Haven't had a post about Mpira for a while, which he reminded me about just now. I've been on the computer all day with one thing or another, and he doesn't think much of it. Hence the heavy sighs and mournful expression.
Not that he can complain. He's had his walk. It's lucky he can't read, because he knows that walk is translated as:
"I'll just take the dog out"; "I'll take the dog for a w a l k"(spelt phonetically); "time to take the dog for a WALK" (spelt in letter names, hence the capitals); and even the sentence "I'm wondering about…" elicits the walk response.
How does he know? He comes and watches when I put my trainers on; but never my boots or shoes. He follows me if I go upstairs (which is where the socks are kept, and everyone knows you can't wear trainers without socks). He sits and looks at me, then looks pointedly at the door but refuses to go outside.
The dog tricks are coming along a treat as well. I got him to do them today for the prospective pleasure of having a cardboard tube to tear to pieces. It's not all about food.
No comments:
Post a Comment