Lies and Dog training

Very soon after getting Pepper, we enrolled in a six week puppy training class at the local pet store.  Pepper learned to sit, walk without pulling on the leash, shake, and other life skills important for any dog.

This month we signed up for the intermediate class. Different group of doggies, but once again, Pepper is the teacher's pet (in the words of the teacher).

There are stories to tell about doggie class, but I wanted to tell today about my first, failed effort at dog training long, long ago in Ohio...

At the time, my family lived in Montpelier; a small town in the upper northwest corner. I was about Anna's age, ten. We had a dachshund puppy named Ardy (or Arthur Hamilton when he was in trouble), and I signed up to do dog training through 4-H. It was to involve a small group of kids training their dogs and occasional 4-H group meetings with all the kids of our age doing 4-H projects. The regular 4-H meetings involved cookies and Kool-Aid.

Unfortunately, the dog training group was cancelled due to lack of interest. But, I loved the meetings with the cookies and Kool-Aid. This was the beginning of my descent into a scandalous cover-up. To go to the meetings, you had to be involved in a project. Nothing on the project  list looked interesting to me, so I signed up for embroidery.

Unfortunately, I knew nothing about embroidery. And knew no one who did. So, I blithely continued attending the Kool-Aid meetings while stringing the first string in my web of lies. When asked how my project was going, I would proclaim that it was coming along swimmingly (or more likely, mumble, "Fine," in between sips of Kool-Aid and mouthfuls of cookie).

This became increasingly problematic as the dates of the 4-H fair loomed ahead where our projects were exhibited for the community to see.

Our group met up during the dates of the fair and my leader asked me about my non-existent project. You see, she hadn't been able to locate it. So, now I had to either 'fess up or describe a non-existent embroidery project.

So, what did I do?

Well, I, um, described it. My non-existent embroidery project was apparently a picture of a house.  I never did come clean.  And I totally get how things like Watergate spin out of control.