Several times a week the husband looks at me and sighs, “You wanted a smart dog.” I don’t know that I wanted one but that’s what you get with Pomeranians. It was easy to forget exactly what that meant when you had a decade between Poms with a dog who was the sweetest ever but wasn’t deep into the critical thinking.
Freckles had stairs to go up on the bed when she got older. It took her a full year to accept using them. She fought them tooth and nail and only agreed to use them when there was no other way for her to get on the bed. Last week I was sleeping in the guest bedroom because I had been super exposed to COVID (I’m fine so far). That bed was too tall for Nemo to jump up on. I grabbed the old stairs. I showed him how to go up them once. Then I showed him how to go down. The next time I was in that room he appeared on the bed. I gushed at him. “You are the smartest dog ever!!! Look at you using the stairs right off!!!” He looked at me like I was an idiot. “Yeah Mom. I know how to use stairs. Do it every time I leave the house.” I was even more enthusiastic when he was using them to get off the bed. He didn’t get the big deal.
The other day I was reading a book when he deposited a tattered pieced of packaging that said Tommy Bahama next to me and walked away. He’s not one to tear things up that he isn’t supposed to have but he’ll investigate things on the floor. I was confused but eventually remembered that I had gotten a Tommy Bahama lip balm for Christmas. I found the remains of it on the floor where he normally chews his bones. It likely fell off the counter to the floor that day when we were cleaning the kitchen.
Here’s how I imagine it went. Nemo sees the tube of lip balm. “Goody, a new chewy!” He takes it to his chewing spot. He chews on the cardboard wrapper. “Nice, different from my bones but fun to chew on. Oh would you look at that? It seems to have a special treat in the middle. I hope it is cheese flavored. I’ll just give it a lick to see. OMG that’s disgusting! Who would make a treat that tastes like that? I’m not eating that and I don’t want them to every buy this again. I’m going to tell her about it.” Brings remains of wrapper to human and stomps away in a huff.
I was doing yoga. Anyone who has done yoga with pets around knows how that adds to the challenge. Nemo particularly thinks that every forward bend is a play bow. It isn’t unusual for me to get run into full speed from across the room in Child’s Pose.
At one point he brought me his Rudolph toy. He put it by my hand. He very seriously looked deep into my eyes. This was obviously important. I said, “Thank you for Rudolph.” He seemed satisfied that I had acknowledged the gift and left.
It wasn’t until later that I realized that he had taken one of my socks that I had removed when starting my yoga session. He had taken it to the living room, must have seen Rudolph sitting there, and thought to bring it as an even exchange. I was ungrateful and exchanged them back.
Later in that yoga session I was laying on my back in a spinal twist. My eyes were closed. Suddenly I feel teeth close ever so gently around my nose. I said, “Excuse me, sir?” He let go and ran off. He thinks he’s funny.
Yeah, I wanted a smart (ass) dog.