I'm getting exercised

The best part about having hyper-active Danny around is the amount of exercise my jelly-like muscles are getting.

Yesterday, Danny was tethered to the railing near the kitchen when everyone went off one-by-one. Instead of squeaking like he normally does, he propped himself up on his hindlegs and unhooked himself.

Then, knowing all the humans go upstairs to roost, he trotted up and started sniffing at the gap below the room door.

He was estatic when I opened the door...hubby was not quite so happy and promptly brought him down.

To keep him quiet and busy, I figured I should attempt wearing him out. Sensing this, Danny decided on Catch. For some reason, he insisted on running around and around the dining table with me chasing him. It was making me dizzy.

So, I decided on a more dignified approach. He likes to follow people, so I headed down the stairs to the basement and he sped past me. By the time I reached the bottom, he was waiting for me. I immediately made an about-turn and headed back up.

I did about 10 over sets of up and down before he conked out on the floor, panting away and refusing to budge.

I was quite pleased with my efforts. However, in about 10 minutes, he was up and ready to have another go.

I, on the other hand, ended the evening with a cramp in my butt.

Thanks to Danny, in another month or so I should be the proud owner of a nicely toned tush.

What's my name again?

Still on the subject of names, one of the things we were taught in puppy class was how to teach your dog his name. Dogs don't understand English so it's not like you can go "Your name is Rover, okay? Geddit?"

They have to learn that a certain sound is their name by association.

Step 1: Have some treats nearby and call your dog. Just one time. The reason is because if your dog hears "Rover! Rover! Rover!", he thinks his name is "Roverorverrover". There's a good chance he won't respond, so after that...

Step 2: Make a lot of noise. Clap, tap something, whistle. Stuff that would attract his attention. If that still fails...

Step 3: Walk up to him holding the treat. Push it in front of his nose so he can smell it. Lead him back to where you were and then give it to him.

And repeat.

Danny, being the greedy, bottomless pit that he is, took very well to the treats. A very good thing, too. Remember how he's this hyper-active dog? Now, whenever he's tearing up the house and driving us crazy, hubby and I will go get a handful of treats each. I'll head to the basement and we'll start calling him.

The first time I called him, he dashed down the stairs so fast he rounded the corner, skidded, crashed straight into the door, shook his head a couple of times and made a beeline for his treat.

By the fourth of fifth time, he was down to trotting. By the time we were done, so was he.

I love training, don't you?

What's my name?

I never really gave much thought to my dog's names. Generally me and the family just picked whatever caught our fancy and that was it. So far it's been names that most people wouldn't dream of using on people: Trakker, Chassard, Victri,.... Danny is the exception, thanks to my hubby, who is a whole lot saner than the rest of us.

As it was, I was doing a little read up about dog names and realised that there are actually a couple of guidelines when it comes to naming a dog.

1) The name should ideally be two syllables. Why? One syllable words are usually commands, for example, "sit", "down", "stay". Naming a dog Bob, for example, could confuse him into thinking you're giving him a command. And, any name longer than two syllables are hard for dogs to process.

In Trakker's case, the two syllable rule worked too well. It hit a point where we could call whatever two syllable word we wanted, as long as we used the same tone, our friend would come running. No kidding. "Furball", "Fat Butt", "Armpit" all worked wonders.

2) The name should not sound like anyone's in the family or the dog could get confused; ie you could be calling for "Bobby" but Poppy arrives instead of your bro.

Unfortunately, by the time I discovered this rule, we had already named Danny. "Danny", you see, rhymes with "Daddy".

The good news is that Danny doesn't seem to get mixed up. The problem, however, is that when we call "Danny", Daddy comes running.