If I were just a little smarter, I could understand Buddy.  Poor thing, he was trying so hard to tell us something, and we just didn’t get it for several minutes.  He was patient for the humans, though.

It was time for our morning drive for breakfast, and we had our youngest son going along.  He had surprised us by arriving at 2:30 in the morning, saying to wake him up for breakfast out before we had to work, and then he collapsed on the sofa…Buddy an eager companion, by his side.  “So nice to have my brother here,” Buddy thought.

He’s always sure they come just to see him.

The next morning, we got up and dressed hurriedly, to meet our heavily scheduled day, and the breakfast added to it, though we were glad to do it.

“Get your leash!”  we said to Buddy, when we all were by the front door.  Buddy ran upstairs to get it and then ran back down without it.  “Buddy!  Get your leash!”  we said again.

Again, Buddy ran upstairs and came back down without it.  He sat expectantly by the front door. 

“Buddy, quit being stubborn and get your leash!”  Buddy ran back upstairs, disappeared and then came back to the top of the stairs and barked politely.  One little, short bark. 

Exasperated, Buddy’s dad walked up stairs.   Oops.  The bedroom door was closed, and Buddy was looking at it imploringly.   “Dad!  Get my leash!”  He was saying with his eyes.

So, dad opened the door, Buddy got his leash by the bed, and off he went downstairs.  He dropped it by the door.  Picked it up again, raised up on his hind legs as was his routine, and gave the leash to dad to be fastened around his neck.  He does this, so “dad” doesn’t have to bend over.  Smart dog.  Dump parent.  Next time, open the bedroom door, dummy.

Ok, Buddy, we get it.

-Buddy’s Mom, learning dog talk one bark at a time.