We have been sitting still in the church pew for over an hour now. I am amazed that after a few days of too much school to do, and even more rain, that Dante has behaved himself as well as he has for the last few hours. For not getting as much exercise as he really needed in the last few days, he has made it through Sunday morning better than I expected. I honestly prepared myself to have to sit outside with him. But he is great, and laying so still.
You see, Dante thinks he is entitled to certain things. Oh, like kibble when he does something well. Hence why a pouch of treats on the hip is a necessity of any fashionable outfit in my life. It usually works quite well; Dante does something I like, I praise and (at his age, occasionally) reward him.
Dante is very good about not begging for food when we go out to eat. But, he also knows that people do not eat in Church. And he apparently thinks that anything I have in my hand is meant for him. Or so he thought.
This week we had Communion, and Dante thought he was entitled to partake. As the plate was passed down the row, Dante's head popped up. "Uh-oh," I think. My eyes meet my mom's and we know we are in for it. I put my foot on the leash, just as Dante tries to sit up. We spend a few minutes with Dante trying to pop up without avail, but then he settles down again. Just as I let my guard down, "WOOF!" I quickly cup my hand over his muzzle, "Quiet!" I whisper.
I look up, everyone was startled at first, but then started laughing. It is times like these that I am incredible thankful for a Church Family that is supportive of puppy raising and loves Dante. But that doesn't mean puppy raising does not have its embarrassing moments.
Thank you, Dante, for keeping me humble.