to ring the bell.
You know what else I found on those websites? Caveat's. "We can show you how to housebreak your dog in 5 days!...unless he's a Yorkie. If he's a Yorkie...well...is your carpet really that nice anyway??"

So we do battle. I read a special website all about housebreaking Yorkies. Yes, it's true. There are websites about breaking everything other dog breed ever classified all lumped into one, and then there are sites about breaking Yorkies. Just them...because...it turns out that stubbornness is their number one, primo personality trait. Yup. 5,000 breeds of dog out there and I had to pick the stubborn one. Why does this not surprise me??

So on this special Yorkie Housebreaking site, I am told that I must never let him out of my sight. He either has to be in his playpen (yes, I have resorted to using my grandchildren's porta-crib as a playpen for my dog) or he must be with me. Always. So I follow him around and I watch him and he watches me back. He says things to me too. Maybe not verbally, but it's there in his eyes. "What? What are you looking at? Can't a dog get two seconds of privacy? I'm not gonna do anything...reallly...nothing bad...at least I don't consider it bad...hey! Was that Bigfoot????!!!" And the second I turn my head he is off to poop under the piano.

I suspect by now you are wondering what all of this has to do with my initial topic. Well, fear not, I haven't derailed. I'm getting to that part. The part about the tiny moments.

Last night, Chumleigh and I were having one of our watching contests. I watched him and he tried to look all innocent and I tried to look stern and severe. I was getting tired of the contest. I have a cold and and I was tired and sick and he was winning, so I decided to trick him. I casually turned my head and pretended to scan the room for Bigfoot. The second my eyes broke free of his he made a break for the piano. Aha! Victory. With lightening speed I whisked him off the floor and through the sliding glass door onto the patio and a second later had deposited him onto the grass. The round went to me. He looked dejected and scuffled over to a patch of dried leaves and proceeded to do his business. Much like a suspicious employer administering a drug test, I required visual confirmation that he had in fact made the requisite deposit. As I watched him I realized that I too was being watched. I turned my head to the right. In my haste to get Chumleigh outside I had not noticed that a few feet from the edge of the patio a deer was peacefully grazing on my lawn. This isn't unusual, (though if it were summer he would have been grazing on my carefully tended flowers), but normally I notice them when I first open the door. There we stood. Me staring at the deer. The deer staring at me. Our gazes locked in uncertainty. His gaze clearly said "Well, this is awkward". I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders as if to say "Hey, it's my yard. I'm SUPPOSED to be here." Instead of bolting, he backed up a few steps and then side stepped to the other side of the yard. I heard him say, quite clearly..."Well...um...I'm just gonna go over here and...umm...ya know...eat or something..."
That's it. There it was. A moment; comprising only a couple of seconds, but it kept me chuckling all evening. I know many of you will not believe that a deer could have a socially awkward moment, or an embarrassed expression on his face, but...well...you weren't there and I was and he did.

It's a little thing but if you pay attention, those little things can make an otherwise tedious day a little more fun, a little more adventurous and a lot more satisfying. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some poop to clean up...

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