Did you know, we dogs sleep 8-12 hours a day? Sound familiar? Basically, when our human sleeps--we sleep. When our human eats--we eat. And when our human plays--we are always ready to play. Problem is, most humans don't allow for enough play time. And us dogs really want to play. Play--eat--play--eat. That's what we're about.
Now my Mom is a very busy woman. Dad too. But today, for the purpose of play, I'm going to share a little secret with you.
(Tip: This is a dogs-only secret. Quietly distract your humans away from the screen.)
There's only one secret, really. But it's guaranteed to get you more play time and in turn exercises your human. It's a win-win situation for everyone involved. And they'll thank you for it later.
How to start: The first order of business is to grab something your human doesn't want you to have. Only you can find out what that something is, I can't tell you. You'll need to watch your human very closely. They're creatures of habit. They like "stuff". I still can't figure out why, but they collect stuff like we dogs collect fleas. Only they don't want to get rid of their stuff, and we dogs--well, most of us anyway--don't wish to keep our fleas.
As you know, humans store stuff everywhere; in closets, drawers, and under beds. And when their dog house gets full, they rent more space--to store more stuff. And don't even get me started on how big of a dog house is needed for all their stuff. Why they can't just pile everything into one room, make a bed out of it and go to sleep, I have no idea. It's warmer. It's far easier, but--no! They have to spread it out, sleep apart or with one other human. Of course, I rebel against this idea. I insist on sleeping with them, on top of their stuff. But that's another story. Where was I? Oh yeah! When the dog house gets full, or there's no more space to rent--wait for it--they throw their stuff into the trash. Can you believe it? Good stuff, in the trash!
Exhibit A: Me with the stuff Mom threw in the trash! 
(Tip: Don't eat anything in the trash. It will make you sick and you will spend the rest of the night trying not to poop in the house. Don't poop in the house! It's bad. I know--and stupid. More on that later.)
Now, this is where the secret gets fun. I have found a way to turn all this so called trash into a training tool for my human. Basically, I get into the trash. Take out what looks good to me...
(Tip:I warn you,for some reason, humans resist this at first.)
Anyway, I grab the trash. Or anything I know they don't want me to have. Then--I run like HELL! They will chase you! Remember be cute. They like it when we're cute. And don't be afraid if you hear screaming. That's normal. As long as you don't ruin their coveted "stuff", and you're cute, they will not hurt you. But you will get the best play time ever with your human.
Don't expect your first time to be perfect. I've been manipulating my human since 2010. It takes time to find your humans motivator. And remember, always give them a treat or a gift when you're done. My human likes pine cones, rocks, and foreign poop I find in the woods. I know this sounds crazy, but she squeals and makes funny sounds to show how happy she is, so, I just give her what she wants. I don't mind spoiling her. Now, these types of treats may not work for your human. You will have to test out which rewards make your human happy. It's all in day's work, but it's so worth it when you can play until both of you are content and happy. Then, it's time to celebrate--which means,eat! Before you know it, it's eat-play-eat-play every day!
My name is Brinkley. I'm a two year old silver Labrador Retriever. My mama says to tell you I'm not a Weimeraner. I don't know what that means but apparently it's important, so, consider yourself told.
Basically--I'm a dog, as you can see. The only title I care about is my name. It starts with a Brink and ends with a Lee. And when mom calls it, it usually means three things: Love, Food, or Balls. I love balls!
As I think back to my first ball, which I think was yesterday or maybe the day before, I realize the importance of a good ball. I sleep with them. And that's very important because I sleep alone. See I'm scared of the stairs to mom's room. They're tall and have big holes in between them. Craziest things I've ever seen and surely not meant for puppies (but more on that later). Anyway, since losing my big brother, which was yesterday or maybe the day before, I find a ball to be great company.
It doesn't mind if I chew on it. It loves to be chased--just like me! And the best thing is, it never gets tired--just like me! I can play with it by myself but the best way to play is with MOM! I get so excited when I see her pick up a ball (Which are always laying around the house. I should be more careful with my balls because I once went to the doctor and lost my--well,ya know--special balls there. I don't want that to happen again. But that's another story.).
This is my ball face--or game face! Game-on-face! You get the point. I know, it looks like I'm constipated, but I'm really not. I'm not allowed to poop in the house(stupid rule but more on that later).
She makes me wait a long time for it. In fact, by the time she gives it back, it feels like my eye balls might pop right out of my skull. This always makes her laugh. It is pretty cool, I guess. I sure do love to make her laugh. She does this thing with her voice, where she babbles baby talk at me. She appears very unstable, not the leader that I know her to be, but I wag my tail anyway. It's better to just humor her until it passes. I humor her allot (but more on that later).
But boy oh boy, when mom throws that ball she can really huff it! She has a pretty good arm for a female. Though she could use some stamina training. We'll have to work on that.
Anyway, I think humans in general don't play ball enough. They're always on the go, running here or there. I have no idea what is more important then play, but whatever it is, causes far to much stress. Life is too short. I mean how long do we have on this earth, 10 15 years max! Unless you're a cat and then you get twice as much. I have no idea why but I think it's their diet. Or maybe that they're allowed to poop in the house, I don't know, it's all very confusing. I just know that I don't want to loose my human. I want my mom to live as long as I do, so I make sure that she plays ball with me every day. I follow her around, hot on her trail, ball firmly planted in my mouth. If she doesn't get the hint, I bonk her with it. Nothing too hard, just a tap, usually on her knee while she's on the toilet (HEY! Why does she get to poop in the house?) Well, I just want the best for her, and of course, I want to play ball. It's a match made in heaven.
Mom and I, we're good for each other. I love her very much and I know she loves me. Sometimes she comes down to the guest bedroom and sleeps with me. She's very brave and not scared of those stairs at all! She even lets me get into bed with her and I'm allowed to bring a ball. I admit she sorta fussed about this at first, but I just gave her the look:
Now I'm allowed to bring several balls to bed with me. I think she feels guilty for not letting me poop in the house.
But more on that later.
Brinkley
Job well done. Now, reward yourself. Climb into your humans lap, or the nearest pile of "stuff" you can find, and just go to sleep. 8 or 12 hours later--about the time it takes to lap up a good drink of water--get up and do it again.
That's right--now they know why they took us into their home. With out us, they'd never undersand the importance of play. And we do it, why? Because we love them. And we love to play--of course.
It's good to be the dog!
Brinkley
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Brinkley's Corner: Life Is A Ball
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