Reboot the “Rhode” scholar
February 25th, 2006 by Jess StrattonReboot is finally earning those biscuits.
Her first foray into Canine Good Citizenship is to participate volunteering in the “Reading With Rover” after school programs in a nearby school. Every week, her and I go to the school, and little girls and boys take turns petting her while the others read to her.
We’ve been having fun so far, the worst that’s happened so far is that Reboot was put in a classroom that was learning about balls; footballs, soccer balls, and tennis balls all over the place, and a very short leash! She’s also wet-willied a few kids, she’s good at sneak-attack kisses, and, well, she loves people. What can you do?
Most of our friends can attest to the way we treat Reboot. She’s her own little person, basically. And she understands. One look in her eyes can display a level of understanding that can’t be described.
There’s only one problem that arises when you talk to your dog on a regular basis like a regular person - the dog gains the same vocabulary as a regular person, which, in Reboot terms, can really come back to bite you in the ass sometimes.
The only way that Matt and I have found to overcome and circumvent this particular quandary is to partake in attempts to confound her.
That is, speak in really big words so she doesn’t understand what we’re really saying.
To the untrained eye, Matt and I could appear to have a large vocabulary while we patter around the house on a daily basis. We’re not trying to be pretentious. We’re not trying to better ourselves for the good of humanity. Our cause isn’t even as noble as trying to finish the New York Times Sunday crossword. They’d have to realize it’s simply a matter of trying to outwit the dog.
“That was really good. Should I give her a special treat for that?” becomes “The trick was performed exemplarily! Would the pronounless canine be obliged to receive a confectionary-enjoyment mechanism?”
Of course, this verbal trickery can only last so long until she’s so smart that she’s quietly curing cancer in the basement or we’ve simply run out of words in our pocket thesauri. Ad interim, we can perdure for the interregnum.

