Most of the time when I go downstairs to plod along on the treadmill, both dogs follow me. They tend to follow me everywhere (if I let them), of course. I can't figure out what they find so fascinating about me walking in place, but it's cool down there and they like to lounge about while I exercise.
But now, when I announce that "I'm going downstairs to walk..." they both RUN to the basement door and then thunder downstairs to stand expectantly by the storage room door, tails wagging. Why? Because I -- ONCE -- went into the storage room where the dog biscuits are stored to give them a cookie before I started on the treadmill.
Once is apparently enough to convince them this is what 'going to walk' means. It means: run downstairs and we'll get a biscuit! Yeah!.
So, unlike every other dog on the planet, the word 'walk' has nothing to do with outside or a leash or sniffing every shrub for four blocks...it means 'go in the basement'
That's somehow every embarrassing.
Thursday, September 02, 2010
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