The Secret Is Out

How many times I have posted pictures of Kizzy sitting awkwardly on Keith’s lap. Someone should teach this dog how to sit properly. 

I’ve always thought that Kizzy was as trained as she was going to get.  She is good at sitting, she stays, she waits until you tell her she can eat, and she only jumps on people when they first come through the door.  I thought come, don’t bark, and stay away were far beyond her.  I mean, I’m pretty sure she knew it was a command but had no idea how to respond.  

Our interactions always went something like this.  

Cheryl: Kizzy, come.
Kizzy:  (I know she is giving me a command)
Cheryl: Kizzy, come
Kizzy:  (Yeah, I was right, that was definitely a command.  But I have no idea what she wants.  My mom is an idiot.  Doesn’t she know dogs don’t speak English?”)
Cheryl: (Slightly more exasperated) Kizzy, Come
Kizzy:  (Wow, she just isn’t giving up.  Fine, I’ll humor her.) 
Kizzy sits. 
Cheryl: (Fine, I’ll take it)

Kizzy also sits when you say something that sounds like sit.  Like s*it.  That doesn’t have anything to do with this story but I find it rather amusing.  

Over the weekend, we left Kizzy at my mom’s house with all of her guests.  One of her guests was the mother of one of my best friends from high school.  

(Does anyone else have problems calling their friend’s parents by their first names?  I just can’t bring myself to call them anything other than  Mrs. So and So and Mr. What’s His Name.  There are no first names.  First names are awkward.)

 Anyway, Mrs. S. has always commanded respect.  I don’t know what it is but if she told me to jump, I’d ask how high.  She the nicest person in the world but there is just something about her commands that makes me regress to my school days and I immediately listen.  

Apparently this sense of respect extends to dogs as well.  Mrs. S., doesn’t like dogs at her feet when she is sitting at the table.  And within 24 hours of being at the house, Mrs. S. had Kizzy staying out of the kitchen with just a look.  

It started with a squirt gun (I don’t know why this works because this dog loves playing in water but apparently water that is being sprayed is really unpleasant and scary).  Then it progressed to a finger.  And by the time I came home on Sunday, Mrs. S. could send my dog out of the kitchen with a look!  (Although, in Kizzy’s defense, I would probably back away as well if Mrs. S. turned that look on me!)

So now Kizzy has a problem.  I thought she had accomplished her maximum potential.  But it turns out this dog is actually smart!  And since we’ve been home, we’ve had the best behaved dog ever.  I guess it helps that I’ve been carrying around a spray bottle filled with water, but she hasn’t barked and has responded to more commands.  Although “Come” is still completely out of the question.  She does come for “Treat” so I guess that’s something.  I’ll take what I can get.

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