Anyone who shares life with a Goldendoodle knows that these beautiful, fun creatures are eager to please their best friends-their people.
Ivy is attached me like Velcro. Anywhere I go in the house is where she comes. We sleep together-OK, I’m now a widowed senior citizen, and quite frankly, I’d rather sleep with my dog. A doodle would settle for nothing less. She has her U. Wyoming t-shirt on the bed, courtesy of a celestial Earl, and when I gave her her own pillow, a real one, she was in doodle heaven.
During this very intense and tense times, I am hunkered down with my dog. I’m shut down. I even had groceries delivered. I no longer have to take Ivy to a dog park to launch the Chuck-it balls, as there are three areas right here in the ‘hood safe from traffic.
Ivy, as most doodles do, get into what I call the “Doodle Position.” Others may call it the road kill position. She will lie on her back, hindlimb wide apart, vital organs exposed, with front limbs flexed, and her head twisted to one side (sometimes called torticolis in rabbits.) This never fails to delight me. I decided to have her learn to do the position “on command.” Uh huh…
Every time Ivy is in the full doodle position, I laugh and praise her and rub her entire ventrum. “Good girl, Ivy! That is so good! The doodle position!”
I started to push on her back when she just had her hindlimbs in position for a tummy rub. I would say, “Doodle Position”! She now has it down, mostly; but she’s a fast learner, knows how much she pleases me, and doodles only want to please.
I woke up at 3 this morning to take my am meds. I usually go back to sleep listening to the radio. I was too jazzed, and only have pool PT today, so I turned on the TV to watch Morning Joe, which I love, but don’t wake up at 4 am usually. I was too busy thinking about what style I want use to write my next book. I have been stagnant other than going out with Ivy.
There she was on the bed. I swear I say to her just like I did with Earl, “Ivy, move.” And she does. The hindlimb were apart waiting for a tummy rub, so I pushed the doodle button, and lo and behold, she did it! Ad another trick to our non-traveling animal act. What a kick she is for me when she came to me at the lowest point in my life, bringing holding, hugging, and crawling out of the room if I need to file a broken fingernail. Ivy is my wonderful, delightful pride and joy.