Better Idea?

Those playing along at home might remember my "Good Idea" of using a canning ring and peanut butter to attempt to explain to my boys the Joys of Scenting for Training Levels Four.

Reader's Digest version: It wasn't pretty.

Not to be deterred, I gave the issue deep thought, solicited ideas, and settled on the lids of small disposable Tupperware-like containers. Not to drop names, but for the curious, I went with the Glad brand since their locking lids had a handy indent in the middle that I figured I could put the veneer of peanut butter in, thus keeping it safely out of reach of my floor.

The setup was much as before. I had a small ramekin of peanut butter, some extra treats in case the lid was returned, a lid for veneering, and an enthusiastic dog - in this case, Beau.

Right off the bat, I realized that a veneer of peanut butter in the small indent of the lid was not going to work for the Big Dog. Big Dog = Big Tongue, Big Tongue did not fit into small indent in Little Lid, so Big Tongue chased Little Lid all around the Kitchen floor.

D'oh!

On the bright side, the floor stayed clean.

After I pulled the lid out from under the Kitchen table, I switched the peanut butter to the non-indented portion of the bottom of the lid, crossed my fingers, and tried again.

I'd love to say it worked perfectly, but alas, I can't. I can say that it worked much better than the canning ring did. Despite my misgivings, the lid did not flip over and the floor stayed relatively free of peanut butter. The problem now is that the lids are too lightweight for Beau. He is a "firm" licker, and so he still pushed the lid around the floor. He did try holding it down with his paw, which thankfully he decided didn't work (since his giant paw obliterated the peanut butter and no doubt transferred at least a little to floor.) After a half-dozen or so tries, I noticed the lid moving around a lot less, and so I'm guessing he was getting the hang of gentler licking so as to not move the lid.

After 10 or so tries, I dutifully "neglected" to reapply the peanut butter. Just as Sue advertised, Beau went out to the lid, gave it a sniff, and looked at me:

Hey? What gives?

I clicked, treated, and then put peanut butter on the lid. Beau was really picking up on this fast, so I went one step further and carefully pulled a plain, icky-stranger-scented lid out of its protective zip-top bag with a pair of tongs.

I would have bet money that Beau would have been entranced by this lid, since (a) it was scented by a total stranger to him and (b) this truly wonderful person has a menagerie of critters at home (including a dog) and I would have no doubt he could tell that.

Sure enough, he gave that lid a few big sniffs and a single big lick, and never looked at it again. No matter where I put my peanut butter suffused lid in relation to the icky-stranger-scented lid, he never failed to "find" the right lid. Yeah, I know, at this point I could have put out a lid scented by me with the peanut butter suffused lid and he would have picked out the peanut butter suffused lid.

Still, I have to admit it was kinda cool.

Next up was Zachary, and I'll spare you the long story as it went almost exactly like Beau's except (a) Zachary is a much gentler licker and so he didn't have trouble with the lid moving (b) Zachary retrieves the lid as he quickly figured out he can get more peanut butter faster if he doesn't have to wait for me to get up and get the lid myself -and- (c) Zachary showed zero interest in the (fresh) icky-stranger-scented lid.

Summary?

It was way cool!

A Better Idiot

A few quick definitions before we start:

id*i*ot (noun) : "a foolish or stupid person"
stu*pid (adjective) : "acting in an unintelligent or careless manner"

One of the things I enjoy most about Homeschooling is the complete control I have over what I choose to teach my dogs and when, with the goals I selected at the start of the year forming the major milestones I need to keep within my sights.

With Sue Ailsby's Training Levels, AKC's Canine Good Citizen test items, and the additional Canine Curriculum subjects I have created as my maps and travel guides, you would think this journey would be idiot proof...

... and you would be wrong...

... or perhaps I'm just a better idiot (see definitions above).

Take, for example, the "clever" idea I had to have "Circle Around Me" as the Trick of the Month for May. Given that Lacrosse was still going strong and Zachary was going to be cramming for Canine Good Citizen, I decided to pick something easy, and what could be easier than having your dog walk around you? A few cookies, a bit of luring (shhhh - don't tell the luring-phobic) and I'm done. You would think I could have the basics in a few minutes and the final product in just a few days work...

... and you would be wrong.

You see, Zachary is still working on Finish and has yet to have a cue added to the motions. (For those who might not know, a Finish is when the dog moves from being in front and facing you, to being beside you, in heel position, facing the same way you are.)

Now Circle Around Me has the dog starting in front, facing me, then moving all the way around me, and ending up facing me again.

Keep in mind that Zachary has a huge desire to please, and, when confused, is prone to running through his (long) list of similar (or not) things learned in hopes that one of them will be a match to what I'm looking for - sort of the Spaghetti on the Wall approach.

Need I say more?

Thankfully, it only took a few seconds of standing there, cookies in hand, staring into Zachary's eager eyes, to realize the enormity of my mistake.

(hint: visions of me trying to get a nice at-my-side sit for Finish while Zachary is running circles around me went zipping through my head.)

Sooo... there will be no Circle Around Me trick this month. For This Week I've tossed Cookie the Nose back on the list again, as Zachary never really got that one down. Hopefully, I will put more thought into the decisions I make next month than I did this time around (see definitions at the top of this post.)

"With great power, comes great responsibility", said Uncle Ben in Spiderman, and he is right. I have the power to decide what I'm going to teach my dogs and when, but I also have the responsibility to make sure my Lesson Plan is well thought out and isn't going to cause confusion.

This month, I failed.

Let's hope I manage to do better in the future.

Connections

Have you ever had two totally different experiences combine to create a single Ah-Ha! moment (or, more usually for me, a D-oh! moment?)

Today, while grocery shopping, I noticed an older woman walking slowly along, pushing her shopping cart and holding the (very) loose leash of her lovely black Lab service dog. They were doing absolutely nothing noteworthy, and if I hadn’t been walking right towards them I wouldn’t have noticed them at all.

She shuffled along, focusing on her shopping, and her dog shuffled along beside her, mirroring her pace with placid patience, walking past all sorts of fragrant produce with nary a sniff.

I smiled and continued on, rushing here and there to collect strawberries, bananas, and lament the lack of blueberries (sigh). I ran into them again (figuratively, of course) a bit later. The woman appeared to be lost in thought staring at the wall of serve-yourself-containers. Her dog was now sitting beside her, his only motion being a wistful sniff of the blackberry basket in her cart. As I grabbed some spaghetti sauce jars, I saw her start moving again, and, without a word that I could hear from just a few feet away, her dog got up and continued his slow, plodding pace right beside her.

Skip forward a few hours, and Hubby and I have the boys out on The Walk. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the air was pleasantly cool (for this time of year) and we were moving along at a brisk pace. (We always move along at a brisk pace, since the purpose of The Walk is to get the wiggles out of the boys and shuffling along just doesn’t cut it.)

And here a small inject of background information is required. Our boys, like dogs everywhere, have an amazingly large vocabulary. In addition to the words we have worked hard to teach them (boring things like Sit and Down and Stay…) they have picked up words that are far more meaningful to them (things like Walk and Out and Cookie...)

Particularly Cookie.

They can pick the word Cookie out of the most convoluted of sentences, spoken a room away, embedded in an hour long conversation, while appearing to be in a deep sleep.

It really is amazing.

Their ability to pick out the word Walk is also quite astounding, which is why we no longer walk our dogs. We shuffle, saunter, amble, hike, stroll, stretch legs or puppy paws, and sashay (well, I sashay – Hubby staunchly refuses.) Mr. Roget would be quite proud of us.

Which brings us, finally, to the reason I posted this (assuming anyone is still left reading.)

Today, as we were sashaying along, enjoying the beautiful weather, I just happened to say the word Cookie. I also just happened to be looking right at the dogs (2 feet away) when I said it. And you know what? Nobody heard me. Not an ear twitched, not a head turned. There wasn’t any indication what so ever that either dog had heard the word I said:

Cookie.

And that’s when I had my Ah-Ha! (aka D-oh!) moment. The dogs didn’t act like they heard me, because they actually hadn’t heard me. They hadn’t heard me because they weren’t listening to me. They weren’t listening to me because they knew, in the context of The Walk, there was absolutely nothing I was going to say that they were going to care about.

Oh sure, I occasionally ask Zachary to Sit while Beau does that Guy Thing on a shrub (Zachary isn’t allowed to acquire such bad habits – sometimes it sucks to be the Second Dog) and Zachary listens to that, but that’s more out of repetition than any real processing of something I said.

Thinking about it (probably for the first time ever) I realize that I neither do nor say anything of interest to either dog while we are on The Walk. Hubby and I walk along in our human world while the canines enjoy theirs and there is little or no interaction between the two species.

Contrast that with the woman this morning, lost in her own human world and her dog seemly lost in his own as well, and yet they remained connected. When she moved, he moved. When she stopped, he stopped. When they weren’t moving, he was watching the people and looking around in a mildly curious way – one might even think him non-attentive – and then she would move again and he would once again become her shadow.

I have no idea what his service dog job was, it’s none of my business and it’s not pertinent to my story. The point is that that they were connected in a way that I have yet to achieve with my boys – at least while on The Walk.

Once again I find myself without a clear conclusion, contemplating a “problem” that may or may not be worth fixing. Hubby sees The Walk as a relaxing time to get some fresh air and make our peaceable kingdom, well, peaceable. I enjoy The Walk because it gives Hubby and me a chance to chat about our day and unwind. The dogs enjoy The Walk because it gives them a chance to get out of the house and get some exercise, to walk along, side-by-side, and take in the sights, sounds, and smells of the neighborhood.

Perhaps I should try to find a way to make myself more relevant to their world, or perhaps, in the one special context of The Walk, the boys should just be allowed to be dogs.