No Excuses, Play Like a Champion

For several weeks, Jolene has been attending Sunday play group at a local Columbus training facility. Coach John and I love our instructor and his sunny disposition and we love watching Jolene cavort with other puppies. Only rarely do we feel that twinge of embarrassment that all parents feel when their child is a weenie or the surge of anger that comes when a bully picks on our baby. We smile radiantly when she makes eye contact or plows some other pup into the wall. It's been a real treat watching her grow up, but the party's over.

Lately, Jolene has hit what can only be described as the first phase of "terrible twos". She has become {horror upon horrors} a BITER. This may not seem like a concern to those of you without puppies or those who only have hazy, golden-laced memories of your fur baby's puppyhood. But I assure you - when "Needleteeth" starts on a rampage, no patch of skin is safe. Just check out the track marks up my arm that have the Kroger checkout ladies eyeing me suspiciously when I buy OTC allergy meds or the gash across my knee reminiscent of an ACL surgery scar.

To borrow from Miley Cyrus' musical genius, she "can't be tamed". I've tried everything. Spray bottles, cans of rocks, jaw-popping, leash pulling, scruff holding, the dominance lay down... None of these tricks and techniques produced results. I love my pup; however, my wedding dress has short sleeves and this isn't the dewy, blemish-free skin I'd envisioned. So I took to the Internet and started looking for "real" obedience programs. I know positive reinforcement is all the rage in the classroom, and I utilize it - but desperate times call for desperate measures, and while I've been stabbed with a pencil, no kid in my classroom has bitten me {yet?!}.

After a week of reviewing suggestions and Google search results, I find what can only be called a canine equivalent to basic training. This place churns out champions in all fields of dog competition - agility, scenting, etc. They even train TRAINERS here. And best of all - every single person on their payroll owns a GSD {German Shepherd Dog}. These people would be my guides through the terrible twos and turn my baby into a BEAST. Without hesitation, I called for an evaluation and our adventure in intense training began.

Jolene attended her first Puppy Preparatory class a week later. Coach John and I arrived promptly to assess the other participants. It should be noted that both of us are lifelong athletes. Perhaps more importantly, it should be explained that we are both lifelong COMPETITORS. And that drive kicked in mere moments after class officially began. While other puppies howled and tried to play or peed on the floor {how gauche}, we not-so-silently shared smug looks and comments. Jolene sat quietly, absorbed in the two hulking GSD demo dogs lounging behind our trainer. It was then that I knew what type of parent I would be... the one who pushes, the Tiger Mom... and I'm totally at peace with that. Because their dad will be crazy too!

Perhaps it was the lackadaisical attitudes or just plain ignorance of the other puppy parents that put us at such an advantage. We scoffed with the trainer when a woman asked why they didn't use treats here. In the epic words of our trainer {which I've turned into a battle cry} - YOU are the treat! When a child {who was the actual owner of the puppy} started playing his DS instead of handling his dog, we crowed in disbelief. And when a woman said {under her breath} that this all seemed a bit aggressive, I actually snorted. Obviously, she and her Papillon can go back to the feel-good granola commune they came from - this place is for WARRIORS!

Coach John and I relentlessly critiqued each fur baby as they balanced on the tippy table {Jolene was a PRO with a 20 second stay time}, were introduced to a skateboard {Jolene was first to put her paws on it. Unfortunately, she disappointed us slightly when she wouldn't ride}, and were passed to different owners {I hated this part. See previous paragraph for why.}. Jolene was a NATURAL, earning several positive asides from the handlers and earning a meet-n-greet with the two big boys in the back. She stood in awe, tail wagging gently, as they deigned to give her a sniff or two. As they showed their stuff {solid leash skills, unwavering focus, bark on command, etc} - Jolene, Coach John, and I all shared a collective desire - to reach this caliber of competition. The gauntlet had been thrown yet again.

As Jolene and I train diligently each morning and afternoon, she sometimes loses focus of the prize. It's in these crucial moments that I hit her with some "coach talk" a la "Wedding Crashers". Jolene - it's no guts, no glory. No excuses - play like a CHAMPION!

XO,

That's Not Rin Tin Tin

Jolene and I have had a phenomenal summer. We've visited the farm, taken naps in the bed (unless you're talking to Coach John - then, we napped on the floor), gone to various Farmer's Markets (with Coach John and some $30 chicken...another story!), and hit the Petco at least once a week - inevitably leaving with some kind of swag for Jolene. (If this is any indicator of how I'll fare in a Target or Toys R' Us with my human children, we could be buying stock in Mattel and Hasbro).

Today was the turning point. Let's hope it was just a pothole in a long road of ridiculous sunshiny days. Ones that don't boast 100 degree heat indexes and humidity that slaps you on your sweaty forehead whenever you go outside to "hurry" with a four-legged friend. Unfortunately, Jolene has been a tad under the weather and is suffering from an irritable stomach. Read between the lines, as this Southern Belle refuses to air her pup's dirty laundry (literally) on the World Wide Web.

Our day started well enough with a session of pseudo-fetch interrupted by sparrow chasing before the sun got too high in the sky. Despite her stomach issues, Jolene was her rambunctious self. She was immensely enjoying her foray into the role of predator or "Sparrow Stalker" - her alter ego. All seemed well - until our lunchtime "hurry". I'd decided we should hit the Petco with our Rewards Bucks; so, we harnessed up (literally) and headed to car. That's when the day took a turn for the worse...

Jolene took off for the grassy area at a rapid pace just as I opened the door leading to the parking lot. Frantically clutching PetCo coupons, keys, purse, etc - I staggered after her and watched anxiously as her stomach issues continued. My mind spun circles around the different diagnoses you can find on VETinfo.com (don't judge - I do the same thing for myself, having called my mother several times insisting I have had bird flu, swine flu, skin cancer, IBS.... the list goes on and on). As I struggled to keep Jolene in check, I cleaned the offensive area as best I could. Then, I heard the judgment-laden exhalation of a passing stroller brigade.

I swiveled around swiftly and was dismayed to see Jolene relieving herself in a rather unladylike manner on the sidewalk... not the designated grassy area. The women's faces shone with sweat and disapproval, shaming me and my four-legged baby. Jerking my pup to me and giving the Cesar Millan quintessential "ah ah", we bolted. I dragged her towards the car, shrieking a promise to rinse the offending square of cement as the stroller rolled into the distance.

As I threw Jolene into the passenger seat and cranked the AC, I realized I was still holding a bag of... well, y'know. I didn't know what to do - Jolene was obviously hot and out of sorts, so she needed to stay in the cooling car. But - what type of pet owner leaves their dog in a car (albeit one that felt like a meat freezer at this point). Finally, I rolled down the windows so that hot air could waft out and ran like hell towards the trash can (approximately 25 ft. away and in the line of sight from the vehicle). I was just about to pitch bag when I heard a loud Shepherd shriek behind me.

Turning towards the car, I saw what can only be described as a stunt clip from Rin Tin Tin: K9 Cop. Jolene was hurtling out of the open passenger window and her leash was swinging free behind her. Miraculously, she hit the ground running - only to be momentarily deterred when her leash's bag container lodged behind the side mirror. But my loyal canine companion didn't let that stop her. She muscled forward and the container burst open, spewing plastic bags across the parking lot.

I'm sure that this was quite an entertaining sight for anyone crazy enough to brave the heat waves emanating from the black top. It reached a whole new level when, while I scrambled to grab Jolene, the bags, the container pieces, etc. - and a punk in a Lexus SUV HONKED at us in his quest to cross the parking lot. My eyes jerked to his front bumper and lifted to his beady eyes staring holes through us over the steering wheel. I threw up my hands sheepishly, expecting patience or mercy - all the Biblical responses that passerbys SHOULD show in this event. I was met with another angry, perfunctory HONK. And then, I had another Pat Berry moment.

While I'm quite certain my mother might have calmly strode over to the window, run her hands through her pixie hair a couple times to release tension, and then let the rude driver have it - I am not yet my mother in her full glory. So I did an abridged "Juniors" version.... I calmly stood, eyed the driver, and proceeded to wind the bags back onto their spool and fix the bag container in the middle of the parking lot. Then, I smiled at the driver and ordered Jolene back to the car - as if our entire misadventure had been my full-fledged desire. I am the consummate actress, as so many of you know!

Because I'm a great puppy parent, it should be noted that Jolene racked up again at the Petco. Knowing that her day had been trying and her loyalty tested, she is now the happy owner of a "Catch It" and two new Bully Sticks. Perhaps I should start my stock portfolio with a few shares of Purina...?!

XO,