We bring our maremmas inside every night and whenever the sky decides to deliver a biblical deluge, which is pretty often lately. Trouble is, there are three steps up from where they sleep to the main hallway of our crap shack and Buster, our male, has grown fearful of climbing these stairs just at the time when he is almost too big to assist up them. Yeah, yeah, the bigger they are, they harder they fall. Well, at six months, he’s now the size of a small pony and lifting his wiggling, scared arse up the steps is a loud request for injury.
I’ve had this trouble before with a dog. My old rough collie Red was a rescue dog who’d never seen stairs till I brought him home. Well, he’d never seen a lot of things, but stairs was a biggie. It took months of stalwart courage for the poor beastie to finally get his ass up the steps without ass-istance. I suspect it’s going to be the same with Buster.
