I Figured Out Something Today
about our dog, Conan.

The background info here is that he asks to go out all the time. When it is time for him to come in he doesn’t immediately respond. (He always comes for Jon, of course, because he knows who the paterfamilias is.)

Today opened the back door and I called him in. He looked over at me, and then continued to bark ferociously at the bassett hound strolling by on the road. “Conan!” I yelled. And, then, because someone has a temper, I stomped my foot. The second my foot hit the floor Conan dashed toward the door like the ground underneath him was on fire.

I tried it the next time I had to call him in and it worked like a charm.

Part of me wishes that he didn’t respond so readily to my stomping — part of me is glad that something works.

Though, I have a feeling the Dog Whisperer wouldn’t approve.