March 2009 Archives

I am now the proud companion of a graduate of Canine University.
Juneau received her diploma Monday night. Truth be told, she probably
graduated last in her class. After six lessons in clicker training,
Juneau was the only dog in the class that still would not lie “down”
no matter how many clicks and chunks of cheese and hot dogs came her
way. (I almost had her down in the last class.) But the training did
get her to interact with me beyond just running into a corner when
it’s time for me to put on her collar and leash for a walk. And in
fairness to Juneau, I didn’t do as much of the assigned homework as
I probably should have done. Her teacher nonetheless wrote on
Juneau’s report card: “Juneau is a lovely dog — she made huge
progress (and) clearly trusts (and) depends on you for security and
comfort. Keep up the good work — I’m sure she will continue to
improve.”
Juneau received a bag of treats and a pink-elephant chew toy that she
tore into on the ride home.
Finally, due to the computer-class dropout who owns Juneau, I
accidentally deleted several recent comments to my blog. I
apologize to those who took the time to read and write. Feel free to re-send any deleted comments.

My wife Maura plays with Juneau on Lynn Beach in attempt to strengthen Juneau's bond with somebody other than me. If you notice, though, Juneau keeps looking toward me holding the camera.

A beautiful Sunday afternoon. For the first time, put Juneau on my old dog Hayley’s leash in the back yard. It was a little sad. Hayley’s old brush was on the tree stump next to the leash. Think I spotted a few of her reddish-brown hairs. Hayley died last April. I hope she doesn’t mind Juneau using her leash.
I put Juneau on the leash while I picked up trash revealed by the melting snow, including an empty bottle of raspberry vodka. (I live next to an elementary school that the high school kids occasionally gather around after dark.) Suddenly, I heard a yelp. Juneau had sprinted toward me unaware of the concept of a leash not being held by me. She nearly strangled herself.

Took Juneau to Lynn Beach for the first time. Another lesson for her. She learned that salt water is not for drinking. Eating dead things on the beach is another story. The other day at Breakheart Reservation, she began gnawing on what I thought was a big stick. Upon closer inspection, that big stick was what was left of a leg of a deer. (Can coyotes kill a deer?)

Juneau has gradually worked her way onto our bed for a few nights’ sleep. She seems to sense when I’m too tired to lovingly soothe her to sleep inside her crate. We did move the crate from the kitchen into our bedroom, thinking the closeness to us would satisfy her. But three feet away wasn’t close enough. She has to be ON the bed. The only time she will sleep in her crate now is when she is too tired to put up a fight. And with her sleeping on me most nights, usually I am too tired to put up a fight.

Overall, Juneau’s progress in overcoming her fright is painfully slow. She is totally attached to me. It’s wearing me out. If I’m home and sitting with her, she barks and growls at my sons Matt and Tom if they get too close. And that is the only time she barks or grows. She is a totally silent dog 99.999 percent of the time. In fact, until Juneau barked and growled at Tom, I didn’t even know she could bark and growl. Her bark and growl are not too menacing. Nothing against Juneau — but if I wanted a guard dog, I wouldn’t have picked the most frightened animal at the shelter.
If I’m not around, Tom takes Juneau for walks, once he wrestles her out of her crate. He called me excitedly the other day after he ran Juneau clear around Lake Quannapowitt. Again, once you get her outside, different animal.