You are what you eat, or I've got a squirrel-dog

Grendel's not doing so hot on the grade 2 stuff. It's a lot more complicated, and I've been dragging my butt trying to be consistent with the little fugger. We need to perfect the down-stay-sit commands on the long lead. Grendel, the 8 pound terror, has to be manageable at the end of a 20 foot lead. It's tricky getting him to behave on the short leash. Slowly but surely, he's getting better.

To his credit however, he sits well on command, and sticks to my left heel when he's at my side. Good on him. He's also learning to be a diplomat. You ask "diplomacy? Huh?" I'm giving Grendel treats while I'm teaching him to shake a paw. It's just one of those things that every dog should do. Oddly enough, I have found that the wee dog quite enjoys roasted peanuts. The great big Virginia peanuts at the St. Lawrence Market are his favourite.

My dog is a little nuts, so I guess the title is apt. I'm inclined to check with the breeder to make sure that Grendel's mum Rosie wasn't accidentally mated with a black squirrel and not Paco. At 8 months of age, it's a little late to be asking about my money back, and I love the little fugger anyway, no matter if he's part rodent.