It was a dark and stormy night. The kind of night perfect for reading, cuddling, and gnawing on a bone while rolling around a warm and fuzzy rug. Joanne sat on her reading chair, well, reading, when she slowly began to realize that she was being watched. She lifted her gaze to that familiar spot in the room, where Richie stood staring at her.
As if on cue, the dog sat down, and looked away. "Silly dog," Joanne muttered, half to herself, and continued on her adventure with Huckleberry Finn.
About two sentences and half a paragraph later, that feeling was back. Again, she felt watched. She looked up, and Richie immediately looked away. But he wasn't just looking away.
He was looking at something.
"What?" Joanne asked, as she followed his gaze and saw the bone that sat on the shelf, way beyond Richie's reach. She looked back at Richie.
He got up, turned two circles on the spot, sat back down, and gave Joanne a doggie-smile*. Joanne raised her eyebrows. "Why?"
Richie pulled his ears back and opened his eyes real wide, turned his head to look at the bone on the shelf, and finally, turned back to look at Joanne.
"Oh!" Immediately, she got off her seat, took the bone, gave it to the dog, and headed back over to continue reading.
Richie thought to himself, as he happily placed himself on the warm and fuzzy rug and started to chew on his bone, "I've trained my human well."
*doggie-smile: when dogs stick their tongues way out of their mouth and have a happy, glazed-over look in their eyes.