Cervical Collar

Dear Max,

The new obedience collar you gave my mom when she showed you how I was slowly sneaking ahead of her on our long walks is throwing unwanted attention my way.  That wide stiff black monstrosity with sticky straps (you know I'm used to my soft red braided rope) forces me to keep my head up and pay attention.  I've seen something like this on TV, but not on dogs.  But where???  

I know now, it reminds me of the commercials showing people who have been in accidents where the serious announcer in a three-piece suit talks about getting them "all the cash they deserve."

Come to think of it, the other day a stranger yelled over and asked if I had whiplash.    I guess he saw the same commercial.  (Maybe he was looking for an obedient client.) 

Anyway, people we pass shout out lots of different things. 

Max, how about this one, one I've heard several times: "Are you a "Sex in the City" dog?"  I can't figure out what that means yet, but it doesn't seem bad, since they smile at me.

I went to my dad's medical office today to meet a friend of mom's so we could go for a walk with her little dog Molly.  We walked in and his kind receptionist looked at my new high collar and recognized the posture.  I wondered if she thought I might have been in an accident, if I might call 1-800-CASH.

If I did I would be a faker.  

Because, you see, I can still pull mom even with this new collar on.  Will I ever learn?  Will she?


Tobes

Cheating

Dear Max,

What a day today!  For the first day in what seemed liked forever (remember, I'm not even a year old yet) there was no rain, not even any threatening grey clouds.  In fact, there were no clouds at all!  It was screamingly bright, and I was anxious to get outside and run on the grass.  But I can't go everywhere with my mother, and when she's gone I'm sometimes forced to listen to Dr. Phil.  My pop psychology vocabulary is growing.  For instance, I've heard it over and over and I think I now know what "cheating" means.


My mother came back today with traces of smelly blond fur all over her face, hands, shirt, and pants.  She was definitely playing with another dog!  I could tell that from the first welcome-home lick!   What did this mean?  Was I not enough for her?  I was jealous.  I didn't know what to do.

So, Max, I listened to you and decided on (alphadog)obedience(training.net).   I was soooo obedient and submissive.  I sat by her with rapt attention, I cuddled against her feet.   I was hurt and jealous, a new experience.  It felt bad.  But I remembered the good doctor.  That was it!  She was "cheating" on me...I think.


My father had come home the day before and sneaked into the kitchen with a small cellophane bag of chocolate cookies.  He sheepishly held it up and said to my mom, "I bought these cookies at the Weis supermarket, and I felt like I was cheating on you."  You see, my mom is a baker and the cookies at home always come from the kitchen oven.

He was cheating, she was hurt.  She was cheating, I was hurt.


I sound like humans; maybe they're like dogs.




Tobes

Unpredctable

Dear Max,


I like to believe that I am reliably predictable, easy to understand.  Routine is quite important to me and members of my breed and it has a calming effect on our nerves.  My mom, however, is a totally different story and though she has her morning rituals, two fried eggs for breakfast followed by a hour on the treadmill (walking really fast but not going anywhere or seeing anything new!)  I am often stymied trying to figure out the the rest of the day; what will we will do next? what will she say to throw me off?

An example, Max. 

Tonight is Sunday and on this night I am learning that she could pick a fight with Dad just because the "weekend" is over.  (I don't yet get this "weekend" thing since each day seems nearly the same to me, but that's another story.)


The phone rings and it is Helen from the answering service.  Mom is irritated and almost trips over my new but already cleanly-picked butcher's bone as she grabs my dad's outdated flip-type cell phone.  

"You really ought to stop calling the doctor on Sunday nights!" she said sternly.  

"Oh, no one ever said anything about that before," Helen cautiously answered." 

"You see...this is the time I've set aside to fight with my husband for the past 34 years.  I just don't like the idea of the weekend being almost over."

Helen was taken aback, paused, then laughed with Mom and said, "Well, now we know what a twisted sense of humor you have; I will be careful to make note of the Sunday night problem."

See what I mean Max?  Why can't she be predictable....oh....she is.


Now you know never to call on Sunday night.

Good night,


Tobes

A visit with Max

Dear Max,

Thanks for the session, and help with my walking. I UNDERSTAND NOW! I am sure that I will be able to pass the test to be given an official therapy dog certificate. The new short blue leash is nice, but not really my color (any shorter and my mom will look like she is walking a hand bag.) When people see me they will think that I have matured over night (but we know just how long it took :) 

I heard my Mom on the phone with you in the car on the way home. The new collar does not make me want to be "free", and run. She takes me to run everyday. She has decided  to leave it off so I can really let loose.

You see, Max she is doing this for herself. Every second that she watches me run she is free too. I can see her living in a happy moment, because she is smiling at me.

It's very cool to see her think of nothing but me.


I'm a lucky dog.

Tobes