Because of her colors and markings and what they were told at the shelter, they thought she was maybe a Rottweiler or a Doberman - a big German-model of a dog - and accordingly, named her Gretchen.
When Dad met her for the first time on Christmas morning, he took one look at her and proclaimed, "Oh, she's a hound."
I'm not sure - nobody is - exactly what genetics Gretchen has beyond Dad's initial assessment, but she's a very good dog. Even as a little thing, she was already sitting and staying on command and made a great first impression with her overall behavior. Sure, she's a puppy and puppies have accidents and the learning curve on house-breaking is different for every dog, but overall, she had more manners coming out of a rescue organization than we see from any of our dogs most days.
Sis explained that Gretchen had already gotten some basic training, and she was planning to continue with puppy school classes, because Gretchen had responded so well.
In the following weeks, Sis talked about how much they enjoyed the obedience sessions with the new pup, and the next times we saw Gretchen, the benefits of training were evident.
After celebrating Easter on the farm with the whole family, Jack and I came home to a minor catastrophe. We'd left in a hurry and forgotten to take out the trash, so the dogs had taken it out for us. An elaborate trail of hot dog wrappers, butter papers, styrofoam meat trays, ziploc baggies, potato peelings, coffee grounds, soup cans, bread bags. and greasy fabric scraps wound through our house like a labyrinth. I was so shocked by the extent of the garbage mess that I stepped into an entirely different mess while surveying the damage.
Nobody claimed responsibility, but the truth was told by sticky ears and passed bits of aluminum foil and pink string. Everybody was guilty.
Josie is a great dog, but she's different than Dudley and Diva. For all practical purposes, I could carry Dudley anywhere and manage him without a leash. Sure, he can be as stubborn and easily-distracted as any dog, but he understands what "no" means and has always been quite responsive to the tone of my voice. Diva is much the same way. Josie, on the other hand, has a stubborn streak and a tendency to roam. The thought of turning her loose outside gives me cold sweats, because, "Oh, she's a hound," and when she gets her nose on the ground and picks up a scent she likes, nothing else in this world matters.
Unfortunately, out here in the sticks, we don't have pet stores with Saturday dog schools or anyone to give us the kind of guidance we need to help Josie meet her potential.
Or so we thought.
A few days after our conversation about becoming more responsible dog parents, a friend posted about her family having started obedience training for their puppy with a local guy. Seeing this news as a good omen, I asked her for more information, and by the end of the day, we had our first training session scheduled.
Curt, the trainer, has a great facility near I-40 at Silver Point and a wall full of ribbons he's won with different dogs over the years. Ribbons and dogs raised to be champions from the time they are six week old are one thing, and Josie is something else.
Jack and I were cautiously optimistic when we arrived with a dog, a flexi-leash, and per Curt's instruction, a supply of training rewards - in our case, a baggie with little tidbits of cheese. After arriving and getting initial introductions out of the way, Curt released Josie into a secure, fenced-in area behind the training gym and sat us down at a small table with handouts and pencils for note-taking. Some of the information was old - that dogs are visual learners and that consistent commands are necessary - but some of it was new and made complete sense when coupled with the old.
Josie wasn't quite ready to be back inside when the time came for her to get involved in the session, but suddenly she was the center of attention, and the new man, who smelled like dogs and interesting places, had cheese in his pocket and wanted to be friends.
Curt pulled a regular six-foot leash from a hook on the wall and said, "Look, this is a game."
He held a piece of cheese at knee-level and said, "Josie, come!"
She responded right away, and we spent the rest of the hour observing and practicing command and response, timing, and what to do when she ignores us or is distracted by other things. Curt explained that this "game" was all about teaching Josie how to react to her name and cautioned us against using it when we scold or correct her. We learned about "food drive" and "scent drive" and making obedience appealing to Josie.
The session passed in a flash, and Josie wasn't ready to leave at the end of the hour. She was fired-up and happier than she's been in a long time. Like with children leaving a karate class after having a bunch of fun, she quickly passed out in the back seat and didn't move a muscle until we pulled into the driveway.
We retired Josie's flexi-leash and started walking her on a standard six-foot lead, and over the next couple of weeks, we practiced the "Josie, come!" command hundreds of times, rewarding or correcting her based on her reaction.
She was a brand new dog, focused and engaged in a way we'd never seen before.
Our second session was two weeks after the first and expanded on the things we'd already learned and practiced. Curt introduced us to beginner long-line skills, and we worked on additional corrections and keeping Josie's attention focused on whichever "game" we were playing with her. We learned about the reward pyramid and the importance of keeping Josie's "food drive" active. After she escaped from her collar, a leftover from the days of Jimmy, Curt suggested we go to Tractor Supply Company and invest eight bucks in an appropriately-sized leather collar with a buckle.
We took his advice and detoured through the TSC pet department on the way home - pets are welcome there, by the way - and switched her over to the sleek new collar before we left the parking lot. Later that evening, I ordered a nice long-line from Amazon for less than ten dollars.
We practiced new stuff and old stuff and realized our efforts are paying off when the front door bounced open and stayed open long enough for Josie to get outside two Sundays ago.
I was in the bathroom when I heard Jack yell, "The front door is wide open!!!" after coming home with a load of groceries. I wasn't in the position to do anything at that moment, but by the time I got squared away and ran to the front porch, Jack already had Josie in his arms. She'd responded to the "Josie, come!" command immediately - just like we practiced.
We gave cheese and praise and ignored the chewed-up hotdog wrapper we found in the middle of her bed.
Last Friday, we had our most recent session with Curt. As soon as Josie saw me load a handful of individually-wrapped sticks of string cheese into my purse, she knew what was happening. She ran to the door and yapped once. I swear she smiled.
She was ready to work from the moment we arrived, demonstrating her recall of our previous work and eagerly diving into the new things Curt introduced, namely hopping up onto a platform bed and staying there, which he explained is a kinder, gentler version of the classic "sit/stay" for dogs who don't participate in obedience competitions. He stressed the importance of giving Josie the opportunity to understand the expectation and solve the problem herself as part of the game. He explained that an elevated "stay place" is different than a floor-level rug or bed. After a handful of repetitions, she absolutely understood what she was supposed to do.
We finished with more long-line work and some advanced corrections aimed at making her see the picture of reward, which includes petting, verbal cues, and kibble (or cheese or tiny chunks of cut-up hot dog) every time she corrects herself and gets it right.
Watching her catch-on to each new thing with excitement and confidence is wonderful, and whether it's the special attention, the training, the kibble we keep in our pockets all the time now, or some combination of those factors, we have a different dog now. Josie seems more happy than frustrated. She's engaged and reward-focused, and Jack and I have moved well beyond our the "oh, she's a hound" excuse-making. We better understand that her stubborn streak is actually confusion about what we want her to do and are learning how to be clear with her. And how to really love her, because ribbons or not, Josie, like Gretchen, is a winner.
We have a platform bed on the way from Amazon and look forward to the next steps in our obedience adventure.
We are also shopping for a baby gate to install between the kitchen, with its sweet garbage can temptation, and the rest of the house.
