A fellow dog gal in Wyoming recently wrote to an online group about friends not really getting the positive training work she’s doing with her dogs. They also are very critical of
people who try (and often succeed) to rehabilitate so-called “aggressive” dogs. It comes back the question I raised recently about people telling me to give up on Lilly. …
While sorting through some archived photos, I came across this one of Ginko from March 2003. We’d had an incredible blizzard that dumped like 5-6 feet of snow very quickly. We were
stranded at home for about a week. That’s how long it took to clear our football-field-long driveway. …
Lilly is both the noisiest dog I’ve ever had and the most silent. Lately, it seems, every time I turn around … there she is under foot. I bet I’ve stepped on her more in the last
month than I have in the last 3 years. And, I’m not sure why. …
Last weekend, we had a prolonged storm, where snow kept coming for several days in a row. Since the roads were somewhat clear Sunday afternoon, Lilly and I ventured out to class in
Boulder, which for us is a pretty long drive. On the way home, we narrowly missed getting in a VERY BAD car accident. …
Last week, a fellow dog gal caused a bit of a stir when she complained online about a strange woman at the dog park verbally and physically correcting her very sensitive dog. The woman
made high-pitched greeting, so the dog jumped up on her. Granted some people accept that more than others, but this woman used what many consider old-fashioned, punitive tactics (yes, those touted on
TV). She completely scared the dog, who is now highly sensitized to similar looking people and the dog park. …
Thanksgiving weekend Lilly came unglued while playing outside. We had our usual game of fetch going in the middle pasture. As she ran toward the fence to get her ball, she stopped dead
in her tracks. The hair on her neck and her butt stood on end. She growled and crouched and slunk. It wasn’t that our neighbors were working on the fence. She didn’t care about 2 men being so close.
Something else caught her eye, and she would NOT relent. …
I like to think I’m pretty self-aware. I know why I am the way I am. And, I think I know my motivation. Yet … if I had a nickel for every time someone questions my motivation for continuing to work and hope with Lilly, I’d be a rich girl, who could quit her job and just be a full-time puppy mom. Now, I really do think about the why and how of everything I do with Lilly, but for some reason, it always catches me off guard a bit when someone suggests I give up, back off, step back, stop trying so hard.
My grandmother’s house, which for all the usual purposes was my “childhood home,” had a round traffic pattern. As a kid, I could run from kitchen to front room to hall to den to
kitchen. When you’re little, that’s some serious fun. Well, my current house also has a couple of round-running spots. I’ve started using the carpeted one upstairs to practice high-speed heeling (and
frankly to burn off some energy). …
There is one truth that rings clear when training Lilly. If what I’m asking makes sense, she catches on very quickly. Sometimes, it’s just 3-5 clicks. Sometimes, it’s just 10 minutes. And, she’s totally on board. Other times, I’m clearly doing something wrong, and she simply doesn’t get it.
There is something about the angle of the sun when Lilly and I walk in the morning that casts a funny shadow. You know those cartoon wolves or coyotes that are always sneaking up so
that all you see is their shadow approaching? Well, that’s what Lilly’s shadow looks like to me, at times. I like to pretend that it’s a reflection of her true, more confident self. I may have
written about this before, but this time I have photos. See what you think. …
