Not the gifted program

We own an Australian Cattle Dog.  Dogs that are known for their IQ's, if you will. This dog, is an Australian Cattle Dog.  Impressive. Smart.  Trained.

Our dog?  Well, let me put it to you this way.  Our back sliding door went off it's track today, and since it's miserable weather I didn't feel like going outside to try to fix it.  So I let the dog out the front door.  He pees, then goes off for a few minutes to do his thing.  I wait.  Then I call him.  Nothing. Whistle.  No dog. I know he hasn't gone off because there's no exit from the back yard, I would have seen him had he tried to take a walk about the neighborhood.  So I'm calling and calling.  Until something finally occurs to me.  I go back inside, upstairs to the sliding door, move the curtain, turn on the deck light, and see - the dog.  Looking at me as if I'm the moron.

I had to put my boots and coat on and walk all the way around the house to the back yard, where he's looking down at me from the deck all like, "Hey! are you coming to play with me?"  I finally get him to come down the stairs and then he runs ahead, tail all wagging...to the front door. 

Let's just say, he's not going to be winning the grand prize on "Pet Star" anytime soon.