“He’s going to a dog school,” I said, amused at the diagnosis, comparing Spot’s emotional upset to a child’s “school stress.”
We talked payment schemes and Jonathan was willing to take installments. “Pay as we move along,” he said.
That suited me comfortably. I said I will return.
A Convincing Demonstration
It was a cool morning that first week of January of 2003 when I arrived back to Jonathan’s dog school, with Spotty now a 6-month old dog. When I first brought him to the school two months earlier, he was a small fragile thing you could sit on your lap. Now as I opened the car door and he hopped out, he stood there tall, coltish, two times larger. He was now a teenager. You couldn’t make him sit on your lap anymore.
Jonathan met me and examined my doggy equipment. I had everything wrong. Spot needed a “training collar” not that red flat collar he was using. His corded leash can cause rope burns in the hand. He advised me to get a choke chain and a flat leash.
I had seen choke chains before. Eleven years earlier when we started to have Boxers, I gifted my dad with dog training lessons for his first Boxer named Alpha. A trainer named Nathan came to the house every other day to pick up Alpha and he’d take her out into the neighborhood away from my dad’s sight. After several sessions, at the end of that obedience course, he “passed the authority” to my dad by teaching him how to give the basic commands to the dog.
My dad didn’t fully understand that last session of instruction with Nathan, of course. Just say “Heel,” walk forward, tug the collar and say “Slowly” when the dog walks too fast? What if the dog saw a cat? Wants to poo? Another dog wants to attack it? All the more when he taught it to us. If he didn't understand what he was doing, would we be better at it? We each processed his instruction differently. Our timing and signals differed from person to person. But we used a choke chain. To me, choke chains didn’t seem to effectively control a strong muscular Boxer like Alpha and I wished that Nathan could do “follow-up” lessons with us because we had unanswered questions. But he had gone and never got in touch with us anymore.
After a short evaluation of the equipment I used on Spot, Jonathan did what Nathan also did: with the dog in a borrowed choke chain, he walked Spot away from my sight while his wife distracted me with talk. Minutes later he returned to show me something: Spot could obey him perfectly. A command and tug at the choke chain and Spot sat. Another command and tug and Spot walked beside Jonathan obediently as they walked together in a circle.
I was dazzled. It took him only minutes to get that dog to obey. Jonathan grinned proudly from ear to ear as I expressed my wonderment and surprise. Impressed, I signed Spotty up for basic lessons on obedience.
Crying Signals
My boss in that magazine company must’ve been pleased because I was suddenly appearing for work even when I didn’t have to go there that often. The reason was because Spotty was going to school! I’d wake up early in the morning, dress and ready the dog, then we’d go to Jonathan’s dog school a good distance away through rush hour traffic to the eastern part of town. I’d drop the dog off and proceed further to Antipolo City
One morning, before that first week was over, I woke Spot up to prepare him for school. Spot emerged from under my dresser table (he had outgrown his puppy crate) where he had a cushion – and limped.
Huh? I watched the dog display his limp as he crossed my bedroom towards the door. How can the dog go through his heeling lessons with his trainer if he had an injury?
But I knew the dog didn't limp two days ago when he came home from the dog school. Neither did I notice him limp last night before he went to bed. How did he suddenly get that injury?
But I knew the dog didn't limp two days ago when he came home from the dog school. Neither did I notice him limp last night before he went to bed. How did he suddenly get that injury?
I agonized for the right decision but as the morning wore on, the limp persisted. Finally I had to leave to beat the rush hour traffic. I decided not to bring him to school.
I went out to the carport when I saw Spot and the other dogs in the driveway. We ordered them to go inside the house. The gate was going to be opened, my car was going to back out, and a dog might try to dash out into the street. To my surprise, Spot walked normally up the front steps. The limp had suddenly disappeared. I figured when he found out he wasn’t going to the school he suddenly got well.
I laughed at that and compared it to a kid undergoing psychosomatic symptoms of school stress. I thought it was amusing.
In the weeks to come, the dog exhibited other symptoms. By the second week of school, whenever the car arrived to the gate of the dog school Spot visibly trembled in his seat. But I was determined. I wanted him trained. Being in magazine production I was familiar with stress – and all the ways I’ve tried to cope with it. The next time we left for the school I popped an anti-stress vitamin capsule into the dog’s mouth. Spot slept peacefully in his seat all the way to the school and when we arrived at the gate an hour later, the dog sat up to peer out the window visibly relaxed. I thought I got that solved.
A few weeks later again, I discovered bald patches on Spot’s coat at home. The beautiful dog was losing his hair. I blamed Jonathan for fungus. Maybe one of his dogs at the kennel was infecting my dog, I complained. I took Spot to the veterinarian and the vet diagnosed it as “stress.”
Huh?
“Did the dog go through any major changes the past weeks?” she asked.
“He’s going to a dog school,” I said, amused at the diagnosis, comparing Spot’s emotional upset to a child’s “school stress.” I didn't know that time that dogs go through that too.
The vet recommended a special shampoo, a high dose of vitamin A for a month, plus a multivitamin capsule. I put the dog on “leave” from Jonathan’s school for a few weeks.
(next post below)
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