So for awhile now I’ve been trying to teach Callie how to lay down (or is it lie down? I think I’ve been teaching her bad grammar… maybe that’s why this whole lay/lie down thing has been so damn difficult!).
It took way too long. She learned “sit” and “stay” pretty easily. And she definitely knows what “no” and “BAAAAAAD!” mean.
But “lay down?” Yeah, right. She’d just cock her head to the side like she does and her ears hang to the floor (man, I wish I was exaggerating) but she stays right there on her butt.
The other day, though, when I was giving her and Velvet (who, by the way, sits and lays whenever I tell her to, unless she’s too excited, in which case she tries to bite the floor) treats, I decided to try this lay down thing again.
“Lay down, Callie,” I said, pointing to the floor and looking around the room because, well, I just didn’t expect it to happen.
Then I looked at her. AND SHE WAS LAYING DOWN!
I almost fainted.
But I didn’t. Instead, I gave her the treat and proceeded to jump around the kitchen. Callie was wiggling her tail nubbin butt and Velvet didn’t know what the hell was going on.
So yeah, she learned how to lay down. I know because I’ve given her lots of treats since that day and she still lays down when I tell her to – and I don’t tell her to every time. I don’t want her to out smart me, after all.
In other news (I really need to find a new phrase, here, people), I think I’m going to be a horrible mother if/when I ever have children.
Why? Because I found the biggest. effing. tick. I’ve ever seen in my entire 22+ years (I know, that’s not THAT many, but c’mon, that’s a lot of years to see ticks) on this planet. And I freaked out. How am I supposed to deal with a baby shitting/pissing/vomiting on me if, when I just SEE a tick, I push the dog away from me, scream, almost cry and immediately call Pete at work? And WHAT, exactly, is Pete going to do about a tick on Callie WHEN HE’S AT WORK?! Yeah, I’m that girl.
How’d she get a tick, you ask? Oh, Peter decided it was a really good idea to take her… somewhere… near Odessa when he/we was/were down (over? up?) there last weekend.
Not so much, dude.
He ended up having to pull I don’t know how many of the nasty lil critters off of her.
“I think I got ’em all,” he told me.
WRONG. He’s pulled at least a few more off of her since then, but they were all little. Little as in, ya know, NOT FULL OF BLOOD.
Did you know ticks get ROUND and WHITE when they’re FULL OF BLOOD?
I found that out tonight.
The thing’s still on her (I CAN’T DO IT) and when I talked to Pete (I wasn’t joking when I said I called him), he told me to “act like it’s not there.” YEAH RIGHT.