Monday, February 24, 2014

Ginger, Super-Dog (at least comparatively)

In week two of dog training class I found out that Ginger really is a rock star.

I used to think that she seemed smart only because Molly (aka, the big dog (RIP)) was so incredibly not-smart, but it turns out that Ginger not only has the Einstein hair, but the Einstein brain as well. Or possibly she's so motivated by little bits of food that she overcomes any inherent deficiencies.

In any case Ginger was the only dog in class that would actually sit on command (more or less) in week two. The puppy was so excited about the food that he was vibrating off the ground, and the terrier continued flipping off her owner and generally acting like a juvenile delinquent. (I think I saw her smoking in the corner with a bottle of beer.)

So Ginger is making both of us look good, which is great because I realized after class that we were supposed to be practicing four times a day, which is about three more times than we have been. I'm trying to make a case that stopping once per block during our daily walks to practice sit/down/stand/wait/etc. counts as more than one session, but I think that might be wishful thinking. But really, we wouldn't want to get too far ahead, would we? That would be rude.

While I'd like to think that it's all due to my impressive dog training skills, I think I may be more on the Molly end of the scale. Fun story of the day:

Back when I was an employee, I met my boss' boss (who lives and works in a different state) a few times and on the rare occasions when she came to our office I could never recognize her, despite the fact that I spent twenty minutes in a one-on-one interview with her. Finally Rvan pointed out that she always wore button-down sweaters, and from then on I was able to figure out who she was as long as I knew she was in town.

Today I was talking to Jeff during lunch, and I knew this person was in the building, and she came into the break room and I still didn't recognize her because she wasn't wearing a button-down sweater.

I'm beginning to feel bad for making fun of Molly because she didn't recognize me when I picked her up from boarding after Christmas one year...

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