I took poor hot Jasper out for a walk this morning. He thought that was a good idea, until we hit the wall of humidity outside. (Our air conditioner is not working, but it is still a lot cooler inside than out.) We made it to the bottom of the driveway and he stopped. I convinced him to move forward about four more steps, then he sat down. I waited. Then he lay down on the street and put his head on his paws, making it clear that he didn’t care what I thought, he wasn’t moving.
I dropped the leash and headed off down the road. I needed to get the mail and I was going with or without him. It was my bet that he’d panic, just like a small child, when I made it a certain distance away from him and clearly wasn’t returning, but he might have just called my bluff and just gone back to the house to wait for me. I took the chance. Sure enough, about 4 houses away I heard the pitter patter of big feet coming up behind me.
The nice thing about pulling this move on a dog is that he didn’t throw a tantrum afterwards and yell, “You left me!”
Despite how much I love his fluffy stuffed-animal look, I’ve made an appointment for Thursday to get him shorn. He’s just too hot, poor bugger, wearing that big fur coat.
awe he’s going to be embarrassed