Napping

Napping is a wonderful thing.   I could get up at noon, and take a nap at 1, and then another at 3, and again at 5, and 7, and 9 and 11 and then go to bed at 1.    I love to sleep.   I am, as my mother once said, the Queen of Sleep.

However.    Maverick does not agree.    Apparently napping is the equivalent of having his toenails pulled out one by one.    It’s a major frustration for me.   I can see he’s tired.   I know he needs to nap for an hour or so.   He won’t go in his crate for me, and he’s now too big and strong for me to try to force him in – not that I would – and he’s too smart, he knows if I toss treats in, and he goes to get them, the door will close behind him.

I pretty much have to wait him out.   And pray that nothing moves or makes a sound,  and there are no doorbells on TV, and he’s finally settled and please let him sleep awhile!

We trained hard on “heel” yesterday.   It paid off when we went out to the field and he thought playing tug with the leash would be fun.   I told him to “circle” and signed for him to come around to my left, and holy carp, he did!    Then we did “forward” till he did his business, and back around and back home.    I think sometimes my husband thinks I’m nuts with the things I do for training – “you bought WHAT?”  at the can of spray cheese – but when  it works, it’s worth all the quizzical looks.

After a truly horrible day this week, I’m starting to see light at the end of this long, long tunnel

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