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Talos doesn't like going outside in the rain. He bangs on the door with his paw, I open the door and he turns tail and runs away from the door. Five minutes later we go through the same routine.

I'm a busy girl, I've got better things to do than play doorman to a wimpy dog who won't go outside.

I come up with a plan. I'm going to outsmart this big baby. I put his collar and leash on. He commences wiggling and prancing. "I'm going somewhere!" (I can read his mind.) I put the coat on him, hoping to buy myself a few seconds to get him all the way out the door before he puts the brakes on.

I take him to the front door.He's never been out that door, ever. Even more exciting, he says! I open the door, rush out as if there's something exciting out there, and of course he follows me. Once I have him outside, he realizes it's raining. Thank goodness I put the coat on him, he notices the rain, but isn't traumatized.

He's so interested, though, in the front yard that it takes him awhile to remember he has to go. Finally he gets it and does his business. Back inside we go, all content and relieved.

After his lunch, he goes to the front door and whacks his paw. I guess he's decided that the front door is the rainy day door, while the back door is the regular, any day door.

Habits form quickly. Make sure you're fostering the good habits, not the bad ones. It's so much easier to create the habit you want. It's hard to get rid of a habit you don't like…

Talos spent all day Wednesday in daycare – his first full day. He's wearing his big-boy pants now, I guess. The daycare folks said he took some naps during the day – so it may take awhile for him to get the hang of the all-day version of doggie daycare. His favorite buddy is still Simon, a little dachshund cross – the tiniest dog in daycare. Go figure.

The dogs left at home were apparently quite pleased with the temporary disappearance of Talos. They spent the morning romping all through the house, running, jumping, tugging, and basically whooping it up without Talos. I guess playing is a lot more fun without the "little brother" tagging along.

The dogs will get two full days a week without the little punk in their hair (literally). It's a win-win-win: Talos gets socialization, the dogs get some "adult dog" time, and I get a little peace and quiet.

If you're a regular Smart Dog Blog reader, here are updates on two recent posts:

I was officially "mummified" last night, much to my delight. I was able to get in two hours earlier than expected and was thrilled to again sleep with the dogs!

The little bird that examined Nemo's tonsils this morning has made a great escape. I didn't see him during our afternoon play session outside.

Nemo’s had a mixed history with the birds in our yard. I’ve always thought he was a friend of the backyard birds, but occasionally they’ll wind up in his mouth. Not alive. I’ve seen him stick his head into a bush to look for them. I tell myself he’s just curious, that he’s not intentionally trying to harm them. But he IS a dog, after all, and dogs DO kill things.

I had no definitive evidence until today. The little yellow finches are late nesters. Their little ones are just leaving the nests about now. While I was refilling the finch feeders, Nemo occupied himself with something in the yard. I looked over to see what he’d found and…you guessed it: it was a baby yellow finch!

I  blurted “Nemie?!” in surprise. He looked at me with a quizzical expression, opened his mouth and deposited the fledgling onto the lawn. A little wet, but unhurt.

Yay, Nemie! You’re NOT a bird killer! You really were just curious! The young bird flew a few feet, then had to rest. I took all the dogs inside – no need to press our luck (or the bird’s!) – and have been watching him hop from place to place. I’ll have to re-check the yard before I let the dogs out again, just in case he’s still hanging around.

Do I think there will be dead birds in Nemo’s future? Of course. He’s a dog. He’s curious. He has strong jaws and sharp teeth. Even if he doesn’t mean to hurt them. But at least this little guy made it in – and out – of Nemo’s jaws safely.

My job takes me to some interesting places. I'm in Rockwall, TX, teaching for Karen Pryor Academy. We're about an hour outside Dallas. When I travel, most times I can't take my dogs. So here's the hard part: I've got a giant king-sized bed and no dogs in it!

The dogs are allowed (ok, encouraged) to sleep with us, much to my husband's dismay. I, on the other hand, find myself comfortable only when I'm "mummified," which refers to what it feels like when you've got a dog on each side of you, holding down the sheets, making it hard to move or turn over in bed.

So I've got this huge bed and it's completely empty. I can stretch completely out and not touch a dog. There isn't even a dog hair on the bed! What kind of life is this?!

My flight gets in tomorrow night (technically Monday a.m., but saying tomorrow night makes me feel better) and I can't wait to squeech myself in bed between all the dogs again. A good night's sleep will evade me until then…

The dog days of summer have hit Italy hard this year. During my family's beach holiday on the enchanting island of Sardinia, the surprise star was Tota, a pint-size, black-and-white, eight-month-old mixed-breed from Naples whom our friends brought along to a house we shared near the southern town of Pula. Tota, named for the famed Neapolitan comedian, not Dorothy's pooch, has exactly one trick in his repertoire: misbehaving. He swiped everything from pasta al pesto to a half-pound of butter off the kitchen table, ran around the yard with a neighbor's flip-flop between his teeth, and even left a summer-holiday gift on another neighbor's driveway. My attempts to get him to retrieve a Frisbee failed as soon as he realized it wasn't a pork chop.

To read more about the canine Italian lifeguards, click here…