Keisha thinks she's human; I'm sure of it.
Keisha, for those who don't know, is the (almost) two-year-old black lab who shares a home with my significant other and me. And when I say share, I mean share. It's just as much her home as it is ours; and she makes sure we don't forget it.
When she first came into our home, we set up some ground rules to ensure she knew who was boss.
For the first few months, her kennel was her home when we weren't around, or when we were not able to give her our undivided attention. This worked astonishingly well in the house training department, as we only had to clean up after her a half dozen times.
We didn't want to bother with training her to go on the newspaper in the house first; we wanted her to learn to go outside to begin with and that's what she did. Kennel training worked great because she didn't want to make a mess in her "home" where she had to sleep. So, in the middle of the night when she needed out, she whimpered until one of us woke up and took her outside - which was not fun, I must add, as it was the middle of winter.
But the whimpering to go out was nothing compared to the high-pitched whining that resonated from her room for the first week.
High-pitched whining that went on -
All.
Night.
Long.
At that point, if I had not known better, I would have thought she was a colicky newborn baby. I was ready to check myself into the psych ward.
There were moments when she was a puppy and learning the rules of our home when I wondered what we had got ourselves into. She was a handful-and-a-half. A dog is a big commitment; but so is a child.
But as she grew older, her misbehaviours occurred less and less. This is not to say they never occurred, but they occurred on a different level. Now, instead of running to see the little kids on the street because she didn't know any better, she'd sit and stare at them and sneak glances in our direction to see if we were watching her.
If we were, she'd stay put. But if we weren't she be gone like a cat after a mouse to go lick the neighbour kids until we heard their squeals of laughter and told her to come back. She'd never hurt anyone; she just wanted to play.
As frustrated as we were with her when she did this, we could see the entertainment value in the fact she would only go if we weren't watching. Sort of reminds me of a young child.
She began listening better to my significant other before she ever listened good to me. He's a discipliner; I'm a sucker. But over time she became just as good with me and now there really isn't any difference, though I'm still a sucker.
Take the other day for example. Now that she's older and calmed down, we can leave her in the house during the winter when we go to work. Before we were worried she would chew, but she's good now. Good, except for one small thing. The couch.
Here is where me being a sucker comes in. One day she put her head, and then her paw, onto the couch next to me as I was working. She looked up at me with those sad puppy-dog eyes and I just couldn't resist.
Up she came, onto the couch. She cuddled right into my side and slept until I was finished writing.
When I decided to move off the couch and shower, she looked up at me with this pleading look - "Please can I say on the couch? Please? I'll be good" - and I just couldn't say no.
Permission granted to sit on the couch when we were on the couch translated into permission granted to sit on the couch whenever she wanted - even when we weren't home.
So it seems she has us figured out. She knows how to get what she wants, but she also knows when it's pointless to try. She knows when we're really upset with her - she sulks with her tail between her legs - and she knows when we're just a little upset and she can weasel her way into receiving attention.
In some ways, she's like a child; so maybe she's not that far off when she walks around thinking she is human.
