Protocols…

Wednesday, June 1

Hey, hey, everyone– Luigi here.  Boy, I didn’t know keeping up with a blog would require this much work– you know, after sleeping,  eating, walking, poohing, walking, sniffing, napping, eating, walking, etc. you get my drift.  Just a heck of a lot of responsibility.  All that and trying to make this transition easy for my Grandma.  She’s older– I told you that, tho.                                                    Oh, here’s a picture we found of her and I a few  years back when she was caring for me–and we went walking on the pier                                                                                                                                                     Oh, the life of a sailor–with the breeze fluffing your ears.

So, what have you all been doing lately?  Me, oh, I’ve been concentrating on learning all the protocols that it takes to live with my Grandma– it isn’t as easy as you ‘d think.  I mean, I had over 10 years with my Mom and Dad and fluffy-haired girl.  But, this Grandma is something all together different.   First off– we now live in an apartment.  That means– no yard.  Well, there’s a big yard–but no little patio–so every time I  want to go out, or need to go out,  Grandma has to personally take me outside.   So, I ring my bells hanging on the patio door,  ching-ching-ching.

Now, I’ve got Grandma trained to come running–for sure.  But, then she has to put my harness on me, clip the leash to the harness, put on her shoes, her sweater, find her cane, get a sip of water, get a plastic bag, get a tissue or two, and finally–out we go.  So, the going out protocol is– about 5 minutes before you think you have to go out— you better ring the bells.  LOL

Once we are outside, there apparently is a protocol for walking and ‘marking’.   Now, I have to say, Grandma is the sweetest person in the world to take a walk with.  She understands that it is important for me to feel in charge of something once in a while, so the walk is my thing.  She is just along to carry the leash–and the plastic bag.  Well, and to keep track of all the friends I meet and those crazy old people who want to feed me all sorts of treats–which I love–but Grandma isn’t too sure of.

So, back to the walking and marking.  You know, don’t you, that this is a skill passed down to me from from my grandfather’s grandfather.  I have an exquisite Bichon pedigree– right out of Boston.  I’m sure there is a special marker on my DNA for exceptional territorial marking.  Now, you may think this is just plain old peeing on every thing that looks like a post–but it isn’t.  It takes a cunning sense to know just how much marking to do at the prescribed distances to ensure that you can still mark all the way around the complex and back to your own house.

Well, as I say, unashamedly, I am the best!  But, here’s the wrinkle.  I’m just sniffing and lifting along, and then, Grandma says– “Luigi–not there– those people sitting in their living room do NOT need to see you peeing on their tree!”  What! What’s she talking about– what people?  And, I try to stretch the leash just a bit more to reach that darn tree–but, Grandma has the tension set and ‘thwang’– that’s all the further I can go.  So, I am learning that there are several places, that although they have great trees or posts,  N’uh-uh… rule them out.  And, we just have to move on.   OMG.  How will they know I passed by?

Then, there’s the sleeping under the desk protocol.  (See, here’s a picture of me hanging out under the darn desk)

looking handsome in the dim light

Well, Grandma spends a lot of time  writing.   When I want to make sure she isn’t getting lonesome, I  sometimes  come in and go up under the desk.  The protocol seems to be OK for you to curl up by her toes, but you have to stay off the computer wires!!  Emphatically–NOT on the wires.  Gees, I don’t lick them, or chew on them–I just scratch them around a bit to make a comfy nest.   But, she keeps giving me the same lecture about the electricity in the wires isn’t good for my body….  So, I eventually give in and move out to my Bark-a-lounger… LOL  yep, my very own padded, leather bed with side-walls.  Hey, my Mom and Dad spoiled me rotten–what can I say.

So, that’s part of a day in the life of a luxury dog– having to keep all those rules straight– but, you’ll see, in time, I’ll get Grams to relax.  Now, if I could just convince her to fost-adopt that rat-cat out for a while–  oh, well,  Better run.

Woof-Woof, Luigi

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