Chapter Three: Puppy Obedience

Wednesday, January 13

Well, it has been a pretty quiet week so far, with just me and Margi and the Big Cheese. All it has done is snow. And snow and snow and snow. We go out a couple of times a day to shovel the driveway, which is fun until my paws ice up, and I have to sit down to try and thaw them out. The sun came out briefly this afternoon, and TBC decided it was time for some more pictures. I sort of fell/jumped/was pushed off the edge of the deck into a snowdrift. TBC thought this was a great picture taking opportunity, and happily snapped away while I floundered around trying to find a footing. Eventually I made it back to the deck, and instead of being glad to see me again and helping me back up, he was saying things like, "Yeah, good , hold it right there. Good Hamish. Hamish, look this way". I don't remember them covering that in puppy obedience.

Speaking of which, the latest command is "Down". "Come" I can understand, because if you don't come, how can you get your kibble? And "heel" simply means "Follow the kibble, stupid". Even "sit" makes sense in a perverted human kind of way, because it is rather more couth to eat sitting down. But "down"? Why down when the kibble is up. I have to admit, it took me a while to realize that I am supposed to listen to what they are saying. I thought that if you wanted a kibble you sat down.

Friday Jan. 15

I'm a travellin' dog. Well, almost. I have my rabies vaccination certificate and I am all ready to go. TBC is talking about a trip to Stowe some time this winter, and I guess they are going to take me. We are going to meet Nancy there. Yesterday we went in to see Dr. Yett again, and I got another puppy shot, plus the rabies. Dr. Yett's office is a really exciting place, what with all the dogs and cats, and piles of dogfood bags in the corners. She always makes a big fuss over me, so that I don't mind the needle part too much. The needles seem to just go on and on. Next month I will get kennel cough and Lyme disease vaccinations. They have to run out of diseases to immunize me against pretty soon. Did you know, Nancy, that they now have a recombinant DNA vaccine for Lyme Disease? Dr. Yett was telling TBC about it. You don't think I might turn into a giant lime after getting the shot, do you? I did feel a bit green after yesterday's shots. Maybe we should think twice about this. I weighed 5.8 pounds on Dr. Yett's scale, which would be a pretty fat lime. Dr. Yett thought my weight was just right.

Saturday Jan.16

Another puppy obedience class this morning. Margi was off at a bagpipe rehearsal, so TBC and I went on our own. I threw up in the car on the way there, but ate most of it before TBC looked around. I was doing really well with my sits and downs. Now they are talking about 6 second stays. That's a long time for a puppy to sit still. I also overheard TBC asking about the next level of obedience classes, which start at 4 months of age. I guess I would like that. Playing with the other puppies is really fun, but there might be a bunch of big dogs too.

This afternoon we shoveled off a place for me to pee outside the patio door. Or at least this was the idea. The snow is packed enough now that I can climb up the snowdrift. My shoulders may be getting wide enough that I can't walk through the fence any more, but I'm not sure. Field trials are in order. I'll let you know.

Monday, Jan. 18

Spent the morning moving all my toys underneath the sofa. That way, they will be safe if anyone breaks in. Also, it will be more convenient in the evenings when we are all sitting on the sofa reading or watching TV, so I think it was worth all the effort.

I almost choked to death yesterday. Margi gave me a piece of apple, and I was pretty hungry ( a perpetual state in this house) so I just swallowed it. It stuck in my throat, and, showing great presence of mind, I immediately started yipping for help. TBC came and looked at me, and said, in an interested sort of fashion, "Well, if he is making all that noise, he certainly has a patent airway". Isn't it great to have a decisive physician around who will take charge in an emergency? I finally managed to swallow it, and now I get much smaller pieces of apple.

After that we walked out on the ice dunes. Pretty impressive, except there are crevices in the ice three or four feet deep which are covered by soft snow. Even TBC decided after a few minutes that this was not a good idea. Heck, I would have pulled him out. Maybe.

Wednesday, January 20

Yes! Yes! I can still get through the fence. Mind you, it is getting to be a tight squeeze. There were snow drifts blocking my way, but the snow was hard enough that I was able to climb on top of the drifts, and squeeze down between the house and the snow. The first time I tried, I got my head between the spokes on the fence, but my shoulders wouldn't fit. A few minutes later, I tried again, and with a bit of wiggling was able to get my head and shoulders through. That only left my -er- stomach, and that was the part that was a really tight squeeze, but I eventually made it. I think TBC must have been watching all this from inside the window (just the sneaky sort of thing he would do) because no sooner was I outside the fence than he appeared and grabbed me. Ah well, it is the principle of the thing which is important.

Also, and I have to thank TBC for showing me that I could do it, I can now get down stairs myself, as well as going upstairs. This is an important accomplishment which will greatly expand the amount of mischief which I can get up to.

In the evening, we watched a good Scientific American program on the intelligence of animals on TV. The program started with a bunch of psychologists teaching sea lions to discriminate between numbers and letters. To show that I understood this "categorization by class" I barked, fiercely, every time a chimpanzee came on, but ignored other types of monkeys. I thought that was pretty good. If anyone wants to fund me, I could work on these skills.

Saturday, January 23

Spent all day driving back and forth to London. Margi was up really early and off to a band rehearsal. TBC and I got up at the usual time, and drove in to my obedience class. I didn't do too well with my comes, but it wasn't my fault. The other dogs kept distracting me. You remember Max, that great big sheep doggy something or other who is supposed to be really shy? Well, he decided he was going to chase me round and round the room. Which was O.K., except when TBC called me and I came and sat in front of him like I am supposed to, Max bounded up and knocked me over. Even Sweetcheeks was picking on me. He decided it was fun to stand on top of me, which was like being trapped under a giant floor mop. I know Sweetcheeks isn't too bright, but you are supposed to play with the other dogs, not stand on top of them. Like, I could have been lost for the whole class. "Where's Hamish?" "Oh, Hamish is under Sweetcheeks, but you can't see him because of all that hair". I did better at heeling, when the other dogs were sitting on the side. As a matter of fact, Doug, the guy who teaches the class, told TBC that my off lead heeling was better than some of the dogs in his pre novice class. A lady by the name of Janine Jansoo was there. She breeds Cairn Terriers, and she and TBC were talking after the class. She was showing him how to pluck me. Like a chicken. This I need? Anyway, TBC asked her if she would be prepared to "handle" me at a conformation show. Whatever that is. Handle? Well, I guess, as long as it doesn't get out of hand. Ha Ha.

After the class, we found Margi in a house in London and drove back home and I slept most of the afternoon. Then we drove back up to London again to drop Margi off at the place where she was playing. Actually, she wasn't playing playing, she was just making a lot of noise with her bagpipes with a bunch of other people, and I guess there were a bunch of other people there who turned up just to listen. Then we drove back to Port Stanley and TBC and I watched TV for awhile and then Margi came home and we all went to sleep sitting in front of the TV set.

Tuesday January 26

Funny thing happened last night. We were all sitting on the sofa watching a program of Celtic music. The program was pretty noisy, with bagpipe music and Ashley McIssac, and step dancing and stuff, but I was snoozing and not paying too much attention. Then a group of Cape Breton singers started a waulking song, and I went crazy. I don't know myself why I did it, but there I was in front of the TV set barking furiously. My tale was firmly between my legs, and I was using the deepest and scariest bark I know how to give. I kept this up until they stopped the song, and then watched the rest of the program quietly. TBC says that this proves that dogs (well, cairn terriers, let's not generalize) have a racial unconscious. His theory is that the people who were waulking the cloth used to rhythmically kick the cairn terriers under the table.

I sort of startled him earlier in the evening. He didn't know I was under the couch and sat down to read the paper. I popped my head out, but I had been lying on my back, so my head was upside down and I was grinning up at him. You have to do things like that to old people to keep them awake.

Wednesday, January 27

Hey, Nancy, those field biology courses sound like fun. Maybe you could find one on studying Cairn Terriers in the Wild. Then you could explain to TBC that playing "come" when you are inside is one thing, but to expect me to come when I am outside is a completely different dish of cats (I may have that metaphor mixed). We were outside today, and he did something with my lead, and then I started over to check out Sparky, and I got half way there and then he called me and of course I ignored him. The next thing I knew there was a jerk on my collar, and he was reeling me in. We repeated this a few times, and it finally dawned on me that I may have to come even when I am busy doing something else. This is not a good turn of events.

Saturday, January 30

They have been plucking me all week, and today they went out and bought a roll of chicken wire. Chinese chicken wire! If they wanted a pet chicken, why didn't they buy one?

They then stapled the chicken wire to the fence that was supposed to keep me in the area between the deck and the patio door. This is a good news bad news situation. The bad news, of course, is that I can't walk through the fence any more. The good news is that I can be outside all by myself. There are sticks to chew on, and piles of dead leaves to explore, and I am learning to dig, except of course the ground is frozen. It is also a good place to pee, especially when they forget and close the laundry room door.

Last puppy obedience class this morning, and I now have a pretty impressive certificate attesting to the fact that I have graduated from the puppy socialization course. Doug and Linda handed out graduation hats which they wanted us to wear for our graduation pictures, except mine was big enough to sit in. Most of the other dogs are starting their beginner obedience course right away, but I am going to wait six weeks for the next Saturday class. TBC says we have to do a lot of practicing so that I don't forget what I have learned.

Sunday, January 31

A beautiful sunny day, and we went out for a really long walk after lunch. Then I got to spend a long time in my new chicken coup while TBC and Margi finally took down the Christmas lights on the outside of the house.

Tuesday Feb. 2

No ground hogs in the chicken coop, so I guess we are going to have a short winter. Most of our snow is gone.

I have a new choke chain, which isn't as bad as it sounds. It is annoying, though. Now when we go for a walk, every time I start to explore something interesting, I get jerk, jerk, jerk. Is that what TBC wants me to think about when we go for a walk? The jerk on the other end of the lead?

Got to spend all yesterday afternoon in the basement. What a great place to explore. There is a cupboard with a hole in the bottom that you can crawl through, and a pile of old feed bags, and pieces of kindling to chew on. Dark corners and endless possibilities for mischief . So after a busy afternoon, I slept all evening until you called Nancy. You know, I hadn't realized that when TBC and Margi are talking on the phone, they can hear you on the other end. What a neat idea! Funny that they can hear you and not see you.

Did I tell you that I got an e mail a couple of days ago from my dad, Maxwell Smarty, in Perth? I had better be careful what I say on my web page since he is reading it. Anyway, he thinks I am cute and intelligent. Probably all fathers are like that.

Friday, February 5

Guess the big news is that my teeth have started to fall out. Margi got all excited by this, and was wondering if it was her fault. TBC says she has this free floating guilt thing, which is certainly something I will bear in mind. Unfortunately, TBC simply does not believe in guilt.

Anyway, after benignly ignoring my tooth loss for a couple of days, he took pity on Margi and got on the internet and found a site which said that puppies front teeth normally fall out at 4 to 5 months. For some reason Margi had thought that puppies did not get their second set of teeth until 8 or 9 months.

TBC has let me come over to the village with him every morning this week to get the paper to pee on. Then he comes home and spends a long time looking at it. I don't know if he is trying to decide whether to pee on it himself, or not.

Yesterday we got the yearbook of the Cairn Terrier Club of Canada, and TBC was showing me pictures of my ancestors. Both Mom and Dad have their pictures in it. I look a lot more like Dad than I do like Mom. As a matter of fact, I think I really look a lot like Dad. His ears may be darker than mine.

Saturday, February 6

I don't know if TBC and Margi know it yet, but there is something living in the chimney in the chimney in the living room. I discovered it last night when I snuck in behind TBC, and got shut in by myself. It makes scrabbling noises above the damper. Anyway, TBC was reading in the family room, and Margi was making dinner, and they didn't miss me for about 20 minutes. Finally I had to let loose with a salvo of furious barking, which got a "Where's Hamish" response. Duh. They should keep better track of me.

I thought we were going to puppy obedience class this morning, because we drove up to London. We drove in to a place where there were a bunch of other cars and people rushing around and loud noises and noxious smells. I thought it must be a variation on puppy obedience, since at out last session Doug had been introducing us to crutches and wheel chairs, saying that it was good to teach puppies not to be frightened of different situations. I figured that TBC, in his usual fashion, was simply exaggerating the lesson about 100 fold. But we looked all over, and there weren't any other dogs There were a bunch of nice people in the waiting room that I made friends with. After about 20 minutes TBC paid a bunch of money and we got back in the car and drove home. So I am not sure what that was all about.

Monday, Feb. 8

Two exciting days. Sunday we spent all afternoon in the basement moving boxes around. I invented a great game that involved me grabbing something that I figured I wasn't supposed to have and running like hell. The point of the game was to get up two flights of stairs and under the bed before TBC caught me. Then he came up stairs and swore and poked at me and eventually went back down to the kitchen and got a kibble to coax me out. Well, it was a great game until they closed the door at the top of the basement stairs. So I had to be content with collecting the stuff I wanted in a pile at the bottom of the stairs. Most of it got confiscated at the end of the afternoon, but I did get to keep a small cardboard box and a 35 mm film canister. Anyway, the basement is a great place, with piles of boxes to climb on, and other piles of stuff to wiggle under and dark corners to explore.

Yesterday was the fireplace fiasco. Remember the thing which I discovered a couple of days ago in the living room fireplace chimney? Well, I was right. It was an animal. TBC and I heard it at noon while we were having lunch in the sunroom, and he called a fellow called Ian Forsyth, who had a good Scottish accent and looked like Inspector Frost on A&E. His cousin is a piper for the Queen when she visits Edinburgh Castle. Anyway, Ian said it was a racoon, but ir was going to be a real problem getting it out because of the cement cap on our fireplace. Ninety minutes of wild excitement ensued. Ian moved a vacuum cleaner and a bunch of chimney sweep brushes and all sorts of other interesting stuff into the living room and then started to make loud noises to try and scare it back up the chimney, while I ran around and helped and sometimes went outside to see if it came out. Nothing seemed to work, but it was fun. I will say one thing for TBC. Margi's approach to these situations is usually along the lines of, "Let me put Hamish in the laundry room where he will be safe", and TBC says "Naw, he wants to watch". To make a long story short, the chimney guy had to go to Kitchener for another job on Tuesday but promised he would be back first thing Wednesday morning to cut the cap off the chimney so that he could poke one of his long brushes down. In the meantime, he filled the fireplace with foul smelling moth balls, which racoons especially do not like (I can understand why) and TBC left the radio on really loud. The racoon may have left overnight, but I can't be sure. I will keep you posted.

Wednesday Feb. 10

The raccoon is still there. Shoot! I have been barking every time I pass the fireplace, and really thought that I had got rid of it. I even had thought that I might go into business. I could have had cards printed which said:

Hamish Magruder's

Raccoon Service

Reasonable rates

Oh well. Mr. Forsyth is coming back tomorrow, and I will watch carefully what he does. Except I have a Vet's appointment for my final shots. I will tell Dr. Yett I am in a hurry.

Thursday, Feb. 11

Yes! Yes! I knew I could do it.

When Mr. Forsyth arrived, the raccoon had moved out. I watched him put wire around the top of the chimney. Guess I would have a bit of trouble climbing the ladder. Maybe I will need an assistant for the ladder work. But I will be good at the digging, which I was practicing this morning

.

In to see Dr. Yett this morning. I think I have now been vaccinated against every disease known to veterinary science, including, this morning, Lyme's disease, and kennel cough. I think the only thing she has missed was anthrax. Heck, I bet she could have got some old vaccine cheap from the military. I have to go back for a final booster of the Lyme disease in 3 weeks. Her old Golden retriever Blue is a bit catatonic. He just stands there in the corner of the office, trying to ignore my social overtures. Maybe he never had puppy socialization classes. Dr. Y. was asking about my classes and is going to get in touch with Linda.

Saturday, Feb. 13

Sometimes you have to do things to make the people you live with feel good. Margi is delighted because I went into the living room this morning and listened to her practice her bagpipes for an hour. TBC says that this is an act of devotion beyond what any cairn terrier should be expected to do, but Margi thinks I am becoming a music afficionado. It was better than the chain saw which TBC and I encountered on a walk this afternoon. Now THAT was a scary sound. I didn't want to go anywhere near it, and TBC had to pick me up and carry me past.

Sunday Feb.14

Happy

Valentine's Day

Nancy

Tuesday, Feb. 16

Dog Oh Dog did I ever have a scary experience today. We went up to London to do some shopping, and then TBC pulled in to a gas station to get some gas. I guess he must have taken a wrong turn coming out of the station, because all of a sudden we were heading into this dark tunnel, and water was cascading down over the car. Then there were hundreds of big red tongues which came down and were wiggling all over the car. I could tell that we were going to be swallowed, and tried desperately to escape, but the weird thing was that TBC and Margi just sat there calmly. I mean, I guess there is a place for fatalism when you can see the whale's tonsils, but surely they could have done something. Five minutes later we were spat out the other side, and drove off as if nothing had happened. It's a weird life.

I hope these things don't happen to Gracie. Margi was talking to Pat Knowles yesterday, and Gracie has started her obedience classes already. No more treats, no more playing with the other dogs and choke collars all around. Oh boy. I guess I had better start paying attention when TBC puts my choke collar on. I am starting to get the hang of things. My classes start on Mar. 20.

Friday, Feb.19

Something is up. I'm not sure exactly what, but there is a sense of rushing around and getting ready for a new adventure. Dogs can sense these things you know. The old toilet training also seems to be intensified. Now I have to either go outside or use the newspapers in my exercise crate, which sort of curtails my freedom of expression. I guess I made a mistake yesterday when TBC and I were in the basement. TBC was doing something incomprehensible to his skis and ignoring me (again), so I peed on top of a stack of drywall. Heck, it felt like newspaper. What am I supposed to do? Read it first?

Monday, March 1

Sometimes you make the wrong decisions when you are just a puppy, but sometimes you make the right decisions. Remember a long time ago when I said that I was never going to get carsick so that TBC and Margi would take me on lots of trips with them? Well, dog, that was a right decision.. I am just back from one of the most exciting weeks of my whole life where I found out what going on trips was all about. Let me tell you about it.

We left last Saturday morning after much rushing around to get the car packed, including my exercise crate and my sleeping crate and a bag with all my toys in it and a big bag of kibble. Then we were off down the 401, which I had not been on since that first fateful journey from Toronto to Port Stanley. I had almost forgotten about semi trailers, but on this trip I wasn't going to take any nonsense, so I barked myself silly at the first half dozen we passed. After that, I figured I had showed them not to mess with a car with a cairn terrier in it, and ignored them for the rest of the trip. Our first stop was in the IKEA parking lot in Hamilton where TBC went in to buy something or other, and Margi took me for a walk in the parking lot to meet all sorts of nice people. We sure visited some interesting parking lots on the trip. Margi says that she had no conception of how much garbage accumulated in your average parking lot at the end of winter until she started looking at it from a cairn terrier's perspective. I am a lot closer to the ground, and I don't miss much, especially if it might be edible. And I always check it out, much to Margi's disgust. Anyway, our next stop was at the border, where the customs guy wanted to know if we had my papers. Why is everyone so concerned about what I am going to pee on? Then on to a conservation area near Rochester with long grass which rustled in the wind. They let me out on a 25 foot cord, and I could smell mice, which I tried chasing, but didn't catch any. Good spot, though. Back in the car, and on to a Holiday Inn in Syracuse. Motel rooms are really interesting to explore, although they don't give you much room to run. I spent about 45 minutes sniffing around, with TBC and Margi staring at me. Did they think I was the sort of silly puppy who would pee on the carpet? That only happened once on the trip, and it was a very small spot, because Margi caught me in the act and it was an accident anyway. No, most of the time I went outside, or else in my exercise crate, which they set up in whatever room we happened to be in.

After giving me a couple of hours to explore the room they left me in my exercise crate and went out to dinner. I didn't think much of this idea and let them know it. Apparently they had told the maid to come and get them in the dining room if I was making any fuss, and she didn't, and if I yipped who is going to know about it? I'm not telling, and they are giving me the benefit of the doubt. I was yipping when they came back, but a noisy group of people had just gone down the hall. This is the most difficult thing to learn about motel rooms. You have to ignore all the noises in the corridor outside. It doesn't seem as if you should, because its your room, and if people are walking by, you would think you should bark, but you aren't supposed to. We stayed in different motel rooms 3 nights, and by the last night I was getting really good at ignoring people outside the door.

I slept soundly in my usual sleeping crate, and then we loaded everything back in the car and pushed on for Stowe. I get to ride on Margi's lap or in the well at her feet, and this is really nice, because I have a bunch of toys to chew on in the well, and they stop the car every couple of hours to let me out. We arrived at Stowe, and drove up a mountain and there was two or three feet of snow on the ground, and we stopped at a big building built on the side of the mountain and started to unload the car. There was a flight of stairs up to a landing and then another flight of stairs and then you walk into the dining room and kitchen which has a balcony facing in one direction and then another flight of stairs up to a living room with a fireplace and a couple of chesterfields and another balcony looking in another direction and then another flight of stairs up to a huge bedroom with the biggest bed I have ever seen and the bathroom. What really blew my mind was that the stairs were all carpeted with broadloom, so that a cairn terrier can race up and down at top speed. Not like the stupid stairs at home which are tiled. So we took everything in from the car, and I got to race up and down the stairs for about an hour. We stayed here for 5 nights, and it was really great. The balconies were scary, because if you had fallen off you probably would have rolled to the bottom of the mountain, but we didn't go out on them very much. I think the whole complex is sort of like a big kennel which allows people to stay too, because there must have been at least ten other dogs there, and I got to meet a lot of them including the manager's dog whose name was Alice. Another puppy was the same age as me and was called a Glen of Emall terrier. Sort of a funny looking terrier, if you ask me, about twice my size, with long hair. Still, we had a lot of fun playing together. I went for a lot of good walks on the mountain. There was a thing behind a fence that made big clouds of steam. I didn't know what it was at first, and barked at it, but then found out that it was a swimming pool.

I was pretty tired that night after all my running up and down stairs, but was up for more excitement the next morning when all of a sudden they put me in my exercise crate and left. I admit that I did make a considerable fuss, but apparently the sound insulation in this condo is impressive. They were back for lunch and then went out for another ski in the afternoon, and this time they put me in my sleeping crate in the bathroom and turned out the lights. Talk about a dirty trick! I had no choice but to go to sleep, but it was probably just as well anyway because who should arrive next but Nancy! Imagine Nancy being able to find her way there all by herself.

So we had a wonderful 4 days, with either Nancy or Margi staying with me in the condo. Nancy thought I had really grown, and that my coat had really changed colour a lot. The only black left is on my nose and the tip of my tail. Nancy is so great to play with. She loves playing chase, and with the three different levels and all the furniture it was great, and we had dinner in the condo every night with me under the table. I got to go cross country skiing one day on the end of my 25 foot cord. That was pretty tricky, not to get dragged or tangled up. It worked best when I ran along beside TBC and Nancy and pulled Margi along behind. We saw a big horse pulling a sleigh (same idea), but didn't get too close, which was probably just as well. All in all, we skied about 1.5 Km. which I guess is a pretty short trail for the others, but I thought it was exhausting. That was the day we left, and had to stay in another motel, but I was so tired that this time I barely noticed TBC and Margi leaving for dinner. I almost forgot. That afternoon, I stayed at a doggy day care place in Stowe. It was actually a grooming parlour, but for $2 an hour they let me stay in a pen in the corner and watch the other dogs being groomed. Not as much fun as the condo, but the condo was booked for someone else.

We got home last night and I ran around and checked all the rooms for monsters and then got out all the toys which I hadn't had with me and chewed on them. Especially my sheep who I really missed. We had a long dinner in front of the fire while I lay under the table and heard about what a good dog I had been. I love traveling.

Thursday, March 4

Well, things have been pretty slow since we got back. Eating and sleeping and watching TBC and Margi run around trying to put together an historical walking tour brochure. Walking tours sound fun, but I don't notice them taking me on it. Actually, we drove the route on Tuesday, and they kept pushing me out of the way so that they could write stuff down. Sometimes I get totally ignored.

Speaking of eating, we were in to see Dr. Yett today for my final Lyme Disease booster, and I had an interview with the dietician. I now weigh 8.2 pounds, which the dietician thought was just right. Dr. Y says that I had a wonderful disposition when she first met me and it just keeps getting better, thanks to the way I am being raised. Ha! If she only knew the indignities to which I am subjected. Maybe I should give her my web page address. Anyway, she thinks I would do really well at either conformation or obedience shows. She doesn't seem to think that my overbite is too significant. Apparently Mrs K and TBC have been talking about a dog show in Toronto on May 30. Between you and me, Nancy, if it keeps me from getting castrated, I am all for it.

Saturday, March 6

It snowed all night Friday night. Margi got up early to go to a piping workshop in London and dumped me in my chicken coop which had about a foot of snow in it. She actually expected me to pee? Ha! I would like to see her pee in snow up to her ears. I did what any sensible dog would do, I came back in and used my crate. Actually, I hadn't used my crate for a long time. I decided when we got back from Stowe that I would go outside instead, but I had not counted on a foot of snow. Later in the morning they shoveled out my pen.

With a real blizzard blowing, Margi decided not to go up to London, and we spent most of the afternoon in the basement building a new storage shelf. There is all sorts of stuff down there that I am more or less permitted to chew, and I kept finding things in the boxes that they were unpacking. They sure did bring a lot of junk from Kingston two years ago. I helped TBC by picking up his hammer every time he put it down until he almost dropped a 2 by 4 on my head. Dogs don't get any thanks around here.

Tuesday, March 9

Remember that rumbling roaring sound that spooked me as a puppy when I first came down here? Well, it's back. I heard it when I woke up this morning, and looking out the bedroom window there were huge chunks of ice crashing against the shore. I spent about ten minutes barking at them. I think maybe my voice is changing, because I often get out a pretty deep woof, and then the next minute the same bark comes out as a sort of a squeak. TBC says, unkindly, that I sound like a cross between a parakeet and a demented bullfrog. Anyway, after ten minutes of barking I got distracted with my usual game of trying to grab TBCs socks before he puts them on, and then he gave me the choice of coming down for breakfast or staying on the bed barking, so that was no contest. After breakfast I went out in my chicken coop and did some more barking at the icebergs. TBC says there is a proverb about King Canute and the tide which he is sure is relevant but he can't quite remember it. I am afraid his religious knowledge is pretty shaky.

Thursday, March 11

Am I ever a pooped puppy tonight! It was a bright sunny day with just enough snow left to ski on, so TBC and Margi decided to go out for a ski along the main beach. They took me along on the 25 foot clothes line which I had used in Stowe, and I got to run back and forth behind them and in front of them. We got tangled up a few times, but it worked pretty well. The snow was quite soft, so that it was tough going, and I had to fight all the way. We skied about 2.5 Km. in all .Didn't meet any horses like we did in Stowe, but did meet a white poodle.

In other news, I now have 8 canine teeth. It makes me look like a mutant monster when I open my mouth. Beware Hamish Magruder, the fiend from the fells.

Saturday, March 13

Sometimes when you are a little puppy you make the right decisions, and sometimes you make the wrong decisions. And when you made the wrong decisions you should be dog enough to stand up and admit it, as my father, Maxwell Smarty always used to say. Actually, I never knew dad, but from his pictures he looks like the sort of fine upstanding dog who would say that sort of thing.

As you know, Nancy, TBC always cooks a gourmet dinner Friday night, and when I was a little puppy this used to unsettle me. I was used to seeing Margi in the kitchen, and having TBC in there banging around made me do silly things like pee on the kitchen floor. What I didn't fully appreciate back then was that TBC is an incredibly sloppy cook. An alert cairn terrier on patrol with lightening fast reflexes can pick up some pretty amazing crumbs on Friday nights. Well, last night TBC was making his acclaimed veal rouladen, stuffed with anchovies and bacon and hard boiled eggs, and he decided that cairn terriers should get to taste all this stuff. Wow! Wholly flipping crumba! Natural Choice puppy kibble is never going to taste the same again! And you can bet that this cairn terrier is going to stick pretty close to the kitchen on Friday nights.

Do you know why seagulls fly over the sea Nancy? Because if they flew over the bay they would be bagels. HaHaHa. That is cairn terrier humour.

Wednesday, March 17

Happy St. Patrick's Day, to prove that I am an ecumenical c.t.

Good digging weather today. I have been working on 3 large holes in my chicken coop. You should see the dirt fly when I get down to work. Margi says she can't understand why I come in with relatively clean paws, but with dirt all over my back. I don't try to teach her her business, so she can leave the digging technique to me.

Possible uses for the 3 holes which I have started:

1.Heffelump traps.

2. Foxholes which I can hide in and then spring out of and scare the bejeezus out of Jim's cat.

3. The entrance to an 8 foot escape tunnel.

I tried peeing while standing on 3 legs today, but it didn't work very well. I sort of fell over on a pile of snow, and then pretended that's what I had wanted to do all along. Maybe we shouldn't rush these skills. I am sure it is all a matter of balance. I now have 7 canine teeth (one fell out) which leaves me unbalanced on one side.

Ten days to the start of adult obedience classes. I think I am doing pretty well, but don't really know what stage my classmates will be at. I suppose some of them will be just finishing puppy classes, and some of them will be failed dogs from previous classes (according to Gracie). I am also not sure that TBC really knows what he is doing. Why should I come when I am already there but he is looking in the other direction?

The snow is melting fast, but there is talk in the air of another ski trip. I will keep you posted.

Monday, March 22

It is spring, and we are just back from another good ski weekend. We left Saturday morning and drove up to Collingwood. It was a beautiful sunny day and I slept in the sun on Margi's lap most of the way. When we arrived at the cross country ski place, the snow was pretty mushy, but TBC and Margi said there was good coverage on the trails. I had to stay and guard the car in the parking lot, but that was O.K. There was a big collie doing the same thing in a car nearby. Then we drove on to Owen Sound where we were staying at the Best Western Motel. We stopped at the Inglis Falls conservation area first, where TBC and Margi thought there might be enough snow to take me for a ski, but there wasn't, so we went for a walk instead. The falls were pretty impressive. I didn't get too near the edge. Even with my climbing ability, I wouldn't want to risk being swept away. The motel was really nice. I spent a good hour or two checking out the room, and found a peanut under the bed. Incidentally, I have now lost two of my baby canines (the top ones) so I am now only half a mutant monster. Then TBC and Margi got dressed up to go out to dinner in the motel dining room, and put me in my sleeping crate in the bathroom and turned out the lights. Well, I wasn't sleepy, so I started to yelp. I hope I haven't blown it. It was only the occasional yelp. TBC and Margi paced up and down in the corridor outside the room for about ten minutes. I think they thought I thought they had left. TBC said that if anyone had looked out their door he was going to say that there was a faulty smoke detector. Eventually I did doze off. The next morning in the car they spent about an hour discussing how to prevent my yelping. Come on folks, get a life. I am perfectly housebroken, and I know how to behave in motel rooms and I always sleep all night and it wasn't my fault that I didn't happen to be sleepy when you two wanted to spend an hour or two filling your faces. I never get to eat for two hours, I might point out. Anyway, after supper we all lay on the bed and watched TV and that was good.

The next morning we went for a nice walk along the shore of the bay and saw about twenty fisherman in orange outfits standing on the ice looking like orange sea lions. Then back in the car and down to the Farmer's market in Fergus. Another short walk and a chance to meet a bunch of friendly people and TBC bought me a new nylabone with a spicules on it to chew on. I lost another couple of premolars chewing on it in the car while they visited a wood show in Kitchener. Got home just as it was starting to snow.

At chow time, one of my endearing little traits is to yelp excitedly while Margi is dishing out my kibble. Tonight, I gave one yelp and TBC and Margi both chorused NO in loud scary voices. I didn't know what to do. I gave another yelp and the same thing happened. I was really taken aback. I mean... well..I just.. I didn't think...Gee, I'm just a little five month old puppy after all. I was so upset that after supper I was a little bit sick at my stomach but I tried to do it on the hardwood floor where it wouldn't make too much of a mess. Angry animal rights activists can send email to ccole(x)@execulink.com.

Tuesday, March 23

A spooky thing happened this afternoon. We were all down in the basement. TBC and Margi were busy putting up drywall in what is going to be Margi's new studio, while I was nosing around in one of the dark corners. I have told you about all the dark corners. To call this place the midden heap of two misspent lives would be temptingly euphonius, but probably overly judgmental. Anyway, I was nosing around at the bottom of a pile of boxes, when suddenly I smelled another dog. I thought he might be trapped behind the boxes and started digging frantically and barking. If you are a little puppy, maybe you should stop reading, because the story gets scarier. TBC wandered out and said to Margi, "I dunno what he's after" and went back to work. I continued digging and eventually got at a tin can with a tight lid on it like they sometimes put cigars in. Apparently one of TBCs disgusting habits from the past, but we won't go into that. Margi came over, and said, "Oh, it's just an old cigar can. There's something inside it that rattles that has him excited". Well, I knew it was another dog, and continued barking and trying to get the lid off. Margi eventually took the lid off to see what was inside, and - this is the scary part - ALL THAT WAS LEFT OF THE DOG WAS HIS COLLAR! Margi said, "Oh look, it's Gunther's old collar", and TBC said, "There, Hamish, you see what will happen to you if you don't behave yourself". Margi replied, "Oh Craig! What a thing to say".

He was just kidding. Wasn't he? My obedience classes start in 4 days.

Wednesday, March 25

Wow, Nancy! I can't believe it! Can I tell everybody?

Nancy won two tickets to anywhere Air Canada flies in North America or Hawaii or the Caribbean in a contest at Queens. I knew she was a great traveler when she found us at Stowe that time.

So where do you want to go Nancy? If Rob is busy you can take me. We could go to Alaska and ski on the glaciers, or go to Florida and hunt alligators or go to Colorado and I could learn to ride horses. The possibilities blow my mind.

Thursday, March 26

Sometimes things prey on a dog's thoughts. I didn't want to talk about this yesterday with the good news about Nancy winning the contest and all, but that can with the dog in it in the basement has really been bothering me. What if there were a whole shelf of cans? Or a cardboard carton on one of the shelves with cigar tins just dumped in it? I mean, you never know, do you? It's like a guy asks a girl to go out on a date with him, and she seems pretty nice, and they go out a few times, and then she turns out to be a serial rapist or something. TBC and Margi seem nice, most of the time, but you never know. So today I spent most of the afternoon checking out every shelf in the basement, and I'm almost certain that there was only the one tin with a dog in it.

I've heard about people's hair turning white overnight from shock, but I didn't know a dog's ears could turn black. I swear, in the last 3 days, my ears have started turning black. I have to put all this behind me. I'm sure it was all just TBC getting even with me for the remark about the basement being a midden heap.

In other news, all my puppy teeth have now fallen out (I think) so I no longer look like a fanged fiend. And, hey, I think I managed to mark the tree at the entrance to our driveway. We were out for our usual evening walk, and met the Spaniel that we don't like. TBC decided this was a good opportunity for me to "heel with distractions", and I did pretty well, so when we got home I did the three legged maneuver as close to the tree as I could, except a low branch sort of poked me in the face and that threw me off. But I bet it took Elvis more than a week to learn how to do a Quad.

This is probably a good place to end a chapter in the story of my life, since I start adult obedience classes on Saturday. I think I will call the chapter "Growing Up". TBC will send it to the archives next week.