Charlie's Angels -- the Dog Trainers!

You've probably heard the expression "Be careful what you wish for". Now I don't want to give the impression that we weren't absolutely overjoyed and besotted with Charlie (yes, even Jerry). But parenthood at fifty-something was a bit of a shock. We were used to our compliant, angelic, 14-year-old, I-can't-do-enough-for-you, Lady. Then we got this adorable 8 pound boy puppy with the sweetest face on the planet. How hard could this be? But we didn't quite "get" how chewy, mischievous and determined he would be. We got him dozens of chew toys, but he found vastly preferable chew-choices: furniture, clothing, rugs, paper products, and body parts.

We knew our limitations and jumped enthusiastically into dog training -- multiple times. The Tender Tutor told us that Charlie was "admirably spirited but too adolescent to absorb much discipline"; Auntie Sallie said he had "wonderful social skills, but was not a real learner" (not college material?); but finally, we found Auntie Tracie, and she assured us he was coachable! The worst thing Lady ever did was chew on the occasional sock. In Charlie's first six months, he ripped off the kitchen wallpaper, ate my prize petunias, chewed up 3 brooms, 6 bamboo placemats, 2 wicker waste baskets, 3 dried flower arrangements, my favorite shoe, all the plastic fruit on the low branches of our Christmas tree, and (the worst) my father's post-cataract-surgery eye drops. So if Tracie thought he was coachable, exactly when would this kick in?

Her first strategy was a month of "leadership training" during which we were to establish that Jerry and I were the alpha dogs and Charlie was zeta dog (or whatever came last in the Greek alphabet). Tracie explained that his real mother would teach him with body language and I was to stop screeching NO and learn to emulate the mother dog. All the Queen's English would not get through to him as effectively as the well-timed body slam.

My opening assignment was to tie him to my belt, force him to be by my side all day, stay behind me going up stairs, through doors, and on walks. This sounds good on paper, but have you recently tried to outmaneuver a six month old puppy? Catapulting myself ahead of him was a complex tri-faceted move, which involved yanking him backwards, nudging him to the side, while flinging myself forward. Definitely an athletic move entailing more coordination than I possessed, but a challenge to be mastered and I was at least as determined as he.

He could now reach the kitchen counter and had developed the very bad habit of swiping food and licking butter. I was told to lurk in the kitchen and wait for the chance to bonk him off the counter. The premier move for this was the lateral hip thrust, which was also highly effective for stair maneuvers should he have the temerity to try to pass me. We were making progress.

Coupled with leadership training, Tracie incorporated my favorite advice from the One Minute Manager — we were to catch him doing something right. Of course sometimes this entailed a rather lengthy wait. If he lay down quietly anywhere near the kitchen, I was to give him lavish praise and a treat. This would eventually convince him that it is better to lie patiently than to swipe food, especially since approaching the counter would now earn him one of my legendary hip bonks. It did not take him long to master the treat-wait.

By his first birthday, Charlie was approaching civility. He would lie patiently while I cooked and even while we had dinner. Although in the spirit of full disclosure, I must add that he started to moan (quite loudly — maybe you would call it a howl?) if he had to wait too long for a tidbit. He also gained a bit too much weight. Tracie had explained that we needed to give him treats only occasionally, and vary these with praise. But we did not excel at praise-based dog discipline, and Charlie is definitely a man motivated by his paycheck. He also has an excellent nose, and if we are foodless, it seems to affect his hearing.

On March 6, the community where we live in Palm Desert is having its second biennial dog show. Charlie's trick? The treat-wait! It's his only trick, but knowing how much he loves food it is quite an accomplishment. We have to time the wait so that it is long enough to impress the judges, but not so long that he will start to moan. They might think he was howling. On the other hand, we could always claim that he is singing for his supper.