I'm back!
My apologies to my many (haha) fans. I seem to have dropped the habit of writing, though I constantly run through my head what I'd write here if I were writing here.
So, T didn't buy a motorcycle after all, and boy did I heave a relieved sigh, even though I ended up spending lots more than anticipated to get him a car. I can see it as saving on hospital bills? Maybe.
I've slowly come around to being sterner with Charly. Gotta civilize this bitch! She just keeps getting taller and crazier. I'm fighting my own internal battle against a deep reluctance to take on the role of boss. No, I will not say pack leader, because two is not a pack and we are not wolves anyhow. I'm learning that one cannot just decide to be kinda sorta bossy. One either is or isn't. I am coming to terms with the power of prongs as I struggle to use them correctly. I'm armed with the puppy book by the monks of New Skete, reinforced by periodic scoldings from cousin Hooly when I waffle, and instead of reading it I'm studying one bit at a time.
Charly (after one shocking day of flying through the air on leash and being jerked back to reality) is near perfect in the back yard. Once or twice daily we have a brief session in the back yard and then go around the block, where the challenge is to keep her mind on me in the face of barking dogs, lolling cats, dawdling crows, noisy trucks, nattering children, and friendly people with or without a dog on leash. My temper was sorely challenged by the evaporation of any response to "sit"! Don't get angry, I repeated silently, just tap or push down her butt and praise her until she transfers the info to the new setting.
My next issue was, well, she doesn't have to really walk at heel so long as she isn't dragging me behind her. Today I faced up to and squashed my tendency to be happy if she doesn't actually pull but just feels the end of the leash. When this happens, she is of course out in front of me and not paying any attention to me. Repeated jerks have no effect but to make her neck sore and me feel guilty. I was dubious of the monks' approach, but it does actually work. Just make a negative sound (nyah, no, etc.) and a corrective snap (without getting angry) and immediately reverse direction. She doesn't particular enjoy her neck being jabbed, so she starts keeping an eye on my feet to anticipate changes, which means she has to stay where she can see them, beside me on the slack leash. And she's getting it. Amazing.
Now I'm going to be late for yoga if I don't get off and change clothes and go. But I'll be back sooner than you think.
So, T didn't buy a motorcycle after all, and boy did I heave a relieved sigh, even though I ended up spending lots more than anticipated to get him a car. I can see it as saving on hospital bills? Maybe.
I've slowly come around to being sterner with Charly. Gotta civilize this bitch! She just keeps getting taller and crazier. I'm fighting my own internal battle against a deep reluctance to take on the role of boss. No, I will not say pack leader, because two is not a pack and we are not wolves anyhow. I'm learning that one cannot just decide to be kinda sorta bossy. One either is or isn't. I am coming to terms with the power of prongs as I struggle to use them correctly. I'm armed with the puppy book by the monks of New Skete, reinforced by periodic scoldings from cousin Hooly when I waffle, and instead of reading it I'm studying one bit at a time.
Charly (after one shocking day of flying through the air on leash and being jerked back to reality) is near perfect in the back yard. Once or twice daily we have a brief session in the back yard and then go around the block, where the challenge is to keep her mind on me in the face of barking dogs, lolling cats, dawdling crows, noisy trucks, nattering children, and friendly people with or without a dog on leash. My temper was sorely challenged by the evaporation of any response to "sit"! Don't get angry, I repeated silently, just tap or push down her butt and praise her until she transfers the info to the new setting.
My next issue was, well, she doesn't have to really walk at heel so long as she isn't dragging me behind her. Today I faced up to and squashed my tendency to be happy if she doesn't actually pull but just feels the end of the leash. When this happens, she is of course out in front of me and not paying any attention to me. Repeated jerks have no effect but to make her neck sore and me feel guilty. I was dubious of the monks' approach, but it does actually work. Just make a negative sound (nyah, no, etc.) and a corrective snap (without getting angry) and immediately reverse direction. She doesn't particular enjoy her neck being jabbed, so she starts keeping an eye on my feet to anticipate changes, which means she has to stay where she can see them, beside me on the slack leash. And she's getting it. Amazing.
Now I'm going to be late for yoga if I don't get off and change clothes and go. But I'll be back sooner than you think.
posted by Cranky Ol' Lady at 4:29 PM
1 Comments:
I had to do that little make-a-quick-turnaround with Ed a lot. He always insisted on walking ahead of me. You can't let her do that. Another thing that helped with Ed was, and is, to talk to him here and there while we are walking. I tell him he is a good boy, we are having fun, etc, and it helps him remember I am there and in charge. His first teacher taught us to teach our dogs to look at us. So one way to get his attention is say"Ed, look at me." and he does, even while walking. I'm so glad she (you) is/are making progress!
Post a Comment
<< Home