The dog and I have a routine that she dearly loves: whenever I get a chance to lounge on the couch for awhile in the evening, I will put little bits of dog treat in a treat ball, and the dog will roll it vigorously around the floor to get all the treats out. Then she'll bring it back to me and hand it to me, and I'll refill it, and she'll re-roll it, and that'll repeat four or five times until I think she's had enough treats. Then I'll take the ball away from her and hand her one last treat, indicating that the game is over. Usually she understands this and settles down.
But last night, I was doing some paperwork on the couch, so I was sitting there for much longer than normal, and the dog grew impatient to play the game again. When she wants me to start the game, she "berfs" at me -- this very tiny imitation of a bark that she uses to get my attention. "Berfing" was initially a really good way for her to comment on things without barking, so I've always encouraged it, but it has become sort of obsessive in the last year -- sometimes she'll sit in the family room and just berf to herself, which is pretty distracting. She can really keep it up far in excess of my patience, and last night she "berfed" at me for about 50 minutes straight -- about every ten minutes I'd give her a long speech about how she had already played treat ball, and it wasn't good to snack all evening, and it wasn't good to get so in the habit of "berfing" that you don't even notice you're doing it, and for those speeches, she would politely shut up and listen, but then a few moments later, she'd get back to it.
Finally, she figured out it wasn't working (thank GOD). Then, since she didn't have access to the treat ball itself, she decided to try bringing me other things. She brought me her tennis ball. She brought me her marrow bone. She kept repeating this -- I'd take the bone from her and admire it and give it back to her, and she would consider it to see whether I had perhaps put some peanut butter on it, and then she'd take it for a lap around the room (to refresh its powers, I presume) and offer it to me again. Finally, I started ignoring the offerings, and she went a few rounds of just placing it hopefully on the floor at my feet, waiting a moment, then picking it up and "refreshing" it with a lap around the room and placing it at my feet again.
I was working busily away when I saw, out of the corner of my eye, that she was carefully placing something new at my feet. It wasn't her ball or her bone; it was bright blue. I stopped what I was doing to look down, and there at my feet sat my five pound exercise barbell. It has a tough sort of "nerf" coating that lets her get a decent grip on it, I guess, and I suppose she thought this yeoman's effort would serve as a heroic last ditch attempt. When I started laughing, I could tell she thought she had hit paydirt, and I know it was very hard for me not to give her treats for her inventiveness. I resisted, but I did congratulate her heartily, and then I put the barbells away so I don't wind up with a toothless dog!
But last night, I was doing some paperwork on the couch, so I was sitting there for much longer than normal, and the dog grew impatient to play the game again. When she wants me to start the game, she "berfs" at me -- this very tiny imitation of a bark that she uses to get my attention. "Berfing" was initially a really good way for her to comment on things without barking, so I've always encouraged it, but it has become sort of obsessive in the last year -- sometimes she'll sit in the family room and just berf to herself, which is pretty distracting. She can really keep it up far in excess of my patience, and last night she "berfed" at me for about 50 minutes straight -- about every ten minutes I'd give her a long speech about how she had already played treat ball, and it wasn't good to snack all evening, and it wasn't good to get so in the habit of "berfing" that you don't even notice you're doing it, and for those speeches, she would politely shut up and listen, but then a few moments later, she'd get back to it.
Finally, she figured out it wasn't working (thank GOD). Then, since she didn't have access to the treat ball itself, she decided to try bringing me other things. She brought me her tennis ball. She brought me her marrow bone. She kept repeating this -- I'd take the bone from her and admire it and give it back to her, and she would consider it to see whether I had perhaps put some peanut butter on it, and then she'd take it for a lap around the room (to refresh its powers, I presume) and offer it to me again. Finally, I started ignoring the offerings, and she went a few rounds of just placing it hopefully on the floor at my feet, waiting a moment, then picking it up and "refreshing" it with a lap around the room and placing it at my feet again.
I was working busily away when I saw, out of the corner of my eye, that she was carefully placing something new at my feet. It wasn't her ball or her bone; it was bright blue. I stopped what I was doing to look down, and there at my feet sat my five pound exercise barbell. It has a tough sort of "nerf" coating that lets her get a decent grip on it, I guess, and I suppose she thought this yeoman's effort would serve as a heroic last ditch attempt. When I started laughing, I could tell she thought she had hit paydirt, and I know it was very hard for me not to give her treats for her inventiveness. I resisted, but I did congratulate her heartily, and then I put the barbells away so I don't wind up with a toothless dog!
