A few nights ago, I was awakened by a pressure beside me on the bed. I could feel the piercing stare and the warmth radiating from another presence in my bed. Still trying to wake up and get my faculties about me, I could feel the presence just sitting there towering over me. I didn’t move, still pretending to be asleep when I heard a throaty grumble. I continued ignoring the presence and hoping the intruder in my bedroom would go away. The grumbling became more intense, so finally I rolled over to look my 125-pound MastiDane, Jovi, in the eye. She was excited that mommy was now awake. Thinking she probably had to go outside, I walked through the house with my pooch close behind. As I got to the back door, I noticed there was no longer a thud of her big paws hitting the floor behind me. I turned to see where she was, and she had stopped right beside the area where we keep her treats. Apparently, all she wanted was a midnight snack. Now, Jovi is a junk food junkie, so we have to limit her treats. She nags incessantly throughout the day, and instead of telling her no constantly, we moved to the smallest dog biscuit, so we can give her a couple in the morning, a couple in the afternoon and a couple before bed, equaling two of the large dog treats. That particular evening, I had been out late and apparently had forgotten to give Jovi her evening treats. When she woke me in the middle of the night to remind me of this, it was then I realized she was training me. So, did I give her the treats? Not a chance. It would be the equivalent of your well-fed toddler waking you up in the middle of the night for a cookie and reinforcing that behavior by complying. As I went back to bed and she stretched out on the sofa, head on her personal pillow, she was likely thinking:

“I am not spoiled I just happen to be great at training people.”

via somuchpetential.com