As some of you may remember, Her Highness (Pixie), was diagnosed with a compressed disk several weeks ago. You can read more about that here. Thankfully, she's doing much better. She's definitely back to her old self, and to that point, we get to today's topic.
While she was convalescing, we were given strict instructions to ensure she didn't run too much, play too hard, walk up and down stairs unaided, or jump on and off the couch. Since she finished her month of compulsory convalescence, everything is back to normal. Well, almost everything is back to normal.
After she was well enough to resume most of her old activities, I made the executive decision that she should no longer jump on and off the couch unaided. She's part Jack Russell and hip or back trouble is common for these dogs in their elderly years. We don't have stairs for her to use yet so this means we have to help her by gently picking her up and placing her on the couch or placing her on the floor. This has gone over about as well as that new Coca Cola formula did in the 80s. She's not amused.
For weeks now, Pixie and I have been battling it out over jumping on the couch. Have I mentioned how fiercely independent she is? Over-taxed American colonists have nothing on Pixie's fierce determination. In fact, I'd wager that if she had been at the helm, leading the Americans in battle, Britain would have signaled defeat much sooner than they did. But I digress.
About half the time, I'm successful in my attempts to keep her from jumping on or off the couch. The other half, well, she wins. She's taken any means necessary to circumvent my awaiting arms, even if that means running into another room to avoid the situation altogether, but her best attempt to beat me at my own game came the afternoon that I caught her in mid-flight like a football.
She was standing 2-3 feet away from the couch and as I bent down to pick her up, she leaped into the air and right into my arms. Catching her must have been as much of a shock to her as it was to me because 
With that one event, I thought I had broken her. I thought I'd won and there would be no further questions about this couch issue. I was wrong! Just this afternoon she stared me dead in the eye as she jumped onto the opposite end of the couch. Who knew 18 pounds of fur could be so obstinate!
Not that face right?
