Couper Goes to Kindergarten - Homework Week 4

As we were doing homework this week, Couper continued a trend that has been driving me insane since we started this Kindergarten stuff. He listens to Couper’s Mommy, but only occasionally listens to his Big Buddy. He may not always do what Couper’s Mommy tells him, but he does at least give a glance before deciding that whatever he was doing is just fine, thank you. When Big Buddy barks a command (barks, get it?), Couper usually just goes about his business. As we are only supposed to call a command or his name once, that leaves me the options of whistling, or snapping my fingers, or stomping my foot. I look like the stereotyped construction worker when a hot babe walks by (Did this ever really happen? Did it ever actually work? Can it still happen now with harassment lawsuits? This has a Dateline NBC investigation written all over it).

I am glad that Couper listens to his Mommy; at least he is getting something from this class. However, I get very frustrated when he does not listen to me. A big part of the frustration comes from not knowing why he listens to me sometimes and not others. Is it the pitch of my voice? What he is doing at the moment? Where I am relative to him? What’s on TV (“What was Big Buddy saying??? I was paying attention to the latest about Brad and Angelina on ‘Extra’. I sure hope they adopt again. Why is Big Buddy whistling and stomping his foot? Does he need to go potty??? Does he think Angelina is hot??? Hey, there’s a Mr. Hiney!!! I should put it behind the stereo! That would be fun… ”)? So at least once a homework session I have a pity party. “Couper, you always listen to your mommy and never to me. You don’t like your Big Buddy anymore. I quit.”

This week, Couper’s Mommy finally had enough. She sat me down and spelled the situation out for me. It went something like this:

"Look, this is new for Couper. He is not used to hearing commands from you. You and he are playing buddies. You have taught him plenty. Think of all the games you two have made up. He is used to me giving him commands. I have been doing it since I got him. It is just going to take more practice coming from you."

It was well thought out, polite, and to the point. It should have been. She had four weeks to practice it. Couper’s Mommy has always been, well, the mommy. Big Buddy has always been, well, the buddy. And you thought these names were just noms de plume for this blog.

Couper has the good fortune of being the first dog I have ever had. How we got Couper, and why I never had a dog before him, is for future posts (like I have this all planned out or something). For the purposes of this post, let’s just say that I have always loved dogs and we lucked into the best dog in the whole wide world (I know what you are thinking, “Who is this pompous jerk who says his dog is the best in the whole wide world. My dog is the best in the whole wide world!” Well, my claim is in writing on the internet. The same internet that brings you football scores and naked pictures of “High School Musical” starlets (no link, sorry. Find it yourself). Your claim is in your mind. The same mind you erode with a case and a half of beer each weekend and which last week said to you, “Let’s watch this repeat of ‘Charles in Charge’. How bad could it be?” I rest my case).

If not the best in the whole wide world, Couper at the very least is a heck of a lot of fun. Couper loves to play and I am almost always happy to oblige him. Even when I am lying on the sofa half asleep, if he sticks a Mr. Hiney in my hand, I will throw it. Couper also loves attention and I have transferred my 38 years of not having a dog into attention to him. (Too bad he can’t read. He would love that he is getting 1000+ words written about him twice a week. To him writing this blog is just something that Big Buddy does between throwing a Mr. Hiney.) Couper’s Mommy calls us “two peas in a pod”. I hate peas. I had epic arguments over peas when I was a child. I refuse to eat peas as an adult. But she is absolutely right and I like when she says that.


So most of what I have taught him involves us playing. But just what have I taught him? And is any of it helping anything?

Catch
The first thing I did when I first met an 11 month old Couper four years ago was recoil at this cute little thing barking at me (hasn’t changed much, has he?). The second thing I did was get him a bowl of refrigerated RO water with ice cubes that he ignored. The third thing I did was go get a tennis ball to see if he would play. Third time’s a charm. I threw it, he chased it, and we became instant best buddies. He loved chasing the ball, but stunk at catching it. Yes, his mouth was a little too small for a tennis ball at that time, but his timing was all off and he was all over the place. Tens (hundreds?) of thousands of throws later, with various balls and toys, he has gotten really good at catching. Sometimes he makes really amazing catches. I wish catching were part of Kindergarten.

I think playing catch is good. It at least has bonded us and has led to other games (below). And so far, I have avoided arm surgery despite throwing more balls than Warren Spahn (You thought I might go blue there, didn’t you? Bad you!).

Not Bringing the Ball Back.
Couper has this strange habit of nudging around with the toy just thrown to him in the area where he catches up to it. He makes it look like he has no idea how to pick up the toy. I have this strange habit of being impatient and wanting to throw the toy again. Probably the fourth thing I did after meeting Couper was go retrieve the ball I threw. I quickly found out that he could not only pick up the ball, he could take off with it. So what he really wanted out of this situation was to play “Chase the Puppy”. Eventually he trained me to throw the ball, walk to where he and the ball were, and then either chase the puppy or pick up the ball and throw it again. Couper’s Mommy is fond of saying, “I remember when he used to bring the ball back, before you taught him this.” I don’t really remember him ever bringing it back, but I go along with it. I hope she doesn’t read this thing.

This is undoubtedly bad teaching. He is controlling me. However, maybe he wants to make sure that I get some exercise too.

3-46-3-46-hut-hut-hut
This is a variation of playing catch, but instead of picking it up the ball and throwing it, I do a three point stance over the ball like a football center and long “snap” it back between my legs (like for a punt). Before I snap the ball, I say “3-46-3-46-hut-hut-hut”, as if I am calling a play. The original point of the game was he would stand in front of me until I snapped the ball, and I would pretend to block as he whizzed right by me.

As time went on, he would jump “offsides” as I went into my “3-46” call. I would then pretend to be a referee calling offsides, complete with hand signals and the announcement to the crowd, “Offsides defense. Number 3. Five yard penalty. First Down!” Couper’s Mommy would groan, but Couper would anxiously wait for me to go get him and the ball. Over time, Couper wouldn’t even wait for me to call “3-46” and upon my doing my center stance, run to the spot where I usually snapped the ball, even if my hiney was pointed in an entirely different direction (the ball follows the hiney).

I guess this is good teaching. He would do something based on either my bending over the ball or calling “3-46…”. If he jumped early, there was a penalty for offsides (bad actions have bad consequences – 5 yards in this case). I have not figured out if running to the usual spot is better or worse than understanding the ball goes where the butt points. (I would love to tell you that “3-46” was some famous play like the Packer Power Sweep, but it is just the first two numbers that popped into my mind. It sounds like a solid football play though, doesn’t it?)

Joe Namath wins the Super Bowl
This is roughly the same deal as “3-46” except:

• I actually throw the ball overhand, like a football pass.
• We have to use Couper’s tennis ball football.
• In my “Howard Cosell for Puppies” voice, I yell, “Here goes Joe Namath to win the Super Bowl!”

Couper has learned to take off to the corner of the yard where the ball is thrown. The rule is if he catches the ball before it comes to a stop, he scores a touchdown and Joe Namath wins the Super Bowl. We have a big celebration. If it comes to a stop before he gets it, Joe Namath loses the Super Bowl. Both results are announced by “Howard Cosell for Puppies”.

A couple of things to note:

• Yes, I did play this game in my parent’s back yard when I was 7 (without the puppy).
• Yes, I am old enough to have seen Joe Namath win a Super Bowl (I was 3) and hear Howard Cosell call a game.
• No, I never grew up.
• My “Howard Cosell for Puppies” voice announces because a regular Howard Cosell voice might scare and confuse puppies. “Howard Cosell for Puppies” is essentially a cross between Howard Cosell and Mr. Rogers. Researchers at independent test labs worldwide have proven this combination of voices to be puppy friendly (please do not look this up).

I think this may be my best teaching game. Couper reacts to “Joe Namath to win the Super Bowl” by running to a selected spot. He learns a real life lesson about winning and losing. “Howard Cosell for Puppies” exults/ admonishes his win/loss; again, just like real life. Finally, he learns history; Joe Namath winning Super Bowl after Super Bowl (all on the last play) and Howard Cosell announcing them (please don’t look-up those “facts” either).

Do-dee-do-dee-do
In our old house, on the patio, we had stucco columns. On these columns, there were rounded ledges (they probably have an architectural name, but I am too lazy to look it up). The ledges were just tall enough that Couper on his hind legs could reach them. We found that we could hide toys on these ledges and when Couper would find them, he would make sure to knock them down (example right with Mr. Hiney). We took this activity to the next level with the “Do-dee-do-dee-do” game.

The game plays as follows: I would pick up a toy and start walking around the columns. At the same time I would start whistling a “casual song”. The song made it seem like I wasn’t really doing anything special, just casually walking around, whistling, like usual (actual time I have spent walking around whistling outside of this game: 0 seconds). Couper would follow me, all the while looking up on the column ledges to see if I put the toy there. At some point I would leave the toy on the ledge, but continue the walking and whistling. Couper would have to keep looking until he found the toy. He got very good at this, again proving he is smarter than his Big Buddy.

Why is this called the “Do-dee-do-dee-do” game? It isn’t. It is called the {whistle the song} game, but I have no audio to insert for “{whistled song}”. It kind of sounds like “do-dee-do-dee-do” and I had to type something. The song is essentially lifted from a tune played constantly in the toy store FAO Schwartz (the toy store in “Big”). When you walk in, you hear a song that goes: “Welcome to our world, welcome to our world, welcome to our world of toys”. If you have been in an FAO Schwartz for more than six seconds, you know exactly what I am describing. If you worked in an FAO Schwartz, you are doing 20 to life for aggravated assault/murder because you heard that song over and over and over throughout your shift (Sorry for reminding you of it. Have some more therapy. Does the warden know you are on the internet???). “Welcome to our World” is to FAO Schwartz what “It’s a Small World” is to Disneyland (This should be an official SAT analogy). So what better song to incorporate into a game of hiding Couper’s toys?

This was a good teaching game as well, I think. I was in charge. He was following. I was whistling a song that leads to heinous felonies. Sounds like good clean fun to me.

Havlicek Stole the Ball
This game starts out with me dribbling a tennis ball while humming “Sweet Georgia Brown” of Harlem Globetrotters fame. There are no similarities between my dribbling and Curley Neal’s or between my song and the actual song. But to Couper, that doesn’t matter. He tries to steal the ball. When he does, we completely shift basketball gears. In my “Howard Cosell for Puppies” voice, I shout, “Havlicek stole the ball!!! Havlicek stole the ball!!!” (a reference to a 1965 playoff game that I probably missed because I was spitting up formula). When I say, “The’re gonna get Havlicek!!!”, a full-fledged Chase the Puppy game is on.

We are going to count this game as good too. I am marginally in charge while dribbling the ball. Couper knows to steal the ball. We all learn about the Globetrotters, the 1965 Celtics, and that Howard Cosell announced every significant sporting event of the 1960s. Even when he wasn’t there. Howard wouldn’t have it any other way.

Wee Wee Woo
This game was born of necessity during Super Bowl XXXIX. I kind of wanted to watch the game. Couper kind of wanted to play. Going outside to play was not going to happen. No TVs outside. Couper was deeply into his tennis ball football only phase. It was the only toy he would play with. Watching TV and blindly chucking that toy across the room, with its strange bounces, was asking for disaster. So I needed a game that was closely contained so that the fine china was safe (paper plates can be fine china, it is all relative).

Wee Wee Woo works as follows (Feel free to try this at home with your little buddy. If you don’t have a little buddy, get one. I’ll wait):

• Sitting on a sofa, cross your feet. Keep the outside edge of both feet on the floor. Being left-handed, I cross my left foot in front of my right. (All game instructions from here on will assume that you are left-handed as well. If you are not, please become left-handed now. I’ll wait.)
• Take the toy ( the tennis ball football really is the best for this game) in your left hand and set it on your left knee.
• If you drop the ball to the right, down your left shin, yell “Wee”. Somewhere in this drop, Couper attempts to pounce on the ball. Usually while it is rolling down my leg, causing 12 pounds of force with claws to tear up my calf and/or foot.
• If you drop the ball to the left, down to the floor, yell “Woo”. This side is usually less painful. Be careful if anybody is sitting on the sofa to your left.
• Soon the little buddy will know the difference between “Wee” (attack your leg) and “Woo” (attack the person sitting to your left).

Amazingly, Couper took to this game. He brought the ball back every time for more. He was mesmerized by the ball sitting on my knee, trying to figure out if a “wee” or a “woo” was coming. So during important plays, it was OK to just leave the ball sitting there. In the end, I got to watch the Super Bowl (and many a sporting event since) and he got to play.

Summary: Educational: Yes. Human in charge: Yes. Painful: Yes. Bottom line: Good


So what have we learned?

• I actually have had some good influence in teaching and leading Couper through playing. I somehow need to transfer this to our Kindergarten training.
• I am using our dog as an excuse to play games I used to play in grade school.
• Howard Cosell impressions (even puppy-modified) never get old. If Rich Little were still alive, he would be doing “Howard Cosell for Puppies” on the Mike Douglas Show.
• Nothing significant in the world of sports has happened since 1970.

Couper Goes To Kindergarten - Homework Week 3

With all of Couper’s new commands from Kindergarten, we decided to try to figure out all the words he knows. If you consult dog books, they will tell you that dogs do not understand English (please do not actually consult dog books to verify or debunk this). I agree to a certain extent. If you put an infinite number of dachshunds at an infinite number of typewriters, none of them are going to write “Hamlet”. Not even with typos. I can put a copy of “A Tale of Two Cities” in front of Couper and he is more likely to chew it than read it. If I sit down with him and watch “Green Acres”, he may laugh at Mrs. Douglass’ hotcakes or Mr. Douglass’ broken-down tractor. However, unlike you or me, he will not fully understand the underlying sociological dynamics between Mr. and Mrs. Douglass, or Mr. Haney as the personification of post-war capitalism, or the allegorical use of Arnold the Pig as a Christ figure. He just thinks it's a silly sitcom. On the other hand, say, “Couper, nighty-night!”, and he knows immediately to run into the bedroom, jump in the bed, and take up as much bed space as a twelve pound dog possibly can.

So the following is a list (incomplete) of words that Couper knows. All words will follow this format:

Word as Couper knows it: (English translation as necessary) (Example as necessary) - Other blathering.

People
Mommy: (Couper’s Mommy) (Example: Couper’s Mommy comes home: “Couper, Is that your mommy???” wag wag wag ruff ruff ruff!!!)

Big Buddy: (Big Buddy) (Example: Big Buddy says something he thinks is clever. Couper’s Mommy says, “Couper, go bite your Big Buddy”. Couper does not bite, but does look at his Big Buddy like, "next time...".)

He knows both his parents by our handles. I have no idea if he knows us by our real names.

Gramma: (Gramma Buddy or Gramma Mommy) (Example: “Couper, your gramma is coming to visit) – We are not sure if he knows which gramma when we say gramma. Maybe he is expecting one and gets the other? Who knows. When I tell him that I am going to pick up Gramma Buddy, he gets excited thinking that we are both going. He does not understand "I" means me, not him. I guess pronouns are 1st grade. When I leave without him, I get in trouble.

Sammie: (Sammie - Couper's cousin) (Example: “Couper, where’s Sammie” – he will go find her) - Though officially not a person, she is probably the only dog he knows by name. I am not creating a category for just one entry.

He knows some other family members by name. To respect their dignity, I will not name them. With almost anybody though, we can say, “{whoever} is coming to visit you, Couper” and he does a big tail wag. The second they come to the door, they get immediately and aggressively barked at.

Sammie update: She is going home on Saturday. She has gotten brave in her last few days here. She takes Couper's toys while Couper and I are playing with them. We expect Couper to attack to get them back, but he generally just sits there and looks at Sammie, then at me, then at Sammie, then at me. I think he is saying, "Big Buddy! You think you're all in charge now, what with the Kindergarten and the 'Sit' and all that. Do something, would you!". I would, but I am too scared of Sammie. So, I find another toy. We're going to miss Sammie.

Food
Yummy: (treat) (Example: “Thank you for pooping, Couper. Let’s go get a yummy” – he will sprint to the door - no yummies for pooping inside - sit on his “yummy mat” in the kitchen, and wait for his treat).

Chicken: (Chicken Jerky treats) (Example: “Couper, come get your din-din. Big Buddy put some chicken in it”. – somehow, hearing this makes him 60% more likely to sprint in for dinner). Chicken is the yummiest of all yummies. At $25 a pound, it ought to be. I am not sure that I have ever eaten anything that cost $25/lb. Possibly never will. Even with rampant inflation. My dog does. Every day.

In the named yummy category, he also knows “ice cream” (freeze dried doggy ice cream – yes, there is such a thing) and he may also know “Liver Biscotti”, and “biscuit”. Not that those are his only yummies, not by a long shot, but those are favorites.

He has a rubber chicken toy that we also call Chicken (or sometimes Mr. Chicken). He somehow distinguishes between the toy and the treat. Someday, I am going to apply for a $2.5M grant from the government to study this phenomena. Not solve it. Just take $2.5M to study it.

Din-din: (dinner) (Example: "Couper, din-din. Your mommy put chicken in it" - seems we have to do that a lot. He isn't spoiled or anything). - I am not sure if he understands breakfast. He is much more likely to skip breakfast than din-din. Maybe it is because we have not come up with a baby-talk word for breakfast. break-break??? Maybe it is because I often sleep through his breakfast and have no idea what goes on at that time.

Cheese: (cheese - the dairy product). The yummiest of human yummies. In cheese is the only way that we can give him his Puppy Prozac. He hates Puppy Prozac. But, say "cheese" (not like the photographers want us to) and watch the tail go nuts.

Bodily Functions
Wee-Wee: (#1)

Poopie: (#2)

Potty: (#1 and/or #2) – This one makes no sense, really, as he Poopies or wee wees outside (usually), not in an actual potty (never). But he goes along with it.

Get the Rock/Bush: (#1 on the selected item) ("Couper, get the rock") - It is amazing how well this works before we are going somewhere and want him to go wee-wee. On the other hand, we never say, "Couper, get the tire", and he goes wee-wee on our car tires in the same situation all the time. Looks like another $2.5M grant for Big Buddy.

Places
Inside
Outside: Inside and outside are what you think they are.

Things
Sofa

Bed: (Human bed or Couper's kennel) ("Couper, go to bed") He knows the difference in this one too. At night, or at human nap time, he goes to the human bed. When we are leaving to go out, he has been very good about going to his kennel. In exchange for the right yummy of course.

Nighty-night: (go to bed) ("Couper, mommy's tired. Let's go nighty-night") - One of Couper's favorites, because it ensures that he is going to the human bed and gets to cuddle. He also knows Nap in the same context.

Bath: (bath) ("Couper, you stink. Time for a bath") - At right, an actual picture of him the last time we said "Couper, want a bath". Other times, he hides under the bed. Obviously, baths are not one of his favorites. I guess when an event evokes those kind of reactions, even a dog remembers the name for it. If we ever need to have Couper lie down in Kindergarten, maybe we should use "Bath" instead of whatever word they teach us (that I won't remember anyhow).

Toys
Mr. Hiney: (A Cuz - pictured right) - I have lost count of how many of these and what colors and varieties he has. Let's just say it is more than are pictured. It is his favorite toy because it is easy to catch, bounces funny, and squeaks. At least some squeak. Some have been squeaked out. Those are the ones we let him take nighty-night when we are thinking straight. It was named Mr. Hiney because it looks like a hiney with feet. Doesn't it?

Mr. Frisky: (Unexplainable squeaky toy). - This toy squeaks too much and is never allowed in for nighty-night.

Ball: (Ball)

I am sure he knows more toy names (Quacky the Duck, Snappy the Turtle?), but we have time and space limitations. Someday, I should do a post on all his toys, past and present.


Verbs
Go: (go) - I am not sure if he knows or cares what the context is. I think to him it just means there is movement, which to him is often good. When we "go" to the vet, it is good. When we get there, it is not.

Down:(get off that chair) - There are a couple of chairs in the house that he is not allowed on. Down actually works. I hope that gets taught in Kindergarten. Since he knows it, I am guessing it won't be.

Couper’s Names
Little Buddy, (Mommy’s lil’) Noop Dog, Mr. Mischief, Mr. Curious, Mr. Silly, Couper Knute, … : (Couper) - He responds to all these. Just not when he is in Kindergarten.

That got to be a longer project than I had hoped for. I am sure there are many words that should be included that are not coming to mind. (Note that none of his Kindergarten commands are included. I don't think he knows them). I think I need my $2.5M government grant to continue.

Couper Goes To Kindergarten - Homework Week 2

This week's homework has involved sitting and loose-leash walking. Rather than detail how that is going (for the record, it could be going better), today we shall talk about the steps we have to go through to just do our homework.

For the last three weeks (and for the next week and a half) we have been taking care of Couper's cousin Sammie. Sammie's Mommy is Couper's Mommy's sister and is off touring Europe. Sammie is part pug and part something else; roughly she is the same size as Couper. Sammie is a rescue dog. Sammie's Mommy has no idea how old Sammie is, but we estimate it at over 100. Not 100 in dog years. 100 year years. 36500 days. As in: if she could talk, she could tell us about the Roosevelt Administration. The Teddy Roosevelt Administration. The Roosevelt with the big mustache.

We worried how Couper would do with Sammie in his territory, but he has mostly been fine. Sometimes he gets a little jealous if Sammie is getting some attention and will try to nose her out of our reach. Also, he has, for whatever reason, decided that he needs to sniff her butt at least 5 times a day. I can't imagine the smell changes much. Is he expecting it to smell better than the last time??? This is either the working definition of optimism or insanity. Maybe both.

Sammie has also been good for the most part. Being 100 years old, she is not nearly as interested in playing as Couper is. That's not to say that she does not want to be included. Every once in a while, she will pick up one of Couper's toys (not tough to find one lying around) and "run" around with it. Once or twice a day, she will get jealous at the attention Couper gets while playing and let him know about it. Usually though, she is pretty content to take naps.

However, one thing that we have discovered that Sammie likes as much as Couper is yummies. This is apparently a new development (Sorry Sammie's Mommy). Like Couper, she now demands them after going potty outside. Despite her supposed deafness, she will run to the door when she hears "all puppys inside for yummies!" Maybe she has selected deafness, like her Uncle Big Buddy.

Sammie having yummies is all well and good, except for one thing; Couper's homework is 100% based on him getting yummies for learning his behaviors. When Sammie is in the room, she wants to be included in this yummy fest as well. It is difficult enough to teach a 5 year old new tricks, we don't even want to try to teach a 100 year old. Sammie gets upset at not being included and generally disrupts the proceedings. And the proceedings aren't proceeding well enough without disruption right now.

So to work with Couper privately, we have to trick Sammie, rush Couper into a room, and quickly close the door behind us. It is not nice. We do not like doing it. But it is what has to happen. Sammie sits outside the door whining and sometimes scratching, but that is less distracting than her being in the room and trying to steal reward yummies from Couper. However, when our session is over, we open the door to give her a little yummy fest of her own.

When we do our loose-leash walk homework with Couper, Sammie has to stay 4-5 steps behind. Otherwise Couper will always charge forward to take the lead. That is the exact opposite of what loose-leash walking is all about. With Couper 5 paces ahead, it is as if Couper is the king and Sammie the loyal subject. If only Couper had a long purple robe that Sammie could help carry.

All that being said, we do like Sammie and she is welcome to stay with us anytime. Even when she is 150 years old. I am sure she already thought we are strange. By no fault of her own, she picked an even stranger time to come visit.

In the end, Sammie is helping us accomplish a goal. By proving that Couper can co-exist with another dog, and with his new training (please let him graduate! please!!), hopefully we can get him a little sister next summer. Couper's Mommy insists on a girl and naming her Godiva. Big Buddy insists on a dachshund (we cannot afford another breed of dog...imagine all the lab merchandise there is to buy). And maybe someday when we are in Kindergarten with Godiva (well before she is 5 years old), we will have to trick Couper and close the door on him so that we can do Godiva's homework.


Non-Kindergarten related Couper/Sammie note:
One thing that Sammie and Couper do together that we do like is what we shall call crossfire peeing. Sometimes when we take them out to go potty, they each will go to separate parts of the yard to pee. When done, they cross each other's paths and each pees where the other one just finished. First off, we like it because it ensures that they both go #1. More importantly, it is wildly entertaining. Well, at least more entertaining than NBC Fridays.

Tomorrow, our long walk from the parking lot to class...wish us luck.

Couper Goes To Kindergarten - The Homework

At the end of class last Saturday, we were assigned 20 minutes of homework a day to do with our dog. As far as we could understand, we were supposed to do the class activities (see Kindergarten - Week 1) at home with Couper. It was only twenty minutes a day because we were told that is a dog's entire attention span for one day. That was shocking. We had no idea it was that long.

I assume when Ms. Puppyteacher told us to do 20 minutes a day every day, she really meant 10 minutes a day every other day. That we actually did about 15 minutes a day most days should put us ahead of the game. Right? Maybe?? Probably not. At least that is what I am going with. We sure can't use the "dog ate our homework" excuse. The whole homework assignment involves him eating.

We were also told that we should not do the homework only in one spot, so that the dog understands that these rules apply anywhere, not just the "homework spot". So we moved the homework to different rooms of the house each time. I am guessing she really meant do homework one time inside the house, another in the yard, another at the park, another at Gramma Buddy's, and so on. That seemed like way too much work for us. It was all we could do to figure out what room to use next. And we really only have five viable rooms (the garage and laundry room are out, I don't care what rules we violate). I am now sensing we are going to be in real trouble.

So, we did homework as best as we could understand, as often as we could, in as many places as we could create. How did we do? Couper responded to Couper's Mommy as if he had been her trained show dog all his life. He responded to Big Buddy almost as if we never met. Couper's Mommy says, "Couper", Couper looks his mommy right in the eyes and gets a yummy. Big Buddy says, "Couper", and he might as well be wearing noise canceling headphones. Nothing. To be fair, my calling, "Little Buddy", my name for him, sometimes got me a glance, but we were told to use his proper Christian name when training him. (For the record, he has had 3 official names, one for each household he has lived, and numerous "pet" names. Sometimes he responds to "Stinky". Maybe I should go with that).

So, I am way behind the eight ball here. There is now no doubt that I am going to fail Kindergarten and be served a restraining order to keep away from my Little Buddy. So I tried the only thing I had left. At the end of class last Saturday we were told that we should absolutely never teach our dog to "shake" or "high five". Well, we weren't just told that. Ms. Puppyteacher went into a 5 minute diatribe about it, complete with pictures, charts, and foot-stomping. Why not shake? No idea. Wasn't listening. I got the overall point after the first sentence. So I tried the only thing I had left; the only noble thing to do. I tried to bribe Couper's Mommy to go down with the ship with me. I offered her $5 cold hard cash, if she tells Ms. Puppyteacher the following: "We did exactly as you told us. We worked with him every day. We used every technique you taught us. It was a gigantic struggle. And finally, on Friday night we had success; he finally was able to high five!!!". Couper's Mommy's response: "No Deal!". $7.50? "No Deal!!". $10? "No Deal!!!". I'm not made of money, so it ended there.

So, tomorrow we go in with what we've got. No stories, no lies. Just a stubborn dog who ate my homework.