The Trials of a Mentor

My 'Working Holiday' with Fred

Alright, pack, Boomer here!

​Usually, when I head over to Aunty Lee's for a few days rest, I'm expecting the five-star treatment.

I'm talking about prime real estate on the sofa, a strategic position near the biscuit tin, and perhaps a bit of light supervising from the window. You know, the typical "Head of Hounds" retirement-style break.

​But this time? Well, let's just say my "out of office" reply was well and truly ignored.

​Enter Fred

​Now, Fred is a puppy - a bundle of springs and teeth that Aunty Lee looks after for her niece. To look at him, you'd think: "Oh, what a cute little chap." But don't let the floppy ears fool you. Fred is what we in the industry call a "High-Velocity Chaos Merchant.

​From Head of Hounds to Head Nanny

​I hadn't even finished sniffing the hallway rug before I was officially roped into "The Fred Programme."

Aunty Lee gave me that look - you know the one - the "Boomer, you’re so good with them" look.

Suddenly, I wasn't just a guest; I was the Chief Mentor, the Puppy Polisher... well, the Nanny.

​Here's a breakdown of what my "relaxing" break actually looked like:

• Ear-Chewing Etiquette: Apparently, Fred thinks my left ear is a luxury chew toy. I had to patiently explain (with a very sophisticated "grumble-huff") that ears are for listening. Such as the opening of the treat bag, not for soggy puppy gnawing.
• The Art of the Nap: Fred doesn't understand the concept of a "siesta." He has two modes: Full-Throttle Zoomies and Instant Collapse. I spent most of Tuesday teaching him that if a senior dog is dreaming about chasing squirrels, it is not the time to pounce on his tail.
• ​Garden Patrol: I tried to show him how to properly patrol the perimeter. I do it with dignity; Fred does it by tripping over his own paws and getting distracted by a particularly interesting blade of grass. It’s a work in progress, folks.

​The Secret Soft Side

​I'll admit, between the constant "Boomer, play with me!" nudges and the stolen tennis balls, it was exhausting work. But being the Head of Hounds means I’ve got a reputation to uphold. Someone has to show these youngsters the ropes!

​By the second evening, after Fred had finally run out of steam, he curled up right next to my paws. I didn’t move. Not because I couldn't, but because... well, maybe a little bit of that puppy energy is infectious. Just don't tell the others I've gone soft.

​Boomer's Tips for Dealing with "The Freds" of the World:

1. Patience is a Virtue: If they steal your bed, just sit on them. Gently. They’ll get the hint.
2. ​Lead by Example: Show them that sitting nicely gets the gravy bones much faster than jumping like a pogo stick.
3. ​Know When to Retire: When the humans aren't looking, find a high spot. Puppies haven't mastered the "vertical leap" yet.

​I’m back at Pawsies now, and I’ve never appreciated my quiet Bear Cave more.

I think I’ll need at least three days of solid napping to recover from my "holiday."

​Stay pawsome, everyone!

​Boomer
Resident Head of Hounds (and Professional Puppy Sitter)