From the Treetops

Every movement toward the garage now means a few tosses of the ball. Salesmen call this the assumptive close. Would you like your new freezer delivered on Monday or Tuesday? Would you rather have a blue or a green SUV? The closing question assumes the sale.

Sassy assumes I go to the garage to toss her ball. I can take out the garbage or pick up the paper, but she waits around with that big goofy grin, waiting for me to wise up and throw her ball.

The other day I tossed her ball into the street (only when it is safe) and saw her lope off to get it. Two men were cutting down a tree. The one on the street caught her ball and tossed it back for Sassy to fetch. From the top of the tree, his co-worker said, "That's quite a pooch you have."

Now kids are calling her the tripod dog. They know Sassy by name. Sassy loves the attention and charms everyone. One day she saw two boys get out of their family car, across the street. Sassy planted her front feet and did her best German Shepherd baying. Then she ran full-speed at them to be friends. One boy looked like he was facing his death, but I shouted that she was just trying to be friendly. Sure, it was an odd way to say hello, but Sassy can switch from guard dog to lapdog in a flash.

Sassy's new trick is tapping. She uses her front paw more like a hand. She does a tap, tap on my shoulder to get attention. When I turn, she is grinning. We are getting used to her big vocabulary. She has words to express many different emotions. She tells on her fur-sisters when they are eating food she wants. She moans and burbles in the oddest way when going outside to the park - her happiest moments. If she is hungry, she works up one big bark.