Oreo is a Punk

My dog is a brat. You all knew this, but some of you like hearing about his brattiness and really, this was hilarious.

We just got up and first thing is always to take him out because he's getting older and the bladder, it gets full and hard to control after lots of sleep.

So, I toss on my jacket over my jammies and we go out the front door of the apartment, which leads to a sort of breezeway down the center of the building. One way goes to the parking lot, the other goes to the little patch of woods that our patio faces. We usually go toward the woods because it's more potty-friendly and closer.

So, he hops down off the cement to the woods, pees, and then makes a bee-line for our patio. And hops up on it. And goes to the sliding door. And then looks at me like I'm stupid.

And I (because I've given up seeming normal in public) say out loud:  "I can't let you in that door, it's locked." And I try to coax him off the porch and back to the front door. Nuh-uh. Will not move.

Finally, I pinned his leash under the chair on the patio, went in the front door, and opened the sliding glass door. Oreo trotted right in and waited for me to take off his harness and give him his treat.

I am very well trained.