I get a little nervous when leaving Scrubs with a babysitter. I don't get nervous about leaving the boys with a babysitter. But Scrubs? He has become a very good listener for me. For JB. But to people who are not his pack leaders? Hardly.
Yesterday I had an idea. The babysitters were coming at 11:30. From the time we got up until 11:30, I would wear Scrubs out so much he'd have choice but to behave for the babysitters.
So from 7am when we went on a family run until 11:25 when the babysitters came through our front door, I did everything in my power to not let Scrubs lie down. Tired? Too bad. Get up. Follow me into this room. Chase the flashlight three times. Frisbee in the front yard. Rings. Rings again. Rings the next time. (That was the time he looked at me as if to say I cannot possibly jump for those rings one more darned time.)
By the time the babysitters arrived, Scrubby was, to say the least, horribly exhausted. He was intrigued by the guests but you could tell his body just desperately wanted a nap -- the nap I had interrupted him from every second I could that morning.
The result: Scrubs was a perfect doggie for the babysitters. We tell the babysitters they can leave him in the kitchen the entire time. But they didn't. They let him out. And they said that he spent the majority of the time following Isaac looking for dropped cheerios and taking a nap next to them on the floor! Holy cow. He did real, bonafide dogs things for the babysitters. He's been doing that for us over the last few months. But for the guests? Not an easy feat.
Unless you are so plum tuckered out you can't possibly manage to misbehave!
What a good plan, Wendi. (If I do say so myself.)
2 comments:
Ode to Scrubs
Scrubby’s a dog that we all love,
It’s clear to the world he’s a gift from above;
But when he is rested and ready to play,
We all want to dump his butt in the bay!
He’s strong as a bull and twice as quick,
Foxes are clever; he’s three times as slick.
When visitor’s come he’s hard to ignore,
Cuz two steps inside and you’re knocked to the floor!
Yet he does do some things endearing and sweet,
Like licking your face and stomping your feet.
Yet Wendi and John are glad he’s around,
He’s not near as bad as the Baskerville hound!
We smile cuz he’s good with the Kitsteiner boys,
He eats their spilled food and won’t chew their toys;
He’s real photogenic and oh so good-looking;
(But mugshots precede a criminal booking!)
Yes, this is my ode to a really fine dog,
He truly is great (when he sleeps like a log.)
We love him as much as we possibly could,
Shhh…the house is still standing, so all knock on wood!
LOL! Great idea, Wendi, and I LOVE the poem! =)
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