Coversations with Gwen

I was on my way home from work last night and talking on the phone with Gwen, who was having trouble sleeping.

" I can't go to bed! Belmont is in my spot."
"Just slide him to the edge of the bed."
"I don't think that will work."
"Really, just grab his legs and pull him down the edge of the bed. I bet he won't even raise his head."

"Ok, I'll give it a try. I'm going to set the phone down. (in the distance) Ok Belmont! Who wants to go for a ride?
It didn't really work. I had to push him."


Belmont, for all his dumbness, is really good about two things. One, if I am taking him upstairs and someone else gets on the elevator, he will stay right by me and sit down without me having to tell him. And two, when I'm wearing my work clothes, he knows its time to go into his crate. I just touch the back of his neck and he sadly pads off to his little jail. He'll even open the door if its partially closed, turn around, sit down and look at me with his, well, puppy dog eyes. Too bad he can't learn any more tricks.