Dyls was up for it tonight. We went for long walk in the woods in the afternoon and worked on our strategy.
Me: Dyls it’s not long to the Good Citizen exam, we have to step up our game.
Dyls: Yeah whatever, ooh is that a squirrel. I could have that!
OK, maybe I was exaggerating a bit at the start!
So as is the norm Dylan bounced into puppy class. It was smaller than usual – just four of us. Dyls, Maisie a Cockerdoodle and a new girl, Ruby the black lab and Boo the Cavapoo was back after her holiday.
But word had obviously reached everyone about last weeks sausage gate, as when we sat waiting for class to start, everyone reached into their bags to pull out the nights treats and everyone had – you’ve guessed it – sausages!
Even the trainer had replenished her stock!
It was like a puppy class guard of honour for Dylan and she looked suitably proud. Though being rewarded for naughtiness – mmm not sure about that.
The trainer had news.
It seems the Good Citizen Bronze test is in two weeks.
But then came the bombshell. In tonight’s class only two dogs were being entered for this test – and Dylan wasn’t one of them.
Clearly the trainer went home last week and thought about her unblemished record and decided Dyls is not ready.
However Boo, Dylan’s bff will be taking the test.
The reality sunk in – Dyls and I will be the longest serving members of class and Dyls will be the oldest puppy in class. My little one has been leapfrogged by every other puppy – some of whom are about to take their Silver GC awards.
Dylan seemed to get this and gave the trainer major stink eye, before slowly and purposefully turning her back on her.
So on that little bombshell, class begins.
Heel walk round the room. Dyls nailed it.
Off lead recall, and whilst the three other puppies missed the sit at the end, Dyls scampered to me and slid into the perfect sit.
I looked at her. She stared back as if to say “Drop me from the test, how dare they”.
The gate, scene of many of Dylan’s misadventures – see previous posts – and again Dyls was exemplary.
Sit and stay for a minute.
Dylan again sat like a perfect Welshie statue, her chocolate button eyes fixed on the trainer with what could only be described as abject disdain.
In fact, the trainer fidgeted more than Dyls, obviously feeling uncomfortable under the glare coming from my little puppy.
The other dogs shuffled about and didn’t make the minute. Dylan sat triumphant. She even sat rock solid when I dropped her lead and had to walk five paces away from her – unlike the others, who broke ranks and followed their mums.
Then I knew what Dyls was doing.
My stubborn, wilful but smart Welshie was not going to be beaten. She was going to show them exactly what she could do – if SHE chose to do it.
Bit of a lesson in life there from a 14 month old pup if you think about it.
Then we had to groom and check our dogs. The others rolled around the floor. Dylan obligingly handed me her paws, opened her mouth, cocked her ears so I could check.
Unnervingly, she was still staring the trainer out.
And it was working. The trainer was looking more uncomfortable by the minute.
The second trainer arrived, she takes the puppies through the silver test in the next class.
Dylan, I’m sure to make a point, made a huge fuss of her and wagged her tail frenetically, even when the second trainer said “Oh here is my favourite Little Miss Trouble.”
“No”, said our trainer, “Dylan has been superb tonight – in fact the only one here tonight that would sail through the Bronze”.
And with that, Dylan decided she had won – job done!
So final task, off lead walk round the room.
Dylan did it perfectly. Until…
We got to the end, where our trainer stood beaming at us.
“Dylan you’ve made me proud, I think you are ready after all.”
Dylan stared up at her. Wagged her tail. The trainer was still smiling. I on the other hand knew something was occurring.
Dylan started to hack. And in a first for Dylan and apparently in the history of puppy class – Dylan projectile vomited on the trainers feet.
Thank good it’s been a bit chilly today and she was wearing boots!
Dyls was obviously not feeling ill, as once she’d thrown up, she was bouncing around like Tigger again, smiling and looking very pleased with herself.
We cleared up the mess and made a hasty retreat.
I think for a split second we were back on the test list.
I don’t think we are now.
So as Dyls is doing victory rolls on the sofa, I have hit the gin. Possibly followed by some wine and then possibly followed by yet more wine.
Life is definitely merrier with a Welsh Terrier – in more ways than one!