It’s a word I’ve heard a great deal of in the time I’ve been here. No, as in “No, Rusty, no!”
I’m not exactly sure why, either, since I consider my activities quite reasonable and very predictable for a puppy. I chew a little, sure, but so far, other than a few laces, nothing other than what’s meant for me to chew. I bark some, I play – but isn’t that what people like about us puppies? I know I tend to nibble some when I’m playing with Em, but I can’t help that, and besides, he lets me so why should I stop? And, my timing can be poor – like when I want to play during the news or in the quiet part of a movie – but what am I gonna do? A puppy’s got to do what a puppy’s got to do. It’s all right here, in the job description.
Gampa is the latest to basically say no. I was playing with him last night by biting him on his ankle when all of a sudden he pulled a ‘Sidney’ on me – he turned around, hauled off, and slapped me one – pow, right in the kisser! I saw red, believe me. Old man or not, I attacked – which, of course, led to President Sidney (of the SPCSA) and Gampa beating the crap out of me and reinforcing once again their idea of what the word ‘no’ really means. It’s hard to argue with those guys.
For me, no is a tough word to hear. Maybe in time I’ll hear it less often.
I guess that’s up to me.