A small success

My house is definitely not clean. My dinners are not worth mentioning most of the time. I don't particularly like to decorate my house. My parenting style is not the best. BUT . . .

Hold your breath.

Today . . .

today . . .

I

taught

my

dog, Charlie,

how to walk on the treadmill! Yes, I DID!

Silly, I know. When I could be accomplishing all those other things at the top. It's so rainy today, and Cesar Millan, the famous Dog Whisperer, says that a good dog is a tired dog. He has entire shows devoted to owners that cannot get their dogs onto treadmills. AND I DID IT!!!! HEHEHEEEE. Okay, enough with the bragging. My arm is numb, and I won't need to do those five pound weights on the right. It took a good twenty minutes just to coax the dog to remain in the center of the thing. And to move both the front and the hind legs. He thought he could protest apparently by just sitting. The front legs moved out of sheer need to survive, but the back ones were a bit more stubborn. I also had to hold him practically by the collar. But by the end of his quarter mile walk, his leash was relaxed, and he was centered all by himself.

I think Cesar would be proud. I know I am. Wow, enough with back patting, already!