Sit, and Wait

He got up at his usual hour, before dawn. He was feeling a little hungry, so he peeked into the containers that his wife put their snacks in. The snacks were wide and varied. Pretzels, dry cereal, Ritz crackers, chicharrones, etc. The dry cereal collection this week was Golden Grahams and cinnamon flavored Frosted Flakes.

Tryting to be quiet, he opened the container for the Golden Grahams and took a few to nibble on. Not quiet enough. She stood and looked up at him, her tan fur glowing in the dim light from outside. Her big doe eyes was the only thing he could see of her face and knew the snout was angled up in his direction. She wanted a treat.

So, he got one piece of the cereal and closed his fist. Leaning down he said, quietly, "Do you want a treat?" Holding his fist at her level, she moved in and tried to dig her snout into the fist to get the snack. "Sit," he commanded. Her gaze wnt from the fist to his face to the fist again. Her tail started to wag, swishing back and forth. "Sit," he repeated. Finally getting the idea, she backed up to put her haunches on the ground. The tail was still wagging. He waited a moment. She sat and blinked, wagging the tail. He started to open the fist, and she stood and came for it. The fist closed. "No, sit." She sat, and waited. When the fist was fully open, and she saw the cereal, she darted forward, grabbing the treat and ran to her blanket to chew on it. He know she would be back, so he grabbed a few more Golden Grahams.

He remembered a time long ago, when he was a child, that he used to get the munchies in the middle of the night. One week, his mother had gone shopping and bought a family-sized box of Frosted Flakes. He loved that cereal! So, he got up, found the cereal, which was as yet, unopened. He took the box back to the bed, and he ate it all, crunching away. How his brother didn't hear him, nor his parents, he didn't care. Mom was very angy  in the morning.

His mother once claimed that when he was 3, he would climb onto the counter, get into the cupboard and reach up to the booze stash that was stored on a top shelf, pull down a bottle of Southern Comfort and drink straight out of the bottle. He didn't remember that episode, but he supposed that the story of the alcoholic infant was a good party favorite. He liked Southern Comfort too. He did remember when he was 7, when his parents had a big gathering, he would go around, and if their beers were almost empty, he would offer to finish it for them. They didn't mind and gave it to him. Well, when you finish the last bit of, oh, 8 beers or so, you may become intoxicated, and so he was very drunk. He went to bed and passed out, still wearing his clothes. Did this happen more than once? He didn't remember. But, now he hates Coors, which was the beer they were all drinking.

The dog came back a few more times. He did the same process. Hold it in his fist, lean down and ask her to sit. At last, she sat without a command, seeing the fist. So, he kept training her, holding the treat longer and longer to build up her patience as he let her sit, and wait.