With the warming temperatures, I’ve got a boxer who just can’t sit still.
Some people believe the groundhog when he says Spring is here — and some let the flowers, the chirping of birds or extended warm weather clue them in. In our house it’s the boxer’s restlessness that tells us winter is over.
She was particularly restless over the weekend — spending much of it at the back patio door whimpering to be let out or the front door growling at people walking by on the sidewalks.
She would not come back in when I called her in, spent a great deal of time running around in the mud and barking at the neighbors for no reason at all.
Not that I want a bored Val back inside — she entertains herself by getting the old dog Chester and the cranky Shih Tzu all stirred up. When she isn’t chasing them around or trying to get them to play with her, she’s trying to get into the trash, hiding Isaac’s socks or jumping up and down on one of the beds.
Even the teenager isn’t safe — he gets a wiggly boxer on his lap or his face licked if he doesn’t play with her.
I try to entertain her by chasing her around the house and throwing balls for her to chase, but it’s never enough.
She’s three-years-old now — we no longer have the excuse that she’s this way because she’s a puppy. I know people think she’s undisciplined because I let her get away with everything. My son seems to think that, and he’s not wrong.
But I tell you, I do scold her when I catch her getting into trouble. She responds by jumping onto the couch, resting her nose on my thigh like she’s listening intently and wagging her tail. That’s all it takes for me to forget what I was scolding her about.
Yes, yes, I know I’m a sucker.