Pooka has me trained

Quick upload of snapshots from our advanced obedience class. Don't think she was the only one who learned how to behave!

Two of a kind

Our fabulous obedience class instructor K. just sent some photos along of Pooka and Tuxedo, the improbably similar black-and-white ridgeback mix we met at Sound Animals. (Pooka's the smaller one.)

Every day's a lesson

Pooka and I had an eventful, educational weekend.

Saturday we went for our regular long walk through Woodland Park. It was early, there were no other people around, and I know many folks let the pups run off leash in the fields, so I decided to experiment. Unclipped the leash and watched Miss P. take off at a sprint, running faster and with more determination than I've ever seen her do at the dog park. Straight for the squirrel-laden trees, then bounding around wildly among them. Completely ignored the "come" command for what seemed like minutes. Leashed walk resumed.

Next was an unpleasant adventure in grooming. I've been clipping the tiny ends of her toenails sparingly, but felt sure I wasn't cutting as much as I could have. Wrong! I went too far on one poor little nail and drew blood (and a dirty look from Pooka).

After sopping up most of the stains, I started a load of laundry, and let Pooks hang around in the little laundry porch with me. B. came over to say hi, and inadvertantly let her slip out the door. "Let's see what happens," we decided, since she does love to sniff around for the cats in the back yard. But the driveway gate was open, and as soon as she realized it, I saw a black streak zip by the window.

When I padded out into the driveway in my socks, I saw that black streak darting wildly from house to house, yard to yard, back and forth across the blessedly quiet street. Yelling "Pooka, get your a** over here" didn't work too well, and when I finally nabbed her by the collar, she cowered. "Sorry, mom! Couldn't help myself!"

Of course, the mad Ballard dash opened up the toenail wound, and P. tracked bloody paw prints all over the living room. Poor kid. Doc recommended immersing the paw in corn starch and staying off it for a bit, so we went back to bed and read for a while.

Saturday afternoon and Sunday were much nicer adventures. We visited M. and Cody on Mercer Island and walked down to the lake, where Pooka jumped in and actually SWAM in mad pursuit of ducks. Cody is a very avid swimmer, but P. seems to be more utilitarian about how wet she gets. Cody is not a very avid wrestler/dog chase game player, which confused Pooka to no end. She made extremely exaggerated "come play with me please" gestures, pounced and teased to no avail. Cody does, however, play a mean game of keepaway. Pooka acquiesced and let him be the alpha, a calculated decision, I suspect, just to keep engaged with him.

Sunday we joined O. and Olli, and new friends M. and J. and their dogs Dude (my favorite line of the weekend was, "Dude, seriously????") and Paps on a hike up Little Si. We went early enough that the trails were clear, and so we unleashed the monsters, who bounded with breathtaking agility over and under, around and about in the trees and boulders. I had to stop Pooka from playing a rowdy game of "keepaway" with a stick on the precarious mountaintop area, but she did an incredible job otherwise of playing nicely and listening to me when I called. Can't wait for the next pack outing.

Daylight savings switch means I can now zip out of work, pick up P. and hit Green Lake for a jog and a dog park romp. Cannot wait for summer.