May 9, 2013
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Random Observations of Not Much
IN 2009 I wrote a post about electronic cigarettes. I have received more comments on that particular post than almost any other. There’s a word for that, which I have forgotten: there are people who troll the Internet, looking for blogging posts that in some vague way mention, allude to or could be construed to allude to a product they are trying to sell, and they then comment on the post and use that comment as a link to create more links that lead to the sale of their product. It has nothing to do with my skills at blogging.
I have a friend who smokes electronic cigarettes, incidentally. As I watch her with her ‘pack’ and her little bag she keeps all of her tools in, I remember: yes, smoking was all about the ritual. I miss the ritual of lighting a cigarette, even after all these years. I knew I would probably never lapse back into smoking the day I gave myself permission to buy a lighter whenever the mood struck. They’re what–a dollar? Maybe two? Nothing compared to the cost of smoking itself. Besides, whenever the urge to ‘slip’ strikes, I just wander on down to the pharmacy and buy another inhaler. Although, truth be told, I still cuddle up next to an honest-to-God smoker in discreetly sniff his exhaust.
Where were we? Nancy, Annie and I went to Annie’s second intermediate obedience class (this round) last night. I took her into the store. We walked up to the classroom, the door opened, and 47 puppies came out. Holly was in front of us before I could even focus my attention, and while Annie was deeply interested in the puppies, Holly kept her distracted from them and focused on us enough to prevent…really, even a growl.
Halfway through our class we switched from a short lead to a 20 foot leash and while I was doing this I dropped the leash altogether and Annie danced across the classroom to greet Diesel, the black lab-mix puppy. He’s about 10 months old, a little on the shy side…everything that sets Annie off. I’m fumbling like an idiot and Holly managed to get to her, but she never really offered to do anything but sniff him. Baby steps, but steps nonetheless.
Nancy talked to the trainers about the barking we have been dealing with, and they suggested an electronic bark inhibitor. It’s a box you set up in a room and when the dog starts to bark, the machine sends out a noise we can’t hear and they won’t like. They’ll learn to associate their barking with the noise and hopefully they’ll stop barking. We’ll try it. A few months back I bought a citrus spray collar for her to kick back some of her barking. It never worked. I took it back. But it didn’t work because it literally didn’t spray any citrus.
Besides, Annie likes citrus.
I get frustrated and I forget, but we HAVE made progress. Annie walked around the store with me last night on a loose leash for quite a while instead of jerking and pulling me all of the time. She is a model for ‘sit’ and ‘down’ (doesn’t like ‘stay’ so much.) We played a game where we put our dogs into a sit and them another classmate walked past us, practicing ‘heel’. With a Lickety Stick Annie is a completely focused model for ‘heel’ (or, at the very least, ‘lick’) and she sat and ignored the other classmates walking past her. I was actually surprised at how well she did, particularly because she was tired and specifically she was tired of ‘sit’ and got this bored, ‘what-if-I-just-stand-here-and-ignore-all-of-you’ expression on her face.
‘Sit’? Really? Go ahead, have at it–why don’t you sit?
The problem dog who would have tested all of the progress we have made was unable to attend the class due to an illness in the family. This is both good and bad. Good we don’t have to spend an entire class avoiding bloodshed, bad that we don’t have the obstacle to work through.
So I will say this. If Annie belonged to someone experienced with owning a terrier, she would be a well-behaved dog by now. I can see that in the way she responds to Holly. Either Annie is extremely smart and a quick learner, or we are busily teaching her commands and lessons she’s already learned.The one example that sticks out most clearly in my mind is the hand command for ‘sit’. I had a certain difficulty making my hand do that. So I was standing there, practicing my hand command and I glanced down and Annie was sitting. Watching me with that, “What’s next?” look. I’ll swear she also knew the hand command for ‘down’. She also appears to have a very clear idea what ‘heel’ means (although again, she could be confusing it with ‘lick’.) Nancy and I are taking the lessons. Annie is merely our guide.
Today is the day ‘that thing’ happens. I have no idea what it’s called. All of the grade school children gather up in groups and stride around town, talking as loud as they possibly can. I had no idea this even happened until I retired–I believe Murphy brought it to my attention–but it happens every year, and today is the day. It’s really very exciting: the kids are all talking and as they get closer and closer to the house, their voices get louder and louder… Annie boofed and took off for the back door at a dead run, but when I went out with treats to distract the dogs, they were easy enough to distract. Let’s see, food versus a pack of loud, strange children… Let’s do the food, Riley.
Okay. An exercise in faith. I have mentioned this before, but Riley loves kids, particularly toddlers. I will probably never test this, but I believe a toddler could poke his eyes, stick their fingers in his ears and wave his head back and forth by sticking their fists in his mouth and he would never harm her. He would be more likely to bite an adult human than a baby. Annie, on the other hand, is not entirely sure of herself around children. They confuse her. They move too fast, which makes her nervous. So Diesel comes to class with two adults and two children, a little girl about six and a boy younger than she is. Both of them immediately wanted to pet Annie, so Annie and I stood still and allowed this to happen. I’m not sure about this, Cheryl, Annie said.
“You’re fine.”
Later during class the little girl decided she wanted to pet Annie again and someone told her not to. So–being a six year-old–she realized no one was watching her, and she snaked her hand out for a quick pet.
I wanted to say, “Oh, honey, whatever you do, don’t do that.” I didn’t. Perhaps I should have.
Annie flinched, but otherwise didn’t react very much.
The problem–much like my dropping the leash in the middle of the class–is the difference between Annie’s reaction time and mine. I could see it all happen in real time, but if Annie had decided to nip the child, could I have prevented it? Oh, hell no. And I don’t want to tense up because that travels right down the leash to the dog. Annie would have had the kid down on the floor and bleeding from the ears by the time it occurred to me to move. And it’s not that I think my dog would hurt a child: it’s that I’m just not…sure.
I keep a close eye on Riley when kids are around–but I trust him. (Frankly, it’s the kids I don’t trust. Kids do some really stupid shit.)
Before going to class yesterday I was in Walmart and I stopped by buy some yellow ribbon to tie a bow on Annie’s leash. According to some people on facebook, it tells (some) people the dog is in training, has medical issues or needs not to have people grabbing at it all of the time. It means (politely) please don’t pet my dog. But of course ribbon, yellow or otherwise, is sold by the yard at Walmart by employees who were laid off two years ago so you can admire it all you want, but heaven help you if you actually want to buy any of it…
So we have our work cut out for us. Stay. New command: “Settle’. And we need to work on ‘heel’ (vs ‘lick’). Nancy said she woke up this morning thinking, “I have to work with that dog today….”
