Sunday, January 15, 2006

Churchbells ringing

This morning came too early. The churchbells ring at 8 a.m., but it was still dark out. I got up and put on some jeans and a warm fuzzy (what we call the big, huge, polar sweaters) and staggered downstairs to let the dogs out and feed them. The sun was just rising as I opened the door and the village square was bathed in the palest apricot light. The air was still vibrating from the churchbells, and the doves who nest in the belfry were still flapping around the old chestnut tree. (I'm sitting here wondering what it's like to be a dove, and wondering how many die of heart attacks when the bells start ringing in the morning...) There is also a small falcon who lives in the belfry, and two or three barn owl families. The owls never budge when the bells ring, but once a year there are fireworks in the village square and that always scares the owls out of their nest. When the first fireworks go off, four or five large white shadows come shooting out of the belfry and careen into the air, dodging the sparks and disappearing into the night.

The puppy is whining now. He made a poopy in the hall and according to the dog training book, I have to scold him and put him outside for fifteen minutes. I don't think the puppy minds, but he can hear Rusty in the kitchen finishing the dog food he left in his bowl and that is making him desperate to come inside. I am trying to ignore his heartbroken little whines. One must be consistant when house-training a dog (quoting from the book here) especially dachshunds who are notorious for not getting it right. (Advice from my sister-in-law here, who had three.) Just checked my watch. Fourteen minutes to go. The neighbors (hopefully) cannot hear his high-pitched whining. Which reminds me, the neighbor's daughter has been coming over for English lessons. Her mother called me from the restaurant and said that her daughter has had some bad grades and could help her study. I said of course. The grades are worse than bad, and the poor child has no notion of English. So I'm cheating a bit. We're going over and over the vocabulary for her next test. I told her I wanted to see her an hour every two days, and we just go over the words. If she can't speak English, at least she'll ace her tests. LOL. Which goes to show how little testing is worth. Well, she might get some vocabulary out of this too. (Just checked clock. Ten more minutes of puppy torture.) Rusty just came in looking very smug and lay down on the doggy bed next to me. She likes Auguste but, like any older, jealous sibling, feels no pity for the punished.

It's Sunday, and I have pity for my neighbors who might be sleeping in. I will let in the punished puppy and hope he's learned some sort of lesson...(I'm mean? Rusty is a pig? The door is very solid?)

Have a lovely day!

11 comments:

Cheyenne McCray said...

House training puppies is no easy task! I'm SO glad Sugar is now house trained. Such a relief!

Ann Jacobs said...

I don't envy you the training, either. We just got another kitty yesterday--a 2 year old Russian Blue that's already litter trained (which he should be by that age!)

He's also an exceptionally well-mannered fellow, so I feel lucky!

Sam said...

I bet you're glad Sugar is trained! I'm looking forward to having this one trained, but he's still a baby and doesn't seem to have cottoned on quite yet, lol.
Ann - I'm so glad you got a new cat!!!! What's his name? And A Russian Blue - I've never seen one (off to go look one up on the internet!)

International-Man-Of-Mystery said...

If the bells didn't wake them up, I doubt the puppy did.

Methinks the owls are deaf. The fireworks scare them because of the lights and heat, not the sounds. Just a theory.

Wynn Bexton said...

I love your doggie stories! My friend's bringing her little fur-ball over here tomorrow and I'm going to babysit with her for a few days. Her name is Nicki and she's a tiny pomeranian. I love dogs and haven't been able to have one in the apartment but nobody's going to notice little Nickie. (Except maybe the bird, Cheeky, who might get jealous as he is the cock of the walk around here!)

Sam said...

Deaf owls? Hmmm. I don't know. I thought they had exceptional hearing. Maybe they simply don't mind the deafening bells, lol. Or maybe they are smarter than the doves who panic every morning.

Wynn, babysitting a dog is fun. I have done it a few times. The funniest thing that happened to me was when the dog I was babysitting for crept up the stairs early one morning and crawled ever-so-slowly into my bed and lay down where my husband usually sleeps. I woke up and saw this lump on teh bed, saw the time, thought he'd overslept, pushed him, and the dog woke up and barked, I screamed, and we both fell out of the bed.

Gabriele C. said...

Hi Sam, here's a blog for you. Today she talks about beavers, but usually it's dogs. Lots of dogs. With pics.

Sam said...

Thanks Gabriele!
I hope I'm not boring everone with my doggie stories, lol.

Gabriele C. said...

Not at all, lol. I like dogs.

Daisy Dexter Dobbs said...

We lost our little cocker spaniel, Katy, several years ago before we moved to Oregon. The loss was devastating. I have to tell you, Sam, that your charming, delightful tales of Rusty and Auguste are really urging me to think about getting another puppy--training problems and all. ;-)

Patrice Michelle said...

I feel your pain in the housetraining, Sam! We all love our pets, but I wish you the best of luck getting over that training "hump".