This dog is going to kill me yet. I mean it. Or maybe it is just bad kharma. Now, I must admit I've spoiled him rotten. All my other dogs were hightly trained hunting machines. Mr. Baron has the "youngest child spoiled rotten" syndrome.
I trained him to run beside my bike for exercise. So, he cuts in front of me, chasing a pair of rabbits and the ensuing crash leaves me in the emergency room for crash and burn bikers. Then last week I take him fishing-swimming with me and he gets tangled up in my flyline, runs off and puts a fishhook bone deep into my thumb leading to another clinic visit for extraction purposes.
Last night was the coup de grace. We have an invisible fence for his safety. He has the run of the yard. Now he refuses to come when I call him to put him in his kennel. So I have to lure him into the basement so I can drag him up to the garage for his nightly confinement. And then....
And then, holding him by the leash, trying to make sure the cat doesn't get out, I stumble into the darkened garage and smash my shin against the trailer hitch on the back of the pickup. OUCH!!!! There is something about smashing you leg on a trailer hitch that is especially painful. Right up there with a shot to the elbow (crazy bone).
They say German Shephards are especially intelligent and trainable. I wonder about this one. Of course, having Mr Klutz for an owner doesn't seem to helping the situation either. Maybe I should be warming up to Queen B's cat - Simba. At least our interaction so far seems pretty safe.