[My writing is crude because I wrote this in a bit of a jiff-ay...You've been warned]
It's been an interesting 3-4 weeks that I've been absent. Classically, I might start off apologizing for it, but I've never been classeh and that's classeh ladeh material. I will say, though, 3 weeks of absence is a lot of information to cover. So I'll do my best to make it short, sweet and, at the least, entertaining. (You'll know if I'm failing because I'll discretely divert your attention spans with a cute Finn photo "aaaw, puppy <3")
After 3 weeks of "treat-induced-training", it's safe to say that: Finn has been effectively brainwashed. Not brainwashed in the way that entices him to listen to every singular command that I or anybody else offers either. More like, my dad's hand dips down beside his chair and up goes Finn's ears in classic seesaw action. And when my dad ends up pulling up the remote, or something in equal or lesser value to a dog with a crack-craving for food, Finn's ears go down, then back up as he remains patiently hopeful that my dad might be playing an innocent, but nonetheless cruel prank on him. In the end it turns out to only be cruel. Nothing else.
Still, because of all the help from dog-treats, Finn has been able to associate my father with good things rather than bad. So now instead of being the big scary monster hoarding treats, he's the big scary guy who is kind enough to give out treats. I, personally, think this new found social status is a step up, in any case.
Also, while I'm not well aware of how far Finn's training went with Emily (she did a lot for the lil guy, I'm just not aware of all the specifics), I've been able to train him (mildly at best) to "sit" and "stay". Plus the "shake" concept before he hops out of the tub is starting to take hold in his tightly wound brain lobes. Not all is without it's imperfections though. He shakes in the bath tub well enough, but still does a little dance all over the bathroom walls when I give him the okay to come out. And when I go to my (and his) room, he tries desperately to shove his head pass my side so that he may run to the crate for cover. But I'm too bad assery for that. That's right. I said bad assery.....
CUTE DOGGY PICSHA INTERVENTION!!
(Aaaw, puppy! <3)
It takes a little prodding with "no" and "stay" for him to understand that at that time he isn't allowed to hide in the crate or my room. The only reason he listens is for fear of facing his mother's wrath (a stern tone basically...so fierce). Eventually though he does listen. And the time it takes for him to grasp all these commands and concepts are getting shorter and shorter.
Finn also enjoys the routine when I wake up. Typically when I'm off work, I'll take him out of the crate and encourage him on to my bed, serving only in creating a ticking time bomb of pure pent up energy. I feel bad because there's only so much energy I can knock out of him outside as our limits remain tethered to a harness and leash. So rather than try to motivate him enough to where his small attention span has no other option except to focus on me, I try to play with him on my bed. He's comfortable there, he's open and I just know it's something I will likely come to regret later on down the road, so why not?! I can always hate myself later, wondering why the heck I ever decided to do something so thoughtless....and then I can look at this blog...read my reasoning's...and promptly agree with myself like I'm some wizardy genius who just figured out that the "Harry Potter" spell is actually called "Expecto Patronum" and act like I haven't been calling it "Jiggly Patronus" this entire time.
Other than that he's a vivacious ball of energy when it's just him and me or him, me and my mom. He whines a lot because of the inability to use up all that energy (or when I pay attention, god forbid, to Artemis), but the leash is still in place with just the right amount of concern. While my steps and noises don't scare him anymore outside, there are still many things that do.
We've had rabbits run from their cubby holes because of Finn's wondering nose and the sharp darting of the animal doesn't faze him one bit. But the minute a car passes by, he stops and stares no matter what he's in the middle of (and I do mean, no matter what). Passing vehicles while he's taking care of business aren't really my concern though. He's developed enough of an attachment to me to where I don't believe he would stray far even if he happened to get spooked. Unless it's people that spook him. It doesn't matter how near or far those people may be, Finn's terrified the minute he hears voices. Well, adult voices, I should say. I hear children squealing up the road and expect Finn to jump: nothing. I hear soft voices of people talking across the road: instant terror.
Judging his training thus far on a scale, the heftier side would be his people skills or lack there of. This is also the side I've had the hardest time working on. I'm not opposed to exposing him to people, but I don't have a big field to work with. I can pretty much count the people I know or associate closely with on one hand (and even then, it's rare I see these people, if at all). Then there's co-workers. I love showing Finn to my co-workers, but it's not the controlled or comfortable environment I'd like him to be in. As expected, he freaks out and I'm not sure if that's making much progress or creating an even wider gap between him and strangers. I guess only time will tell whether I'm helping or scarring the dear child further.
I thought about dragging his cute little buns to Petco, now that I've been able to follow-up on his flea treatments. And then I start thinking to myself about other responsibilities with Finn, like how I still need to set up that vet appointment...
** *** **
(Aaaw, puppy! <3)
In the long run, it could be a lot worse. I have a lot of things to be thankful for in this little fuzzard alone. Artemis is my soul-cat, nothing and no one can replace that, but Finn's starting to make his own special place amongst this family and (at the expense of sounding cheesy enough to cover a human-sized cracker) my heart.
He's a genuine bugger with a heart of gold that takes some seriously sweet photo's when he's carefree enough to play with me. This is the Finn I want everyone see:
I can dream...for him, since most of his dreams cause sleep-induced running and mewling sounds.
There's so many more incidences I can remember thinking throughout the 3 weeks "I need to put this little occurrence in my blog" and then I snort at myself and think "dork". After that: I forget. So while I'm sure there was more to relay that I will beat myself upside the head for not posting, I'll try to update quicker this next time around. Because, let's face it, my memory is as fuzzy (if not fuzzier) than an old grammaw's. And when the holiday's come around: it all becomes one giant mass of unidentifiable blurry blob-ness.
As a last note, I've also found that Finn really enjoys when I squish his face around or squeeze it. He will wait for me to hold out my hand and then plop his chin in my palm, awaiting the massaging squish of his droopy lips and twitchy eyebrows. So I leave you with what Katie has enlightened me is the: Meat Face.
Respect It.
