Catie showed a marked wilfulness from her first leash walk. Halfway down the block, the little bundle of fur sat down on her fluffy butt and refused to move. I tried animated encouragement which quickly disintegrated into a demeaning, whiny sort of pleading. I tried gentle tugging, insistent tugging, no tugging. She simply looked at me with an expression that clearly said: “I don’t think so!”
So, like all earnest dog guardians, when she was old enough, my husband and I took her off to puppy classes. We’d read about the importance of obedience training to establish the household hierarchy, enhance good behaviour, teach manners and encourage socialization, all towards raising a disciplined dog.
Ha.
First off, she was unexpectedly, painfully timid in the classroom. Each weekly Saturday morning excursion proved as traumatic as the last. Each time we moved, she swam towards the door with her tail between her legs. She spat out her treats. She sat on our feet.
The instructor shook her head.
“That’s not normal behaviour for a golden,” she said. She was a peculiar lady who didn’t feed her dog anything without taste-testing first and proved it by chewing on a bacon-flavoured jerky stick. She passed the bag around for the rest of us to try.
The whole enterprise was a disaster.
Riley had none of the same inhibitions. Any opportunity to share himself with the world was met with wholehearted enthusiasm. Unfortunately, this natural inclination for gregariousness didn’t bode well for serious lesson learning. He whimpered. He whined. He wanted only to play. He and an equally sociable Giant Schnauzer had to have time-outs and stand, on more than one occasion, in opposite corners with their muzzles to the wall along with their sheepish guardians.
On test day, he managed to focus long enough to pass.
Naturally, with these past training successes – and since my husband is very irked that I refuse to go into the garage any more since I took out the mice-riddled garbage bags – it occurred to me that I could teach Catie and Riley to be mousers.
I introduced two mouse-models. Riley made a half-hearted investigation. The most life-like of the duo was given the most cursory sniff. Not the ferocious approach I was hoping for.
Catie looked at me. She raised an eyebrow. I knew exactly what she was telling me.
FYI!
The furkids are just waiting for you to taste test a real mouse before they venture into mouseland, mom! And I’m with the instructor if you really loved them, you would! BWAHAHAHAHAH
And that’s not going to be happening, cometdog. LOL
HA !!! Carmen … too funny. Riley will be inviting those new little playmates into your house in no time – given the opportunity – and apparent blessing – from you to engage them ! I don’t recommend a visual demonstration ….
Want to borrow a cat?? Wolfie could come right over – he loves mice (in an appropriate cat-like manner) – and he loves Goldies ! It’s purrfect !
Tana
Coat the garage intruders with peanut butter! Every self respecting dog loves peanut butter!
Major
Mousers? Goldens? Ya right!! We are way too good for those little critters! Rhys and I would love to investigate that mouse model! He looks like a good chew toy! Maybe if you could catch one of the real mice and strap some treats to his back Catie and Riley would be more interested in catching those rodents?? Just a thought 🙂 !
XOXO and hi-paws
Dillon and Rhys