Desperate Measures

Things have slowly fallen into a new routine. It’s easier with two dogs, at least, it should be, but when one of your two dogs is Jet, well, just so you understand my meaning I will tell you that I have been working on this sentence for ten minutes. Jet is bored and wants to play and is continually bringing me toys. Jazzmin got annoyed with him and hid under my desk so now I can’t move my chair without rolling it over one of her delicate little toes and I can see the curly q on Jet’s tail sticking out from behind my reading chair and he’s barking at something behind it, probably a toy.

So I’m thinking that you get the idea.

Life with Jet is actually more complicated without Mugen here to correct his behavior, but I am getting results. He doesn’t bark when we’re at the dinner table anymore, he does bring me toys when he wants to play and he used to just sit and bark at me until I got up and grabbed a toy and I have learned that he is the sort of dog that needs mental engagement in a way that Mugen did not. There are so many similarities between his behavior and how Mugen was when he was a puppy that I have had a hard time separating them in my mind when it comes to training. This has been rough because Jet responds very differently to training. I never honed in on one thing that Mugen would do anything for, except hot dogs, and with Jet I have found that the greatest gift you can give this dog is simply two words. “Good boy.”— my daughter just brought me my sweater because Jet has brought it to her four times in the last five minutes.

At least he doesn’t destroy stuff or try to swallow it when he steals it.

Jet has perfected this game to get the people’s attention when he’s bored and I have no idea how I am going to channel this behavior into something more positive. Maybe I need more toys. It all started this afternoon. I was working on a new design for my blog because it’s sorely in need of some updating and just as I was getting ready to sit down and work on the second of four images I needed to put together, Jet came in with my shoe in his mouth.

He didn’t even have that, “I’m in trouble.” Look on his face. No, not this dog. He had his ears sticking straight out and his head was held high and his tail was wagging. The little black dog was quite proud of his accomplishment, thanks.

So I said calmly, “Jet, bring it.” He brought it over to me and put the shoe in my hand and then he let go. Then I asked, “Where’s your toy?” and he ran downstairs right past his toy. Suddenly I heard my daughter say, “Where did all of these SHOES come from?”

Well, I knew without even looking. The coat closet door was standing open, it had to be because that’s where I put my shoes when I took them off. I still went downstairs to see what was going on.

If this had been Mugen, he would have stolen one shoe, chewed the heel out of it and then brought it to me. Thankfully, Jet leaves shoes in tact so I spend a lot less money on his antics, but this blew my mind.

My coat closet was empty. There were no shoes in the floor at all, and I knew that just an hour before, it had been so loaded with shoes that I couldn’t tell them apart anymore.

So I walked further into the entry way and toward the dining room, which is Jet’s usual spot to leave things that he steals when we’re not paying attention. There was a mountain of shoes sitting there and Jet sat on the other side of them with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, slightly to one side, and his tail wagging back and forth across the carpet.

I could almost read his mind in this moment.

“See Mom! I did STUFF! For YOU! See?”

It took everything I had in me to not bust up laughing on the spot.

I waited about ten seconds, then my daughter and I both gave up.

Jet was extremely proud of his accomplishments and made it difficult to pick up the shoes and put them away. Every time we would grab one, he would try to grab it back out of our hands, but I wasn’t having any of that, a firm “No!” was all it took to get him back in line.

I later discovered that while I had been upstairs for four hours working on my blog, my daughter fell asleep on the couch and Jet wanted to play so he kept trying to bait her with shoes, not realizing that she was asleep.

When he finally brought me my shoe, it was a last ditch effort.

He was a desperate man.

Desperate measures had to be taken, so he took them and after all of that shoe thievery, took the chance and brought the shoe upstairs to me.

Just as a precaution, I have relocated my Jessica Simpson ballet flats, which are my absolute favorite shoes, on top of the tallest bookshelf in my office and to make doubly sure that Jet can’t get at them, they are precariously balanced on top of my die cast 1:18 scale model of my MINI Cooper, so they are at the tallest possible point in my office.

Of course, that only makes it more likely that Jet will relocate a barstool, a shoe box and a tea cup and find a way to use these items to get my shoes off of that bookshelf.

When it happens, I will take photos, promise.

And my husband just went downstairs and found Jet with an entire roll of toilet paper in his mouth.

I think I better go walk my dog.