There's lots of ways to . You can go the normal route and use your fingers. I've seen people play the piano with their toes, so I'm sure it can be done with a keyboard too. Some folks talk into headsets using a program that changes their spoken words into text on the screen.
, uses his muzzle.
For me, everyday is
I work a lot from my home at Sometimes I work out by the pool, sometimes in the common areas. It's often the case that I have to leave my apartment to get any work done.
That velvety, yellow muzzle won't allow me to get a word typed in edgewise.
Normally, I prop up my feet on my comfy brown sofa, my laptop perched on my legs, and creativity flows (Whoops, here he comes now! Be back in a few).
Back. Yeah, so where were we? Oh, right. Muzzling.
It's probably my fault that Toby feels the need to mash my keyboard with his snout, jowls smeared over the black keys. We have a game called "Nuzzle the Muzzle," where I nudge his nose with mine, and he nudges back (or slaps me with a sloppy canine kiss). So, he's probably used to playing around like this.
I tell him," Toby, use your muzzle for good and not for evil." He looks at me with his head cocked to the side as if to say, "Huhhhhhh?"
Nevertheless, it makes working quite the circus act for me! I generally end up typing while holding the laptop in the air above his head, at least until he manages to work around that. Somehow, his nudging and muzzling pushes the laptop to the table and the dog onto my lap.
And then, another game of "Nuzzle the Muzzle" ensues and the vicious cycle spins on.
I haven't yet mastered the fine art of dodging "muzzling." But, if that cute face gets anymore hambone-esque, I know I'll never get any work done.