I am at work, which technically means I'm supposed to be working on the final paper for my Spirituality in the Third Millennium class, but instead I am thinking about Hattie the half-Golden Retriever/half-Yellow Lab who was at the wedding we attended last Saturday. She was dressed in a ruffly bib, something that looked as though it had been purchased in the Cracker Barrel shop in the '70s, and her owner, David's cousin Cheryl from Arizona, kept surreptitiously sliding minuscule treats into her mouth every time she did what she was told, which was just about every minute. She was ordered to stay calm when petted, to look Cheryl in the eye, to lay down and relax. Every word spoken to her held the possibility of a treat and the intense treating really worked - she was very well-behaved for a six-month-old.
The reason Hattie was at the wedding is because she is being trained to become a service dog for a disabled person. Due to the grave nature of her impending employment, she will need to be able to fit in to every situation imaginable. AND, she has also learned to "eliminate" on command. Wow, that's real talent. Even those of us with much higher brain function can have trouble doing that, but dogs - I don't pretend to know what they are thinking or how their bladders and other stuff work, but they always seem to keep some handy for emergencies, like the promise of Snausages.
Meeting Hattie and Cheryl was divine intervention for us, as our own canine companion, Ava, arrived at our home with the idea that the entire world is her toilet. For the sake of ease, she focuses mainly on our upstairs carpet, for which Sears is thankfully coming next Wednesday to rid of the, well, stink. Since meeting Hattie and Cheryl we have learned that every single time Ava eliminates outside we are to give her a treat and say, "POTTY!" as though we have just won the lottery, then pet her as if she has just performed an act comparable to the parting of the Red Sea. When she is not outside receiving accolades for doing what comes naturally to every living creature including bacteria, she is to be under our feet at all moments, or in the crate, this so she can't sneak away and "go" in the house. She hates the crate but she loves all the attention. Let's hope she's not so smart that she decides to never become housebroken since all that extra attention may go away.
The reason Hattie was at the wedding is because she is being trained to become a service dog for a disabled person. Due to the grave nature of her impending employment, she will need to be able to fit in to every situation imaginable. AND, she has also learned to "eliminate" on command. Wow, that's real talent. Even those of us with much higher brain function can have trouble doing that, but dogs - I don't pretend to know what they are thinking or how their bladders and other stuff work, but they always seem to keep some handy for emergencies, like the promise of Snausages.
Meeting Hattie and Cheryl was divine intervention for us, as our own canine companion, Ava, arrived at our home with the idea that the entire world is her toilet. For the sake of ease, she focuses mainly on our upstairs carpet, for which Sears is thankfully coming next Wednesday to rid of the, well, stink. Since meeting Hattie and Cheryl we have learned that every single time Ava eliminates outside we are to give her a treat and say, "POTTY!" as though we have just won the lottery, then pet her as if she has just performed an act comparable to the parting of the Red Sea. When she is not outside receiving accolades for doing what comes naturally to every living creature including bacteria, she is to be under our feet at all moments, or in the crate, this so she can't sneak away and "go" in the house. She hates the crate but she loves all the attention. Let's hope she's not so smart that she decides to never become housebroken since all that extra attention may go away.
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