Generally by the time we get to the park she resorts to a few theatrics to see if I will give in and take off her muzzle so she can more effectively chase birds. She begins by rubbing her nose in the grass and then sliding along the ground before finally resting in the grass as though she has lost her will to live.
I figured I had just landed myself a dog who tends towards the melodramatic... something she learned from mama most likely. I give her a little tug and she moves on with her very hard life.
And then Chad told me about their most recent walk and how Bella tried to bite another dog.
Me: But it was ok because she was wearing her muzzle, right?
Me: Why did you take off her muzzle?
Chad: Well, she started rubbing her face on the ground and then she flopped down and wouldn't move. She lost her will to live. I had to take it off.
She has him wrapped around her paw.