Since I got away with posting yesterday and Mom is out doing the elliptical machine at the moment, I decided to do another post on this "therapy dog" training business. Like I don't even know what it really means. I do know I have to behave the entire hour+ while training. Behaving means not kissing everyone in sight, not meeting and greeting other dogs, sitting for what seems like days but heard something about 1 minute, being in a down-stay position for 3 minutes, and there's new training equipment.
This is called a gentle leader. A leash attaches to the little ring hanging down, and where my nose goes, I go. This torture item restricts my over exhuberance greatly. And,
believe me, I know when it is on. It took less than 30 seconds to decide I hated it. No more rushing over to greet another dog or person. Sometimes when Mom is not watching, I use my dew claws to get it off. Then I can go about my natural instincts to tear off, pulling Mom, to investigate any new smell, greet a canine friend or a new person, or old. I'm not particular. I love everyone. Last Saturday, however, something strange happened; a squirt of water came out of nowhere.
I noticed this green bottle in the possession of Tuxon's mom. I'm beginning to think she gave it to my mom because Mom was walking a little straighter, like empowered, and with more confidence at the training park as well as at Tractor Supply. We stopped at Tractor's Supply for something on the way home Saturday from training; and as we were leaving, I spotted two of the most interesting black dogs. Just as I started pulling towards them to introduce myself a small stream of water from out of nowhere hit my nose. Naturally, I jumped back and proceeded to ignore the black dogs as we were leaving the store. I mean, how would you feel if some water hit you in the face when you wanted to make new friends? I'm going to sniff around the new pack that holds my stuff to see if I can find a green spray bottle. If found, I'll chew a few holes in it.
The bag is neat. It has lots of pockets for treats, paperwork on various vaccinations and shots, clicker, water bowl, water, my toys, Mom's camera, wheels, a retractable handle, -- it holds just about anything that might be required for me.
I do have a small gripe which I've pretty much kept to myself. I like to mark terrority at the training park. Laura, the trainer, must have eyes in back of her head. She catches me just about everytime and scolds both me and Mom. Mom tries to keep me moving when we are inside the training area, but I'm quick to mark a spot. Well, as of the last week or so, Mom has to mark my "mark" with pink flags so the area can be sprayed with some solution. I mean, really, a pink flag! How humiliating to any red-blooded, handsome, male Labrador Retriever!
Mom will be coming back in soon so I'd better say my goodbyes; so until next time, God bless.