Man's Best Friend

Action is the real measure of intelligence.
-Napoleon Hill, American author (1883-1970)

Little Sally Pumpkinhead has always been a bit of a goof. I thought the problem was poor or total lack of impulse control on her part but I may be wrong. She is very good at ignoring me when I tell her to come if she is busy doing something she doesn't want to stop like searching for bunnies when we are out walking. She has a hard time staying in place after being told to sit for a treat. She always breaks and moves to a position right in front of me in an attempt to not be overlooked when the doggie biscuits are handed out. She will not stop getting up on the couch and comfy chair in the living room, our bed in the bedroom, and the futon in the basement no matter how many times she had been caught doing so and no matter how many times she has been scolded for it. Of course she would be caught less if she did not stand right next to said couch, comfy chair, bed, and futon with the same look on her face as a rookie football player who just got caught committing a foul on the field and is trying convince the Ref that he is innocent of all charges.

This morning I went into the bedroom to make the bed and noticed that one the dog blankets was missing. Little Sally Pumpkinhead loves to take her blanket outside and whip it around as if she is trying to kill. This is a game I try to discourage as it ends with her bringing the now dirty blanket back into the house and dropping bits of dead grass all over the carpet which are a pain to clean up. She used to proudly prance across the living room with the blanket in her mouth before racing outside but now that she knows it is supposed to stay in the house she sneaks it out through the kitchen. After checking around the house to see if it was still inside, I looked out the front door and found her lying near the front steps with the blanket wadded up under her body. I did not want to go out to try and take the blanket away from her as that usually ends up with her griping the blanket in her teeth and racing off for a game of "Chase me, chase me!" Instead I stood at the door and called her to me, following that command with the words "bring it." She stared at me and I again told her to come and bring the blanket with her. I did not really expect her to do this but she grabbed the blanket with her teeth, stood up, trotted up the front step, through the front door, through the living room to the bedroom, hurried to her bed, dropped the blanket on her bed and lay down on top of it. She stared at me with a look that said, "Is this what you wanted?"

Now why do I now have the feeling that Little Sally Pumpkinhead isn't the goof I thought she was but instead  is a very smart dog who has been playing me for a fool?