Bet ya can't sock me!

Ray was being bad. Over an hour at the dog park just wasn't enough to shake the fidgets out of him. He was following me around, whining, then when I obviously wasn't paying attention, he went to the front hall and made a big show out of eating one of my running shoes; tossing it around, pretending (my interpretation) to chew it up. He knows this ALWAYS gets a reaction and was trying to entice me to take him around the block.

I grabbed the shoe out of his mouth and tapped his butt with it. Ray looked surprised. I usually just take the shoe and throw it back on the pile next to the door but he was on my last nerve. Ray laid down in the hall, his eyebrows doing the dance. I resisted as long as I could, then grabbed the leash and around the block we went. He has trained me ever so much better than I have trained him.

Later in the day, I passed him, again in the front hall. This time he was playing with one of my socks. He had it dangling from his mouth, then went down in the dog-play stance, forelegs down, butt up. I just knew he was taunting me, daring me to tap his butt with a sock.

He's not stupid, my dog. He knows I can't do anything with a sock. I laughed and grabbed his leash....