But he's our dog....

Getting a puppy is alot like having a baby. I know many people will take offense at that, but if you have a kid or a dog, you know I'm telling the truth. When Jeff and I started thinking about having kids, we each had these preconceived notions of what our little bundle of joy would be like. We watched other people's kids and said things like "our child will never behave that way". Or "we'll never treat our child like that. We'll reason with her." And other such nonsense. Then reality hits and you find yourself saying things you said you wouldn't say and putting up with things you never thought you would. And the phrase "pick your battles" has a whole new meaning.
Fast forward to last summer when we decided to get a dog. Everyone we know has a dog. But our dog was going to be different. Not better. Just different. Because we were going to be it's owner and we were going to do everything right. I mean, come on, I read the Monks of New Skete books. I had seen all of the Victoria Stilwell It's Me or the Dog shows. I read at least 4 books on dog behavior/obedience. Yup, our dog was going to be different.
And then we got him. The first couple of days were fine. We were so in love with this sweet bundle that everything he did was cute. Chew on my slipper? Aww. Snag my new shirt? He's soooo cute! Then the cute factor started wearing off. Potty training was in full swing. I followed him around everywhere and the second he sniffed the floor, he was scooped up and taken outside. After he pottied (and all the while I was saying "good potty!") he got a piece of turkey bacon. Everyone should be treated so well for going potty. I have to admit, he potty trained much easier than I thought. We were sure that this was a sign of his superior schneagle intelligence so we worked on other tricks. He learned "sit" very quickly. He learned "shake" even faster. And then I think it was around this time that he realized this was his house now and we just live in it. I had read somewhere that a person should try to think like a dog in order to train a dog. Are you kidding me?! If I could get into his mind, I'm an certain Jake is always thinking just 1 of 4 things: 1. what can I chew now? 2. when are they taking me to the park? 3. when are they going to feed me? and 4. what can I chew now?
I'm not sure. Maybe he really is an animal of superior intelligence and I've totally underestimated him. He does seem to have us trained pretty well.