Life with Sam Dogger: Samwise is a Tricksy Dogger

I know I know. I haven't posted a lot this week. It's the first week of back to school for me, so I've been trying to get a new routine going.

Anyway, Sam seems to have taken exception to me being gone so often (and not taking him with me, for shame!), and his displeasure is manifesting in a flurry of thievery. Sam's always been the opportunistic criminal, but recently he's ventured into full blown clinical kleptomania.

Case(s) in point: I came home today and took him with me down to the side of the road to bring in the empty garbage cans. The recycling truck hadn't come yet, so that bin was still full. Sam immediately grabbed an empty chocolate milk bottle and made a mad dash back into the yard with it. I spent the next five minutes alternately chasing, threatening, and tempting him with imaginary treats, all in an effort to return the milk bottle to the curb. Ultimately I got him to trade a stick for it, which apparently is a good deal.

Later in the afternoon, I was sitting on the porch minding my own business, reading Margaret Atwood's Alias Grace for one of my classes, when Sam trots by the porch, smells me, stops, sees me, and starts whining incessantly to be let in. Now, I've let Sam in the porch with me before, and it's only resulted in him trying to get into my lap, destroying a pair of old yard flip flops, or gnawing on pool noodles. I let him in the porch yesterday with me and he actually got a hold of a broken set of wind chimes and pranced around with a metal chime in his mouth. Clearly I was not letting him in the porch again, especially when I was trying to read and take notes.

When the begging didn't work, Sam started barking. That high-pitched, whiny bark he uses when he can see me but can't get to me. I tried to get him to go play with Dad, who was sitting on the swing in his shop, but no, Sam would not be deterred. So finally I got up, went outside, and went over to the shop swing with Sam in tow.

Mistake. Don't ever appear to have free time while you're outside with Dad. I was immediately put to work pruning tree limbs Dad complained would hit him when he was mowing. Dad cut the limbs down and I chopped them into the required 4' long pieces. Or rather, I chopped the ones I managed to claim, since Sam stole every new branch that fell down and frequently returned to make off with limbs I'd already cut and stacked in piles. No, my usual neat piles of evenly-cut limbs were an impossibility today. Not with The Artful Sammer on the loose.

Eventually we got all the limbs out to the road, and of course, Sam had to grab one and make another mad dash back into the yard. I went after him, but had nothing to trade with this time, since he was the one with the stick. I managed to fake him out by telling him to look for Nelly, then grabbing the stick and running like crazy back for the driveway while his back was turned. Dad ran interference for me and I made it safely to the road.

Afterward I was enjoying the last sips of my tea from Subway, when Sam snatched that out of my hand, straw and all, and ran off with it. Eventually the top came off and the ice spilled out, which distracted him enough for me to get the cup back. Unfortunately it was a bit late for me to save the tea, though. Sorry dog.

(Side note: a flock of six or seven Canada geese has taken up residence in the neighborhood lately, and I've been sorely tempted to let Sam offleash near them. Not so he could terrorize the birds, but so the birds could terrorize him. They wouldn't fly off, they'd gang up and peck him. And I think it's a life lesson Sam could use. Character-building, if you will.)

I don't have photographic evidence of any of this because it was drizzling throughout the entire afternoon, and I didn't want to get my camera wet. But I do have pictures of him once I let him in the kitchen afterward, soggy and thoroughly unrepentant.