Another 100,000 reps and we'll be there

As I type this, my right hand is only beginning to warm up. It spent the last 45 minutes more out of its mitten than in, in a flat zero-degrees, fumbling for liver treats in a frozen plastic bag, being licked by warm dog tongue, fumbling for more treats.

But it was worth it. Riley was terrific.

This was a non-book-writing morning for me, so Doug and I took the dogs together--always easier, as you know. I made Riley sit and look at me every block or so, and he obeyed, every single time. And then we had our first big test: a noisy city truck rumbling along Gateway Parkway. I told him to sit and watch me, and he did. He did! This was huge. The truck rumbled past, I gave him a treat and praised him, and he turned and made a half-hearted lurch in the truck's general direction but by then it was nearly around the bend. He did not bark.

Oh, what a little victory.

We had more successes, too: He sat and watched me as a woman walked past. (But perhaps it was a woman he wouldn't have barked at anyway; it's impossible to know.) He sat and watched me as a front-end loader moved snow around over by the Conservatory.

There was one setback: He lunged and barked at that strange bicyclist who rounds the trails every morning, winter and summer, wearing a giant ballcap under his big white helmet. But the cyclist came around a bend rather suddenly and surprised us: I was too clumsy in trying to swiftly remove my mitten, fumble for the treats. By then it was all over. Bark, lunge. I made him sit afterward and treated him, but I'm not sure I was supposed to; was that rewarding him for barking?

The most significant victory was at the end of the walk, when a school bus roared past us. Riley started to jump, and then clearly thought better of it and turned to look at me, instead, and sat. Oh, boy, he got liver then, baby. Liver galore.

Even as I tell you of his successes, I must also confess that I am doing the training slightly wrong. The Victoria Stillwell method, as near as I can figure, requires that I grow several more arms, something I have not been able to achieve on short notice.

You're supposed to do the "watch me" gesture without a treat in that hand; the treat is to be concealed behind your back, coming out only after the dog has obeyed. There's a good reason for this: If the dog knows you have a treat, he also knows when you don't have a treat, and he's likely to learn to obey only when he sees the reward in your hand. If it's concealed, he'll obey every time.

But if I have a treat in one hand, and a leash in another, and maybe a clicker in another, and maybe a poop bag in another, and an empty hand for the gesture, well, that's more hands than I have.

My compromise was clumsy, but it worked: pull off my mitten, fumble in my pocket for a treat, slide the mitten back on, do the gesture, pull off the mitten, give him the treat, put the mitten back on.

The walk took a little longer than usual. But I was happy. Cold, but happy.