Despite being a dog owner for the past 20 years, I’ll never claim to be the Dog Whisperer. Just when I think I’ve trained my dogs to be well-behaved, I come home from work to find one of my shoes chewed beyond recognition by my 5-month-old puppy, Ernie, or trash from last night’s dinner scattered throughout the living room while my 4-year-old golden retriever, Dixie, looks up at me with her big, brown, guilt-ridden eyes.
Then there’s Bear. I adopted this German shepherd mix in 2006. Although he was only about 6 months old at the time, two different owners previously gave up on him and brought him back to the shelter. But the moment I saw him seemingly smiling at me as he wiggled his entire rear end while wagging his tail, I knew I had to have him.
To this day, I still sometimes stop and try to think of what reasons there possibly could’ve been for someone to get rid of Bear. Although he may not be as smart as Dixie and Ernie, when we had family visiting a few days ago, Bear was the only one of the three not to incessantly bark, lick, jump or otherwise annoy our guests. Of course, there are times when Bear is just as mischievous as the others. So for one day at least, I was proud of his exemplary behavior.
Now, if I get home tonight and find him eating something he’s not supposed to, maybe I’ll finally give up my futile dog training efforts and turn to the List for a professional.
Archive for the 'animal training' Category
With the push of his nose or the slap of his paw, my 8-month-old Rottweiler Moto can open the sliding glass door. He thinks it’s a new trick; I think he’s a bad boy. There are evenings when he lets himself out (very helpful) but lets mosquitoes in. If only he learned to shut the door behind him, I’d be thrilled with his self-sufficiency. Continue reading ‘You’re either in or you’re out!’
I don’t have a pet.
Shocking, I know — especially if you’re a faithful reader of the Blue House Blog. It may seem that everyone here has a furry companion waiting on the stoop when they get home. And that perception would be fairly accurate. I think I am one of maybe three magazine staffers who is sans critter. But (guilt) I’m OK with that.
Not that there hasn’t been ample opportunity to adopt the seemingly endless supply of strays that wander
through the neighborhood. I think the word is out among street dogs; “Want a home? Go to the Blue House. There are still three people inside that don’t have dogs yet.” It wouldn’t surprise me to find them all lined up outside the door one morning. Sitting there, all combed and smiling, begging for a family. Continue reading ‘Outnumbered’
In college, I adopted two mixed-breed dogs from the Monroe County Humane Association in Bloomington, Indiana. I named the sisters Aja and Diva (that’s Aja’s nose shot, and Diva playing hide-n-seek — her favorite game), and I thought I knew what I was doing while raising and teaching them. Eight years later I finally realize they weren’t the only ones who had a lot to learn. Continue reading ‘The power of pawsitive reinforcement’
