Got Puppy. Now What?
The photo that made me fall in love. Henry, September, 2015.
Once upon a time, there was a puppy. And, like ALL puppies, he was perfect. He didn't chew on things. Not one shoe. Not the left leg of an end table. He was such an amazing puppy that he came to his new family perfectly potty trained. Accidents on the carpet? Not a chance. On the tile floor? Never. In the middle of the night? Nope. Obedience? Sit, stay, come, roll over, and bring me a Pepsi from the refrigerator were a skill set he'd had since birth!
If only I were describing my Henry (or most puppies who are NOT of the stuffed animal variety). But, like all living, breathing actual puppies, our tri-colored Shetland Sheepdog Henry, came to us perfectly imperfect.
We'd known he was smart (he was actually potty trained relatively quickly). Henry wasn't much of a chewer, either. So, maybe I'm biased, but I'd like to think he was (and still is) impressive. As new puppy parents, however, our human imperfections were almost glaring. Having been the parents of senior Shelties, I'm thinking I'd succumbed to a syndrome called "puppy amnesia" -- where the trials and tribulations of puppyhood are forgotten, leaving cute puppy pictures as the rose-colored sole remembrance of tougher times.
This was now 2015, and a lot had changed in the dog world since my Buffy and Dylan were puppies so long ago. Training methods had changed for the better. Hello, positive reinforcement! (A trainer I'd hired to work with Dylan way back when actually endorsed choke collars!). The rise in popularity of agility, as well as other dog sports such as Rally and Obedience, and also certifications like Trick Dog! or the AKC's Canine Good Citizen, led to the rise in training facilities. What did I know about dog trainers? Erm...?
Thinking we were doing right by Mr. Henry, we'd hired a trainer who'd come to our house. How amazing, it seemed. A trainer. Would come. To our house. This is GREAT! And there we were, working on sits and stays in our living room with a gentleman, whom although had the positive reinforcement part down, also had the personality of drywall. Something was missing. Other dogs were missing.
Cue Pet Experts Professional Pet Services. Run by an amazing trainer named Diane Sammarco, we'd found this facility (which happened to be five minutes from our house) completely by accident. Who knew that the local humane society would partner with Pet Experts for a Halloween party? Our desire to support a good cause, coupled with wanting to kill some time on an autumn Saturday afternoon was, it seemed, fate. So, armed with bandanas as costumes, we put on our party shoes (ok, so they were sneakers) and found ourselves transported to a real live training center with puppy classes and other dogs and cool stuff (translation: agility jumps looked REALLY fun to this newbie dog sport enthusiast). How did we not discover this place? And, why wasn't Henry enrolled in classes like yesterday?
Henry and Buffy at the Pet Experts Halloween Party. October, 2015.
Unfortunately, at the next enrollment date, there weren't enough puppies to make a full go of a "Puppy I" class, but we were encouraged to enroll Henry in a Trick Dog class. As Emeril Lagasse, would say, Trick Dog class is obedience "kicked up a notch." Sits and stays and downs qualify as novice tricks. Additionally, the tricks progress (and do serve as foundations for agility): paws up on an object, jump over a bar, touch a target. When the idea of enrolling Henry into the trick class was first mentioned, I thought to myself "Trick dog, why?" Nevertheless, at that point anything seemed better than Mr. Drywall -- and we were desperate to have a well-adjusted, well-trained Sheltie boy.
The first night of Trick Dog Class, well...it didn't go as expected. Our high hopes were dashed in about five minutes. Perfectly imperfect Henry displayed behaviors we hadn't seen from him: shyness, fear barking, preoccupation with the other dogs in class. But...but...the other dogs -- ranging from novice, to intermediate, to advanced level Trick Dogs -- they were doing so well! Perfect Bailey. Perfect Muse. Perfect puppy Charlie. Monster Henry! Those dogs weren't overachievers, were they? Why weren't they acting like they'd lost their marbles! Feeling like I'd suddenly swallowed a bowling ball, I became discouraged. Were we epically failing as puppy parents? What happened to our well-behaved little Henry? My visions of an amazingly smart puppy doing tricks and then agility became hazy. My dreams of my Sheltie boy frolicking with his agility pals atop podiums and amongst ribbons evaporated. These dreams and visions and visions and dreams were replaced by a real-life uncontrollably shy, sensitive, barking, scared little Henry.
Diane was reassuring. "All puppies have different personalities," she said. But she was also blunt in telling us that Henry would require a lot of patience. He'd require a lot of work. He needed to build confidence in himself. Vowing to fix what was wrong (though we had no idea anything was wrong), we formulated a plan: 1. Buy treat bags. 2. Get high value treats. 3. Practice in the mornings before work. 4. Practice in the evenings. 5. Get courage to attend the next Trick Class. 6. Practice. 7. Practice. 8. Practice. 9. Practice.
There's a saying that goes: "Practice does not make perfect. Only perfect practice makes perfect." And so, we shrugged off the perceived failure of our first ever canine group class. We became students who became teachers. And, we began to teach a puppy. It's a funny thing when you set your mind to something, because the second class, Henry was slightly better. The class after that slightly better again. A mastery of one trick turned into a mastery of two, then three, then four. Scary things -- like the tunnel -- were no longer scary.
Henry's First Tunnel.
In a month's time, discouragement turned to hope, and hope turned to optimism. Henry was growing in confidence, as were we. Most importantly, the human/canine bond was growing between us. Fear on his part, and frustration on ours, dissipated. Somewhere along the way, the three of us found ourselves going to class because it was fun. (A puppy class did start in December, 2015, for which Henry also received his AKC S.T.A.R. Puppy designation).
Were those days easy? Far from it. Training Henry was and remains a labor of love. Do we still have times that are utterly frustrating? Absolutely. But that's what this journey is about, isn't it? Rome wasn't built in a day, and a month of trick classes didn't cure Henry of who he is. Our baby steps led us baby gains in his confidence. Combining a bunch of those baby steps together garnered Henry his Novice Trick Dog title in December, 2015. Yes, he got the accolades, and we achieved something greater: lessons in trust, patience, perseverance, and dedication.
