Furbettina

l'Eschietta.

Today, I played a little game with Eska before leaving. With each item of "outer wear" I put on (which got her attention), I left her a little treat to pick up in the spot I was leaving. I gave her half a cookie in her crate, left the other half in the doorway to my room as I put on my coat, left a rawhide bone under the coffee table in the living room as I drew my boots on, and finally, set down a milkbone in the entrance as I threw on my schoolbag and headed out. Each time, she responded impeccably: she brought her newly found item into her crate, then followed me to retrieve the next. I left the apartment when I heard her settle with her fun objects in her treasure cove.

She's so smart, I thought. Maybe today will be a good day.

Today was not a bad day, to tell the truth: she broke the handle off an espresso cup and turned over a box of paper, but she could have done worse.

Then I looked into the kitchen.

It's true, as a neighbour (and her dog, Milo) told me this morning: this girl is not just a pretty face. Much like she found her way into the trash can earlier this week, today she managed to pry open the cupboard where I keep her cookies and treats. I don't think she ate any, as all the boxes seemed to be as full (or as empty) as I had left them, but that's entirely beside the point.

Good looks, a killer personality, and a brain?

Who is this dog? Me?

Ha.