J picked up litter, and then in something she said was “karma,” she found a mean-looking, scha-weet little black Smith and Wesson knife in the grass. It just goes to show you, Maxie, she said, holding it up and away from my nose when I raced over to see what she was looking at, watch out, that’s sharp. You never know what kind of excitement you’ll find when you least expect it. It smelled like fish.
The excitement died down quickly when it took J at least five minutes to figure out how to fold the blade back into the handle. She’s not very knife-savvy but she said she had to figure it out because it wouldn’t exactly look great if she sashayed down the road carrying a wicked-looking black knife. You never know who might think she’s picking a fight.
Buzz says his weapon is holstered right where it belongs, and he uses it to mark his territory about every ten steps. On our walk, he insisted on weaponing a dead black snake lying by the side of the road, then said proudly, “Don’t Tread On Me,” and disdainfully kicked some JRT dust onto the snake with his back feet. Buzz was very satisfied with himself so I complimented him on his warrior skillz.
We walked the long way home, down Burton Road and into the front entrance of the subdivision. Lots of cars zoomed by, and I had to ignore them. J says it’s part of my schooling. Buzz and I smelled hundreds of dogs’ weaponry on that part of the walk! It was awesome. I just wish I could meet them all. Compare weapons, that type of thing.
Later in the morning, while Buzz was napping, J took me to the recycling center with her! I got to sit on a beach towel in the front seat of the Fin! We loaded up two broken chairs, the holey negative-energy pillow, some aromatic bags of garbage, and a couple of empty boxes. The recycling center is just a tiny drive down the road, but I can’t even tell you how exciting that place smells. Sometimes when the breeze is just right, Buzz and I get a faint whiff of it. Only a dog could smell it, so the humans, with their pathetic albino noses, miss out unless they are practically standing in the dumpster. How to explain it! Metallic, rotten, beery, ripe, composted…smells to make us drool. I wanted to leap out of the car and sniff everywhere.
But J won’t let me. She says there could be broken glass lying around, and besides, it’s all part of your schooling, Maxie. You have to learn how to behave in every situation. You have to stay. STAY. She points her finger at me and makes me look her in the eyes. The Big She comes into view. I stay. But man, I hate it. I have to just sit there and watch as she lugs stuff to the various dumpsters. So unfair. I could carry something for her.
On the way back, a song came on the radio. School’s out for the SUMmer! School’s out forEVER! J sang along. Alice Cooper, Maxie! School’s Out!
I whirled around to look at her. Squirrel’s out?! Where? Where?
Not the rodent. Hmmm. We need a new word. Something less squirrelly-sounding. How about…Lessons.
J has been reading up on the Border Collie side of me, and has decided that I need lessons.
You don't have to jog endless miles with your dog (though you can if you'd like) - mental exercises are often the most exhausting activities for Border Collies
JK realized I can pay attention better than I used to when I watched the Belmont Stakes horse race a couple weeks ago. I gruffed at Animal Kingdom, he was my favorite, but he came in 5th to the winner, Ruler on Ice. I didn’t get what was so funny but JK laughed and laughed. Man, that was soo exciting. I really love horses. Oliver and Mae have horses. I’m a little jealous. I would love to race those horses!
So anyway, JK says it’s time to start some “pay attention” lessons. Buzz told me about school. He said a huge yellow car-truck, like a vacuum cleaner, comes and vacuums up all the kids in the morning, then spits them back out in the afternoon. Buzz says his dream was always to get vacuumed onto it and go to school with the sibs when they went, in Montana. I know what he means. My little girl, before JK, used to do that.
When we got back from the recycling center, I followed J around as she set up my pop quiz. She laid some things on the floor, and next to them, a little plate with some delicious treats. Then she told me to SIT. I sat. Those treats were so enticing. I made a move toward them, but the Big She said NO. Sit.
Then J said Find your collar.
I stared at her. Was she kidding? It was right in front of her. Whatever! I walked over and bumped it with my nose. The tags jingled and I licked them. I love licking those tags. And guess what, for that, I got a treat!
Then J said, where’s your ball. Oh, Please. I jumped over to it, gave it a good push. It rolled under the dining room table. I grabbed it and brought it back. And yep, I got another treat.
J said what about Mr. Bill? Oh, nooooooo! Mr. Bill.
Bump Mr. Bill with my nose. Piece of cake. Treat!
Sock, Maxie, find the sock. This one was much harder. I knew the word but I couldn’t figure out what she wanted. I ran over and got the ball. No, sock. Sock. Show me the sock.
It didn’t make sense. J says sock to me when we are getting ready for our morning walk. It’s my job to stand by the dresser while she opens the drawer, then I take her socks downstairs for her. I nosed Mr. Bill and ran to the treats. Nope, sock.
J pointed at the sock. SOCK. I touched it with my nose. Treat! OH, I get it. After that, I went through the treats really fast. I never missed, not even the sock. I loved my lesson but it made me so tired, and the treats made me thirsty. I took a long, satisfyingly-loud and sloppy drink out of my personal white porcelain water bowl with the O-shaped lid. I love that bowl! J petted me and said I did a great job. You have a long ways to go Maxie, she told me. We’re going to add the Squeaker next, then Purple. There’s a lot to learn, words, manners, tricks, exercise, ball catching…It’s just the start of school.
Squirrel! Recess! Gotta go. And after that, a nap. I’m exhausted. Why is J so happy about that?
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