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| I always thought I could train a dog. I was wrong then and I'm still wrong. Unless it's a MWD, or a really trained guide dog. It's a dog. My big thing was "with." If I said it, the dog went with you. Now I have Jack. He is an awesome dog, but he is our dog. She told him to go with me. Now I cant shake him... |
| I just took my untrained dog to the corner store. I wanted a beer. First, she said he couldn't come in. I said, you tell him that. Next, he had to be on a leash. I said, he's a paying customer. We got beer and a hot dog. |
| I used to think I could train a dog. I can't. My hope is my dogs listen to me when it's important. Jackson, my rescue from a few years back, does on occasion. I often wake up early on weekends, and take him to "his" park. If it's 5:00 am, I can take him off leash. STREET! That's the most important. I don't care if a car is coming, but I rarely have to use it. He stays on the sidewalk until he gets to the park where he runs and runs ... and poops. So we're on our way back. Now Jackson has a harness, I have his leash, but no one is around, so I let him go. He won't go more than thirty feet from me, probably a mastiff thing, but a cop pulls up behind us. Says my dog needs to be on a leash. I said he has a harness, I have the leash, but no one is around. Didn't matter. I call the dog. "ME"! He comes. I hold out one hand, palm up, he sits. I did not train him, we just worked it out. So I said, what leash is better than that? Just put it on him ... once I'm gone, do whatever. Jack hates the leash. Maybe that's why he listens so well. |
Sounds like you and Jack listen to each other well! (If only all dog "owners" understood it's a partnership you have with your pets.) I'm impressed he was so agreeable in the presence of the police officer - that's awesome, he knew, didn't he?  Have you read any books on dog behavior (as opposed to "training"? I can recommend, if you're interested. Cheers & happy walking with Jackson!  |
| I always wondered. What in the world would make you ever first smoke crack. I've asked a few addicts, they don't remember. All they know is how much the high means to them. Then I recalled a time when I'd just buried the best dog I ever had. I was a mess, but some girl was hitching a ride. I took her all the way to where she was going, because I wasn't going to do anything but drive around all night anyway. She said, "Come in, I can make you feel all better. Then even better." I was married and said so... and no. And it was crack, not meth then. Is that how it happens? |
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