Someone said our little buddy would be able to do all this.
Well, someone must of been on crack, because I don't think the poor little guy has it in his genetics.
We named him Wyatt after Wyatt Earp. If names really are self fulfilling prophecy's then that probably wasn't the smartest thing to do.
On to the story- Last night I went upstairs to get a midnight snack. Coming back down the stairs I slipped on the last steps. I don't know if my leg gave out or what but I was on the ground and my lower limbs weren't working and I had partial control over my top.
I called out to my parents several times, over and over again. Nothing. So I thought to myself....Self, this is why you have Wyatt, why don't you get him to go tell mom and dad that Timmy is in the well. This was his time to prove himself.
I was able to open the door to the basement to let him out, he ran through it, sniffed me a couple of times then ran to the top of the stairs. I was so excited! Yes! He's going to help me.
(when he was one month old)
I then said "Go get momma Wyatt. Go get momma!"
He didn't budge.
"Go get momma baby, please Wyatt, go get momma." I at this point was in a lot of pain and had a crackle to my voice.
He stood up and turned to go to their door, then turned around and came barreling back down the stairs and started licking my face.
He was drinking up my tears and sniffing my entire body. I'm sure I was setting off a scent that was new to him so he felt the need to explore it. Me being the idiot thinking he could understand me began expelling to him that when I smell like this you need to go get mom.
At first he started nipping at my hands and nudging his nose under my arms and legs. This is usually what he does when he wants us to play with him, but after I wouldn't play and my convulsions started getting more sever he started biting and pulling on my hair. I started screaming on the top of my lungs for my parents and he kept nipping, and nudging and tugging. All of a sudden for who knows why he got up on the stair right above my head and started clawing at my hair like he was burring something. I continued screaming and he started biting at my nose.
At this point I couldn't move, I couldn't defend myself so I just had to take it. I think he thought my screaming was some sort of attack so he went bizurk.
(a couple of weeks ago in his santa suit, age five months)
It seemed like forever by the time my parents finally came. I'm sure the whole deal start to finish was about five to ten min but it felt like thirty.
I have a scratch on my forehead down to my nose and a few bruises and I refused to talk to Wyatt all day. The trainer says he doesn't think like that, that he only knows he's done wrong if we discipline him right away. Then he'll forget until we continue to discipline him right after he does it again.
I don't care I'm still pissed at him, but I'm also pissed that my parents were just down the hall and didn't hear me. My dad keeps saying I need to wear an alert button, but what good does that do if I'm stuck, and can't move to push it.
My little Wyatt may be extremely adorable and full of love, but that dude is a little fart. Were taking him to doggie kindergarten soon. Mom keeps threatening that if he doesn't pick up on the commands faster and start "doing his job" that she's going to have to give him away and get another dog that's already trained for someone like me....uh yeah, like were going to pay thousands of dollars for a service dog.
Besides, Wyatt is my baby, how could I give him away?
Oh, Wyatt. He is a little fart. Maybe when he gets a little older he'll be better at it? I hope the doggie kindergarten works for him. :)
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