Daisy

I get such a kick out of Daisy, my mother's Golden Retriever, when I visit. She has her little peculiarities, like all of us. Only hers are more so. Peculiar, that is.

She likes to have a piece of ice when you have the freezer open. But it is her custom, while eating anything, to take a mouthful and then head right back out to where the 'action' is in the house (wouldn't want to miss anything.) So she drops pieces along the way. But she knows what you mean when you tell her to go back and pick it up. She's good at that.

She's also good at decorating the house... with small bits of paper that she's chewed up. Very thorough, actually.

My mother used to have a dog who would pee on command. "Go be good girl" would send her right out to the yard to squat, every time. That's a very useful training when it's chilly out and you want to go to bed. Daisy doesn't get that - probably because she doesn't want to. She enjoys having company outside while she sniffs around. No sense rushing that, I guess. But she has another skill that is worth noting. If you point at something she will 'track' to where you are pointing to look at it. (My cats, on the other hand, invariably look at the end of your finger.)

Daisy's friend Kita, my sister's dog, will occasionally bark outside and Daisy will hear her and bark in answer. What is that about? "I'm here!" "I'm here too!" "Are you there?" "Yes, I'm here!" "Where are you?" "I'm here!" Or something.

Dogs. Endlessly hilarious.