They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but Casey defied the odds on that one. She didn't learn new tricks in the traditional sense of the word; it's not like all of a sudden she could roll over on command, but she did learn new ways to manipulate to get what she wanted. She finally learned that begging for treats was worth her time.
She would just sit by the treats and wait for us. She was good about it as she wouldn't cry, but she had a lot of patience and was going to hold out until she got what she wanted.
She also set up an elaborate ploy to get those treats. When I took her out to go potty before bed, she would refuse to go until I let her off leash. She would just stand there and refuse to move, and then once she got her freedom, she would cruise around and take care of business. But she wouldn't hustle back inside, and since it was late and I was tired, I would offer her a late night treat to coax her inside. Well, after a couple times of doing this, she got better, did her business and hustled back to the door. Unfortunately, when she got inside, she didn't go to the bedroom, she went straight to the hallway to sit by the treats. The first few times, Stef would ask where Casey was, so I would wander out there, and see her sitting right by the treats in total darkness, just waiting to get her snack before bedtime. It was so damn cute that she of course always got the treat.
But then it was off to bed, and I have to admit that I loved our complicated bedtime routine. I would take Casey outside, and go through the scenario above, but then I would come back inside and do teeth stuff while she would sneak over to the bed and lie directly across my pillows. Sometimes, she would want help getting on the bed, so she would just put her front half on the bed and wait for me to help her up. When I was finished with teeth stuff, I would go over to her, and she would give me a kiss before spinning over to the middle of the bed which was her spot. She would then pick and choose who to snuggle with.
(Note: That is a dryer sheet, not a condom on the blanket) And when I say she picked who to snuggle with, she would rarely stick with that person for an entire night. Instead, she would get bored with one person, and then ask the the other person to lift up the blanket in the middle of the night so she could switch snuggle buddies. In the early years, I wanted nothing to do with her snuggles, because she would wake me up and make me super hot. But in the later years, I learned to love it. I could have disrupted sleep and get overheated in bed as long as she was comfortable.
Oh, and sometimes for our bedtime routine, she would give me a kiss and not move an inch. My pillows were her spot for the night. That meant that I had the middle spot in the bed, and I was the one who had to be next to my wife. Talk about a bummer.
Casey also learned to use her sexuality to get what she wanted.
This dog could catch anything, and the amazing part of this one is how casual she looks over, catches, and drops while putting the absolute least amount of effort into the whole ordeal. That dog was smooth when she wanted to be.
But she didn't always want to be smooth. Sometimes she was a dang goofball like the time we went to a beer and burger festival.
Not only did she crawl under the table, she also refused to get up, so I definitely had to lift her up and carry her away so other people could get beer.
And her crawling under a table makes me think of her bravery. When things got tough, Casey got hiding. She had some traditional hiding spots, like in a corner behind the curtains.
I did have to commend her for bringing a pillow with her. She found one of her safest spots in the guest bathroom.
There were definitely times where I was surprised to see a weimy curled up in a tub to get away from whatever noise she had just heard, but as long as you hunkered down near her, she kept a smile on her face.
She could also find good spots in the kitchen. I'm not sure if she's scared in this one or just wants to overcome the perception that she was just another hot piece of ass. If it's the latter, I think she took it a little too literally.
Update: Although she initially held her ground, she did eventually get her butt out of the fridge.
Another time, we were out at a brewery having a great time enjoying the beautiful weather. All was well with the world.
Unfortunately, Casey heard a loud noise and she needed to get moving. I took her for a walk, hoping that it would calm her down. She headed straight for the car and refused to move. I decided to call her bluff and let her in the car, because there wasn't anything cool going on, so she would get bored and want to go hang out with her Mom and me. It turns out she was perfectly happy in the car.
See that little weimy head riding shotgun? She chilled in the car (that was parked in the shade), and I would go and check on her and try to coax her out every few minutes. She held her ground, and we kept an eye on her as we finished our beers. Luckily, we were meeting people at a different brewery, and she regained her courage when we changed locations.
The one thing that trumped her fear was her loyalty. Every day when I came home from work, she would be waiting by the door for me, freaking out when I finally arrived.
Okay, so maybe she wasn't freaking out every day, because if I came home early, I would sometimes find her just passed out by the door. If I came home earlier than that, she would be passed out in bed, but something about her internal clock let her know to get to that front door around 5:00 PM, because her Pop-Pop was coming home, and she needed to be there for that. And she really did freak out as she would be crying nonstop, and I would start crying back at her, and then she would start howling, and I would start howling, and we would make a ton of noise around the neighborhood as she would howl her face off while standing between my legs as I scratched her. It was the best thing to come home to.
She simply could not miss out on anything.
Here she, is, sitting and staring at me, because even though she just begged to come outside with me, she would then want to go back inside to see her Mom. As you can see behind her, we already adjusted the blinds up so she could see in and out of the house at all times. This was by necessity since she would ram the blinds so hard with her nose that she broke three of them.
Luckily, we found a solution to her issue.
It was not an ideal situation when the air conditioning was on in the Florida summers, but this was the best of both worlds for her since she stayed cool while being in the middle of the action.
We got her a new bed to hang outside with me, but she had to do some work to make it just right.
She was still more comfortable being slightly closer to us.
She didn't always need to be all over us as just resting on us was often enough. I became a pillow her her.
Stef became a pillow for her.
Come to think of it, maybe she just loved pillows.
Or anything that she could make work as a pillow.
Yeah, the dog just loved to rest. She also loved to steal spots so the second that I would get up, she would take over where I was sitting. She did occasionally block me from the computer in this manner. Far more often, she would see me typing away, and would just smack the computer shut with her paw. It was aggressive but effective as I knew that it was time to give Casey my full attention if she was willing to go to those extreme measures.
But as much as she appreciated laying that beautiful head to rest, she still, even at double digits in age, loved to play more than anything. And there was no place she loved to play more than at Clearwater Beach.
There was no place where she had such relentless energy. She got to chase her ball, stay cool in the water, and everybody admired her. It had to have been her favorite place in the world. She could have a fun time just hanging out on the beach and going for a walk while enjoying the breeze, but her passion was still the water and chasing her orange ball.
Even at her age, she would instantly revert back to that puppy energy in the water and go chasing after her ball no matter how far I threw it from her. And if we went out of town, where I didn't have her orange ball available at the beach, she knew how to improvise to have a good time.
Unfortunately, it also made her incredibly dirty from all that sand so we had to take a shower which she never enjoyed doing. Well, almost never.
One time, after a long play session at the park, I had to take a shower. Imagine my surprise when I heard the clip-clop of her nails on the tile floor, looked down, and saw that she decided to just casually cruise in next to me. She just stood there, waiting to be washed, and I cannot imagine I will ever meet another dog that decided she was dirty and needed to be cleaned, but Casey was certainly one-of-a-kind.
But she wouldn't be an only child for much longer.
She would just sit by the treats and wait for us. She was good about it as she wouldn't cry, but she had a lot of patience and was going to hold out until she got what she wanted.
She also set up an elaborate ploy to get those treats. When I took her out to go potty before bed, she would refuse to go until I let her off leash. She would just stand there and refuse to move, and then once she got her freedom, she would cruise around and take care of business. But she wouldn't hustle back inside, and since it was late and I was tired, I would offer her a late night treat to coax her inside. Well, after a couple times of doing this, she got better, did her business and hustled back to the door. Unfortunately, when she got inside, she didn't go to the bedroom, she went straight to the hallway to sit by the treats. The first few times, Stef would ask where Casey was, so I would wander out there, and see her sitting right by the treats in total darkness, just waiting to get her snack before bedtime. It was so damn cute that she of course always got the treat.
But then it was off to bed, and I have to admit that I loved our complicated bedtime routine. I would take Casey outside, and go through the scenario above, but then I would come back inside and do teeth stuff while she would sneak over to the bed and lie directly across my pillows. Sometimes, she would want help getting on the bed, so she would just put her front half on the bed and wait for me to help her up. When I was finished with teeth stuff, I would go over to her, and she would give me a kiss before spinning over to the middle of the bed which was her spot. She would then pick and choose who to snuggle with.
Oh, and sometimes for our bedtime routine, she would give me a kiss and not move an inch. My pillows were her spot for the night. That meant that I had the middle spot in the bed, and I was the one who had to be next to my wife. Talk about a bummer.
Casey also learned to use her sexuality to get what she wanted.
Casey and I were the only two official members of the aptly named, "Joe and Casey Kiss Club," but she did start to share those sweet kisses with others as time went on, because she knew she could get what she wanted if she did. For others, she would use it for treats, and for me, she would occasionally exploit my weakness for her and stay out of trouble by giving me a gentle kiss.
Let me state this for the record: Casey was a legitimately good kisser. I know that sounds weird, but she did not kiss like a dog. She was soft and gentle in her kisses, and she occasionally slipped a tongue in to keep things spicy. I have kissed multiple human females (double digits, no big deal), and not all of them had as much technique as Casey The Dog. Here's a picture of Casey just finishing giving me a kiss as I give her scratchies.
She would always hop up on the couch or bed and then claw at me to come near, so she could put her front paws up on me, and I could give her scratchies on both sides. It may have been my favorite thing that we did together, because it was simple yet enjoyable for both of us. Oh, and here is my reaction to getting such a great kiss.
Objectively, I can't say she's the best kisser in the world, but subjectively, I can say that there was no one I enjoyed kissing more.
Still, she relied on some old tricks that had treated her well over the years.
She also still had great mouth-eye coordination.Let me state this for the record: Casey was a legitimately good kisser. I know that sounds weird, but she did not kiss like a dog. She was soft and gentle in her kisses, and she occasionally slipped a tongue in to keep things spicy. I have kissed multiple human females (double digits, no big deal), and not all of them had as much technique as Casey The Dog. Here's a picture of Casey just finishing giving me a kiss as I give her scratchies.
Still, she relied on some old tricks that had treated her well over the years.
Even with the yoga mat in the way, she had no problem doing her cool spins to get what she wanted.
This dog could catch anything, and the amazing part of this one is how casual she looks over, catches, and drops while putting the absolute least amount of effort into the whole ordeal. That dog was smooth when she wanted to be.
But she didn't always want to be smooth. Sometimes she was a dang goofball like the time we went to a beer and burger festival.
And her crawling under a table makes me think of her bravery. When things got tough, Casey got hiding. She had some traditional hiding spots, like in a corner behind the curtains.
She could also find good spots in the kitchen. I'm not sure if she's scared in this one or just wants to overcome the perception that she was just another hot piece of ass. If it's the latter, I think she took it a little too literally.
Update: Although she initially held her ground, she did eventually get her butt out of the fridge.
Another time, we were out at a brewery having a great time enjoying the beautiful weather. All was well with the world.
The one thing that trumped her fear was her loyalty. Every day when I came home from work, she would be waiting by the door for me, freaking out when I finally arrived.
She simply could not miss out on anything.
Luckily, we found a solution to her issue.
We got her a new bed to hang outside with me, but she had to do some work to make it just right.
She was still more comfortable being slightly closer to us.
She didn't always need to be all over us as just resting on us was often enough. I became a pillow her her.
Stef became a pillow for her.
Come to think of it, maybe she just loved pillows.
Or anything that she could make work as a pillow.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't even pillows; it may have just been that her neck needed a rest from supporting that big ol' dome.
But as much as she appreciated laying that beautiful head to rest, she still, even at double digits in age, loved to play more than anything. And there was no place she loved to play more than at Clearwater Beach.
There was no place where she had such relentless energy. She got to chase her ball, stay cool in the water, and everybody admired her. It had to have been her favorite place in the world. She could have a fun time just hanging out on the beach and going for a walk while enjoying the breeze, but her passion was still the water and chasing her orange ball.
Even at her age, she would instantly revert back to that puppy energy in the water and go chasing after her ball no matter how far I threw it from her. And if we went out of town, where I didn't have her orange ball available at the beach, she knew how to improvise to have a good time.
Unfortunately, it also made her incredibly dirty from all that sand so we had to take a shower which she never enjoyed doing. Well, almost never.
But she wouldn't be an only child for much longer.
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