Being trained by a puppy

I've told my husband I wanted a dog for...years. When we lived in Maryland, his excuse was that I wouldn't want to walk the dog in the snow. True enough. But 3 years ago we moved back to Florida, and his excuse was...we travel too much. Well, it turns out that "we" is really "he." All of which wouldn't have mattered except that I was in Taylor County School District the other day and there was this puppy. Mabel. Mabel is a black and tan miniature dashund. I grew up with dashund neighbors. My aunt Patti had a dashund (Heidi, natch). And there she was, 3.5 months old, all head. Where other puppies tend to be all feet, for some reason dashunds are all nose!! She charmed me. I'm easy, but she is definitely charming!

So now she lives with us...that's me, hubby, and 3 cats. One of the cats, Pino (our baby) thinks Mabel is WAY FUN. I just caught them sorting through the trash together - with impunity. She chases him, he chases her, it's all fun. When I lie on the bed to watch TV, Mabel curls up on my stomach and falls asleep, or snuggles down under the covers and curls up next to me and sleeps. She makes little snuffling noises when she's asleep, or when she's very happy. It is adorable.

And so we are in puppy training classes so *I* can learn how to raise a puppy. I think I last had a dog when I was...13? That would be Butch, the one who peed on all my friends during my sleepover. Try living that down!!

Mabel is teaching me patience - more patience? I am reading books on how dogs think, and it makes me re-think my voice, my posture, my body language. The only thing it DOESN'T make me re-think is glass. Thank goodness, Mabel loves the studio. And it's okay if she has an accident in there - I do, too. And face it: hers are easier to clean up.