I been tryin’ remember what you gonna call that thing I use atta end of my last blog, that thing Cooper shown me. I ain’t finish what I wanna write, just left it inna middle. It’s a cliff-somethin’. I tried lookin’ it up onna internet, but “cliff an’ writing” just given me lotsa weird things, like “cliffnotes” (whassat? summaries of things other people written?) or a couple writing center places. I ain’t find too much. I’da asked Vega for help, but she’s out with Nim at Dolli Lane, keepin’ an eye onna Littles.
Anyhow, it’s a cliff-jumper, or a cliff-leaper, or a cliff-glider, or a cliff…biter? Ugh. I don’ wanna ask Cooper or Wren, but I ain’t havin’ much like. Tryin’ t’ be all smarter an’ stuff ain’t much good when you ain’t much smarter yet.
Back to th’ story, tho!
Wren thinks I outta use a leash with Riley. A leash!! Onna poor li’l pup, summin’ she ain’t never used afore, summin’ what’s gonna haul her ’round an yank her neck an’ be all sortsa mean.
I said no. Wren said yes. An’ yes again. An’ again. An’ when Wren’s gotta thought, there ain’t no gettin’ outta it. So maybe I don’ wanna leash Riley an’ turn her inna some normal dog, but Wren’s gonna make it happen. Or else Riley’s gotta go. When she say that, I took the leash. An’, havin’ won, Wren went off, cuz she known I gotta think it over a bit.
It weren’t a nice leash, neither. Rough rope, an’ mean-feelin’ (as much as a rope can feel mean). I held it a bit, an’ looked down atta Riley, an’ wished there was another way t’ make this work. But I couldn’ think of nothin’. ‘Cept I wanna keep Riley with me, so I gotsta train her up.
But maybe this ain’t gonna be so bad’s I think. Maybe Riley’s gonna be a champ atta leash.
With that thought, I knelt down an’ rubbed Riley’s head. She grinned uppa at me some, her tongue floppin’ outta side of she mouth. She’s sucha cute cute pup! I given her a kiss too, then slip leash lock onna ring, an’ we was set.
Was alla good for a bit. Just a li’l bit, tho. Then I said, “C’mon, girl!” an’ tried walkin’ on. On’y Riley forgot she was s’posed to be walkin’ with me, so I gotta leash’s end, an’ she weren’t nowhere near.
In fact, she was tryin’ go the other way, like she thunk she gotta better idea bout where we outta be. I tried whistlin’, an’ callin’ her name, an’ beggin’. Nuthin’ workin’.
Nope. She wasn’t havin’ it. I couldn’ get her t’ budge one inch. Th’ only way she done move even li’l bit was when I haul back so hard onna leash, I slid her onna floor, just haulin’ her along.
It wasn’t one bitta good. An’ Riley was whimperin’ an’ cryin’, cuz she ain’t known nothin’ bout it. An’ alla I wanna do is learn for good how dogs talk, cuz maybe then I’d be able tell her what she gotta do so she can stay with me an’ be my pup.
Inna end, I given up, an scoop Riley inna m’arms an’ cuddle her close. She felt better then. Me too.
I’ll figger somethin’ out. Somehow.