This is another fun "game" Toby and I played! I'd throw a treat on the floor and point at it while saying "Take it, take it, take it!" in that deleriously excited voice previously learned for "come when called". Of course Toby was happy to obey. The third or fourth time though I'd say nothing. If Toby lunged for the treat I'd say "leave it". If he waited nicely, after a few seconds I'd tell him to take it as before. The idea was for Toby to learn that he could "leave" things without getting frustrated or deprived.
It was so cute to see him catch on to the game. If the treat fell and there was silence, he would immediately sit as if to say, "It's too tempting if I'm not parked on the floor!" Remember the Peanuts cartoons where Snoopy sits like a vulture staring from the top of the doghouse? Toby stared at the treat as he waited just like that.
Pretty soon I was totally confident in his mastery of take it/leave it. So when it was our turn to demonstrate to the class, for once I wasn't a bit anxious. Mr. Dean told us exactly what to do if our dog took the treat without permission. These were special treats, pig ears or something (I know, sounds gross, but the dogs loved it). I barely paid attention to him because I knew I wasn't going to need to do anything.
Boy was I surprised when Toby lunged at the treat. He had it in his mouth in a millisecond. You'd need a super-slow-mo camera to see it. My jaw dropped and I just stood there. Mr. Dean said something like, you're going to have to be quicker than that to teach him, and I just said, "But he never messes that one up!"
So that night I learned not to assume that everything would go the same way in class that it does at home!
Monday, April 30, 2012
Take It or Leave It
This is another fun "game" Toby and I played! I'd throw a treat on the floor and point at it while saying "Take it, take it, take it!" in that deleriously excited voice previously learned for "come when called". Of course Toby was happy to obey. The third or fourth time though I'd say nothing. If Toby lunged for the treat I'd say "leave it". If he waited nicely, after a few seconds I'd tell him to take it as before. The idea was for Toby to learn that he could "leave" things without getting frustrated or deprived.
It was so cute to see him catch on to the game. If the treat fell and there was silence, he would immediately sit as if to say, "It's too tempting if I'm not parked on the floor!" Remember the Peanuts cartoons where Snoopy sits like a vulture staring from the top of the doghouse? Toby stared at the treat as he waited just like that.
Pretty soon I was totally confident in his mastery of take it/leave it. So when it was our turn to demonstrate to the class, for once I wasn't a bit anxious. Mr. Dean told us exactly what to do if our dog took the treat without permission. These were special treats, pig ears or something (I know, sounds gross, but the dogs loved it). I barely paid attention to him because I knew I wasn't going to need to do anything.
Boy was I surprised when Toby lunged at the treat. He had it in his mouth in a millisecond. You'd need a super-slow-mo camera to see it. My jaw dropped and I just stood there. Mr. Dean said something like, you're going to have to be quicker than that to teach him, and I just said, "But he never messes that one up!"
So that night I learned not to assume that everything would go the same way in class that it does at home!
It was so cute to see him catch on to the game. If the treat fell and there was silence, he would immediately sit as if to say, "It's too tempting if I'm not parked on the floor!" Remember the Peanuts cartoons where Snoopy sits like a vulture staring from the top of the doghouse? Toby stared at the treat as he waited just like that.
Pretty soon I was totally confident in his mastery of take it/leave it. So when it was our turn to demonstrate to the class, for once I wasn't a bit anxious. Mr. Dean told us exactly what to do if our dog took the treat without permission. These were special treats, pig ears or something (I know, sounds gross, but the dogs loved it). I barely paid attention to him because I knew I wasn't going to need to do anything.
Boy was I surprised when Toby lunged at the treat. He had it in his mouth in a millisecond. You'd need a super-slow-mo camera to see it. My jaw dropped and I just stood there. Mr. Dean said something like, you're going to have to be quicker than that to teach him, and I just said, "But he never messes that one up!"
So that night I learned not to assume that everything would go the same way in class that it does at home!
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Come When Called
For our first homework assignment, Toby and I were given one of simplest yet most crucial commands. A good recall makes it much more fun to go places with a dog because they sometimes can be safely released from the leash to explore.
These first days, I said, "Toby, come!" and then, in an excited way with ascending pitch, "come, come, come!!" Eventually, according to Mr. Dean, we would drop the second part. When Toby came running we had him sit in front of us for a treat.
Being half yellow lab, Toby is a VERY food-motivated dog. So it didn't take more than a few hours for him to get the idea that good things come to those who, well - come - when called. Several times a day, when he was poking around the yard or on a mission of destruction in the house, Toby would hear me or Ted calling. Whatever he was doing was instantly forgotten in the race to get a tiny treat. As he grew, though, and had interesting opportunities to chase rabbits or seagulls, would Toby still have the same willingness to drop what he was doing?
In our second class we had to demonstrate our recall. For this class we lined up in a walkway next to the vet clinic. A grassy berm about 2 feet wide lined the each edge of the sidewalk. Mr. Dean wore an old faded polo shirt and jeans and paced up and down the sidewalk as we stood as quietly as possible, trying to pay attention to him and keep our dogs from interacting - not an easy feat! As he recapitulated the instruction that we were supposed to have been carrying out in practice all week, he would occasionally reach out for a leash to demonstrate with someone's dog. (By the way, this usually showed that the dog had no trouble with the task once they were with someone who knew how to tell them what that was!)
Then, one by one, we each had to step onto the sidewalk and show our stuff. If we owners were making any mistake, however minor, we would instantly be corrected and have to try again. I got more and more anxious as I watched the other folks take their turns. Lily's owner needed to be more enthusiastic to coax the shy collie onto the sidewalk. Jax took off like a greyhound and his tail hovered over the sidewalk as he squirmily waited for his reward. Fluffy Bonnie marched up to her owner and tried to take fingers along with the treat. And then it was our turn.
Okay.Think. Treat in hand. Leash to Mr. Dean. Walk to the other end of the sidewalk. Turn around. Now - try to sound happy and excited and like this is the most fun we will ever have and oh my goodness I hope he doesn't get distracted by the other dogs or run the other way or look up at Mr. Dean like "what did she say?"...
I needn't have worried. Toby was about to show me that he would never let me down in class. I called him and he ran straight as an arrow to me, plunked his butt on the cement, and his eyes sparkled. He took his treat and looked at me, hoping for another. And when we got back to our spot in the grass, he got it.
And this was only the beginning of class. We still had to be taught the next week's assignment, and try it to make sure we'd practice it correctly. By the time Mr. Dean dismissed us he was soaked from an hour of solid physical and mental exertion. I was wrung out mentally and stressed out about just how easy it was to goof up the simplest things. I don't know how Toby felt. He took a puppy nap as soon as we got in the car.
These first days, I said, "Toby, come!" and then, in an excited way with ascending pitch, "come, come, come!!" Eventually, according to Mr. Dean, we would drop the second part. When Toby came running we had him sit in front of us for a treat.
Being half yellow lab, Toby is a VERY food-motivated dog. So it didn't take more than a few hours for him to get the idea that good things come to those who, well - come - when called. Several times a day, when he was poking around the yard or on a mission of destruction in the house, Toby would hear me or Ted calling. Whatever he was doing was instantly forgotten in the race to get a tiny treat. As he grew, though, and had interesting opportunities to chase rabbits or seagulls, would Toby still have the same willingness to drop what he was doing?
In our second class we had to demonstrate our recall. For this class we lined up in a walkway next to the vet clinic. A grassy berm about 2 feet wide lined the each edge of the sidewalk. Mr. Dean wore an old faded polo shirt and jeans and paced up and down the sidewalk as we stood as quietly as possible, trying to pay attention to him and keep our dogs from interacting - not an easy feat! As he recapitulated the instruction that we were supposed to have been carrying out in practice all week, he would occasionally reach out for a leash to demonstrate with someone's dog. (By the way, this usually showed that the dog had no trouble with the task once they were with someone who knew how to tell them what that was!)
Then, one by one, we each had to step onto the sidewalk and show our stuff. If we owners were making any mistake, however minor, we would instantly be corrected and have to try again. I got more and more anxious as I watched the other folks take their turns. Lily's owner needed to be more enthusiastic to coax the shy collie onto the sidewalk. Jax took off like a greyhound and his tail hovered over the sidewalk as he squirmily waited for his reward. Fluffy Bonnie marched up to her owner and tried to take fingers along with the treat. And then it was our turn.
Okay.Think. Treat in hand. Leash to Mr. Dean. Walk to the other end of the sidewalk. Turn around. Now - try to sound happy and excited and like this is the most fun we will ever have and oh my goodness I hope he doesn't get distracted by the other dogs or run the other way or look up at Mr. Dean like "what did she say?"...
I needn't have worried. Toby was about to show me that he would never let me down in class. I called him and he ran straight as an arrow to me, plunked his butt on the cement, and his eyes sparkled. He took his treat and looked at me, hoping for another. And when we got back to our spot in the grass, he got it.
And this was only the beginning of class. We still had to be taught the next week's assignment, and try it to make sure we'd practice it correctly. By the time Mr. Dean dismissed us he was soaked from an hour of solid physical and mental exertion. I was wrung out mentally and stressed out about just how easy it was to goof up the simplest things. I don't know how Toby felt. He took a puppy nap as soon as we got in the car.
Come When Called
For our first homework assignment, Toby and I were given one of simplest yet most crucial commands. A good recall makes it much more fun to go places with a dog because they sometimes can be safely released from the leash to explore.
These first days, I said, "Toby, come!" and then, in an excited way with ascending pitch, "come, come, come!!" Eventually, according to Mr. Dean, we would drop the second part. When Toby came running we had him sit in front of us for a treat.
Being half yellow lab, Toby is a VERY food-motivated dog. So it didn't take more than a few hours for him to get the idea that good things come to those who, well - come - when called. Several times a day, when he was poking around the yard or on a mission of destruction in the house, Toby would hear me or Ted calling. Whatever he was doing was instantly forgotten in the race to get a tiny treat. As he grew, though, and had interesting opportunities to chase rabbits or seagulls, would Toby still have the same willingness to drop what he was doing?
In our second class we had to demonstrate our recall. For this class we lined up in a walkway next to the vet clinic. A grassy berm about 2 feet wide lined the each edge of the sidewalk. Mr. Dean wore an old faded polo shirt and jeans and paced up and down the sidewalk as we stood as quietly as possible, trying to pay attention to him and keep our dogs from interacting - not an easy feat! As he recapitulated the instruction that we were supposed to have been carrying out in practice all week, he would occasionally reach out for a leash to demonstrate with someone's dog. (By the way, this usually showed that the dog had no trouble with the task once they were with someone who knew how to tell them what that was!)
Then, one by one, we each had to step onto the sidewalk and show our stuff. If we owners were making any mistake, however minor, we would instantly be corrected and have to try again. I got more and more anxious as I watched the other folks take their turns. Lily's owner needed to be more enthusiastic to coax the shy collie onto the sidewalk. Jax took off like a greyhound and his tail hovered over the sidewalk as he squirmily waited for his reward. Fluffy Bonnie marched up to her owner and tried to take fingers along with the treat. And then it was our turn.
Okay.Think. Treat in hand. Leash to Mr. Dean. Walk to the other end of the sidewalk. Turn around. Now - try to sound happy and excited and like this is the most fun we will ever have and oh my goodness I hope he doesn't get distracted by the other dogs or run the other way or look up at Mr. Dean like "what did she say?"...
I needn't have worried. Toby was about to show me that he would never let me down in class. I called him and he ran straight as an arrow to me, plunked his butt on the cement, and his eyes sparkled. He took his treat and looked at me, hoping for another. And when we got back to our spot in the grass, he got it.
And this was only the beginning of class. We still had to be taught the next week's assignment, and try it to make sure we'd practice it correctly. By the time Mr. Dean dismissed us he was soaked from an hour of solid physical and mental exertion. I was wrung out mentally and stressed out about just how easy it was to goof up the simplest things. I don't know how Toby felt. He took a puppy nap as soon as we got in the car.
These first days, I said, "Toby, come!" and then, in an excited way with ascending pitch, "come, come, come!!" Eventually, according to Mr. Dean, we would drop the second part. When Toby came running we had him sit in front of us for a treat.
Being half yellow lab, Toby is a VERY food-motivated dog. So it didn't take more than a few hours for him to get the idea that good things come to those who, well - come - when called. Several times a day, when he was poking around the yard or on a mission of destruction in the house, Toby would hear me or Ted calling. Whatever he was doing was instantly forgotten in the race to get a tiny treat. As he grew, though, and had interesting opportunities to chase rabbits or seagulls, would Toby still have the same willingness to drop what he was doing?
In our second class we had to demonstrate our recall. For this class we lined up in a walkway next to the vet clinic. A grassy berm about 2 feet wide lined the each edge of the sidewalk. Mr. Dean wore an old faded polo shirt and jeans and paced up and down the sidewalk as we stood as quietly as possible, trying to pay attention to him and keep our dogs from interacting - not an easy feat! As he recapitulated the instruction that we were supposed to have been carrying out in practice all week, he would occasionally reach out for a leash to demonstrate with someone's dog. (By the way, this usually showed that the dog had no trouble with the task once they were with someone who knew how to tell them what that was!)
Then, one by one, we each had to step onto the sidewalk and show our stuff. If we owners were making any mistake, however minor, we would instantly be corrected and have to try again. I got more and more anxious as I watched the other folks take their turns. Lily's owner needed to be more enthusiastic to coax the shy collie onto the sidewalk. Jax took off like a greyhound and his tail hovered over the sidewalk as he squirmily waited for his reward. Fluffy Bonnie marched up to her owner and tried to take fingers along with the treat. And then it was our turn.
Okay.Think. Treat in hand. Leash to Mr. Dean. Walk to the other end of the sidewalk. Turn around. Now - try to sound happy and excited and like this is the most fun we will ever have and oh my goodness I hope he doesn't get distracted by the other dogs or run the other way or look up at Mr. Dean like "what did she say?"...
I needn't have worried. Toby was about to show me that he would never let me down in class. I called him and he ran straight as an arrow to me, plunked his butt on the cement, and his eyes sparkled. He took his treat and looked at me, hoping for another. And when we got back to our spot in the grass, he got it.
And this was only the beginning of class. We still had to be taught the next week's assignment, and try it to make sure we'd practice it correctly. By the time Mr. Dean dismissed us he was soaked from an hour of solid physical and mental exertion. I was wrung out mentally and stressed out about just how easy it was to goof up the simplest things. I don't know how Toby felt. He took a puppy nap as soon as we got in the car.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Toby Goes to Kindergarten (for dogs)
Toby attracted attention everywhere he went.
As he trotted into his first obedience class with his little curly tail in the air, we were greeted with,"Awww! He's so cute!"
"How old is he?"
"What's his name?"
"What kind of dog is he?"
I quickly took a seat with Toby wiggling and squirming at my feet, trying to get close to the neighboring big dogs. The chairs were arranged in a wide circle around the perimeter of the spacious waiting area. His little black nose quivered as he absorbed all the odors of the vet office, new dogs, and different humans. As the youngest puppy in the class, Toby had a roomful of admirers.
I was doing some admiring of my own. Several of the twelve other dogs in the room were great dogs in their own right. A friendly middle-aged couple had brought their gorgeous Golden Retriever, Glory. She was an energetic blonde with wavy fur and that irresistible Golden smile. It was easy to imagine Glory leaping to grab a Frisbee or racing across the beach to take a swim.
Next to Glory was a beautifully groomed Collie with the long snout and thick tricolor fur typical of the breed. Her owner, a bookish-looking thirty-something gentleman, stroked her reassuringly. Lily was no Lassie in temperament. She trembled with fear of all the strange new surroundings, dogs, and people. Her biggest challenge during these eight weeks would be to conquer her fears. Luckily, Lily had a gentle owner with lots of patience.
Two tiny dogs were part of our group. Bonnie was a poofy white Maltese. She was yipping and playing tug-o-war with her owner over who ruled the leash. Bonnie's "mommy" was what is euphemistically called "a woman of a certain age", with blonde shoulder-length hair and fresh-looking makeup. She favored low-cut girlish tops with shorts and wedge sandals . On her petite figure the feminine outfits looked attractive. She and her fluffy dog seemed like a perfect match.
The other little dog was a nervous brown miniature Pinscher. (I later offended the owner by calling it a Chihauhau. Hey, he looked like one to me!) Mikey suffered from acute anxiety. He lay curled on his blanket with his bugged-out eyes patrolling for the dangers he seemed to imagine were looming. Mikey's owner, a very nice retired military officer, were in the class to practice for an obedience sport called "rally", whatever that was.
Next to me was a wiry black-and-brown dog who looked like a cross between Doberman and a Greyhound, but about half the size of either breed. Believe me, Jax put the Energizer Bunny to shame. With his metabolism, I'll bet he ate more than a Tibetan mastiff. If ever a dog had ADHD, it was Jax. His owner, not surprisingly, looked hot and exasperated as she hauled on the leash to keep him within a two foot radius of her chair. Jax would have been obnoxious if he hadn't been so eager to please her. He would look adoringly into her face trying so hard to be good...but then he just had to bust some moves!
Last of the memorable canine personalities was a large long-haired mutt called Ralph. Ralph had big brown eyes, a massive skull, and attitude. A DNA test might have shown him to be part Rottweiler together with who-knows-what other big furry breeds. Ralph had some aggression issues and clearly thought he had brought the nice people who lived with him to class instead of the other way around.
Now, I'd say Mr. Dean had his hands full. Wouldn't you?
Note: I am using Mr. Dean's true name and business name (The Dean's List) by permission. See "Resources" if you'd like to visit his website. The names of Toby's classmates have been changed.
"How old is he?"
"What's his name?"
"What kind of dog is he?"
I quickly took a seat with Toby wiggling and squirming at my feet, trying to get close to the neighboring big dogs. The chairs were arranged in a wide circle around the perimeter of the spacious waiting area. His little black nose quivered as he absorbed all the odors of the vet office, new dogs, and different humans. As the youngest puppy in the class, Toby had a roomful of admirers.
I was doing some admiring of my own. Several of the twelve other dogs in the room were great dogs in their own right. A friendly middle-aged couple had brought their gorgeous Golden Retriever, Glory. She was an energetic blonde with wavy fur and that irresistible Golden smile. It was easy to imagine Glory leaping to grab a Frisbee or racing across the beach to take a swim.
Next to Glory was a beautifully groomed Collie with the long snout and thick tricolor fur typical of the breed. Her owner, a bookish-looking thirty-something gentleman, stroked her reassuringly. Lily was no Lassie in temperament. She trembled with fear of all the strange new surroundings, dogs, and people. Her biggest challenge during these eight weeks would be to conquer her fears. Luckily, Lily had a gentle owner with lots of patience.
Two tiny dogs were part of our group. Bonnie was a poofy white Maltese. She was yipping and playing tug-o-war with her owner over who ruled the leash. Bonnie's "mommy" was what is euphemistically called "a woman of a certain age", with blonde shoulder-length hair and fresh-looking makeup. She favored low-cut girlish tops with shorts and wedge sandals . On her petite figure the feminine outfits looked attractive. She and her fluffy dog seemed like a perfect match.
The other little dog was a nervous brown miniature Pinscher. (I later offended the owner by calling it a Chihauhau. Hey, he looked like one to me!) Mikey suffered from acute anxiety. He lay curled on his blanket with his bugged-out eyes patrolling for the dangers he seemed to imagine were looming. Mikey's owner, a very nice retired military officer, were in the class to practice for an obedience sport called "rally", whatever that was.
Next to me was a wiry black-and-brown dog who looked like a cross between Doberman and a Greyhound, but about half the size of either breed. Believe me, Jax put the Energizer Bunny to shame. With his metabolism, I'll bet he ate more than a Tibetan mastiff. If ever a dog had ADHD, it was Jax. His owner, not surprisingly, looked hot and exasperated as she hauled on the leash to keep him within a two foot radius of her chair. Jax would have been obnoxious if he hadn't been so eager to please her. He would look adoringly into her face trying so hard to be good...but then he just had to bust some moves!
Last of the memorable canine personalities was a large long-haired mutt called Ralph. Ralph had big brown eyes, a massive skull, and attitude. A DNA test might have shown him to be part Rottweiler together with who-knows-what other big furry breeds. Ralph had some aggression issues and clearly thought he had brought the nice people who lived with him to class instead of the other way around.
Now, I'd say Mr. Dean had his hands full. Wouldn't you?
Note: I am using Mr. Dean's true name and business name (The Dean's List) by permission. See "Resources" if you'd like to visit his website. The names of Toby's classmates have been changed.
Toby Goes to Kindergarten (for dogs)
Toby attracted attention everywhere he went.
As he trotted into his first obedience class with his little curly tail in the air, we were greeted with,"Awww! He's so cute!"
"How old is he?"
"What's his name?"
"What kind of dog is he?"
I quickly took a seat with Toby wiggling and squirming at my feet, trying to get close to the neighboring big dogs. The chairs were arranged in a wide circle around the perimeter of the spacious waiting area. His little black nose quivered as he absorbed all the odors of the vet office, new dogs, and different humans. As the youngest puppy in the class, Toby had a roomful of admirers.
I was doing some admiring of my own. Several of the twelve other dogs in the room were great dogs in their own right. A friendly middle-aged couple had brought their gorgeous Golden Retriever, Glory. She was an energetic blonde with wavy fur and that irresistible Golden smile. It was easy to imagine Glory leaping to grab a Frisbee or racing across the beach to take a swim.
Next to Glory was a beautifully groomed Collie with the long snout and thick tricolor fur typical of the breed. Her owner, a bookish-looking thirty-something gentleman, stroked her reassuringly. Lily was no Lassie in temperament. She trembled with fear of all the strange new surroundings, dogs, and people. Her biggest challenge during these eight weeks would be to conquer her fears. Luckily, Lily had a gentle owner with lots of patience.
Two tiny dogs were part of our group. Bonnie was a poofy white Maltese. She was yipping and playing tug-o-war with her owner over who ruled the leash. Bonnie's "mommy" was what is euphemistically called "a woman of a certain age", with blonde shoulder-length hair and fresh-looking makeup. She favored low-cut girlish tops with shorts and wedge sandals . On her petite figure the feminine outfits looked attractive. She and her fluffy dog seemed like a perfect match.
The other little dog was a nervous brown miniature Pinscher. (I later offended the owner by calling it a Chihauhau. Hey, he looked like one to me!) Mikey suffered from acute anxiety. He lay curled on his blanket with his bugged-out eyes patrolling for the dangers he seemed to imagine were looming. Mikey's owner, a very nice retired military officer, were in the class to practice for an obedience sport called "rally", whatever that was.
Next to me was a wiry black-and-brown dog who looked like a cross between Doberman and a Greyhound, but about half the size of either breed. Believe me, Jax put the Energizer Bunny to shame. With his metabolism, I'll bet he ate more than a Tibetan mastiff. If ever a dog had ADHD, it was Jax. His owner, not surprisingly, looked hot and exasperated as she hauled on the leash to keep him within a two foot radius of her chair. Jax would have been obnoxious if he hadn't been so eager to please her. He would look adoringly into her face trying so hard to be good...but then he just had to bust some moves!
Last of the memorable canine personalities was a large long-haired mutt called Ralph. Ralph had big brown eyes, a massive skull, and attitude. A DNA test might have shown him to be part Rottweiler together with who-knows-what other big furry breeds. Ralph had some aggression issues and clearly thought he had brought the nice people who lived with him to class instead of the other way around.
Now, I'd say Mr. Dean had his hands full. Wouldn't you?
Note: I am using Mr. Dean's true name and business name (The Dean's List) by permission. See "Resources" if you'd like to visit his website. The names of Toby's classmates have been changed.
"How old is he?"
"What's his name?"
"What kind of dog is he?"
I quickly took a seat with Toby wiggling and squirming at my feet, trying to get close to the neighboring big dogs. The chairs were arranged in a wide circle around the perimeter of the spacious waiting area. His little black nose quivered as he absorbed all the odors of the vet office, new dogs, and different humans. As the youngest puppy in the class, Toby had a roomful of admirers.
I was doing some admiring of my own. Several of the twelve other dogs in the room were great dogs in their own right. A friendly middle-aged couple had brought their gorgeous Golden Retriever, Glory. She was an energetic blonde with wavy fur and that irresistible Golden smile. It was easy to imagine Glory leaping to grab a Frisbee or racing across the beach to take a swim.
Next to Glory was a beautifully groomed Collie with the long snout and thick tricolor fur typical of the breed. Her owner, a bookish-looking thirty-something gentleman, stroked her reassuringly. Lily was no Lassie in temperament. She trembled with fear of all the strange new surroundings, dogs, and people. Her biggest challenge during these eight weeks would be to conquer her fears. Luckily, Lily had a gentle owner with lots of patience.
Two tiny dogs were part of our group. Bonnie was a poofy white Maltese. She was yipping and playing tug-o-war with her owner over who ruled the leash. Bonnie's "mommy" was what is euphemistically called "a woman of a certain age", with blonde shoulder-length hair and fresh-looking makeup. She favored low-cut girlish tops with shorts and wedge sandals . On her petite figure the feminine outfits looked attractive. She and her fluffy dog seemed like a perfect match.
The other little dog was a nervous brown miniature Pinscher. (I later offended the owner by calling it a Chihauhau. Hey, he looked like one to me!) Mikey suffered from acute anxiety. He lay curled on his blanket with his bugged-out eyes patrolling for the dangers he seemed to imagine were looming. Mikey's owner, a very nice retired military officer, were in the class to practice for an obedience sport called "rally", whatever that was.
Next to me was a wiry black-and-brown dog who looked like a cross between Doberman and a Greyhound, but about half the size of either breed. Believe me, Jax put the Energizer Bunny to shame. With his metabolism, I'll bet he ate more than a Tibetan mastiff. If ever a dog had ADHD, it was Jax. His owner, not surprisingly, looked hot and exasperated as she hauled on the leash to keep him within a two foot radius of her chair. Jax would have been obnoxious if he hadn't been so eager to please her. He would look adoringly into her face trying so hard to be good...but then he just had to bust some moves!
Last of the memorable canine personalities was a large long-haired mutt called Ralph. Ralph had big brown eyes, a massive skull, and attitude. A DNA test might have shown him to be part Rottweiler together with who-knows-what other big furry breeds. Ralph had some aggression issues and clearly thought he had brought the nice people who lived with him to class instead of the other way around.
Now, I'd say Mr. Dean had his hands full. Wouldn't you?
Note: I am using Mr. Dean's true name and business name (The Dean's List) by permission. See "Resources" if you'd like to visit his website. The names of Toby's classmates have been changed.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Recommended Reading - Some of my Favorite Doggie Books!
If you're visiting this blog, chances are you like reading stories about dogs. Just for fun I'd like to share some of my favorites and some titles I've enjoyed on my kindle. Some of them are even for free for kindles.
1. Merle's Door by Ted Kerasote. The very best dog book I've ever read. Hands down.
2. Amazing Gracie by Dan Dye. Gracie is the mascot/inspiration for the all natural dog treat company he founded.
3. Until Tuesday by Luis Carlos Montalvan. Heroic author - moving story of how a service dog helps this wounded warrior get his life and self-esteem back. 
4. 'Murphy' A Message to Dog Lovers by Ernest Gambier Parry. Set in another place, a long time ago. Man and dog bonds are timeless.
5. Thunder Dog by Michael Hingson. The author is blind and saved himself and many others during 9/11 because of his service dog.
6. One Good Dog by Susan Wilson
7. A Life Worth Living by Jennifer Probst
8. Timbuktu: A Novel by Paul Auster. Fiction, but brilliant rendering of the loyalty and point of view of a dog who is the companion animal of a highly intelligent homeless man.
9. A Dog Named Slugger by Leigh Brill. Author has cerebral palsy and Slugger made college, marriage, etc. possible (one of her first dates with future husband is to play fetch with the dog).
10. The Call of the Wild by Jack London. Classic, still moving and great literature to boot. 
11. White Fang by Jack London. Sort of the "opposite" of selection #10 and just as absorbing.
There you have my current top eleven :) - I'd love to hear from you if you read any of these books and like them as much as I did!
Enjoy, and if you have a recommendation for me please let me know!
There you have my current top eleven :) - I'd love to hear from you if you read any of these books and like them as much as I did!
Recommended Reading - Some of my Favorite Doggie Books!
If you're visiting this blog, chances are you like reading stories about dogs. Just for fun I'd like to share some of my favorites and some titles I've enjoyed on my kindle. Some of them are even for free for kindles.
1. Merle's Door by Ted Kerasote. The very best dog book I've ever read. Hands down.2. Amazing Gracie by Dan Dye. Gracie is the mascot/inspiration for the all natural dog treat company he founded.3. Until Tuesday by Luis Carlos Montalvan. Heroic author - moving story of how a service dog helps this wounded warrior get his life and self-esteem back. 4. 'Murphy' A Message to Dog Lovers by Ernest Gambier Parry. Set in another place, a long time ago. Man and dog bonds are timeless.5. Thunder Dog by Michael Hingson. The author is blind and saved himself and many others during 9/11 because of his service dog.6. One Good Dog by Susan Wilson7. A Life Worth Living by Jennifer Probst8. Timbuktu: A Novel by Paul Auster. Fiction, but brilliant rendering of the loyalty and point of view of a dog who is the companion animal of a highly intelligent homeless man.9. A Dog Named Slugger by Leigh Brill. Author has cerebral palsy and Slugger made college, marriage, etc. possible (one of her first dates with future husband is to play fetch with the dog).10. The Call of the Wild by Jack London. Classic, still moving and great literature to boot. 11. White Fang by Jack London. Sort of the "opposite" of selection #10 and just as absorbing.
There you have my current top eleven :) - I'd love to hear from you if you read any of these books and like them as much as I did!
Enjoy, and if you have a recommendation for me please let me know!
There you have my current top eleven :) - I'd love to hear from you if you read any of these books and like them as much as I did!
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Toby and I Start Our First Lessons
When Toby was about 12 weeks old, and we'd gotten through the first month with a few intact shoes left, the time seemed right to look around for obedience classes. I started searching the Internet and making phone calls. Most trainers were prompt in returning my call but didn't have any new classes starting for several weeks. Finally I called the trainer that SEVA GRREAT's vet recommended. I was a bit surprised when Mr. D. answered the phone - I was expecting to get his voice mail. He asked a few questions about Toby - age, breed, were there any special behavior problems? I told him that it was just usual puppy stuff. "We want to avoid bad habits and get things off to a good start," I said. I didn't want him to think Toby was a bad dog, although he was a little young to be needing obedience training. We chatted about Toby for a few more minutes and I finally 'fessed up: the real issue was that Toby seemed to imagine that he might dominate me someday.
Not everyone shares Mr. D.'s philosophy, but for me and Ted it was just what we needed to make a great pet of Toby. Mr. D believed in positive rewards like praise, treats, and play. He demonstrated the enthusiasm and joy of the praise that should be given, clapping his hands, dancing his feet, even making "kissy" noises. Some of us chuckled, but most of us were simultaneously imagining how funny we were going to look soon. He recommended purchasing a special toy that would only be offered as a reward at the end of training sessions. You don't just give it to Fido. You play with him for a few minutes. Your attention is the real reward.
But, hey. Mr. D.'s own dog, Dixie, had been lying on a grass berm next to the parking lot, attentive, but motionless, when I arrived. Mr. D. himself was in the building. He was that confident that Dixie would stay where he told her to until he called her. I couldn't imagine ever having a dog that would do that. Dixie's performance was the testimony I needed that Mr. D. knew his business. So I wrote my check, picked up my first week's instructions, and headed home to love on my puppy.
"Well, this is lucky!" Mr. Dean said happily. " I have a beginner class starting tonight!"
I was a little taken aback, but the thought of being nipped every morning ...
"Great! What time? We'll be there!"
My next surprise was that only owners attend the first lesson. I have since come to appreciate the value of an orientation class without the distraction of maintaining control of an excited dog. Mr. D. explained his training philosophy, what would happen in classes, and the importance of practice to a roomful of nervous dog owners. (It was pretty obvious which end of the leash he believed would be getting trained.) He instructed us on how to buy a "choke" collar and what kind of leash (plain, 6 ft. long) and treats (soft, broken to bits) to bring to class.
What's not to like about that? The controversial part is that wrong or bad behavior is corrected. There is another valid philosophy of dog training that is based only on positive feedback. You'll be hearing more about that on this blog as the saga of training Toby continues.
Mr. D. said over and over again, "WE DON'T CHOKE THE DOG!" Now, if you are like me, you thought that was the whole idea behind a choke collar. But Mr. Dean demonstrated the quick, not-too-hard snap on the leash that causes the collar to make a noise as the metal rings slide across each other. Dogs find that scratchy sound right behind their ears as unpleasant as fingernails on a blackboard are for us, and will quickly comply with a command or stop their misbehavior.
Mr. D. emphasized that obedience training is the key to good behavior in day-to-day family life. He used the example of asking the puppy to sit before he gets his dinner. Having yummy kibble resulting from obedience leads to the puppy thinking at other times, "Hmm, obeying that lady gets me dinner. I think I'll get off the couch since she told me to." In my situation, that sounded pretty darned fantastic - really, as in a fantasy! I looked around and saw a kind of wistful disbelief on the other owners' faces too.
 |
| A fuzzy blur in perpetual motion! |
But, hey. Mr. D.'s own dog, Dixie, had been lying on a grass berm next to the parking lot, attentive, but motionless, when I arrived. Mr. D. himself was in the building. He was that confident that Dixie would stay where he told her to until he called her. I couldn't imagine ever having a dog that would do that. Dixie's performance was the testimony I needed that Mr. D. knew his business. So I wrote my check, picked up my first week's instructions, and headed home to love on my puppy.
Toby and I Start Our First Lessons
When Toby was about 12 weeks old, and we'd gotten through the first month with a few intact shoes left, the time seemed right to look around for obedience classes. I started searching the Internet and making phone calls. Most trainers were prompt in returning my call but didn't have any new classes starting for several weeks. Finally I called the trainer that SEVA GRREAT's vet recommended. I was a bit surprised when Mr. D. answered the phone - I was expecting to get his voice mail. He asked a few questions about Toby - age, breed, were there any special behavior problems? I told him that it was just usual puppy stuff. "We want to avoid bad habits and get things off to a good start," I said. I didn't want him to think Toby was a bad dog, although he was a little young to be needing obedience training. We chatted about Toby for a few more minutes and I finally 'fessed up: the real issue was that Toby seemed to imagine that he might dominate me someday.
Not everyone shares Mr. D.'s philosophy, but for me and Ted it was just what we needed to make a great pet of Toby. Mr. D believed in positive rewards like praise, treats, and play. He demonstrated the enthusiasm and joy of the praise that should be given, clapping his hands, dancing his feet, even making "kissy" noises. Some of us chuckled, but most of us were simultaneously imagining how funny we were going to look soon. He recommended purchasing a special toy that would only be offered as a reward at the end of training sessions. You don't just give it to Fido. You play with him for a few minutes. Your attention is the real reward.
But, hey. Mr. D.'s own dog, Dixie, had been lying on a grass berm next to the parking lot, attentive, but motionless, when I arrived. Mr. D. himself was in the building. He was that confident that Dixie would stay where he told her to until he called her. I couldn't imagine ever having a dog that would do that. Dixie's performance was the testimony I needed that Mr. D. knew his business. So I wrote my check, picked up my first week's instructions, and headed home to love on my puppy.
"Well, this is lucky!" Mr. Dean said happily. " I have a beginner class starting tonight!"
I was a little taken aback, but the thought of being nipped every morning ...
"Great! What time? We'll be there!"
My next surprise was that only owners attend the first lesson. I have since come to appreciate the value of an orientation class without the distraction of maintaining control of an excited dog. Mr. D. explained his training philosophy, what would happen in classes, and the importance of practice to a roomful of nervous dog owners. (It was pretty obvious which end of the leash he believed would be getting trained.) He instructed us on how to buy a "choke" collar and what kind of leash (plain, 6 ft. long) and treats (soft, broken to bits) to bring to class.
What's not to like about that? The controversial part is that wrong or bad behavior is corrected. There is another valid philosophy of dog training that is based only on positive feedback. You'll be hearing more about that on this blog as the saga of training Toby continues.
Mr. D. said over and over again, "WE DON'T CHOKE THE DOG!" Now, if you are like me, you thought that was the whole idea behind a choke collar. But Mr. Dean demonstrated the quick, not-too-hard snap on the leash that causes the collar to make a noise as the metal rings slide across each other. Dogs find that scratchy sound right behind their ears as unpleasant as fingernails on a blackboard are for us, and will quickly comply with a command or stop their misbehavior.
Mr. D. emphasized that obedience training is the key to good behavior in day-to-day family life. He used the example of asking the puppy to sit before he gets his dinner. Having yummy kibble resulting from obedience leads to the puppy thinking at other times, "Hmm, obeying that lady gets me dinner. I think I'll get off the couch since she told me to." In my situation, that sounded pretty darned fantastic - really, as in a fantasy! I looked around and saw a kind of wistful disbelief on the other owners' faces too.
|
| A fuzzy blur in perpetual motion! |
But, hey. Mr. D.'s own dog, Dixie, had been lying on a grass berm next to the parking lot, attentive, but motionless, when I arrived. Mr. D. himself was in the building. He was that confident that Dixie would stay where he told her to until he called her. I couldn't imagine ever having a dog that would do that. Dixie's performance was the testimony I needed that Mr. D. knew his business. So I wrote my check, picked up my first week's instructions, and headed home to love on my puppy.
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