Sunday morning we had the most beautiful fall weather. Sampson, Delilah and I headed out shortly after 9:00. The air was cool and crisp, the sky bright blue with white fluffy clouds. As we walked I looked up to the majestic sight of a pair of hawks flying overhead.
They were too high for a good close up shot.
The dogs had headed up the hill, probably thinking they were going to get a walk in the woods, (they weren’t), so around the block we went. The dogs took their time. They sniffed the things that needed to be sniffed, and peed on the things that needed to be peed on.
We encountered one person. A young girl with her music, singing out loud to her heart’s content.
There were no dogs.
There were no other people.
There were no distractions.
Until Sampson stopped to poop and something, (what I have no idea), caught Delilah’s attention.
I’ve mentioned this before, Delilah is a hard core puller. We’re working on it, but until we get it right, she continues to pull. So Sampson stops to poop and Delilah goes right to the end of the leash. And stands there, staring off at Dog knows what.
If I stand here long enough…she’ll give me a treat.
I had a funny thought. I thought, I’m more stubborn than she is.
I have mentioned a time or two that she’s a lab, right? A chocolate lab. Actually, I think she might have some donkey in her, because that jackass just stood there, at the end of the leash for about two full minutes, with me at the other end waiting for her to give.
Sampson got so bored, he laid down in the grass.
Dear Dog, it must be something shiny.
Eventually after standing there for what seemed like forever, I had the wherewithal to stick my hand in the treat bag, which promptly turned her around. I said, “Yes!” and gave her a treat.
Finally we were back on our way.
As we rounded the turn towards home we saw the mail truck heading up the street and they pulled into our driveway (I had no idea Amazon Prime used the post office for Sunday deliveries). Hubby must have heard the truck because he came out to get the package. Since we were virtually on the edge of our property, I let Sampson off leash and told him to “Go Get Daddy”, and then because I was stupid, or hadn’t had enough coffee (or I’d had too much whiskey) I let Delilah off leash too, with the same instructions.
She headed up the lawn.
Then, for a reason known only to her (probably has a lot to do with the fact the neighbor loves to feed wildlife) she veered off to the neighbor’s yard.
The arrow on the left indicates the path she was expected to take, the arrow on the right…well you know.
I was stunned. (Which I always am when she takes off on me.) She’d been doing so good and then…so I yelled, “Delilah!” In my deepest, loudest voice and then I said, “Get over here!”
She turned and ran back to me and then, that’s when I made my colossal training mistake. As she ran back towards me, I pointed at the house and said, “Get in the house.” Instead of rewarding her and praising her for coming back to me, I scolded her.
She ran up the yard and into the house and I spent the rest of the day apologizing to her (like she knew what I was babbling about) and feeling like a jerk because I failed my dog, and wondering if I’d just undone the last two years worth of work.
Honestly, if my foot would reach, I’d kick myself in the ass.
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