I posted a couple of weeks ago that I have started playing in our community band. It's been fun going to rehearsals and learning Christmas music. And, since French horns are a "Christmas-y" sort of instrument, the pieces we are playing have some pretty (but difficult and exposed) horn parts.
So I have been practicing. You know, filling the house with "joyful noises."
Well, the noise apparently doesn't bring joy to my little dog, Zac.
When I get my horn out to practice, he begins skulking around, low to the ground, never taking his eyes off of it. When I blow air through the mouthpiece (which isn't making a sound except air) he gets more concerned, as if something might be hissing at him. When I start playing, that does it. He begins barking and then rushing at me like he's going to defend me from the Great Honking Beast that seems to be attacking my face. Then he scuttles backwards like "On second thought, I'm not going near that thing. You're on your own, Mom!" He remains concerned, agitated and ever-vigilant the entire time I'm practicing. He doesn't settle down until The Beast is put back in its case and his short attention span allows him to scoot off to do something else, like perhaps guard us from any cars that might be driving down the street.
He's never been fully housetrained, no matter how hard we've tried. Bless his heart, he has little accidents every few weeks for which he is properly remorseful and seems to be genuinely sorry. (No really, you should see his face!) Usually his accidents (whether #1 or #2) seem to be wherever he happens to be at the time. There's never a certain place that they happen.
Until this week.
Twice this week, right next to my French horn case in the corner of the dining room, I've found a... well, you know. Deposit. The kind that would show the most disrespect, if-you-know-what-I-mean. RIGHT there next to it, as if he had to position himself just so to get it there. And he hasn't acted sorry at all.
Hmph. I guess I know what he thinks of my music!