A Little Bit Dickens
Apparently, Shadow is a grumpy old man and Toby is Jacob Marley.
What?!?
Let me explain. Last Friday, I paid for a certified dog trainer to come to our home. (See, I told you I'm trying to help this Toby character. He's my responsibility, and I'm doing my best to integrate him into our family.) Anyway, the trainer came in with her loud mouth and curse words (I liked her quite a bit because of those characteristics), so the first thing I did was to thank the Good Lord my kids weren't home. The second thing I did was to listen to her, because she got to work right away. Partially stating the obvious, the trainer explained that "Shadow is old and set in his ways," and that "Toby has to learn to deal with it."
Can I get an Amen to that statement?
But then, the trainer also went on to say that Toby has no impulse control and that I, being the one mostly at home, must help him develop it. I must also teach the rest of the family how to help Toby develop that trait. And that by attaching a leash to his collar--at all times when he's not in the crate--we will facilitate the training process (because we can step on the leash when he's doing something inappropriate and move him away/reprimand him). That afternoon, before the trainer had even left, Toby managed to chew through the nylon leash--a sort of "F^@# you" to the trainer if you will. Hence, he now wears his chain leash all day, which is where Jacob Marley comes in.
I could feel bad about that old ball and chain, but seeing as he just bounded out the door without a care in the world, the leash dragging to the side, not stopping him in the least as he jumped up and over the sandbox in his quest to catch that stubborn squirrel in our back yard, I just won't.
And by the way, I do think it's helping.
What?!?
Let me explain. Last Friday, I paid for a certified dog trainer to come to our home. (See, I told you I'm trying to help this Toby character. He's my responsibility, and I'm doing my best to integrate him into our family.) Anyway, the trainer came in with her loud mouth and curse words (I liked her quite a bit because of those characteristics), so the first thing I did was to thank the Good Lord my kids weren't home. The second thing I did was to listen to her, because she got to work right away. Partially stating the obvious, the trainer explained that "Shadow is old and set in his ways," and that "Toby has to learn to deal with it."
Can I get an Amen to that statement?
But then, the trainer also went on to say that Toby has no impulse control and that I, being the one mostly at home, must help him develop it. I must also teach the rest of the family how to help Toby develop that trait. And that by attaching a leash to his collar--at all times when he's not in the crate--we will facilitate the training process (because we can step on the leash when he's doing something inappropriate and move him away/reprimand him). That afternoon, before the trainer had even left, Toby managed to chew through the nylon leash--a sort of "F^@# you" to the trainer if you will. Hence, he now wears his chain leash all day, which is where Jacob Marley comes in.
I could feel bad about that old ball and chain, but seeing as he just bounded out the door without a care in the world, the leash dragging to the side, not stopping him in the least as he jumped up and over the sandbox in his quest to catch that stubborn squirrel in our back yard, I just won't.
And by the way, I do think it's helping.
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