At War with The Dog
Apr. 17th, 2008 11:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wendykhSo, I am a major dog person. Most anyone who knows me knows this. However, I have little tolerance for, as I refer to them, teeny tiny barking yapping jumping shitboxes. A well-trained animal, however, is a delight.
I thought Maxwell Smart (terrier, yorkshire, standard) was such an animal. His yapping seemed to be limited to loud yet appropriate and quickly silenced outbursts (such as when people would arrive).
After staying a week chez Grandma, however, I have realized something. When she's not here, he's a BRAT. Seriously, a leaf blows the wrong way outside and he acts like a team of ninjas is invading. For several minutes. Barks until he sounds hoarse! Runs around like he's on crystal meth.
And this is the dog that is supposed to convince my husband dogs are pleasant creatures and we should have one? Oh hell no. This will not do.
Also, when I walk him, if a Human comes by on a bicycle, good lord. You'd think they were weilding an AK47.
Oh this will not do. Oh no. Dogs are not supposed to lead either, they are supposed to walk beside you. Leading makes them alpha. Not cool. Max doesn't get this.
Yet.
So today I got serious about teaching this dog some manners. I used to always say dogs were like regular kids and cats were like autistic kids. No. Yorkshire terriers are autistic kids. Lovely but do get lost in their own world.
This morning I took him out for a good long walk. After being awoken by the 5 alarm fire noises he was making (I mentioned it to grandma who happened to walk in at the end of this and she said "well, there was a golf cart rolling by outside." Oh hell no.) I took my sweet time getting ready while he whined pitifully. I threw him out of my suite and let him entertain himself while I took to my business.
Afterward I let him sit on my lap and behave. He knew I was unimpressed. I sat and groomed him a good long while, and then took him for his first "how to walk like a dog should walk properly" walk.
I kept the leash good and short (Miss Mary has a retractable) and yanked him whenever he got obnoxious on it. He picked up on that pretty quick. He's not perfect but he is getting there. I did let him get some good running in while we were on our own property. I kept him out a good hour.
Side note: is spanish moss poisonous? He sure seems to like to eat it.
Next I decided we are going to tackle this excessive barking thing as this is complete bullshit and he doesn't pull that when Miss Mary is home. So he's not going to with me either. After looking for a squirt bottle and coming up blank, I decided to just dump about 2 cups of water on him straight while he pulled that.
It didn't even phase him. (Oh, obviously "Max! Quiet!" did not work either).
So next I got out a big ol' pan. The landscapers came and were spraying the house for bugs. Or washing it. Or something. I don't know. And he started his crap again. So I picked up the pan and banged it against the granite countertop like I was calling dinner on a wagon train. He looked up. "QUIET!" I said. He continued. I banged again. "QUIET!" He woofled. (you know, that sort of under their breath barking dogs do? If you have a snotty teenager you know what I mean even if you don't have a dog). I banged again "I SAID QUIET!"
He shut up.
I walked in here and started typing.
He is now lying down under my chair, and is silent as a 1915 movie.
I'll go cuddle him and watch HGTV now. He likes HGTV.
Now I just need to be consistent.
I thought Maxwell Smart (terrier, yorkshire, standard) was such an animal. His yapping seemed to be limited to loud yet appropriate and quickly silenced outbursts (such as when people would arrive).
After staying a week chez Grandma, however, I have realized something. When she's not here, he's a BRAT. Seriously, a leaf blows the wrong way outside and he acts like a team of ninjas is invading. For several minutes. Barks until he sounds hoarse! Runs around like he's on crystal meth.
And this is the dog that is supposed to convince my husband dogs are pleasant creatures and we should have one? Oh hell no. This will not do.
Also, when I walk him, if a Human comes by on a bicycle, good lord. You'd think they were weilding an AK47.
Oh this will not do. Oh no. Dogs are not supposed to lead either, they are supposed to walk beside you. Leading makes them alpha. Not cool. Max doesn't get this.
Yet.
So today I got serious about teaching this dog some manners. I used to always say dogs were like regular kids and cats were like autistic kids. No. Yorkshire terriers are autistic kids. Lovely but do get lost in their own world.
This morning I took him out for a good long walk. After being awoken by the 5 alarm fire noises he was making (I mentioned it to grandma who happened to walk in at the end of this and she said "well, there was a golf cart rolling by outside." Oh hell no.) I took my sweet time getting ready while he whined pitifully. I threw him out of my suite and let him entertain himself while I took to my business.
Afterward I let him sit on my lap and behave. He knew I was unimpressed. I sat and groomed him a good long while, and then took him for his first "how to walk like a dog should walk properly" walk.
I kept the leash good and short (Miss Mary has a retractable) and yanked him whenever he got obnoxious on it. He picked up on that pretty quick. He's not perfect but he is getting there. I did let him get some good running in while we were on our own property. I kept him out a good hour.
Side note: is spanish moss poisonous? He sure seems to like to eat it.
Next I decided we are going to tackle this excessive barking thing as this is complete bullshit and he doesn't pull that when Miss Mary is home. So he's not going to with me either. After looking for a squirt bottle and coming up blank, I decided to just dump about 2 cups of water on him straight while he pulled that.
It didn't even phase him. (Oh, obviously "Max! Quiet!" did not work either).
So next I got out a big ol' pan. The landscapers came and were spraying the house for bugs. Or washing it. Or something. I don't know. And he started his crap again. So I picked up the pan and banged it against the granite countertop like I was calling dinner on a wagon train. He looked up. "QUIET!" I said. He continued. I banged again. "QUIET!" He woofled. (you know, that sort of under their breath barking dogs do? If you have a snotty teenager you know what I mean even if you don't have a dog). I banged again "I SAID QUIET!"
He shut up.
I walked in here and started typing.
He is now lying down under my chair, and is silent as a 1915 movie.
I'll go cuddle him and watch HGTV now. He likes HGTV.
Now I just need to be consistent.
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Date: 2008-04-17 08:38 pm (UTC)We have a mini daschund that won't fucking shut up.
She's adorable when she wants to be, but bossy and loud as hell. No control over her, and no idea how to get there. She's 3 and has been carted around/dragged on the leash by my brother as long as she's been alive. No concept of not pulling on the leash. None. Being yanked back doesn't phase her, either. So far we have managed to teach her not to bite our fingers when we give her a treat, but that's it. Come when called? No f'n way. Not bark at the change of light? Noooo....