DO DOGS KNOW WHAT IS RIGHT AND WHAT IS WRONG?

Do dogs know what is right and what is wrong?

Definitely!

Photos and videos  of them caught red-pawed* after digging through the trash or tearing papers speak volumes about their moral compass.

Of course, most of those mischievous guys have been taught the Behave Yourself basics, and they know that shredding the mail or emptying the garbage bin on the floor is a definite no-no. That's why they play it a little guilty when their owners find out what has been going on while they were away.

Yet, I do think that some dogs have an innate sense of what is right and what is wrong.

Some years ago, I shared my life with two shelter dogs who never rocked the boat, except once, and what happened that day really gave me food for thought.

I had been to the supermarket, and when I came back home, of course my two doggies granted me an over-the-top greeting, you know, that kind of cheers that makes you feel like Marco Polo coming back from China with silk, spices and precious gems. Quite boosting and comforting when you are just back from the nearby shop with the most common household stuff!

So, I put down my shopping bags, and took a cuddling and petting break with my two die-hard fans.

Then, for fear the frozen foods would start defrosting, I left my two 'sled dogs', and went to the kitchen to store my 'shopping hunt' into my igloo, aka my freezer (my inner explorer is craving for an expedition to the North Pole).

Suddenly I realized there was something wrong with Charlie.

He kept racing in and out of the kitchen, stopping dead sometimes to stare at me imploringly.

Well, quite sure I would have to give up my Artic dream, and take Charlie on a 'business trip', you see what I mean : leash, poo bags, and ages spent exploring the same blade of grass. Neither adventurous, nor glamorous, but such is life with dogs.

So, I finished putting away my things, and followed " Pushy Charlie " to the entrance door.

That's where I discovered what his zoomings in and out of the kitchen meant...

I had left the pack of dog dry food near the door, and Indy had managed to tear it, and she was giving herself a treat on the sly.

I scolded her and sent her to the corner, I mean to her basket. 

She pretended to be sorry, but once curled up in her shelter, she looked at Charlie defiantly and growled as if saying " stealing is wrong, ok, but telling on somebody is wrong, too! Justice for all dogs!! ".

So, what do you think, do dogs know right from wrong, or is it only a matter of education?

* For non dog-speaking readers, to be caught red-pawed means to be caught red-handed.

SLEEP DISORDERS : HOW I DEAL WITH THEM

Here in France, Daylight Saving Time starts tomorrow, which means sunset and sunrise will be one hour later.

The good thing? There will be more light in the evening.

The bad one? One hour sleep less, and losing an hour in Spring often leaves us drowsy and in search of the miracle recipe to get some beauty sleep.

To make sure you don't spend restless nights, tossing and turning in bed, with your mind racing and making mountains out of molehillls, here are a few tips I have tested for you.

They may not give you a better sleep, but they will help you look on the bright side of things, and keep smiling throughout the night.

Avoid big meals at night : last time I tried to eat earlier and healthier, at midnight, I had to head for the kitchen to grab some cookies. Half a yummy packet later, I was feeling better and ready to polish off a bowl of nuts. Then, a mixture of guilt-cotaed tongue kept me awake till dawn,so...

Drink some herbal tea after dinner : chamomile or passion flowers are anything but soothing beverages for me, cause, if travel broadens the mind, nightime trips to the bathroom narrow my sleep expectations seriously!

Once in bed, avoid bright light : wise tip, but dim light gives me a good opportunity to test my skills at making funny hand shadow puppets on the walls of my bedroom. I am better and better at that game, but worse and worse at playing the Sleeping Beauty waiting for Prince Charming, aka Dearhubby , to wake me.

Count sheep : easier aid than done. The word  'sheep' is invariable, so quite frustrating not to make the difference between one and dozens! And on top of that, I have never been good at calculus, so after a while it's a complete shambles, and I usually resign from my shepherd's temp job.

Read a book, but nothing exciting : to stack all odds in my favour, once I decided to read again the fairy tale ' Goldilock and The Three Bears ', and you know what?

Two hours later, I woke up in a sweat. I had dreamt there were three bears in my garden and I coudn't go out!

So I guess now you realize you can't count on me to get foolproof tips and tricks to better sleep.

Oops, are you still awake, or have you fallen into a slumber due my chitchat?

Anyway, I hope that tonight you'll sleep like a baby.

                  Lullaby, and good night

                 In the sky stars are bright

                 Close your eyes, start to yawn

                 Pleasant dreams until the dawn

                 .....

                 

                     (Brahms's Lullaby)

         

               

DOGS ARE BETTER THAN MEN, EXCEPT WHEN...

Are dogs better than men?

Even if you are not a dogaholic, you know they are!

Loyal, caring, easy-going, cheerful, playful,and so on. Actually, any praiseful adjective suits them, whereas for men... well, that's another story.

Yet, when it comes to politeness, things are quite different.

Don't get me wrong, dogs have manners.

They never fail to greet their owners with open paws, sometimes a bit too loudly, but who would refuse to be cheered to the echo?

They always eat their meals, as if you were a culinary genius. Quite comforting for a hopeless cook like me.

Whatever your look, they always drool over you, as if you were the eighth wonder of the world. Let me tell you that when you come back from the hairdresser with a weird hairstyle, or from the shop ,bulging out of brand new trousers, their eyes filled with admiration really cheer you up!

Yet, there is a limit to their politeness, and that limit is called 'boredom'.

Yes, guys, when dogs get bored, they forget their good manners, and it doesn't take them long to overstep the mark.

Just when left alone? Not at all!

Even when they are with their owners, they can get fed up, too, and show it quite cheekily.

For example, being stuck in a conversation of which they can't catch a single woof is for most of them dull, and far too long.

What happens then?

Well, the most courteous dogs usually lie down, and take forty winks.

Unfortunately, those well-behaved dogs can be counted on the fingers of one hand, and I have never had the privilege of sharing my life with any of them.

Charly, the first shelter dog I adopted, was a real gentledog. He knew the Knights Code of Chivalry, and was honest, respectful and always ready to help (especially to unpack shopping bags or clean  the dishes).

But to be up to his moral values, he needed a beauty sleep, and stuck to the principle that one hour's sleep before midnight is worth two after.

So, to put an end to dinner parties too long to his taste, he used to sneak under the table, and fart near each of our guests, till they left, fearing a gas leak in the building!

Awfully vulgar and embarrassing, but maybe that's the kind of things  French shelter dogs do when they get bored.

I'm sure you've heard about French President Macron's shelter dog  who peed in the fireplace during a meeting which was perhaps too long and boring to his taste.

No?

Well, here is the video.It's just fun!! I never get tired of watching it!

https://mashable.com/2017/10/23/french-president-macron-dog-nemo-pee/#Zy.vvmyM8sq7

SHOULD ROUTINES BE STRICT OR FLEXIBLE?

Should routines be strict or flexible?

Well, after what happened to me last Thursday, I really don't know.

Let me walk you through it.

My pen name is Dany the Perky Busy Bee, but actually Sidetracked Dany would have suited me better.

You see, I'm a die-hard fan of to-do lists, but the only snag is that by the end of the day , most of the time, I  realize that the journey through doing to done has taken the scenic road, messed up my schedule, and left no track of my early morning plans!

That's why, if I want to keep consistent in blogging, I really need to stick to a kind of routine.

So, every morning, as soon as my feet hit the floor, I go on automatic pilot.

A quick shower, a hearty breakfast (Greedy Dany is always on time), and then off for my daily air bath with Ulysse, my four-legged coach.

On our way, we never fail to pay a short visit to an old neighbour of mine, just to check everything is ok with her.

Then, once back home, I can start mapping out my next posts quietly.

A foolproof routine to avoid wearing out my jammies, sinking into my cup of tchaï tea and remembering " A Passage to India ", or simply getting lost in wishful thinking crammed with " I'm going to ".

But, last Thursday when I woke up, there was a thin layer of ice-patch in the garden alley, and as I am hopeless at figure skating, I decided to delay my morning walk by one our, time for the sun to turn up (when it comes to the weather, Breton people are always optimistic).

After all, Ulysse could frolic a little bit more than usual in the garden, a good way to warm up before our daily exercise.

So, there I was, sitting at my desk, jotting down some ideas for my blog, when I received a phone-call from my old neighbour.

She sounded fit, but urged me in a muffled voice to come to her place, cause she had let somebody in, and now the guy didn't want to get out, and she didn't know what to do!

OMG, how many times had I warned her not to open her door to a stranger?

If only she had listened to me!

Too late!  If if and buts were candy and nuts, wouldn't it be a merry Christmas?

I slipped into my coat and ran to my neighbour's.

Ten minutes later I broke into her place, panting but ready to  let rip at the intruder!

He was standing close to her, and in his bright dark eyes I could see determination and self-satisfaction!

That guy really had a nerve, and it was high time to show him who ruled the roost!

Chin up!

But before I had a chance to say one word, he rushed to me and...pawed my leg, as if saying " I'm sorry, but you know, our daily visit to that sweet lady is always scheduled at 10. I didn't want her to worry, so I walked all the way to her place by myself, cause punctuality is the politeness of kings, and ...of dogs, as well! ".

Jeez, because of my damned morning routine, Ulysse could have been knocked down by a car, or even worse, dognapped!!

That's why now I really wonder if too strict routines can be bad.

What do you think?