I am a dog owner. Rephrase that... a proud dog owner. Wait... a proud owner of a stupid dog. When I say -stupid- I am not trying to imply teasing as if really saying "just kidding, he's a smart dog." I'm serious, Psuchen is a stoopid dog. He is adorably cute, in a crooked sort of way, but as dumb as dirt.
For example, last summer he learned to climb out the bedroom window by using our bed as a stepping stool of sorts. He played in the yard for most of the afternoon. However, it took him over a half hour searching to find his way back to the window to return to the great indoors.
Bekah and I have discovered a fantastic game to play with him. (disclosure: this probably will not work with animals of greater intelligence)
I called out his name from the kitchen to scold him for digging through the trash (again). Normally this irritates me, as I'm sure it does most dog owners.
"Psuchen!" I called. Psuchen comes sprinting down the hall from the living room, jumps the baby gate, and dashes into our bedroom. Confused his human is not there he looks around for a moment. "Psuchen!" I yelled again. Out of the bedroom, over the baby gate, and down the hall to the living room. Despite being out of sight, I'm sure he had the same dumbfounded expression as displayed seconds ago.
We repeated this process two or three times: "Psuchen!" prance, leap, prance, stand confused, then repeat. Finally, he thought to look in the kitchen where I had been observing this routine with my typical passive-aggressive tendencies.
Bekah had been watching us boys play from the bathroom doorway, the midway point in our hall. She wanted in on the fun too, I guess. She called his name, "Psuchen!" as soon as the dog reached her feet, longingly looking up at Bekah, I called. "Psuchen!" Back he came over the baby gate and into the kitchen. "Psuchen!" Bekah's turn. Away from me and over the baby gate. "Psuchen!" Bekah. "Psuchen!" Me. "Psuchen!" Bekah. "Psuchen!" Me. Back and forth the dog ran, from owner to owner, chasing the voice of whoever called.
This continued for nearly twenty minutes. The trash mess was forgotten. How could anyone stay mad at such a simple creature?
I've suddenly noticed some spiritual significance in this post, but I'll save that for later.