02x27 - The Dog Trainer

[bunniefuu]

-Be sure and get
three spoons, Tommy,

because we're going
to-- Oh, hi, Grandma.

I was just telling
Tommy that nobody

can make tapioca
pudding as good as you.

-Well, good.

If that means you'd like that
last dishful, you may have it.

-Gee, thanks Mrs. Mitchell.

-Me and Tommy are going to
have a picnic with Bobby

over at his house.

-Why doesn't Bobby
come over here?

-He's got the mumps.

-Dennis!

Dennis, come back here.

[theme music]

-Fremont.
Fremont.

Ho, ho, Fremont, come here.

Oh, Fremont.

You know, Martha,
I think I'll start

teaching Fremont a few of
the simple commands like sit,

stand, and lie down.

And then I'll teach him
to stop jumping on people

and making a
nuisance of himself.

-That's just his way
of being friendly.

-Well, it's also a sign
of an untrained animal.

-I still think you
ought to send him

to one of those dog
training schools

if you're really serious about
teaching him to obey you.

-And waster all that money?

Why, Martha, this new
book on dog training

is so simple that even
a dog can understand it.

-I hope you're right, dear.

-Oh, you wait and see, Martha.

Why, Fremont will soon
be a rigidly disciplined

canine machine obeying his
master's every command.

Let's see now, first, oh
yes, make the voice firm.

Fremont.

-I'm afraid Fremont doesn't
want to be trained, dear.

-Well, what he wants
doesn't matter.

Through the years man
has been the teacher

and the beast has
been the student.

Why, at one time, not so long
ago, the domesticated cow

used to be a wild beast.

Do you know what changed him?

-He found out he was a girl?

-He-- oh, Martha.
Aha.

There you are, Fremont.

All right now, Fremont, when I
give the command I want to sit.

No, no, Fremont, no.

Wait until I give the command.

-Maybe he's read the book, dear.

-Oh, Martha.

All right Fremont, heh, heh,
there, now, Fremont, sit.

Now stand.

Now sit.

Now stand.

Now sit.

Now stand.

All right now, Martha,
you watch this.

All right, Fremont, sit.

Oh, good grief, no, no, Fremont.

All right, then stand.

All right, then sit.

No Oh, Martha, I wonder
if the knucklehead who

wrote this book
ever owned a dog.

It's hopeless.

Fremont, oh, Fremont,
come on out here.

-Hi, Mr. Wilson.

-Dennis.

-Are you playing hide and
seek with Fremont, Mr. Wilson?

-Ow, Dennis, will you go home?

-Hello, dear.

-Hi, Mrs. Wilson.

My Grandma Mitchell asked me
to return this mixing bowl.

-Well, thank you, dear.

-All right, Fremont,
now lie down.

Down.

Lie down.

-Maybe Fremont's not
tired, Mr. Wilson

-Oh, Dennis.

-Dear, Mr. Wilson is
teaching Fremont to obey him.

-Oh.

What have you taught
Fremont so far, Mr. Wilson?

-So far I've taught him
to crawl under the sofa.

Now don't bother me.

-Can I help train
Fremont, Mr. Wilson?

-No, of course, you can't.

Why, yes, yes, Dennis.

Why, yes, you can
help me train Fremont.

-I can?

-Well, as a matter of fact,
you can do more than just help.

Me

-Oh, boy.

-Now, you see this book, Dennis?

It tells all about
how to train dogs.

-Jeepers, pictures
and everything.

-That's right.

Pictures and everything.

Now you take this book and
Fremont along home with you.

And if you can teach
him anything at all,

I'll give you a whole quarter.

-A whole quarter?

Wow.
-George Wilson.

-No, Martha, please.

-Now you just follow the
simple directions, that Dennis.

You can't go wrong.

-Jeepers, a whole quarter.

Come on, Fremont.

-George Wilson, the idea.

You know Dennis won't be
able to train Fremont.

-Well, Martha, you
know it, and I know it,

but Dennis doesn't know it.

And with any kind
of luck at all,

that silly book will keep Dennis
out of my hair for a week.

-George Wilson,
I'm ashamed of you.

-You know, I'm a little
ashamed of myself,

Martha, taking advantage
of a defenseless little dog

like that.

Ho, ho, ho.

-Now you listen to me, Fremont.

Stay.

Stay, Fremont.

-Now walk away and
see if he stays there.

-OK.

Don't you think he followed
me a little slower that time?

-Maybe a little.

Hey, why don't we give
him an examination,

and see if dumb old
Fremont's learned anything

at all for sure?

-That's a swell idea, Tommy.

OK, Fremont.

Sit.

Down.

Come.
Stay.

-Well, that gives Fremont
a big fat zero for today.

-And that's just what I'm
going to get from good old Mr.

Wilson instead of that quarter.

-Gee, Dennis, you've got
to teach him something.

It's your turn to buy the
next bag of jellybeans.

-Yeah.

Tommy?

I wonder what makes
jellybeans so good?

-Search me, but someday I'm
going to have a big farm

and grow nothing but jellybeans.

-Jeepers, Tommy,
you can get sick

on jellybeans everyday
your whole life.

-Yeah, when was
the last time you

got sick on jellybeans, Dennis?

-Hmm, I feel kind
of sick right now.

-Me, too.

-Here Fre-- Fremont.

Fremont.
Fremont.

Fremont?

Here, Fremont.

Now come on, Fremont.

Now I'll make him sit.

Sit, Fremont.

Did you see that?

The front half of him was almost
trained there for a minute.

-Do you feel real sick yet?

-Heck, no.

-Me neither.

Where'd it go?

-Fremont's eating it.

-I knew that dog isn't as
dumb as he's trying to act.

-Look, Fremont
wants another one.

Jeepers, Tommy, the whole
world must love jellybeans.

-Yeah.

All except my Dad.

He hates them.

-I bet old Fremont would do
anything for a jellybean.

-Dennis!

Are you thinking
what I'm thinking?

-Fremont, if you sit down, I'll
give you another jellybean.

Now if you lie down, I'll
give you two jellybeans.

-Dennis, you trained Fremont.

-Jeepers, Tommy.

Good old Fremont
just wants to be

treated like any
other little kid.

-Isn't it a lovely,
quiet afternoon, Martha,

without Dennis around?

-Very quiet, dear.

All because of a little
ingenuity on my part

getting Dennis to--

-Mr. Wilson.

-Me and my big mouth.

-Hi, Mr. Wilson.

Hi, Mrs. Wilson.

-Oh, what is it, Dennis?

-We trained Fremont.

-You what?

-We trained Fremont.

-Oh, you did, did you?

Heh, heh, where is he,
out getting his diploma?

-Here, Fremont.
Sit.

-I don't believe it.

-Stand, Fremont.

And here's one that's
not even in the book.

Play dead, Fremont.

-Fantastic.

Utterly fantastic.

Martha, I told you the author
of that book was a genius.

Dennis, here is your quarter.

-Thanks, Mr. Wilson.

Oh, Tommy helped me, too.

-Boy, did I.

-Oh, well, here's a
quarter for you, Tommy.

-Gee, thanks Mr. Wilson.

We'd better get down to the
candy store before it closes.

Come on.

-Are you going to spend
all your money for candy?

-We have to.

Fremont ate up all
our jellybeans.

Hey, Mr. Wilson,
would you like us

to teach Fremont to
carry in the morning

paper for only a dime extra?

-Oh, perhaps some
other time, Dennis.

-OK.

Sit, Fremont.

-Why, Martha, I have never
seen anything like it.

-I wonder why you couldn't
train Fremont, George?

-Oh, well, it isn't
that I couldn't, Martha.

It's simply I lost interest.

And has Dennis has proven,
training a dog is child's play.

-George, have you notice
that Fremont hasn't moved

one inch since Dennis
told him to sit?

-He's certainly
trained all right.

Why he didn't even jump
on me when he ran in.

Fremont, come here.

Fremont.

Did you hear me?
Fremont.

Stand.

Or lie down, play dead.

-He doesn't seem to pay the
slightest attention to you.

-Oh, of course, he does, Martha.

Come here, Fremont.

-Don't yell at him.

-Well, I'm not yelling, Martha.

All right now, Fremont, stand.

Oh, well, now come on,
Fremont, it's all right.

Why you can even jump up
and lick me in the face

if you want to.

Come on, boy.

Great Scott, Martha.

That insidious little boy
has brainwashed my dog.

Fremont.

[doorbell ringing]

-Oh, come in Mr. Wilson.

-Oh, hello, Mitchell.

-Is something the
matter with Fremont?

I gave Dennis a quarter
to train Fremont for me,

and now I can't do
a thing with him.

-Dennis?

-Fremont.

-I'm afraid I don't
understand, Mr. Wilson.

-Watch.

All right, Fremont, stand, lie
down, do anything you want.

Now do you understand?

My own dog, and all he
does it sit and stare

at me as though I'm a halfwit.

-Dennis, come down
here a minute please.

DENNIS: Coming Dad.

Hi.

Hi, Mr. Wilson.

Hi, Fremont.

Anybody want a jellybean?

-Oh, no thank you, Dennis.

-Dennis, I thought you were
told not to eat anymore

jellybeans before dinner?

-Well, I'm not eating them.

I'm just running around with
them so they won't get stale.

-Well, just don't run around
with them in your stomach.

Mr. Wilson's having
trouble with his dog.

-With good old Fremont?

-That animal won't do anything
but sit since you told him to.

-Jeepers, he won't?

Come here, Fremont.

See, there's nothing wrong with
good old Fremont, Mr. Wilson.

-Fremont.
Come here.

Well, he ignores me completely.

-Shame on you, Fremont.

That's good old Mr.
Wilson over there.

-Well, the only thing I
can suggest, Mr. Wilson,

is that you take the dog home
and train him all over again,

so that he'll mind
you instead of Dennis.

-I suppose you're
right, Mitchell.

Here Fremont.

Oh.

Fremont.

-Mr. Wilson?

Here.

Try giving Fremont
some jellybeans.

-Dennis, I refuse
to stoop to bribery

to make my own dog obey me.

All right, Fremont, now
watch me just once more.

Down.

Down, Fremont.

You see?

You see, Fremont?

All right now, you try.

Come on, down, Fremont.
Down.

-George.

Do you realize it's
after midnight?

-Oh, I'll be up in
a few minutes, dear.

I'm trying an entirely new
approach to the problem.

-Is Fremont obeying
you any better?

-Well, at least he
stopped growling at me.

Oh, Martha?

-Yes, dear?

-Oh, well, never mind.

Goodnight, Martha.

-Goodnight, dear.

-All right, Fremont.

Oh, Fremont, come on, wake up.

Now listen, this is no picnic
for me either, you know.

Now come on, watch me.

Now look, down, oh.

Down.

Down.
Down.

Darn you anyway, Fremont.

Oh, all right.

Let's both take a
five minute rest.

-OK.

Let's try it again.

Lie down.

I said, down.

Fremont, he's hopeless.

-He's the dumbest
pet I ever had.

-Let's try giving
him a jellybean.

-It won't do any good.

-Well, let's try.

Sit up and beg, Mr. Wilson.

-I've been sitting
up since I was two.

-Maybe we could teach
him to get the newspaper.

-Are you kidding?

That mutt couldn't
carry in his leash

if one end was
fastened to his collar.

-Go get the
newspaper, Mr. Wilson.

Fremont, he's doing it.

-I'll give you two to one
odds he slobbers all over it.

-Jeepers, look at that.

-What did I tell you?

-Don't tell me he's torn
up the newspaper again.

George Wilson, can't you
ever do anything right?

George.

George, wake up, dear.

-Martha, I'm so sorry.

Next time I'll try
it with my mouth--

-George.

-Huh?

Where am I?

-You must have fallen
asleep on the floor.

You must have been dreaming.

Come on upstairs, dear.

-Yes, Martha.

Oh, one minute, dear.

Wake up, Fremont.

Next time you can carry
your own darn paper in.

-I'm making some
more toast, boys.

Now that's what I call a perfect
cup of coffee, Mrs. Mitchell.

-Well, thank you, dear.

-When am I going to be
able to drink coffee?

-About the same time you
start supporting your old man.

Now drink up your milk.

-Anybody home?

-Hey, that sounds like
good old Mr. Wilson.

Hi, Mr. Wilson.

Hi, Fremont.

-What brings you out
so early, Mr. Wilson?

-Mitchell, I would like
to give Fremont to Dennis.

-You what?

-Jeepers, wow.

Oh, boy.

-I don't know what
to say Mr. Wilson.

-Say yes, Dad, say yes.
-Now hold on a minute young man.

-All I ask is that Dennis
take good care of Fremont.

-Oh, I will, I will.

-Are you sure, Mr. Wilson?

-I'm sure, Mitchell
and thank you.

-All right, Fremont, come on.

Come on.

-It's easy to see
the animal will

be happier with a small boy.

-Hi, Fremont.

Thanks again, Mr. Wilson.

Hi, ya, Fremont.

Come here, come here.

-Hey, Dennis?

-Hi, Tommy.

Guess what?

-You're all out of jellybeans.

-Heck, no.

Mr. Wilson just
gave Fremont to me.

-No kidding?

-Here, Fremont.

-Boy, he's all dog, isn't he?

-Jeepers, and how.

-Hey, what's Mr. Wilson
going to use for a dog?

-I don't know.

Maybe he's going to get
a dog more his own size.

Good old Fremont.

Hey, Dad, is Mr. Wilson
getting another dog?

-I don't think so, son.

-Then why'd he give
me good old Fremont?

Didn't he like him anymore?

-I'm afraid Mr.
Wilson thought Fremont

didn't like him anymore.

-Jeepers.

Who wouldn't like
good old Mr. Wilson?

-Yeah, who wouldn't?

-I bet you do to like
good old Mr. Wilson.

And he loves you.

And you know something, Dad?

Who wants a used old dog anyway?

-I was hoping you'd come around
to that way of thinking, son.

Now the only problem
we have is to get

Fremont to act like he
likes Mr. Wilson again.

-Hey, Dennis.

Remember how mad
Fremont got at us

that time we gave
him that bubble bath?

-Yeah.

And how he always
runs home and hides

on Mr. Wilson's lap, when Miss
Cathcart's mean old cat chases

him?
-Boy, does he.

-Tommy, I'll get the
water running in the tub.

You go visit good
old Miss Cathcart.

-OK.

-Come on, Fremont.

-It certainly seems odd without
Fremont being underfoot,

doesn't it, dear?
-Huh?

Oh, well I really
hadn't noticed.

-Are you sure you wouldn't
like a little something to eat?

-No, thank you, Martha.

I'm not very hungry.

-It's such a warm, lovely day.

Wouldn't you like to
take a little walk?

-No, I don't feel like it, dear.

-George.

Dennis will understand.

Go and bring Fremont home.

-Martha, I can't.

Fremont isn't my dog any longer.

Well, he doesn't
like me anymore.

-Oh, I don't believe
that for one second.

-Well, it's true.

He didn't even bother
to wag his tail

when he saw me this morning.

And you know how he always
used to wag his tail

and jump up on me
every time he saw me.

-Oh, you're just being silly.

-Well, it is not silly at all.

Why, he treats me like I'm some
old bone he's gotten tired of.

-I miss Fremont, too.

-Well, I'm sorry,
Martha, but the only way

I'll take Fremont back
is if he comes home

to me of his own free will.

[barking and scratching]

-George, what was that?

-Fremont.

Oh, stop that.

Why, Martha, Fremont
likes me again.

-Of course, he does, dear.

He never stopped liking you.

-Oh, Fremont, you
crazy dog, you.

[theme music]