"Mama," my eight-year old son said. "I'm going to build a house on the hill in our backyard."
"Okay," I said. "I'm sure it will have a great view."
I watched the boy go to work. He had his toolbox and shovel. I watched him collect tree branches and rocks. I could tell this was going to be a masterpiece. Soon, my son's buddy came over. He decided to pitch in, too. It was a major production.
The boys worked diligently. Schultz, our German Shepherd, stood by the door and watched all this activity with great interest. I could tell he wanted to join in. Finally, I let him out of the house. He ran like a madman over to the construction site. As soon as he got there, he picked up a giant branch. He trotted around the yard with that thing in his mouth.
"Schultz!" my son yelled. "Stop it!"
Schultz didn't listen. So I went outside. "Come here, Schultz." The big furry beast pranced over to me with the branch swinging from side to side. I led him to the construction site. "Drop it," I said.
The dog dropped the branch right in place.
"See," I said. "He just needed some on the job training."