The Forgotten Story

The Woman, in all her busy-ness, forgot to rely the following story. I think that it is important that this story be told because:

1.) It shows how well trained I am.

2). It shows how helpful The Woman is.

and

3). It proves that above all, I am Shiba.

Last weekend, we were walking our morning constitutional when we came across a Mother walking her little Yappy dog while pushing a baby stroller. While Baby was tightly strapped into the contraption holding it hostage, Yappy was, of course, on a flexi-lead and running around enjoying himself.

Then He saw me.

Then He became furious, barking madly, running all around the stroller, barking, and carrying on, despite His Person's pleas to calm down. The Baby starts to cry, and the chaos gets worse.

Suddenly, the Baby stroller tips over and The Woman turns to address the commotion.

I am put into a Sit/Stay and The Woman runs over to help The Mother untangle her dog from the stroller, and get the stroller back upright. Yappy never ceases to stop barking at me, tossing challenges left and right, but I merely sigh and shake my head at the ridiciousness of such a silly barking monstrocity.

The Woman stays to make sure that Mother, Baby and Yappy are all okay. Mother is saying that she is going to head home because the situation was not working; the Woman offers her sympathy (without her normal lecture of why she hates flexi-leads) and turns toward me as so we can resume our walk.

It is, at this moment, that I realize something very important.

There is no one holding the other end of the leash.

The Woman is in front of me, walking toward me, politely calling my name, telling me what a good boy I have been.

I accept the challenge.

Immediately moving into a play stance, I then turn tail and run as fast as I can down the roads. The Woman starts to chase me and then gives up. I am faster than the wind, the blood of the cheetah could not have given me more inspiration to run with the glory of all that is free. Tongue hanging out and leash trailing behind me, I run by all the neighbors working in their yard, who politely point out to The Woman as she walks by, which direction I was headed.

Smartly, She figured I was headed to one of two places: Home or The Nature Center (my personal park).

Home was closer.

When She got to our front door, I was standing there calmly, looking at the door like I always do, waiting for it to open so that I might enter. I have always despised the fact that our Front Door does not open and close at my Will.

So she is standing on the steps looking at me. I turn and look at her, wondering if she was going to open the door, and as she continues to look at me, I ask the simpy question:

What did you expect? Actual Obedience?



I Am Shiba. I Do What Motivates Me At That Moment.