Summer vacation—days of sweet smelling flowers and evenings of warm shirt sleeve weather outdoors with friends and family. Sounds peaceful and relaxing doesn’t it? What happened?
I accepted a gift from my neighbor. He’s been bugging me about this for over a year now. “Try it out for a few days, and if you don’t want her, we’ll take her back.”
Hubby says, “That sounds like a car salesman’s hook.” I laugh, and think, I can resist. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll give her back.
My gift is Izzy, a full blooded German shepherd pup and she is a FULL time job. It’s a good thing that I have the summer off from substitute teaching or I would be a total wreck. And, no, I can’t give her back. Demanding, mischievous, defiant as a small child—testing and trying me at every step. Growing so fast that I barely keep her collar adjusted fast enough for the size of her neck. Can’t pick her up anymore to cuddle her—she doesn’t fit the lap (I’ve had 40 years of Lhasa Apsos and now have to get over the idea of a lap dog). Nips and bites meant as play have scarred my arms so much so that Fred says I need welder’s gloves when I handle her. This is not the fun part.
“Keep on, be persistent. She’ll be worth it. They are so smart. She’ll be such a good companion. She’ll be a great watchdog, look how her ears are developing ". . . and on, and on. I feel like I am being dragged along by a leash of hope even as I drag Izzy along because she doesn’t want to walk. Who ever heard of a German shepherd that doesn’t want to walk? Cesar Millan, Dog Whisperer, I need your help! I’m doing everything all wrong here.
Okay, so I go back to the basics. Cesar says I’ve been anxious—she won’t trust me if I put out anxious energy—Rules, Boundaries and Limitations, Cesar’s mantra. Hmmm. So, I think, remember when I started teaching. Decide on the rules, then step by baby step, teach the rules with rewards and consequences—and don’t let up for a second.
Today is a new day. I’ll give it another try. Izzy forces me out of my comfort zone, forces me to be consistent—not a bad thing when you are retired (or semi-retired); forces me to come up with new challenges for her, while challenging me to be assertive, positive, and never let her see me sweat; a puppy teaching this old dog some new tricks.
I accepted a gift from my neighbor. He’s been bugging me about this for over a year now. “Try it out for a few days, and if you don’t want her, we’ll take her back.”
Hubby says, “That sounds like a car salesman’s hook.” I laugh, and think, I can resist. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll give her back.
My gift is Izzy, a full blooded German shepherd pup and she is a FULL time job. It’s a good thing that I have the summer off from substitute teaching or I would be a total wreck. And, no, I can’t give her back. Demanding, mischievous, defiant as a small child—testing and trying me at every step. Growing so fast that I barely keep her collar adjusted fast enough for the size of her neck. Can’t pick her up anymore to cuddle her—she doesn’t fit the lap (I’ve had 40 years of Lhasa Apsos and now have to get over the idea of a lap dog). Nips and bites meant as play have scarred my arms so much so that Fred says I need welder’s gloves when I handle her. This is not the fun part.
“Keep on, be persistent. She’ll be worth it. They are so smart. She’ll be such a good companion. She’ll be a great watchdog, look how her ears are developing ". . . and on, and on. I feel like I am being dragged along by a leash of hope even as I drag Izzy along because she doesn’t want to walk. Who ever heard of a German shepherd that doesn’t want to walk? Cesar Millan, Dog Whisperer, I need your help! I’m doing everything all wrong here.
Okay, so I go back to the basics. Cesar says I’ve been anxious—she won’t trust me if I put out anxious energy—Rules, Boundaries and Limitations, Cesar’s mantra. Hmmm. So, I think, remember when I started teaching. Decide on the rules, then step by baby step, teach the rules with rewards and consequences—and don’t let up for a second.
Today is a new day. I’ll give it another try. Izzy forces me out of my comfort zone, forces me to be consistent—not a bad thing when you are retired (or semi-retired); forces me to come up with new challenges for her, while challenging me to be assertive, positive, and never let her see me sweat; a puppy teaching this old dog some new tricks.
(Izzy at 9, 11 and 12 weeks old)