“Leave it” means Walk on by, Bob. Sure, there’s a piece of bacon just inches from your drooling piehole, but do me a favor and just pretend it’s not there, okay?

Uh, not okay. Where I come from, you never pass up a free meal. UFO drops to the carpet, it’s mine. And I’ll be chowing it down before you can say, Where the heck is my meatball?

Within minutes, I was accused of being an undermotivated student, which is totally unfair.

I am highly motivated.

Just show me some cheese, please.

Anyways. I may or may not have been a little unruly. Class-clown stuff. Tailspinning, a little random peeing, some zoomies, just for show.

“Class, you see that crazy dashing around he’s doing?” said the teacher, pointing at me with an accusing finger. “We call that a FRAP. Frantic Random Activity Period.”

She pulled Julia aside. “He’s a smart dog,” she said. “But he’s messing with you.”

Which was true. But I hated getting caught in the act. I’d thought I was more subtle.

“Bob needs to know who’s boss,” said the teacher. “He needs to see you as pack leader. Give him some time. I see this a lot with former strays. Takes them a while to trust people.”

Like forever, in my case.

As we left the class early, I yelled, “So long, suckers!” to my classmates.

Couldn’t help rubbing it in just a little.

my car thing

I s’pose the real reason for the training stuff isn’t my bad manners. Although they leave a bit to be desired.

It’s my car thing.

I’ve always had a hang-up about cars and trucks. Also riding lawn mowers. Go-karts. Anything with four wheels, an engine, and a driver.

Don’t like ’em. Don’t want to ride in ’em. Don’t want anything to do with ’em.

Those copilot dogs with their heads hanging out the window, flying their drool flags? Boneheads.

First of all, it ain’t safe. And second of all, bad stuff can happen after you climb into a car.

Take it from me.

When Julia and George and Sara realized I have transportation issues, they tried to lure me into the back seat of their car with treats.

But you’d be surprised how stubborn I can be.

I yelped so loud, the neighbors came running out to see what was happening to the poor little doggie.

Score one for the poor little doggie.

click

That’s when they started clicker training me.

Click, here’s a treat.

Come closer to the car, Bob.

Click, here’s a treat.

Watch while I open the car door, Bob.

Click, here’s a treat.

Come right up to the seat, Bob.

Click, here’s a treat.

Come on in, Bob.

Bob?

BOB?

WHERE ARE YOU, BOB?

Yeah, it was like that a lot.

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