Daisy and Beanie

Daisy’s POV

Now that you know a little bit about me and Beanie, it’s time to play!

We’re in what they call the “living room”. There are a lot of big, plush things called “sofas” and “chairs” to run around and try to jump onto. The bigger dogs, like the Shih Tzus we share a home with, jump up there and sit like royalty. But, most of the sofas are too tall for us puppies to even get our paws onto. Still, they’re comfortable to sit on when our current owners pick us up and let us have a few moments to explore.

Most of the time, though, they just let us explore the ground. There are training pads everywhere. We get praise and “yummy treats” for going to the bathroom on them. But, if we go to the bathroom anywhere else, then we get a finger wagged at us. I don’t like the finger because then it means no treats… That’s why Beanie, Pretzel, Fat Brother, and I like to stay on the training pads! It’s like a game!

“Keep off the hardwood!” we bark at one another as we pounce around the room, bouncing from one training pad to the next.

Our little tails wag and our whole bodies wobble as we run and nip at each other’s ears. We can hear our current owners laughing and speaking to us. Sometimes I understand what they are saying. Other times, it takes time to figure out what they mean. They’ll say a word and then they’ll point or gesture until we pick up on things. And, when we do pick up on things, more praise and…. More treats!

I like that.

More treats!

More treats!

Beanie has the right idea. She’ll sit and watch our current owners and listen to what they have to say. They’ll give her treats for being so good. I wish I could be good like her, but I have so much trouble sitting still! Sometimes I just have to run around and play with things that I’m not supposed to!

“Mousey, no! Mousey…. no!”

My little teeth are mid-dig into the corner of one of the training pads, and a finger is jabbed in my direction. I let out a playful growl and give the training pad another good yank until I see that finger in my face again and I hear, “Mousey… I said, ‘no’!”

Sorrowfully, I let the training pad drop from my teeth and it wilts to the ground. I watch it as the corner folds up on itself because it's so chewed up and wet— and then I hang my head at one of my current owners. She knows I’m just trying to have fun, but this is what we call “training”, and the training pad is off limits for eating.

The training pad is for “bathroom” and “yummy treats”, I tell myself.

But… I stare between my current owner’s wagging finger and the wilted corner of the training pad, and I let out a small whine. Why can’t I be good like Beanie? I wish I could sit still like her and be “my good, shy girl”. But my paws are always itching to have fun! In my little bit of experience, sometimes it’s so much easier to not listen than to listen.

My brothers often have the same idea that I do. Fat Brother, especially. We’re the trouble-makers out of the four of us. Fat Brother and I get the wagging finger the most, but I’m learning. Finger is bad. “Yummy treats” are good. If I do something that my current owner likes, I get those yummy treats, which means sometimes I just have to play around and see my owner’s reaction.

Treats, good.

Finger, bad.

Laughing and smiles are good, too.

But, even when we do something bad, our current owners aren’t unkind. They’ll wag their fingers and tell us that we are doing something wrong (“No, you don’t eat the paper, Mousey!” or “Mousey, don’t touch!” or “No, you don’t pee on the hardwood, Mousey!”), but then they will still give us lots of pets and tell us how much they care for us (“You’re such a good girl, Mousey!”, “Hey, Little Munchkin!” or “Who’s my good, shy girl?”).

“Training” is a game, too.

When you’re a puppy, there are a lot of games. Sometimes they’re with your littermates. But, other times, they’re with your owners! I’m beginning to like games very, very much! Especially when I learn how to play so well that I’m the one winning! Winning games means more treats!

“Yummy treats,” my littermates and I bark at each other. “Yummy treats!”

We could play for hours, my littermates and I. There’s always so much to do, and there are so many toys and beds and blankets to choose from. As Fat Brother runs for “pink fish” and tosses it around, Pretzel, Beanie, and I are left to play with each other.

I sink my teeth into the soft blanket on the ground, and I yank it around. I growl at it like it’s the enemy and I’ve come to conquer it! I can see Beanie out of the corner of my eye climbing on top of one of our dog beds. She looks so regal up there, watching over all of us— and then Pretzel takes me by surprise! He pounces onto me, and I roll over onto my back.

I hear my current owner say affectionately, “Mousey, on your back getting beat up…”

And then, not even a second later, I get onto my paws and I’m doing the pouncing! I wag my tail and I paw at Pretzel. His tail finds my muzzle, so I open my mouth and get fur in my mouth! I spit out the fur and Pretzel runs away, so I bound after him, tail bobbing.

“Oh, no, you’re doing the beating up,” says my current owner with a laugh.

We run over to Beanie’s dog bed, and now it’s Pretzel and I on the same team to pounce on Beanie and take over her castle! Beanie watches us with careful eyes, wondering what we are up to. Pretzel starts the attack first, nipping at Beanie’s paws, and then I stand on my hind legs and paw at Beanie. She falls from the dog bed, and Pretzel climbs on top of it, the reigning champion.

Beanie scampers off, the fur atop her head like a little mohawk, and I hear our current owner say, with another laugh, “She looks like she has bed head.”

Meanwhile, it’s my turn at the dog bed! I dig my teeth back into the edge of the bed and I shake it as hard as I can, my pointed ears folded back against my head. Pretzel jumps down, bored, and runs off towards Fat Brother, who has given up on “pink fish”, and I’m now the winner of the dog bed!

I go to curl up into the bed, and then Beanie comes back! Beanie grabs a mouthful of the dog bed between her teeth, and she gives it a good shake, too. I try to chase her off, telling her that it’s my turn with the dog bed, but then I give in — Beanie is such a good girl, so she deserves it — and I run off to play with Fat Brother and Pretzel.

Beanie (our calm alpha) climbs back atop the dog bed, and she watches over us once more, as we bark at each other, “Keep off the hardwood! Keep off the hardwood!”

And then we get “yummy treats” for using the training pads and being “good puppies”.