Rosie only wore her conehead for the first day. She showed no interest at all in her stitches, and over the three-day holiday weekend we left it off because she was always with us, and then we just never bothered to put it on her again. She has not missed a step, racing around the house, leaping onto the couch, onto Riley, onto tabletops.
She is very good about training, except for tabletops. We're having a hard time convincing her that they aren't just one more walking surface. I might have to bring out the squirt bottle again.
In obedience class Tuesday night, she was a star. Except for the Unfortunate Peeing Incident, but trust me, for some reason this week was peeing week and she was not the only one. A big Lab actually started the class by peeing right on the instructor's foot. Two other dogs peed on the floor before Rosie finally gave in to all the excitement and odors and leaked a little puddle. But she prefers that we not concentrate on that.
Concentrate on my incredible success! she says. Tell them how smart I am! And how cute!
We worked on all the old stuff--sit, down, stand, stay, watch me, come--and added two new commands: back (which keeps a dog from rushing or crowding the door) and leave it (which keeps a dog from gobbling up something he shouldn't).
She did OK at back (although she sneaked out of the enclosed area when I turned to share a laugh with Doug, and I had to haul her back in and do it all over again). And then the instructor looked around for a high-spirited, likely-to-disobey dog on which to demonstrate "leave it." She chose Rosie.
Rosie, I am sad to say, made a terrible demonstration dog because she nailed it. First time. Second time. Third time. The instructor returned her and hunted around for a more high-spirited dog and ended up demonstrating on the bouncy and exuberant Miso, who was just bad enough that we got to see how to correct the dog during the training.
Not that Rosie required correcting. As you can see in the photo above, she showed no interest at all in the bait (a treat) and instead watched us, as commanded, with great intensity. She does everything with great intensity, and when she wants to do something and we make her stay, her entire body quivers as though she has the chills. She is a fierce little dog, fierce in her desires. But she is so so good.
This morning we practiced "leave it" with a crumpled piece of paper, a red glove she has shown interest in in the past, and a gray glove that she had stolen earlier. The secret of teaching "leave it" is that the dog can never, ever have the object that they must leave. So those gloves are off limits forever now.
She made a little lunge at the red glove, just to prove she's human, and then left everything else, quietly quivering.
Meanwhile, I stopped by my brother's house last night and picked up that last box of letters. I haven't had time to delve into it very deeply, but I see a lot of family letters, and letters from the Soviet Union. This will be interesting.