I’ve got a 10-month old German Shepherd/Labrador mix that I adopted from a friend. Her name is Mia and she’s absolutely… impossible sometimes. She’s gotten pretty big, pretty fast. Not surprising given her stock, but the problem lies in that she’s a puppy stuck in a big dog’s body. She’s impulsive, reckless, always hungry, always craving attention, and can’t seem to stay away from tasting her own fecal matter. And that’s not even the worst thing. The worst thing is that she rarely obeys.
I say “sit!” and she decides to dart off. I say “don’t jump!” and she’s all over the houseguest. It’d be cute — if she just didn’t crush you with her oversized paws. The only time she’s remotely obedient is when there’s food being withheld, but honestly, who isn’t? So to remedy this position, I felt that dog obedience school was the answer.
The class is operated by the local community center, so you can imagine the characters it draws in. I’m pretty much the only one from my age bracket (18-35). Everyone else is either 55+ or 12 years old. It’s not something I mind. We’re all in the same boat there. I remember on the first day when we had our orientation meeting (without our disobedient counterparts), I looked around at the dynamic of the class and the instructor and had to ask myself if I was caught in some TV pilot episode unawares.
Hilarity aside, it’s already the second week and I can already see how beneficial it is. Like most things in life, there’s been nothing taught that couldn’t have been learned simply via the internet so the class can be written off easily as a waste of time, but there’s the intangibles that we tend to gloss over so easily, especially when viewed from the lens of a tech-oriented and impatient generation.
First of all, there’s much to be learned firsthand from the experienced. There’s a wealth of knowledge that the instructor has that I wouldn’t be able to reproduce anywhere else. He teaches something conceptually and doesn’t hesitate to execute said concept on one of the wayward dogs of our pack. We see the power of his technique and experience right before our eyes, and when it’s done with the worst dogs of the lot, we begin to believe in our own ability.
Secondly, you can’t downplay the environment. My puppy, Mia, loves people. When she’s out at the dog park, she’d much rather spend time playing with the other owners than their dog counterparts. In fact, she’s scared to death of the other dogs. They sense her eager puppy attitude and take advantage of her. Most of the time, she ends up with her tail tucked securely between her legs by my side. So when I take her to a class of 20 or so disobedient dogs, she’s in a place she wouldn’t be if she were training with me alone at home. She’s much more guarded and willing to receive instruction.
Lastly, the whole experience has taught me the importance of discipline. By discipline, I don’t mean my right to exact my unholy wrath upon Mia when she’s ripped out all the wiring to the sprinkler system in my backyard…for the fourth time. I mean the discipline I need to put upon myself to commit to training her forty minutes a day for eight weeks. For Mia’s meager puppy mind to retain anything, there needs to be consistency. There can’t be other people doing the training and I can’t skip training sessions because of trivial things like a bum foot or bad weather. If I want something to change (in her), then I need to be willing to put in the consistent effort and time to help her enable the change. So in the end, the responsibility for her bad behavior has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me. Hopefully things will be different by Thanksgiving.
