Best Dog On The Block

03/04/2026

Think Pawsitive!

02/25/2026

Yes! Teaching a puppy to sit is super easy and most puppies think it’s fun to learn new things. Requiring an adult dog to sit on command for no reason is different. It makes sense to teach a dog not to run into traffic, but it isn’t necessary to require the dog to sit at intersections. As long as they wait by your side, you can let them choose the position that’s most comfortable for them.

QUITTING SO MUCH SITTING
Why are we so focused on making our dogs sit for everything?

Maybe because it’s believed that dogs that sit on cue are obedient, well mannered, calm, self-controlled and that sitting is incompatible with an unwanted behaviour. Maybe because we think it looks impressive and allows us to look like we have control.

But is it all really necessary, or more importantly, in the best interests of our dogs, both physically and emotionally in expecting them to sit so much?

Sometimes what we have always been led to believe is not always what’s best for our dogs. As we continue to learn through modern updated methods and ongoing education, our methods and beliefs need to change accordingly.

“Sit” is usually one of the first thing puppies are taught. Just one session at puppy school may include up to 20 or more “sits” - that’s a really high intensity workout for a dog at any age, but puppies in the growing stages are particularly at risk.

These sitting repetitions put excessive pressure on the developing skeletal system which may lead to damage or injury that may only become apparent at an older age.

Senior dogs may find it really painful to sit down and then get back up. Sitting puts pressure on the lower back, hips and supporting muscles. Certain breeds are just not anatomically designed to repeatedly sit.

Asking a fearful or reactive dog to sit in the presence of whatever is triggering that emotion is probably the worst thing to do. The belief that sitting will magically create calmness and stop the negative emotion does not make any logical sense.

There is nothing wrong with teaching our dogs to sit and occasionally asking for sits in certain situations, but look at teaching more natural, alternative behaviours, that are just as effective.

The wise words of Turid Rugaas – “If you yourself want to sit, sit! If you want your dog to sit, think twice!”

For more information on this particular subject, here are some links –

Should we ask our dogs to sit?
https://blog.bharcs.com/2021/03/06/should-we-ask-our-dogs-to-sit/

When, where and how do dogs sit? – by Turid Rugaas
http://www.turid-rugaas.no/sit.html

02/23/2026

Last night, Dad let me outside for five minutes.

FIVE. Whole. Minutes.

In that time, I caught a tiny mouse and shoved it in my mouth—because I am an apex predator with the impulse control of a toddler.

Dad, oblivious as ever, let me back in without checking my mouth.

Rookie. Move.

Fast forward: Mom and Dad are in bed. The lights are off. The house is quiet. Peaceful. Serene.

And then there’s me.

Pounding the mattress with my massive horse hooves, demanding entry like I pay the mortgage. I’m huffing. Snorting. Dramatically sighing. Because clearly, I am the victim here.

After some grumbling and a very tired “Oh my god, just let him up,” they finally lift the covers.

I was cold, okay? Freezing. Traumatized by the 42 seconds of outdoor wilderness. So I slid under the covers by their feet like a sneaky, oversized burrito of chaos.

Now this is where the universe decided we needed character development.

The mouse—clearly fed up with my nonsense and lack of planning—starts tickling the inside of my mouth.

And I’m like…
“…excuse me?”

I open just enough.
Just a tiny crack.

And that little criminal launches himself into freedom.

Chaos. Under. The. Covers.

Can you imagine me — Zeus, King of the House — unleashing my royal athleticism inside a blanket cocoon?

It’s like a washing machine cycle set to “panic.”

Blankets flying.
Paws flailing.
Tail windmilling at 200 mph.

The mouse darts across Mom’s foot.

She instantly knows.

That wasn’t fabric.
That wasn’t imagination.
That was a tiny pair of disrespectful feet.

Her scream?
Glass-shattering.
Car-alarm triggering.
Possibly heard in three neighboring postal codes.

She’s yelling, “I’M BURNING THIS PLACE TO THE GROUND!” like we’re on an episode of Extreme Overreactions: Midnight Edition.

Meanwhile, I’m still under the blankets doing what can only be described as interpretive dance mixed with combat training. I can’t find the exit. I’m tangled in sheets. I look like a possessed marshmallow.

The mouse makes a second run.

Across. Her. Foot.
Again.

Mom launches out of bed like she just activated turbo mode. Adrenaline at 10,000%. She hasn’t moved that fast since someone said “50% off at Costco.”

She’s now armed with a Birkenstock and a lamp.

A. Lamp.

She’s yelling, “FINISH HIM!” like we just entered Mortal Kombat: Rodent Edition.

Dad is in the middle of the room trying to:

Calm Mom down.
Untangle my giant fluffy backside from the fitted sheet.
Process how his five-minute decision destroyed the entire household.

He’s half whispering, half yelling, “It’s just a mouse!” while also climbing on furniture like the floor is lava.

At one point I’m wrapped in the comforter like a dramatic Victorian ghost, spinning in circles because I STILL THINK I’M HUNTING.

The mouse?
Gone.
Vanished.

Probably in the walls writing a Yelp review about our house.

Long story short:

The mouse is nowhere to be found.
Mom is now sleeping in her car.
Windows cracked. Engine off. Emotionally done.

She’s probably Googling:

“How to get rid of a husband AND a dog.”

“Can you return a pet after 5 years?”

“Is arson covered by insurance?”

Dad?

Banned from bedtime snack duties.
Demoted to Official Mouse Patrol.

Currently checking corners with a flashlight like he’s in a low-budget horror film.

And me?
I’ll be back in bed tonight.

Because I fear nothing.
Learn nothing.
Regret absolutely nothing.

Plotting my next great adventure.

Maybe the neighbor’s hamster.
Maybe the squirrel who taunts me every morning.
Or maybe… I’ll just bring in a frog next time.

You know.
Something that jumps.
Something unpredictable.
Something that disappears mid-scream and reappears on the ceiling.

Let’s really test the structural integrity of this marriage.

Dad can practice his flashlight skills.

Mom can upgrade from Birkenstock to combat boots.

And me?
I’ll be under the covers again.

Innocent.
Cold.
Just a baby.

With absolutely no idea how that frog got there.
🐸😂🐶

09/28/2025

09/28/2025

09/23/2025

09/21/2025

🔥🔥To my fellow smol doggos:
Are you tired of getting “shorted” by your United Puppy Snacks driver?
Are you sick of being forced to scurry about for the crumbs that fall from the mouths of the large doggos who seem to get all of the treats?
My name is Cupcake. I am the official mascot of Bells Up Winery in Newberg, Oregon and I am here to show all you smol doggos how to use your petite size to take your biscuit extraction hustle to the next level and reclaim that which is rightfully yours. Stop settling for less!
Maximizing your biscuit yield is a simple, comprehensive four-step process which involves Visualization, Vocalization, Levitation and Location. Let’s break them down.

1-Visualization: If you’ve got it, flaunt it! Put that cuteness and big floofer hair to work! Wiggle that butt, dance on those hind legs, and use your agility and footwork to make yourself irresistible. Be the queen that you were meant to be, and the driver will be putty in your paws!
2-Vocalization: Use your shrill, incessant, high-pitched yipping bark to beat your drivers eardrums into submission. What you lack in size, you make up for in VOLUME. If your driver is desperate enough, he will want to gag you to hush you up. Let him gag you with a biscuit!
3-Levitation: My driver Scott Hodges knows that he cant start the engine if I am in the drivers seat, and he cant drive away if I am perched on the dashboard. Its MY truck, he just drives it, and if he gets stingy with my biscuits I have no problem with parking myself in his way until he gets so desperate that he tosses a handful of treats out the door in order to get me to leave!
4-Location: All UPS drivers have a stash. It might be biscuits or it might be their own lunch. You dont care either way. Use your smol size, agility and keen nose to locate and access that stash, no matter what tiny nook or cranny your driver may have hidden it in. If you find the biscuits...help yourself. If you find his lunch...help yourself. If he goes hungry because he was too cheap to buy biscuits...better him than you! His hunger will motivate him to make better choices in the future and remind him of the simple fact that, though you may be smol in size, when it comes to the biscuits you are LARGE and IN CHARGE!



!

08/19/2025

08/19/2025