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On Christmas day, we received just under a foot of snow. It doesn’t sound like much, but the snow downed so many power lines that roughly 190,000 homes were without electric. Our power went out on Christmas Eve. We didn’t worry a great deal. The power goes out frequently here, and we expected it to … Continue reading
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Ronnie is a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Nickname: Sir Prancelot
Betty is always a little wired. Nickname: Goofus-Head; Crazy Girl
Nemo’s the boss. Nickname: Mr. Slick; Puttin’ Tat
I am just learning to use the video option on my camera. Of course, “my kids” are my stars. 
Last week, I wasn’t sure whether Betty enjoyed dog school or not. Most of the time, her face was non-committal. She whined and wagged her tail at the other dogs, and seemed annoyed at having to work when there was so much potential fun just a few feet in either direction.
Yesterday, In preparation for class, I pulled out the cooler. In it I placed cold packs and Zip-loc bags of cooked chicken, microwaved hotdog slices, and chips of sharp cheese. Also a couple of bottles of cold water and a folding dog bowl. And Betty knew. She started grinning and pacing; poking the leash (on a shelf by the door) with her nose.
This time, she was able to focus on her work, and spent much of the time looking up at me with a smile on her face.
During the last class, she was hesitant to be around the instructor, but this time greeted her as though she was a good friend. And she was calm enough with the other dogs that she was able to make a few acquaintances.
One mom seemed unsure whether or not to allow her dog near mine, when Betty started wheezing. Sometimes, especially when she’s laying on her back or if she becomes excited, Betty sucks back saliva and it starts a spasm that can go on for some time. I’ve found that rubbing the fur behind her shoulder blades and over her neck forward, while rubbing her chest backwards helps her to relax, and that stops the spasms.
At the end of the class, we started doing stays and short recalls (you invite your dog to come). Betty sat in a stay, her chest poked out. I called and she trotted to me, sat in front of me, and looked me in the eye.
“Wow,” said one woman told me, “That was really good. Your dog is amazing!”
I think Betty’s amazing too – one of the smartest dogs we’ve had – but told the woman that I’d trained two dogs before. “I’m not an expert, but I’ve been working with her at home.”
It was also the first time that Ronnie has been left alone in the house with the cat for any length of time. I wasn’t sure what to expect. He does like to pull the tablecloth onto the floor. We’ve tried to train him away from this by booby-trapping the table, setting several plastic cups of ice water along the table’s edge to surprise him when they fall. But so far, he’s been too smart to fall for it.
He also likes to pull socks from the drying rack and scatter then around the living room, and to tear up newspaper. He tore he cover from one of my husband’s books, and there’s a comforter that’s gradually becoming de-stuffed. But we’ve been working on correcting these problems, and at some point, you have to hope for the best and give the dog a chance to succeed.
Before I left, I filled a Kong toy with cookies, and gave him a rawhide, hoping these would entertain him. And when I came back, everything was in its place. Once I check the rooms, if I find everything is where it should be, I look at him and say, “Were you a good boy while I was gone?” He jumps onto my legs, wagging his tail.
Ronnie the cardigan corgi has started obedience training at the Little Rock Dog Training Club.
I feel lucky that the class he’s enrolled in doesn’t contain one aggressive dog. I took our two previous dogs to training, and we completed several courses. But no aggressive animals is a first.
All of the dogs were wagging their tails and grinning from ear to ear.
Ronnie already knew sit, and I’d just started teaching him down. But come-to-heel was new, and he didn’t understand. “Oh well,” I’ll train it at home.
The next day, I put Ronnie in a crate and let him watch as I worked Betty. Then places were switched and it was Ronnie’s turn.
But after multiple attempts, he still didn’t get it. However, simply by watching Betty, he did learn to play dead. When I make my fingers into a gun and say Bang, Betty falls over and lies still. Now Ronnie rolls onto his back and lies still – except for his tail, which swishes back and forth.
Today, we tried again. For breakfast, both dogs received half-portions. Then later I pulled out some cooked chicken. Betty went into the crate, and was rewarded with Ronnie whenever he did something right.
I asked Ronnie to heel, and he flopped over dead. So I asked him to sit, and he got back up.
“Heel.”
Grinning, he flopped down, paws in the air.
“Sit. Good dog.” Piece of chicken. “Heel.”
Slowly, ears back and grinning, he came to my side. He looked at me hesitantly. “Is this what you want?”
“Hurray!” He got lots of chicken and praise. He heeled a few more times, and we let Betty out of the crate.
As I left to clean up the kitchen, Ronnie trotted over to me, sat down, and looked up. “Can we do more,” he seemed to say.
But not today. Let’s end on success.
Ronnie, our cardigan corgi, invites Betty to play.
Betty jumps at the invitation.
Ronnie looks ferocious; tells her he’s the man.
Betty says, “I’m helpless against your wolfish powers.”
Yesterday I went outside and called the dogs. Betty came right away. Ronnie loitered in the bushes. I went over to see what was delaying him, and he stepped out with a baby bunny in his jaws. “Drop it!” I picked the bunny up. Its eyes were open; dazed. Its fur was wet and matted. … Continue reading
I wake up to Ronnie growling playfully as he rolls in his bed, and the cat purring in my ear. The plan is to have a relaxed breakfast and then go to church. But before long, Sam’s standing at the toaster, complaining that it isn’t browning the bread enough. So he sets it higher, and … Continue reading
