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#so proud of himself – @doomspaniels on Tumblr
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The DOOM Spaniels

@doomspaniels / doomspaniels.tumblr.com

Do not look the hypno-spaniels directly in the eyes. 🥕 Tristan (b&w American cocker spaniel): birthday 2018-05-05; joined us 2018-09-08 🥕 Guinevere (red English working cocker spaniel): birthday 2020-04-18; joined us 2020-12-10 🥕 Yvaine (red and white American cocker spaniel): birthday 2007-12-27; adopted 2011-08-20; returned to the stars 2020-11-16 🥕 Merlin (buff English cocker spaniel): adopted 2015-09-09; gone away, gone ahead 2018-08-26 🥕 Guinevere's Royal Treasurer (GRT), she/her 🥕 Tristan's Fetch and Tug Buddy (TFaTB), he/him
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I got a grill yesterday and threw some treats in the box for Kovu to tear up for Canine Enrichment Purposes. It was a bigger box than he's used to so he got angry-barky at it after a few minutes without progress. So I moved it up on the couch to put it in a new context and revved him up by playing him like a bongo and cheering him on.

It took him a comically long time to rip off his first piece, but when he did, he was SO excited. You could see him light up as he gradually got bigger and bigger pieces, until he finally ripped off a tab of the box.

After a quick zoom around the room with his prize in his mouth, he brought the tab of cardboard to The Crime Corner. The Crime Corner is the ripple rug where Goldfish and Kovu bring stolen items to die. Or, as is more likely in Kovu's case, to be mouthed gently with his soft little mouth.

Once he gave the carboard a good chew in The Crime Corner, he came back to finish his work with renewed confidence and enthusiasm. He was so incredibly pleased with himself when he finished that he walked around with an extra pep in his step for the rest of the night. I'm talking full body, I-am-the-bestest-and-smartest-boy, wiggles.

I am so proud of him. Here is a picture of my wonderful, talented little man, with his hard-earned piece of carboard.

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This. Boy.

Tristan started learning to "go find" with carrot chunks hidden around the house.

Then he started volunteering to bring the Supper Dishes at mealtimes, and we encouraged this with "go find the Supper Dish, bring the Supper Dish," and "okay, we have this one, where's the other one? Go find the other Supper Dish, bring the Supper Dish."

This was expanded to "go find the Good Candy" and "the other Good Candy" for some extremely stinky cow hooves that I sealed into ziplock bags when they were done chewing. Tristan handled the generalization of "go find" really well.

But I was honestly not expecting that when he stole one of my gloves, and I was walking around holding one and jokingly asked, "Tristan, where is the other one?" that he would bring it to me. That would have been a bit much to ask, I was just talking to him because, well, we talk to the pups fairly often. But he DID bring me my other glove. I was astounded. And it rained good candies on the excellent good boy, let me tell you.

Now it's another one of Tristan's games. I show him one half of a pair of gloves or socks; "Tristan, where is the other one? Go find the other one!" He's very good at finding it. And when he brings it, he wags his whole body so much that the cloth sways in his mouth.

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doomspaniels

~ THE OUTLAW VILLAIN AND THE SNAKE OIL SALESSPANIEL, PART II ~

Recap: You're a respectable traveler in this here western territory, working your way across the Wild West to get to a very intriguing job that was advertised in the papers back home. You are sure this Snake Oil Salesspaniel is a charlatan and a mountebank. What will you do?

Suddenly you remember something you just saw in the Sheriff's Office, and you dash back inside for a moment.

When you come back out, you turn the other way and run your errands at the General Store. You do need a bunch of supplies, and you buy a new bandana so the Snake Oil Salesspaniel won't recognize you.

You sneak around behind the wagon and snitch all the wares. You also pilfer all the experimental equipment, so the Salesspaniel can't pull this dirty scheme again so easily. You pinch everything from right under that spaniel's tail.

And finally, you purloin the gold this bandit stole in the train heist! And in its place, you leave the WANTED poster you picked up from the Sheriff's Office. Because the scoundrel had a haircut and got a new outfit, but that is definitely the same spaniel. Not just selling rotgut like it's a miracle cure, this spaniel is a dirty rotten highwayman in disguise.

You carry all this booty to the Sheriff's Office, and leave it with a note as you collect your gun and hie on to the next town in a hurry. The Snake Oil Bandit didn't hurt anybody in that train robbery, and the gold has all been recovered. The bandit deserves a chance to get away, start over, maybe turn over a new paw.

~ PERSPECTIVE CUT ~

Recap: You're a respectable salesspaniel who's just finished making a magnificent marketing pitch, and this crowd is eager to pay anything for your quack nostrum. You spring down off your soapbox, and turn to start exchanging Superb Snake Oil for oodles of money.

But... there's nothing there! All your wares, gone! And when you look behind the curtain... so is your ill-gotten gold from the train heist. All that's left is a WANTED poster, with your face. You thought for sure this disguise would get you all the way back to a port, where you could catch a ship, retire, and live like a king in Patagonia.

The crowd is getting riled up, and if they get too close, somebody will see that poster. You hop in the wagon and scamper right out of that town with your tail between your legs. Maybe you should look into homesteading...

I was delighted with how all of this turned out, but especially these photos of Tristan. He is such the best, most precious boy. I'm doing most of these in the guest room now, and he's so eager to go in there and grab things to pose for...

Well, he doesn't understand the camera, but he understands sitting still (difficult!) and holding stuff (fun!) and looking at me, and it makes him wriggle-wag with anticipation and too much excitement for one little cocker body to contain.

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I keep trying to get pictures to show how interesting Tristan's coat is; the white is wavy and flatter (and oh-so-silky) and the black is curly and thicker and poofier (and so soft and wooly), and where they come together it makes funny dips and overlays.

But when I try to take pictures of his back, Tris turns around, licks the camera, and then POSES. I kid you not. Look at him being all still and pretty for the camera, waiting for me to tell him how good he is. (I told him he was Very Good.)

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