Here we are at the end of a long road, at times it was rough but we all got through it alive and contented. Swanky is now officially a member of the society of well-behaved dogs and he has a diploma to show all visitors who come to his swanky apartment overlooking New York's coveted Long Beach spread. He no longer humps legs OR arms, knows a handful of commands and their hand signals, is somehow mysteriously a hundred times cuter than the first time we met, and his once bad decisions are turning into better and best decisions.

The last thing to teach him was how to walk on a leash like a sane dog. His previous method was to walk while tripping his owner by weaving to and fro, in a chaotic pattern. We had to use the apartment hallways to practice putting him over on the left side while walking because he'd freeze up in 2.2 seconds if we brought him outside in the beach wind, him with his chicken legs and all. Overall, he seems to enjoy walking, he looks very proud and slightly uncoordinated while doing it, but it looks like he digs it. His Momma will have to reinforce the commands he knows even after graduation, so that he doesn't let all the lessons drift away with other fleeting thoughts of tearing his first baby bed to shreds , and the like.

I don't miss every dog and owner after my teaching stint is over, but these two are a special pair and thinking of Swanky makes me want to go out and get an italian greyhound for myself (even though the rational part of me is reminded that my dog would crack him in half, thinking he was a talking elmo doll). I heart Swanky.

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