A few weeks ago, we decided that sadly, we had failed in
training our dog. And by
”
we,
”
I mean me. Of course there is a silver lining to this
– while Kirby may not be trained, she’s actually done a
fantastic job of training me.
A few weeks ago, we decided that sadly, we had failed in training our dog. And by “we,” I mean me. Of course there is a silver lining to this – while Kirby may not be trained, she’s actually done a fantastic job of training me.
For example, I am completely potty-trained. Yes, our dog has done a fantastic job of training me in this area. She did so using a clever system of rewards and consequences. First, she would stand next to the backdoor and wouldn’t make a single sound. She’d just stand still, staring into the yard. If I did not notice her – and most of the time I didn’t – she would provide a consequence for my behavior and silently make her way upstairs to Junior’s room, which was filled with clean, fluffy, white carpet. Then she would bark like a crazed animal to get me to go into Junior’s room and step in my reward.
Pretty smart, eh?
Of course, I needed training in more areas than simply indoor/outdoor bathrooms and advanced stain removal. Take walking, for example. It became obvious from the first day after Kirby’s arrival that she had her own method of taking a walk. For me, walks mean strolling fairly briskly through the neighborhood on a path I like to call a sidewalk. For her, walks mean alternating between walking, running and sitting on her butt refusing to go any further – all done in the safety and comfort of the middle of the dang street.
To add to the walking experience, Kirby will periodically break into running spurts to chase shadows, small children, other animals and fast-moving cars. Unfortunately, I am not always prepared for these spurts and now I must live with the consequence – one arm is permanently twelve feet long.
She also trained me in the art of fear. Kirby has no fear. That’s why she will bark like crazy at any animal, no matter how big, and then lunge at it. I swear to you, an elephant could enter the neighborhood and if Kirby was on a walk, she’d go nuts barking and lunging at it until the poor elephant finally went berserk and trampled everything in sight. Including me, of course.
Kirby has also fully trained me in the art of sealing our backyard until nobody can get in or out. This is because Kirby is apparently a wonder dog and can squeeze through an opening in the fence approximately 1 millimeter wide and escape so she can bark at the UPS guy and alert every dog in the neighborhood to the fact that he is making deliveries.
And while we’re on the subject of barking, Kirby has done a fantastic job of teaching me to “speak.” I speak – and by that I mean I yell “Kirby, quiet” – whenever she barks, which is pretty much all day. She is particularly fond of barking whenever something strange startles her, like the wind blowing or a leaf falling from a tree. And she will not stop barking until she gets a treat. This has been such a successful method of training me that Kirby has gained a full 1/3 of her total body weight in the last two months.
Sadly, this is only a partial list of my failures at dog training. And that is why, after careful consideration, we have decided that Kirby will be entering obedience school this week. I can only hope that the instructor uses the same system of consequences and rewards. Because as you can see, I’m very successful at being trained in that manner.
