It’s a miracle. For the first time in what feels like forever, it did NOT snow on a Sunday. So, Lilly and I went to our group pet obedience class with Gigi. Maybe it was the sunshine. Maybe it was the squirrels in the trees. But, we had a great day. I mean GREAT!
For those catching up, this drop-in class meets in a different place each week so that the dogs learn to work in a variety of challenging locations. Sometimes it’s a park. Sometimes it’s a store. Sometimes it’s along a busy, public path. Sometimes it’s at a dog park.
The class is just pet obedience, not agility, but it is a group class, and it’s the only class we’ve kept throughout all the drama because it’s the ONE place Lilly has more or less consistently worked well.
This week, we met at a park we’d not been to before along Boulder Creek. Lilly and I arrived early to get acclimated. We walked around the grassy areas. We looked at other dogs basking in the sun. We looked at kids playing on the playground. We did a little Premack work with the squirrels, where Lilly got to look at them and jump at the base of trees, in exchange for doing what I ask. She even did some tricks for a grandma and grandson we came across. She did not seem scared at all.
Squirrels tend to help in that vein. We do not have them at home, so if she knows they are around, that’s pretty much all she thinks about. In other words, it keeps her from worrying about other things. It also dilutes her focus on me, but sometimes that’s a tradeoff I’ll take.
Here are the highlights from class:
While in a down-stay while other dogs took turns heeling around the group, PJ (one of the other reactive dogs in class) got really close to us and bent down to sniff Lilly’s front feet. We’ve never let PJ and Lilly interact, but he often shows interest in her.
Us girls were looking at something else, so we didn’t see it coming. When Lilly felt his face near her feet, she looked at him, then at me — her face never shifted from a happy, I’m-at-the-park face. She did not care one iota.
PJ’s daddy apologized for letting him get so close, which is very nice, but no harm, no foul. Lilly handled it perfectly.
Later, while we were walking through a tunnel and up some steeper hiking trails, a big German Shepherd we haven’t seen at class for a long time, also put his face right next to Lilly a few times. And, she totally did not care. We were loose-leash walking. The dogs were essentially side by side, very close, and if she stopped to sniff something, he would too.
His handler remembers the days when Lilly was snarking at any dog that moved, so she was nice enough to say how much progress we’ve made. I think it’s easier to see improvement when you only see the old then the new. It’s probably been a year since she’s seen us. Still, it was nice to hear.
Later we practiced some easy recalls, where Lilly was slow, but otherwise fine. There was a lot of catcus around, so I think she was just being cautious.
Then, came the hard stuff. We were working on what I call WHOA, which means stop where you are. We often do this while facing our dogs, but this week we were working on hiking manners, where perhaps your dog is ahead of you and you want it to stop because there is danger or maybe she’s getting too far ahead.
With the right dog license, you can hike off leash in some areas here. Personally, I don’t hike with Lilly off leash because she has such a strong flee response when something scares her. Plus, where we typically go there are a LOT of rattlesnakes, and I prefer to keep her close to me.
But, the WHOA is a handy skill. It’s really, really hard to teach though. If you’ve trained this and have a way that works, holler.
At one point, we let Lilly hike out ahead (with encouragement) so that the German Shepherd had something to focus on before getting his cue to stop. Yes … I used my girl as bait, but I trust this dog. And, Lilly pretty much does too.
She only licked her lips a couple times, when he was gaining speed behind her. Otherwise, when he would stop as asked, she would turn to me and get all wiggly, like, “Did you see how brave I was?”
Maybe I’m just giddy from the tiny glimpse of spring, but it was a good day. I’ll take it!
Thanks, Lisa, for the idea. I’ve always thought that you’d have to be very brave (or some kind of crazy … grin) to skijor. I’m bad enough on cross country skis by myself. I cannot imagine being attached to one of the dogs.
But, I might be able to hook Lilly’s long training lead to me and walk around the pasture to see if that helps.
When there’s some visual marker, like a doorway or stairs or gate, it’s easier for her to use that as an additional cue to stop. I use WAIT in those situations, but I’m usually right there with her. I reserve WHOA for when she’s out away from me, and I really want her to stop where she is and not return to me.
The hard part is that she’s often quite clingy, so it’s hard to get her to move away from me.
Thanks for the idea, though. Here’s hoping for both our sakes that spring comes soon!
Glad to hear about the great class this week! And how nice to get some positive comments from your old classmate, a good reminder of the progess you and Lilly have made.
My dog Walter learned “whoa” in no time flat. He learned it the hard way while skijoring. I fell very often when first learning to skijor and during every fall I’d instinctively yell out “whoa”. He learned really fast that “whoa” means we’re stopping *now*. However, I highly doubt it would be effective when he’s not wearing attached to me by some kind of line and/or when there’s some kind of enticement ahead of him!
Congrats to both you and Lilly. Sounds like some fabulous progress.
I remember teaching Cody ‘Whoa’ (or ‘Wait’ as I call it) in obedience class but it was so long ago I can’t for the life of me remember how. We worked on it in Strummer’s class too and I didn’t like the method they were using so never pursued it. Sorry, I’m no help.