Maggie, my big old sheltie, is like a kid. Her toys are scattered all over the house, she fusses until she gets what she wants and there's nothing she likes better than going to Grandma's house.
She is a smart dog, too. If she was kid, I'd have one of those honor roll stickers on the back of my car. But sometimes, I'd be happy if she was a wee bit less intelligent.
Among the things we taught her early on was how to drink from a cup, so we could take her on trips and not worry about a bowl. Well, that's come back to haunt me, like so many other things I've taught her.
This morning, she barked and barked, so I figured she was impatient to go outside. As I stood at the bathroom mirror and told her to wait, we'd go out as soon as I brushed my hair, she stood up on her back legs, snatched the plastic throw-away cup off the sink and threw it at me.
Then she gave me an "Hey, dummy" look to make sure I wanted a drink, not out.
And yeah, I gave her a drink, although it's probably the start of something I'll regret later.
But hey, it was darn cute -- and don't the cutest kids always get what they want?