Yesterday, a tiny event occurred. Nothing Earth-shattering. Nothing remarkable outside the bizarro kitchen of our little house. In the eyes of anyone but myself and Monkey, it was a simple act, repeated seven times.
When I got home from work, I put the handles back on the cabinets and drawers. I had removed them within minutes of Parker's arrival in our home, since he immediately found them irresistible to gnaw on. Knowing he was going to spend a lengthy period of each day in the kitchen, and knowing that he would be at a height at which those handles would be a grave temptation for a length of weeks or months, I thought it prudent to remove them.
Lately, I have noticed Parker, as he ages his way through his eleventh week on Earth (so short, really), display a growing amount of maturity. Granted, he is still plenty puppy and will most likely be for years to come, but he is definitely a more reasonable dog now than he was just last week. So, I thought I would put the handles back on and see what developed.
When he noticed the handles, he went over to the under-the-sink cabinet (which he is fond of--he must like the smell of Bon Ami) and sniffed the handle on one of the doors. He tentatively mouthed it, but immediately withdrew after a stern, "No." He did not try to chew them again that evening. I was ecstatic.
So, while the pedantic twisting of a metal knob onto a cabinet door may seem like nothing but the turning of a wrist, for us, last night, we were ratcheting up the stakes on a puppy assessment. And, our little puppy demonstrated nearly exceptional proficiency.
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