This post was written by guest blogger John Dancy.
Rehabilitation Lesson One
Our first session of working with Candy took place, not at a kennel, but at the Timberlyne Shopping Center in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Gene’s business is located nearby. Ann and I live a few miles away.
Gene and I sat at an outdoor table, outside the Cup A Joe coffee shop. Gene situated Candy between us on the sidewalk, where she could watch people, and be close to traffic. Gene explained, “We’re not training Candy yet; we’re rehabilitating her.”
I discovered the first one needing to be rehabilitated was me. He said, in so many words, “You’re expecting too much from her. You want her to piddle and poop on your schedule, and that’s not going to happen. She’ll go when she’s ready.” He explained that one of the first things to do was establish a routine at home. “Keep her in her crate when she’s inside. She will not mess in her crate. Take her outside every few hours, and walk her around. If she doesn’t go in five minutes or so, put her back in the crate. It will give you some peace of mind, and on one of the occasions when she’s out, she will take care of her business.” Gene suggested, only half in jest, that I go home and take a valium.
As part of Candy’s rehabilitation, we took a walk around the shopping center, deliberately passing close to wheelbarrows and feed sacks at a hardware store, stopping to watch shoppers coming out of a supermarket, walking Candy into shops while Gene talked to the people working there. All of this was aimed at getting Candy to realize she could be in public, with things happening, and none of it would hurt her. It was a world of new experiences for Candy, whose life until now had been in a kennel.
We returned to the outdoor table, and sat down while Gene explained more about his philosophy of training a dog. “It’s like the old Star Trek episodes where the cyborgs would invade the Starship Enterprise and immediately say, “Resistance is futile!” What you are trying to get Candy to understand is that you are the boss, and she’s merely along for the ride. You walk, and she stays at your side, because you use the leash to hold her there. You don’t look at her; don’t talk to her. She’s just a passenger, and resistance is futile.” True to Gene’s teaching, by the end of the hour, Candy was lying on the pavement, asleep.
Gene used an interesting technique to keep Candy at his side as he walked. He shortened the leash in his hands, so that Candy had only about a foot of play. Then, he put both hands behind his back, with a good grip on the folded leash. If Candy pulled forward, the leash was blocked by Gene’s left hip, and strong grip. To a passerby, they were just strolling, Gene with both hands behind his back, like an Englishman window shopping on Regent Street.
Homework
The education of Candy continued every day with homework. Gene’s method of holding Candy on a leash worked for me, as well. Candy would spook at a lot of things…parked cars, trash bins, mailboxes and sewer grates. But with the tight and fixed grip on her leash, she could not do much more than flinch. She could not run away. I was beginning to understand: “Resistance is futile.” For the first time, we had a successful, and pleasurable walk around the block.
