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   It has been said by some that our dog, Billie, might be spoiled. He is a seventy-pound standard poodle that at times does try to make the rules. He has a way of communicating his needs and wants, sometimes becoming insistent about them. When he does his job of protecting the place such as alerting us to the fact the UPS driver has arrived or chasing a squirrel out of the yard, he expects a treat. He cannot be ignored when he knows he needs to be rewarded for a job well done. First, he will stand in front of either my wife or I, staring directly into our eyes, glancing occasionally toward the cupboard that contains his treats. If we do not get the hint, he will go stand by the cupboard and pace back and forth until someone gets the message.

   Poodles are hunting dogs and Billie is no exception. One of his favorite things to hunt is squirrels. Being a fluffy coated dog with hair that attacks every burr and weed seed he gets near, he does not often have the opportunity to hunt in the timber. The next best thing is to hunt from the back seat of the pickup truck while we drive through the back streets in town. When I am getting ready to leave for work, Billie gives me the sad eyes routine in hopes I will take him along. The pleading look he gives me is usually too difficult to resist. In town, I roll his window down enough to allow him to get his head out but not enough to let him bail out. He is on full alert when we near the city limits as he scans the area for squirrels. When one is spotted, there is much barking and prancing about the back seat. We cruise the residential areas harassing the squirrels until my ears hurt from all the joyous barking. This usually only takes two or three squirrels before I have had enough. My ears will be ringing but the dog is happy.

   His second favorite thing to do after going for a ride to hunt squirrels is to play ball. He has several balls but only one will do. He brings his favorite ball and sets it on someone’s lap indicating it is time to go outside and play fetch. There are very specific rules on how we do this. The thrower, usually me, must stand at the end of the porch and throw it out into the yard. If I throw it from the wrong place, such as sitting in my chair on the porch, he will bring it back as far as the end of the porch and wait. If I take the ball from him and go back to my chair to throw it, he will leave the ball where it is and give me a dirty look. I must play by his rules or not at all. The ball may stay where it lies as we are both too stubborn to go get it.

   At the end of the day, Billie decides when it is time to go to bed. At bedtime, he will come and stare at us until one or both of us moves. When we stand up to see what he wants, he goes directly to his bed in our bedroom. It is easier to give up and go to bed then rather than have a dog come back out and stare at us.

   We have come to the conclusion that Billie is not really a spoiled dog, he just has us well trained.

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