Heart Like a Dog

The Good, the Bad, and the Oh My God of living with dogs!

Training Centers?…Day Three Hundred, Twenty Three

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A while back I had a post about good dog trainers.  My advice was a good trainer won’t make you do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.  I’m going to expand on that a bit to include this, check out the training center and observe the instructor working;  WITHOUT your dog.

As many of you know I’ve been looking for a training center focused on positive training, I am interested in learning how to work positively with my dog with the goal to go on and share this knowledge with others.

A friend of mine had mentioned a center she was using; I was supposed to visit this center two weeks ago, but fate intervened and I wasn’t able to go until last night.

I had no intentions of bringing either of the dogs with me, because I wanted to be able to observe and (hopefully) learn and I didn’t want to be distracted by the dogs.

I got to the center about 10 minutes before the beginner obedience class ended, so I sat and watched; the young puppies were so good, they did three-minute downs and stays!

When class was over my friend came over and introduced me to the trainer, a young woman who seemed really nice.  The second class came in, there were seven dogs in the class, one Lab, a Lab mix, a Doberman, an Akita, what looked like a Blonde Scottish Terrier and two German Shepherd.

I have to admit, I’m a bit intimidated by the bigger dogs, but watching the Akita working with her human had me mesmerized.  The mom had some type of treat she was using and the dog was so focused on her human, she wasn’t paying attention to anything else.  

About half-way into the class, the trainer decided to do recalls.  One of the Shepherds (Nikka) wasn’t quite getting that her mom wanted her to stay while she walked to the other side of the room.  The trainer came over and stood on Nikka’s leash and instructed the mom to walk away.  The mom walked away and Nikka jumped up to run after her and came up short.

“Come back and put her down again,” said the instructor.  The mom did and started to walk away again.  Again Nikka stood up to go after her mom and the instructor yanked the leash so hard, Nikka’s front two feet came off the ground and she yelped.

I sat there in shock, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I didn’t know what to do. 

After that Nikka stayed on that side of the room until her mother called for her, then they started again at the other side of the room. 

Honest to God, the exact same thing happened again and again the trainer yanked poor Nikka off her feet.  Now she instructed mom to do it; granted mom didn’t do it nearly as harshly as that instructor did, but at that point I couldn’t watch anymore.  I walked over to my friend and said, “I have to go.” 

She wanted me to stay, and I said, “I can’t stay here and watch them yank that Shepherd again.”

I barely made it to the car before the tears were falling and I cried the whole twenty-two minute ride home.  I kept thinking about that poor dog getting yanked around and how grateful I was that I didn’t bring Delilah with me.  Quite frankly if the instructor had yanked my dog the way she yanked Nikka, I’d probably be writing this blog from a jail cell.

I feel ashamed that I did nothing to help Nikka, and I wonder is there anything I could have done? 

What are your thoughts?

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie…Day Three Hundred, Twenty Two

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Where does your dog sleep?

Our dogs sleep in their bed and we sleep with them; at least that is what they would lead you to believe.

We have an over-sized queen bed; that uncomfortably fits all fur of us.

When Delilah first joined our pack we struggled with her jumping on the bed. I would get up and pull her off at least five times during the night. It was a battle fought and won by persistence.  Hers.

Once the battle was won; we needed a nightly routine in order to ensure we at least had a chance to get a spot on the bed; it starts with Sampson and I in the bed. Sometimes Delilah is there too, but as soon as she thinks I’m heading her way she usually gets up and sits beside the bed.

I position myself; then using carrots, I lure Sampson up the bed toward his pillow, each time Sampson gets a carrot Delilah does as well.

After about three carrots I have Sampson where I want him and I say, “Okay, pretty come on.” Up she jumps to the bottom of the bed where most of the time she curls up on MY feet.  If I move too quickly because I don’t have my feet in position before she gets settled; my darling diva growls at me.

I try to manage her by reaching down and petting her while I position my feet; the surprising thing is if I move during the night, she normally doesn’t growl. Go figure.

Sampson meanwhile has chosen a parent to lean against. He stretches his legs straight out against the other parent’s back. In this manner we go to sleep, Hubby clinging desperately to one side of the bed, while I cling to other and Sampson sleeping blissfully between.

It surprises me that this doesn’t upset me. In fact there are times when I wake up in the night to find his head tucked under my chin or resting on my shoulder and I smile. I. Smile. In. The. Middle. Of. The. Night.

Or my legs ache from remaining in one spot for too long, or my butt is freezing because it is hanging off the bed and I laugh. To myself of course, but I laugh.

Last night I rolled over and Sampson was facing me; I took the opportunity to give him a little good night kiss, he shifted his position and put his nose right up to my nose, typically this would freak me out; (if I can’t breathe cool air I wig) instead, I snuggled closer and I smiled.

Please keep the typing to a minimum…I’m trying to sleep.

Dear Delilah/Dear Mama…Day Three Hundred, Twenty One

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There are times I dearly wish the dogs and I could have open, clear communication.  I imagine it might go something like this:

Dear Delilah,

I love you very much and am so proud of all that you have accomplished in the four and half short years you have been with us.

There are times when your intelligence knocks my socks off, like how quickly you took to agility and how when we are walking and your leash becomes snagged you stand there calmly waiting for me to free you.

Then there are times when I am left shaking my head and wondering just what the hell you are thinking.

You have a tendency to destroy things, and really I am ok with your destroying toys that I give you, however I really have a problem when I come home to find you’ve eaten:

a stick of butter,

a bag of chips,


destroyed a box and rearranged the paper plates.

And while I’m cleaning up that mess; you go in the shopping bags and take out the grapes.  Delilah, there is a reason I don’t give you grapes, they are dangerous for you; they can kill you!

Can you enlighten me, as to what goes on in that chocolate brain of yours?

With much love,

Mama

Dear Mama,

I believe you are referring to yesterday morning when you ignored my hint that I was bored and wanted something to do. Okay, so you threw the ball a couple of times, then ignored me and went into the kitchen where you tempted me with a fresh stick of butter.

Do you remember butter Mama? And the butter wrapper you used TO LET US LICK.

You made yourself something to eat and then without even sharing anything, got dressed gave me a garlic tablet and left.  A garlic tablet!  What kind of dog do you think I am?

I thought about that butter and its salty goodness and I couldn’t help myself Mama, I had to have the butter!  Once that stick was gone my appetite was whetted and I started looking around for something else.

I thought about the table in the dining room and how you are always shooing me away from there and I figured there must be something good on it.  Unfortunately I had to lick a few plates, and chew a little cardboard before I hit the mother load.

Those potato chips are good, but I don’t have opposable thumbs Mama, (you said it tonight when you insisted on going through the door before me)  my only resource is my teeth, so I tore that bag up getting those chips.  But oh the saltiness,  it was well worth the disapproving look you shot me when you saw it.

I’m sorry you don’t approve of my methods Mama, but quite frankly I don’t always approve of yours, like making me lie down or sit for my food, or how about that long leash you make me drag around, or that bath you gave me yesterday after my wonderfully smelly roll in the field, and the way you make me wait until exactly 9:00 before giving me my treat.

Think about it Mama and you will realize the blame for yesterday falls on you.

I love you too.

Delilah

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