Margi Washburn
Let me say upfront that I have the deepest respect and trust in our doggy obedience class instructor. Peg Roginski is much more than that; she’s a dear friend and wise in many ways. That said, when she told our class that our pooches would get used to coming every Tuesday night I had serious doubts.
After all, we were only looking at a five-week course. Sarah the pup is one smart cookie, and yes, she knows the word cookie now, but I didn’t believe she’d miss class.
That first night, Sarah and I went and left hubby home. I never thought to ask if he’d like to come, but when we arrived and there were guys holding the leashes, I hoped the next week would be different.
Sarah found her soul mate in another lab, this one a purebred by the name of Kaya. There was also Daisy the Great Pyrenees, and Bonnie, a cute little fuzzy dog that obviously adored her master.
Daisy was a hoot. She’s getting close to three years old, and that first night she pretty much sat on her rump and stared at Peg and her owners. Her response to initial commands seemed to be, “Who, me?” She was content to watch everyone else, and it was so warm I couldn’t blame her.
Bonnie wanted to stare at her master, and she’s a smart one, too, eager to please and full of pep.
Then there was Kaya and Sarah. The two of them were so excited, Peg pointed to the floor to show everyone how their paws were sweating. Kaya’s owner decided then that they would walk her to class every Tuesday to get her calmed down a bit. For them it was about a mile, for us it would’ve been about four. We’d have to figure out something else.
That first class was all about sitting. Sarah was good at that because we’d taught her, but that was pretty much it. I’m afraid she may have appeared smarter than she was, and I was right.
Hubby came along for the next class, and with a long walk around the park beforehand, we were hoping she’d be a bit calmer. I noticed that Kaya seemed a bit more composed, but guess who was still full of stuff?
To top it off, that night’s lesson was on “sit”, then “down”. Sarah was so far beyond excited, that Peg had to come over and try it herself, because the dog’s behind wouldn’t stay on the floor while the rest of her went forward.
“This is going to take a while,” said Peg, as she sat down to work with Sarah. This pleased the dog so much that from that moment on, Peg was a really special buddy. And, Sarah learned how to go down just like her teacher wanted.
We brought along the proper treats, tasty goodies that wouldn’t upset Sarah’s stomach, but she was always looking to see if someone else had something better. She found Kaya’s stash in the windowsill one night and knocked them onto the floor. I know she found out that Daisy was getting lunchmeat from her master, so when the chance presented itself and Daisy missed a piece, Sarah cleaned it up for her.
All of us appreciated the “stay” command, and most everyone understood and obeyed the “leave it” command, except Sarah still has a problem with that one. We like to call her a Labrador “evader” because she never really retrieves anything; she keeps stuff and tries to eat it.
That last class came too soon. Peg had nothing but wonderful things to say to us, and she gave all of her students a special gift to take home.
I felt the need to apologize for Sarah not being quite as quick a learner as the rest of the class, but Peg told us that Sarah had come a “really, really long way.” Hmmm.
We tried to keep up with what we’d learned, and I know we’ve let things slide a bit. But you know what? The craziest thing happened during the first couple of weeks following that last class.
Hubby and I got ready to go out the next Tuesday night, and instead of running up the foyer steps to watch us leave the driveway, Sarah threw herself at the front door and let out a mangled moan. She sat at the door and refused to budge.
I think we both got it at the same time, yet neither of us could believe it. Sarah wanted to jump into the backseat, toodle on down to class and romp with her buds.
It’s high time to admit it, I guess. When Peg said her students were going to miss class on Tuesday nights, she knew exactly what she was talking about. Just ask the doggy who misses her favorite teacher.
Let me say upfront that I have the deepest respect and trust in our doggy obedience class instructor. Peg Roginski is much more than that; she’s a dear friend and wise in many ways. That said, when she told our class that our pooches would get used to coming every Tuesday night I had serious doubts.
After all, we were only looking at a five-week course. Sarah the pup is one smart cookie, and yes, she knows the word cookie now, but I didn’t believe she’d miss class.
That first night, Sarah and I went and left hubby home. I never thought to ask if he’d like to come, but when we arrived and there were guys holding the leashes, I hoped the next week would be different.
Sarah found her soul mate in another lab, this one a purebred by the name of Kaya. There was also Daisy the Great Pyrenees, and Bonnie, a cute little fuzzy dog that obviously adored her master.
Daisy was a hoot. She’s getting close to three years old, and that first night she pretty much sat on her rump and stared at Peg and her owners. Her response to initial commands seemed to be, “Who, me?” She was content to watch everyone else, and it was so warm I couldn’t blame her.
Bonnie wanted to stare at her master, and she’s a smart one, too, eager to please and full of pep.
Then there was Kaya and Sarah. The two of them were so excited, Peg pointed to the floor to show everyone how their paws were sweating. Kaya’s owner decided then that they would walk her to class every Tuesday to get her calmed down a bit. For them it was about a mile, for us it would’ve been about four. We’d have to figure out something else.
That first class was all about sitting. Sarah was good at that because we’d taught her, but that was pretty much it. I’m afraid she may have appeared smarter than she was, and I was right.
Hubby came along for the next class, and with a long walk around the park beforehand, we were hoping she’d be a bit calmer. I noticed that Kaya seemed a bit more composed, but guess who was still full of stuff?
To top it off, that night’s lesson was on “sit”, then “down”. Sarah was so far beyond excited, that Peg had to come over and try it herself, because the dog’s behind wouldn’t stay on the floor while the rest of her went forward.
“This is going to take a while,” said Peg, as she sat down to work with Sarah. This pleased the dog so much that from that moment on, Peg was a really special buddy. And, Sarah learned how to go down just like her teacher wanted.
We brought along the proper treats, tasty goodies that wouldn’t upset Sarah’s stomach, but she was always looking to see if someone else had something better. She found Kaya’s stash in the windowsill one night and knocked them onto the floor. I know she found out that Daisy was getting lunchmeat from her master, so when the chance presented itself and Daisy missed a piece, Sarah cleaned it up for her.
All of us appreciated the “stay” command, and most everyone understood and obeyed the “leave it” command, except Sarah still has a problem with that one. We like to call her a Labrador “evader” because she never really retrieves anything; she keeps stuff and tries to eat it.
That last class came too soon. Peg had nothing but wonderful things to say to us, and she gave all of her students a special gift to take home.
I felt the need to apologize for Sarah not being quite as quick a learner as the rest of the class, but Peg told us that Sarah had come a “really, really long way.” Hmmm.
We tried to keep up with what we’d learned, and I know we’ve let things slide a bit. But you know what? The craziest thing happened during the first couple of weeks following that last class.
Hubby and I got ready to go out the next Tuesday night, and instead of running up the foyer steps to watch us leave the driveway, Sarah threw herself at the front door and let out a mangled moan. She sat at the door and refused to budge.
I think we both got it at the same time, yet neither of us could believe it. Sarah wanted to jump into the backseat, toodle on down to class and romp with her buds.
It’s high time to admit it, I guess. When Peg said her students were going to miss class on Tuesday nights, she knew exactly what she was talking about. Just ask the doggy who misses her favorite teacher.
No comments:
Post a Comment