I finally decided that living with a puppy is like living in opposite day, a very popular day in elementary school where every word took on its opposite meaning. "Release," a command often given when the puppy is trying to make a meal out of the couch, is interpreted as "bite harder, and maybe add a touch of growl." "No," shouted loudly as he begins to chew a plant that we so carefully added to the garden just weeks before, means "this plant must be the best thing to chew on . . . ever." "Come" means "keep doing whatever I'm doing and definitely ignore that guy over there." "Down" means "rip Megan's pants off and then go for the shoelaces."
It's been tough, but tonight the tables turn. We begin "puppy kindergarten" at a place near our home that actually sells a product called "Happy Tail Ale", a beer designed for dogs. I'm not sure how much discipline can be learned at the only purveyor of dog beer I've ever seen, but we'll give it a shot.