A Repeat

Ray's patience was wearing thin. It was past his walk time and I was still painting the stairwell. He stood at the foot of the stairs, whining.

When Ray whines, he makes a sound that is such a high register that it's almost inaudible. Except it's not. It's a sound that gets into your head and makes your eardrums itch. I was having trouble concentrating.

"Stop whining, Ray," I commanded my dog.

"mmmmeeeemeemememeeeeeeeeemeeememmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeemmmemeeeeee," replied my dog.

"Look, Ray, I'll cut you a deal. You leave me alone for 30 more minutes and I will take you around the long block." I said.

Ray stopped whining but only long enough to pick up a corner of the drop cloth that I was standing on and flap it around a couple of times. I laughed. I wasn't buying his bad-dog act. Somehow, I had become the proud owner of a good dog and I knew it. He wasn't going to do anything bad enough to get my attention.

Ray disgustedly spat out the corner of the drop cloth and, by happy accident, tripped over one of my shoes. He gleefully picked it up and went into play stance, forefeet down, butt up, tail wagging. He knows that shoes ALWAYS get a reaction. Except this time.

"Ray, leave the shoe," I said without stopping what I was doing, "Go find your bone."

Ray didn't leave the shoe. He was turning circles at the foot of the stairs, the shoe still between his teeth. He threw it up in the air a couple of times then turned to 'look' at me for my reaction. Nothing. Ray settled down for a nice shoe chew at the foot of the stairs, but his eyebrows were giving him away. They were nervously doing the dance on his forehead.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye to make sure my shoe wasn't in any real danger. It looked a bit slobbery but I didn't see any teethmarks. I finished up the wall and, followed by my trusty hound, went to clean my paintbrush. He stood behind me in the laundry room, whining, then started rummaging along the laundry room shelf.

I knew what he was looking for and, since he'd been a good dog, I gave him one of his favorite treats. A fabric softener dryer sheet.

Ray carefully exited the laundry room (it's a bit tricky for the blind hound to navigate) then trotted off with the dryer sheet to make himself smell fresh all over.

If you haven't seen this before - here it is again. Ray's video of what he does with dryer sheets.