Boyscouts, and a Terrible Dilemma

Last night, Gizmo went to visit a troop of Boy Scouts. I can't give you all of the specific details, as I couldn't go due to having class. My mom's the one that took him, though, and she said he was an extra good boy for the presentation. We've done a few of these before, and Gizmo's always a complete ham. He loves kids.

To reward him when he got home for being so good, my mom gave him a brand-new squeaky ball (we keep a stash of new toys on hand for rewards, and to replace other ones as they get worn out). He got to meet a bunch of new kids, saw a new place, peed in a new yard, and got to go to sleep with a brand-new ball in his mouth. Last night was definitely a win for Gizmo.

Cut to this morning.

Gizmo wants out of his crate. I'm sitting at the open crate door to take him outside. Now, here's the problem: Gizmo wants to take his ball with him. So he walks up, ball in mouth. I reach out to click the leash onto his harness. He sees my hand go over his head, and immediately assumes that I'm jealous and I'm stealing his brand new ball. He screams as loud as he can and retreats to the back of the crate. He drops the ball and pees on it while giving me a dirty look, then picks it up and goes to come out again.

I go to click the leash onto the harness again--another obvious attempt at theivery. He screams and retreats again.

We did this back and forth for the better part of twenty minutes before Gizmo finally allowed me to put the leash on him (and even then, it was grudgingly. He made little cussing and grumbling noises the entire time.)

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Picture Taken On: October 7th, 2008