I never got around to writing about Ritter's first day of (dog) school, so here goes.
It was difficult getting him into the car. Ritter didn't grow up with car rides, and what we know, very limited interactions with cars in general. It was a struggle getting him into my car. After a lot of pulling, pushing, luring and coercing, I finally just picked him up and deposited him onto the back seat.
It was his first time going on the freeway. Up until that point, the fastest Ritter had ever traveled was 45 MPH on wide boulevards. There's was a little more pacing and panting than usual on the 35 minute drive, but overall he did well and seemed to enjoy looking out the window.
It was difficult getting him out of the car. Getting him into the car was nothing compared to getting him out. Once again there was pulling, pushing, luring and coercing, but he managed to keep dancing around on the back seat and would then jump into the front seat. What happened next though really made me wish we had just sucked up some pride and copied the woman in the car next to us. Pick the dog up from the car to carry it out (though her dog was probably 15 pounds lighter than Ritter).
I won't dance around it: he peed on my perforated leather seats. I wasn't angry with him because what good would that do? He's already scared and anxious enough to let loose his bladder, no point in adding to his fears. The small confines of my back seat made it difficult to get in there and pick him up though. At that point I sucked up any semblance of dignity I had wanted to maintain, and showed the world just how little control I could exert over my mom's dog when I finally carried him awkwardly out of the car.
Once he entered the store he was fine, albeit his normal anxious self. My mom worried that Ritter wasn't learning anything while he hid underneath her stool. But really the in-store training is meant for the owner of the dog. I thought Ritter did well considering he was in a completely foreign environment.
After class we wandered in the store. He was very patient and didn't fuss at all, unlike some other dog we know. *cough*lilah*cough* While my mom and I were looking at a product, Ritter sat patiently near us. To my left I hear two young boys comment about a dog and start to run my way when their dad tells them to slow down and ask.
"Can we pet him?" they asked. Two boys between 5 and 8 stood about a foot away from us.
I said yes of course and they pet Ritter on the head and shoulder. The boys giggled and ran back to their dad who told them to say thank you. So cute. And Ritter, while not lapping up the attention, was dignified and gentle.
My mom also reported that a young girl who petted him commented on how soft his fur was, which is very true.
In the couple of weeks that my mom has bee working with him on the training, he seems to be doing very well. As long as you have some chicken to treat him with, I'm sure Ritter could even learn how to steer a car.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Hide and Seek
If I ever get lost, I want them to send Ritter for me!
Yesterday, as part of the car ride adventure, we took the dogs to play at my grandma's house. It's a very nice yard with a large (empty) pond, a small grass area, stone walkways, raised ground areas, a bridge, and a long driveway. Overall it seems like a fun place to adventure if you're a dog or a young child.
When you read puppy books, they suggest playing hide and seek with your dog as a part of a bonding game. I guess also if you wanted to practice recall with them too.
Our yard, before the trees were cleared and the new fence put in, had a lot of vegetation to hide behind. I sometimes used to play hide and seek with Lilah when she was little, but she often found other things more interesting than looking for me. Or maybe she didn't feel it worth it to actively go to me, when I was clearly hiding behind the apricot tree.
Ritter, however, is a joy to play this game with. He'll trot around the yard with a slightly worried expression on his face as he searches known hiding places. Sometimes he gets help from bystanders in the yard, pointing towards my hiding place, but he always finds me to receive his reward of kisses and lots of affection.
So that's what we spent a lot of time doing at my grandma's backyard. Ritter found me majority of the time, with Lilah hot on his heels. After a certain point though, Lilah kind of stopped caring and Ritter hounded me everywhere so as not to lose sight of me.
I do wonder though, if I could wait long enough for Ritter to rescue me. The longest I've seen him in motion was yesterday and that was maybe an hour at most...Let's just hope we aren't separated by too much distance then when I get lost.
Yesterday, as part of the car ride adventure, we took the dogs to play at my grandma's house. It's a very nice yard with a large (empty) pond, a small grass area, stone walkways, raised ground areas, a bridge, and a long driveway. Overall it seems like a fun place to adventure if you're a dog or a young child.
When you read puppy books, they suggest playing hide and seek with your dog as a part of a bonding game. I guess also if you wanted to practice recall with them too.
Our yard, before the trees were cleared and the new fence put in, had a lot of vegetation to hide behind. I sometimes used to play hide and seek with Lilah when she was little, but she often found other things more interesting than looking for me. Or maybe she didn't feel it worth it to actively go to me, when I was clearly hiding behind the apricot tree.
Ritter, however, is a joy to play this game with. He'll trot around the yard with a slightly worried expression on his face as he searches known hiding places. Sometimes he gets help from bystanders in the yard, pointing towards my hiding place, but he always finds me to receive his reward of kisses and lots of affection.
So that's what we spent a lot of time doing at my grandma's backyard. Ritter found me majority of the time, with Lilah hot on his heels. After a certain point though, Lilah kind of stopped caring and Ritter hounded me everywhere so as not to lose sight of me.
I do wonder though, if I could wait long enough for Ritter to rescue me. The longest I've seen him in motion was yesterday and that was maybe an hour at most...Let's just hope we aren't separated by too much distance then when I get lost.
Doggy Passengers
Yesterday my mom and I took the dogs for a drive. Lilah loves riding in the car for some reason and it's good for Ritter to see the world outside, even if it is a little blurry and muted. He used to hate riding in the car. It took herculean strength to lift his unwilling body into the car. Then he shivered and drooled in the back seat at first, the car racing along at the speed of 5 MPH. Not to mention he peed in my car when we tried to coerce him out...
I'm a visual person; I enjoy diagrams. And so you shall receive diagrams. Specifically diagrams of how the dogs are placed when we ride in the car. (Do not judge me by my poor textual diagrams)
P = People
L = Lilah
R = Ritter
Notice a pattern here?
Lilah has pretty much always ridden in the front seat. When she was a puppy, she typically sat in the front passenger seat, on the front passenger if there was one. It really made no difference if there was a person under her fuzzy butt or not. It was only recently that she started (forced) to ride in the back, perhaps to allay Ritter's fears.
So going back to the initial story, the dogs were riding in the back, and my mom and I were in the front. We stopped by the local BR to get some ice cream. I stayed in the car with the dogs while my mom went to purchase the ice cream.
As soon as the car door was shut, Lilah hopped into the front seat and quite prettily sat her rump down. When my mom returned, Lilah refused to move. She did however grace my mom with a look that boldly stated, "Yes? May I help you with something?" As is required in any stand off with Lilah, my mom pressed on determined, lowering herself into the seat.
What could Lilah do but yield? Lilah deigned to grant my mom half the seat and waited patiently for the drive to begin.
I'm a visual person; I enjoy diagrams. And so you shall receive diagrams. Specifically diagrams of how the dogs are placed when we ride in the car. (Do not judge me by my poor textual diagrams)
P = People
L = Lilah
R = Ritter
One Person + Ritter
- - -
[] []
P
R
[] []
- - -
Two People + Ritter
- - -
[] []
P P
R
[] []
- - -
One Person + Lilah
- - -
[] []
P L
[] []
- - -
Two People + Lilah
- - -
[] []
P LP
[] []
- - -
Two People + Two Dogs
- - - - - -
[] [] [] []
P P or P LP
R L sometimes R
[] [] [] []
- - - - - -
Notice a pattern here?
Lilah has pretty much always ridden in the front seat. When she was a puppy, she typically sat in the front passenger seat, on the front passenger if there was one. It really made no difference if there was a person under her fuzzy butt or not. It was only recently that she started (forced) to ride in the back, perhaps to allay Ritter's fears.
So going back to the initial story, the dogs were riding in the back, and my mom and I were in the front. We stopped by the local BR to get some ice cream. I stayed in the car with the dogs while my mom went to purchase the ice cream.
As soon as the car door was shut, Lilah hopped into the front seat and quite prettily sat her rump down. When my mom returned, Lilah refused to move. She did however grace my mom with a look that boldly stated, "Yes? May I help you with something?" As is required in any stand off with Lilah, my mom pressed on determined, lowering herself into the seat.
What could Lilah do but yield? Lilah deigned to grant my mom half the seat and waited patiently for the drive to begin.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Dog Jogging Pt. 2
So after yesterday's undignified run for my life, my mom commented that Lilah was slightly limping. Lilah being as active as she is, sometimes gets hurt like any athlete. And like any athlete though, she typically walks it off. She continued to run around and play soccer with my brother like normal.
However later that evening, Lilah was noticeably limping, putting as little pressure as possible on her front right paw. My mom has always been kind and nurturing towards me and my brothers, and just as much so towards the dogs. She immediately told me to comfort Lilah as she herself sat down at the floor to scratch and soothe Lilah. So there we both sat on the ground, with Lilah comfortably resting in my lap while my mom gently stroked her and cooed at her.
Where was my sympathy a couple days ago when Lilah's demon speed caused me to injure my knee and limp around the house? My mom certainly didn't order Lilah to lick my wound! Even on the run earlier, I had gotten cut from some brush Lilah ran me past. Injustice I say!
All kidding aside though, I'll have to keep my eye on her because if it persists or gets worse the next couple of days, we'll have to visit the vet. Lilah isn't one to make a big fuss over an injury. She's tough as nails. So it's possible she could cause further damage to herself. Guess I'll have some time to let my injury heal too.
However later that evening, Lilah was noticeably limping, putting as little pressure as possible on her front right paw. My mom has always been kind and nurturing towards me and my brothers, and just as much so towards the dogs. She immediately told me to comfort Lilah as she herself sat down at the floor to scratch and soothe Lilah. So there we both sat on the ground, with Lilah comfortably resting in my lap while my mom gently stroked her and cooed at her.
Where was my sympathy a couple days ago when Lilah's demon speed caused me to injure my knee and limp around the house? My mom certainly didn't order Lilah to lick my wound! Even on the run earlier, I had gotten cut from some brush Lilah ran me past. Injustice I say!
All kidding aside though, I'll have to keep my eye on her because if it persists or gets worse the next couple of days, we'll have to visit the vet. Lilah isn't one to make a big fuss over an injury. She's tough as nails. So it's possible she could cause further damage to herself. Guess I'll have some time to let my injury heal too.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Dog Jogging Pt. 1
Ritter is going to have his first dog training class on Saturday! (Which of course I'll write about) In order to help quell Ritter's innate anxiety, my mom's been given the task of getting Ritter accustomed to exercising sans Lilah as she usually prevents him from doing so. So while my mom takes him out on her own to play in a "fenced in meadow," I've been taking Lilah on run/walks.
Lilah, despite having gone through basic training, isn't the best walker. She does, however, love to run. So for the past few days, I've put on my running shoes and taken her on run/walks. For the most part she does remarkably well. Once she finally stops squealing and yipping in excitement. And I finally convince her that no, we're not going to the car. And she finally stops trying to backpedal to the front porch. And I finally get her past our property line.
Aside from all that it takes to get her started, she's actually quite pleasant to jog with. I slowly jog while she keeps a quick trot. Every now and then I have to suddenly halt when she decides a spot of grass needs to be marked. Or when she decides to poop. And then poops again a few blocks later. After I've already used and thrown away the one poop bag I brought along...I have since learned to tie on three bags to her leash, just in case.
The only problem is once we reach the home stretch, that straight shot of two blocks to home, Lilah takes off at a full sprint. Now I can run pretty fast, my bow-legged-ness giving me a springy-quick stride, but Lilah has a body meant for speed. You know how a running cheetah has a spine that allows it to flex and bow? Yeah, Lilah's long back does that. Her mad dash for home requires that I stomp down hard to maintain my balance and to kind of rein her in.
So down the two blocks we go, Lilah wild-eyed and foaming at the mouth, panting so hard it sounds like a warthog on the rampage. And me, with my loud stomping, ugly form and silent plea for her to trot back home on a loose leash like a normal, tired dog.
Somehow I find myself at home, nearly collapsing on the front steps as Lilah's spittle covers her muzzle and her drool starts to pool at her feet. Zero dignity.
Lilah, despite having gone through basic training, isn't the best walker. She does, however, love to run. So for the past few days, I've put on my running shoes and taken her on run/walks. For the most part she does remarkably well. Once she finally stops squealing and yipping in excitement. And I finally convince her that no, we're not going to the car. And she finally stops trying to backpedal to the front porch. And I finally get her past our property line.
Aside from all that it takes to get her started, she's actually quite pleasant to jog with. I slowly jog while she keeps a quick trot. Every now and then I have to suddenly halt when she decides a spot of grass needs to be marked. Or when she decides to poop. And then poops again a few blocks later. After I've already used and thrown away the one poop bag I brought along...I have since learned to tie on three bags to her leash, just in case.
The only problem is once we reach the home stretch, that straight shot of two blocks to home, Lilah takes off at a full sprint. Now I can run pretty fast, my bow-legged-ness giving me a springy-quick stride, but Lilah has a body meant for speed. You know how a running cheetah has a spine that allows it to flex and bow? Yeah, Lilah's long back does that. Her mad dash for home requires that I stomp down hard to maintain my balance and to kind of rein her in.
So down the two blocks we go, Lilah wild-eyed and foaming at the mouth, panting so hard it sounds like a warthog on the rampage. And me, with my loud stomping, ugly form and silent plea for her to trot back home on a loose leash like a normal, tired dog.
Somehow I find myself at home, nearly collapsing on the front steps as Lilah's spittle covers her muzzle and her drool starts to pool at her feet. Zero dignity.
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