When dogs lose their minds

Not that they have particularly huge minds to lose! (Sorry, canine-lovers).

I've been dog-sitting Tucker, David's dog. Now, Tucker is a sweetheart of a dog. I really, really like him, as dogs go.

But he's a dog. And a young dog. And a young dog that was not well-taken care of for the first 10 months of his life -- not starved, or anything, but chained to a stake, and certainly not taught much about manners or impulse control.

So it's been an interesting week.

Now, the good news is having a dog has forced me to get my lazy self out of bed in the morning and go for walks. Also at night before going to bed. But, we're in the midst of a serious cold snap (15 degrees this morning when I woke up), and for some reason Tucker's excitement and energy levels do some serious spiking as the temperature drops. Not sure why; he's a mutt, true, but shows no signs of having any Husky, Malamute, or any other cold-region dog in him. Plus, he's VERY short-haired, so you'd think he'd be cold. But whatever.

So, anyway, I get up at 5:stinking:30 this morning, throw on my walking clothes, go downstairs, and that's when the trouble starts.

First, I can't find my ear-band (WONDERFUL fleece thing I bought years ago, beccause I hate both hats and cold ears). Not a big deal usually, but at 15 degrees, yeah, gets more important. I look, and look, and look, with Tucker bouncing around me doing the hurry-up-I-gotta-PEE dance. Finally, I gave up and found one of Grace's hats in the hall clost that I jammed on my head.

Then, as I'm trying to shut the door behind me, Tucker TAKES OFF, trying to get across the street to see a friend. Now, he does this frequently, though he's usually bolting for the grass to do his business. But, yes, I kinda expect it, and I keep his leash shorter as I'm leaving the house for just that reason. But he was excited this morning (he loves other doggies), and dang-near pulled me down the steps! (Dang near decapitated himself, as well, for the record).

So, I manage to get my door shut, walk Tucker into the grass, then he sits and looks at me. Um, peeing? Remember that???? He tries to go see his buddy. Nope, Mean Old Meg won't let him (I am NOT in the mood for canine shenanigans). So he comes back and looks at me. I look right back. FINALLY the light bulb goes off (or the urge kicks in), and he pees.

So, off we go -- he's gotten much better about pulling on his leash, but apparently the cold froze all his brain synapses today, and he was back to all his old bad habits: Pulling on the leash, running around my legs, etc. Plus, he'd peed but he wouldn't, uh, do anything else. And it was COLD. I did NOT want to be out in the cold, getting dragged along by a dog who's supposed to be doing what I want, in 15 degrees of coldness.

But, we persevered. Eventually Tuck got over himself, stopped pulling on me, did the rest of his business, and we made it back home.

Where he developed a sudden, irrational fear of hardwood floors.

Which wouldn't be so bad, except since my entry way and kitchen both have hardwoods, it makes it kind of hard to get him in the house, get him out of the house, or feed him.

It was actually kinda funny: he'd walk right up to the edge of the hardwoods, then stop and wimper. I'd call him, and he'd wag his tail, and get all excited....but not step onto the hardwoods.

Finally I dragged him into the kitchen so that Dusty wouldn't eat his breakfast. Once on, he was fine, but he got off the floor as quickly as possible, and didn't want to get back on it. Oh, and yeah, that also makes it hard for him to follow me upstairs, since he has to cross the dreaded hardwoods to get to the stairs!

So, yeah, no idea what's going through his little doggie brain -- he's never had a problem with them before at my house, and in fact HIS house has hardwoods in the entire downstairs.

Dunno. But I do know this: David is back in town, and I'm taking a break from Tucker-walking!!!!