Dog days are coming

The temperature may be plummeting toward zero, but the dog days lie just ahead. Next Wednesday evening, my sister Barbara and I will load up her blue heeler, Pita, and my Border Collie, Kiwi, along with the proper 6-foot leash, a chain choker (not intended to strangle pooches), a bagful of treats and a mindful of "Do's and Don't's" at doggie obedience school.

The folks at Green Meadow Kennels have created a model that school teachers should study. They don't let the dogs come to the first lesson. Instead, only their owners, and the teacher's pet, a shiny black German Short Hair named Royal owned by instructor Glenna, were allowed at class last night. Imagine the difference if all parents were required to show up on the first day of school BEFORE their kids met the teacher.

The object of this nearly dogless session focused on orientation and expectations. For example, we're not supposed to bring along half a dozen kids to be let loose to roam, cavort or distract the training sessions. I don't need to worry about that. I don't think I could round up half a dozen neighbor kids here in Selle to accompany me.

We're also not supposed to let our pooches sniff each other's pooches. Barbara and I should be okay with Pita and Kiwi cuz they usually do minimal sniffing and then get right into mauling each other. Twice now, Kiwi's ended up with blood spatters all over her body, thanks to Pita.

Of course, the fact that Pita has lost a few baby teeth while relentlessly tugging away at Kiwi's neck flaps might have something to do with that. One time, upon close inspection of Pita's blood work, Barbara found a bloody tooth that had decided to stay on Kiwi rather than taking up a spot under Pita's pillow for the canine tooth fairy's visit.

We're not supposed to school our dogs on the day of schooling either. The teacher wants their full attention with their minds empty and ready for fulfillment. Maybe real school teachers need to look at that one when they assign way too much homework for a kid to learn anything the next day.

We got the complete orientation last night from Glenna, who seems to have lots of experience working with lots of dogs and their owners. All the while, Royal checked us all out and melted the hearts all dog owners in the room with his loving brown eyes.

He occasionally demonstrated some things Glenna figures our dogs are going to learn like heeling, staying, waiting and sitting. He also modeled some things all dogs need to unlearn, such as putting those two front feet up on Glenna's lap numerous times and looking deep into her eyes when Glenna really preferred that the feet would remain on the floor.

But Glenna didn't seem to mind much cuz it's obvious she loves her dog. I liked the fact that she realizes we all love our dogs and don't want to turn them into some kind of heartless machines that respond to commands like a well-trained soldier.

I like the part about the treats. We learned they should come in small pieces because during learning time, we don't want the dogs to spend five minutes chewing on a turkey leg. They get distracted. So, bites the size of a penny seem to be the best. I also like the part about the treats cuz I used that technique during my last five years of teaching humans.

My drawer was always full, and the kids knew it. After all, that psychology lesson on Pavlov's dog had left an imprint, and when I couldn't get kids to bring a notebook, let alone answer a question, the chocolate treasures did the trick. Hands were up all the time from that point on. Kids and dogs are not stupid. They've heard that Pavlov story too.

Next week when we take our dogs, we're supposed to have done some homework on all days leading to class day. Our assignment, besides spending about $50 on equipment, is to work on heeling. If we can get our dogs to heel next to our left side, that will be a good start. Glenna says it's also a good way to gradually teach Kiwi to quit French kissing me and everyone she meets.

She suggests that when I get her to heel next to me, I can then reach down and pet her. Once Kiwi decides to plant a juicy show of affection smack dab in the middle of my mouth, I'm to quit petting, turn away and ignore her until she gets the idea that canine French kissing stops all human lovey dovey. Kiwi loves her lovey dovey, so I'm hoping this method works.

Barbara and I are hoping that our two pups, who've become instant pals, will pretend they don't know each other quite so well during the upcoming sessions. After all, Glenna showed us some collars with a series of metal spokes that get used on the more formidable doggie behavior challenges. I think I'm going to tell Kiwi about those collars, and I'm sure Barbara will remind Pita (whose name is an acronym, by the way Pain In The Ass).

The other humans there last night generally sat stone-faced throughout the session---so stone-faced, in fact, that all I can tell you is that there were two women and three men. I do know from reading the registration sheet on the clipboard that accompanying them next week will be one Aussie, one Beagle and one mystery dog. Maybe with their dogs along for protection, they'll feel secure in opening up and talking more.

I think I asked the only two questions during last night's session, and those included the subjects of choking and French kisses. Could be those other people did an instant assessment after those revealing questions and figured the better part of doggie masterdom in this learning environment was to keep their big mouths shut, lest someone would sic the humane society on them for canine abuse.

If nobody shows up, seizes my dog and puts her in a foster home over this next six days, I'll work hard on keeping my mouth shut next time. After all, I'll have my Kiwi with me, and I don't want to be seen French kissing in public.