Dog Training and Trick Stage Has Been Reached

It hasn't been quite a month since our newest acquisition of fuzzy, black dog number three. But, in the short time Bob Barker has been with us, the four-legged contingency in our humble abode seems to be adapting quite well. In fact, Bob is taking to training very well.

Lilly has taught Bob that if he flops over on his side when I try to get him, he's much harder to pick up. Ace has successfully shown him that my lap is an open invitation any time he wants attention. Bob has even tapped into his genetic pool bag of tricks by staring at me with those doleful, brown, spaniel eyes. Bob's even trained my son. When I get those looks, my son -- the voice of oppressed pets everywhere, will chime in with "don't you wuv me Phiwup? I wouldn't have to stawe at ya like dis if ya'd onwy feed me more often." I'd like to see Victoria Stillwell or Cesar Milan against the indomitable duo that is my son and his dog.

Don't get me wrong, though. Bob Barker is not stupid. He's learned some other interesting tricks as well. As a howler, he can harmonize with either Ace's or Lilly's barking. Soon, he'll have all three of them harmonizing together. Bob's also learned how to use the bathroom in the yard, as opposed to the kitchen, or bathroom, or living room, or... You know. He learned that if he spreads his legs apart, he's a lot harder to get into his kennel at night.

Best, or worst of all, he seems to have figured me out some. When my wife and son aren't around, Bob will sit a short distance away and watch me. Then he'll creep really slowly up to me (as if stalking prey?). He'll keep his eyes on me and we'll watch each other. Then Bob will put his head on my leg and give me that doleful look. How can I not scratch him behind the ears when he acts and looks so cute at me like that?