A bit about us...

Sam. Sammy. Sammer. Or, more accurately, Trouble on the Hoof. These are the adventures of one ridiculous Labrador Retriever and the girl who brought him home.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Sam Has a Conscience?

When I was little, I would whisper in Dad's ear: "Daaaaad, this is your conscience speakin'. You shouldn't make Missy pick up pine cones. You should let her have a snack before dinner instead." Obviously this ploy rarely worked, but it became a bit of a tradition nevertheless.

Now, this external (and unwilling) imposition of a conscience has spread to Sammer. Our kitchen and living room windows look out over the pool, so we've got a great view of when Sam decides to take a dip without permission. Generally it isn't that big of a deal, but since he's got stitches in, he's not really supposed to be swimming.

The other day, we were in the kitchen and Mom said, "There goes Sammy in the pool." I looked out through the window, then banged on the glass to get his attention. He stopped halfway in, looked up, and then trotted over to the house to investigate. Seizing my chance, I leaned over the stove and said firmly into the vent, "Don't you go in that pool!"

Dad and Mom watched from the windows as I continued to speak to Sam through the vent, which let out through a big white pipe beneath the kitchen window. Sam watched it curiously as I continued to speak to him. "Sam. Saaaam. Sammy. This is your conscience speakin'. Don't go in that pool unless you're allowed."

I could hear Sam start to whine on the other side, so I tried some commands. "Sam. Can you sit? Can you sit?" I waited until Dad told me he'd sat down. "Good boy!" I called into the vent. "Good boy! Can you speak? Speak?" I didn't need Dad to signal me; I heard Sam's answering bark through the vent. "Good boy! Gimme a paw!" I heard the scratches as Sam pawed and whined at the pipe. "Good boy! Good paw!"

I continued giving Sam commands through the vent as Mom slipped outside around the house to try to catch the exchange on film. You can see Sam give me a paw twice, then speak, then continue whining as he tried to figure out how I'd fit myself into that pipe.



Eventually he saw Mom and she let him back inside, but I never revealed my trick to him. This is one ace up my sleeve that I will continue using every time that crazy dog starts an unauthorized aquatic excursion. Hopefully Sam will keep listening to his conscience!

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