Why do I do what I do?

You know, for a young pup, I think I am a fairly smart fellow.  I have learned many words: sit, lay down, upstairs, downstairs, up, bed, bath, food, bone, baby, potty, poo poo, outside, time out, momma's-going-to-work, WHAT-ARE-YOU-DOING? and...bad dog.  Sort of wish I didn't know that last one.

But, to be fair, sometimes I might possibly deserve it.  Maybe not the way Myrtle can holler at me, but still, I keep finding myself doing things that I know are wrong.  I just cannot help myself.

Like, well, where to do my business.  I guess it makes sense that I should go outside.  And day after day after day will pass without any problems.  Then a day (or even two or three) will come when I somehow fail to remember everything I have learned.  And I hear a lot of "bad dog."

The thing is, I know I have done wrong.  I poop on the floor and run and hide, because I know what is coming.  I poop on the floor and try to slink away without notice.  Inexplicably, I even poop on the floor right at Myrtle's feet! Why?

The other really strange thing I find myself doing is starting off right, but then somehow losing my way.  I will ask Myrtle to take me outside.  She will take me outside. And then...well...I don't do anything.  In my defense, I will say there are tons of terrors outside: the Fearsome Beast, wet grass, barking dogs, machinery, cars, lights, fireworks, people talking, rain, lightening, thunder, frolicking children, frost...the list is never ending. It is hard for me to brave my fears and concentrate on the task at hand.  Myrtle will give up after a half hour or so and let me back inside.  Then, before I can stop myself, when her back is turned, I ended up doing that wrong thing again.  Why?

I went three weeks, three whole weeks with no mistakes.  Now, not so much.  So, why in the world do I keep making mistakes?  Why do I continue to do the things I know are wrong?

Yesterday, I sort of hit a low point with my puppy momma: I pooped on the stairs.  In my way of thinking, I did not poop upstairs, nor did I poop downstairs.  Myrtle has actually never mentioned the stairs to me.

I like being with Myrtle.  I like snuggling with her and playing with her and just hanging out with her.  If I make mistakes, though, I don't get to be with her. I am left all alone in the kitchen to contemplate my choices.  I don't even get credit when I start to make the right choice but fail to follow through.  I want to be with her more than anything in the world.  I really, really do.  So...

Why do I do what I do?


This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off!