Who Trained Who…by Lisa Harmon July 18, 2009

This is my morning wake up call! Are your eyes open yet ma? Kenai 19 mo

There’s an interesting idea for teaching recall on the following blog: http://www.threewoofs.blogspot.com/2009/07/oh-drama.html It’s used alot on herding breeds, and I’m not sure how well it will work on hunting breeds like Kenai. But it’s certainly worth knowing how to do.

I won’t copy without permission, but essentially this recall uses the same pressure on the dog that the dog uses to herd sheep. Collies will “walk down” a wayward beastie and use the pressure of their presence and intentions to make the sheep move in the direction it wants.

I can see how it would work perfectly for herders, using the deeply ingrained instincts they already have. How well it would curtail a hunting instinct, I don’t know. Kenai just locks onto something and knows nothing else when he’s giving me fits in the field. He hasn’t in awhile, but it can be intense.

And Talos the Dane puppy in training has been learning bucketfulls of new things. Stairs. Big stairs, little stairs, wide stairs, skinny stairs…http://smartdog.typepad.com/smart_dog/ He’s got a good “mom” showing him the ropes.

We have such a treat…cool weather! Record territory cool at night for the next 4 days. Man I tell ya if I had the oomph of yesteryear there wouldn’t be a weed anywhere, the flowerbeds would have mulch, and the rose arbor would be tidied up by the time it’s supposed to get hot again.

The boys are downright spunky once that cool air hits them, and they wanna play in a big way. Kenai doesn’t even need the car’s air left running if I go inside a place without him. He just sits there smelling the air through the windows (only partly down) comfie as can be.

One ride yesterday morning was to Walgreens and the cafe for breakfast. I got a thousand empty capsules to fill with his tylan, a bitter tasting antibiotic powder. He won’t eat it on his food, and after getting a small taste of it myself, I don’t blame him. 

My bumbly fingers got the job of stuff-n-shut the caspules later at home. It’s not as easy as it would seem, filling capsules. Not until you get a system worked out and the joints loosened up anyway! Maybe I should’ve gotten one of those capsule filler contraptions.

Oh well, the boys get their medicine in a glob of peanut butter. Neither of them needs a sugar rush, so Mary Poppin’s method of making the medicine go down isn’t up for consideration…

The other car ride for Kenai was in the afternoon. We had to go to the bank, and a doctor’s visit, regular errands, but at an unusual time of day. He seemed awfully jumpy even in the car, so he didn’t get a try at going in with me.

Today, I’m grumpy. I need a swift kick in the mood. Kenai refused to do his business after eating; almost did then got a whiff of something that’d been in the grass and that was it. I gave him over 5 minutes, then got really irritated with the nose. He came inside, opportunity lost.

Mom had a bad night, so rather than feed BB et all, then go back to bed, she just went back to sleep on the couch leaving him in the bedroom unfed and unpottied and whining in sorrow. That meant I had to walk the stairs a third time in one hour to wake her up, even though I’d had a bad night too. Grumpy…

Well, at least today the boy’s kennel and the overgrown parts of our yard will be cut–my cousin’s boys are bringing their weedeaters. We were going to do this last Tuesday, but the rain never let up. Frog strangler downpours, so we postponed until today.

I’ll have to do all the instructions and walking around showing too, with Mom AWOL. That means I’ll be down for the count for a couple days. Mom, jeeze, gimme a break. Donkey boy will be in his crate, too, since I’m not in the mood to deal with crazy running from door to window. Grumpy…

The thing about bad moods is they get worse with every passing event. If ya let ‘em start, the whole day really will be shot to bits. So it’s give myself a kick and change the attitude. I’ll take pity on now-slightly-consitipated Kenai and give him another opportunity at lunch. You’d think he’d learn to get er done then do the nose…

Since his soda carton games last no longer than a doggie treat, yesterday I thought I’d give him a smaller box to see if it took longer to begin the shred. Small box, harder to get feet and mouth both on, right? Wrong. He managed. What a boy. The mac and cheese box didn’t last. He had fun though, short but fun demolition.

Mr. Boy-in-the-dog-house is pouting here next to me on his bed, knowing he’s on my grumpy list. I’m leaving him there just long enough to get my fill of patting his tush. He’s normally up and chasing a ball, so I’m enjoying the reach down and pats! Ohh mean momma…

Okay, too pitiful. Gotta go find his ball for him. Yes, I fetch for the dog. Which of us is trained?

Ka-thwump!! There goes the couch-ate-my-ball games. He’s happy again. Constipated, but happy, silly boy. He’ll be even happier this afternoon when he can play in his freshly manicured kennel, with little bro running around the outside of it. AKA run with me fun.

And he’s discovered the joys of a bathrobe belt. They’re long and sneaky, flitting here and there, and when you think “mom’s” far enough away not to steal it, you realize she has the other end…He plays with it like a cat. Told ya I swear there’s lion genes in him!