I know the title of this post seems crass. It is, I was, and I probably should apologize publicly in some fashion to the other people on trails at Kennesaw Mountain this morning who likely heard the irritated, breathy muttering (or louder) of the word frequently during the run.
Dog training normally begins with baby steps, toddler steps, pre-teen... You get the picture, you don't just pick up a dog one day and put them in some performance situation and expect them to know what they are doing. That's the point of training, using building blocks to create bridges between the necessary skills, one at a time until you chain enough together to perform.I don't do slow well. I always push the envelope, always have and I should probably quit trying to be surprised when that habit smacks me upside the head on occasion as if I should know better.
Training Edge to run with Stetson and I seems like a good idea. I have laid out the steps I think are necessary to build him to the point of being able to go a reasonable duration on trail. We began on the road, ventured to the trails at the river which are wide, flat and have very few foot obstacles that require my attention, thus I can focus on the puppy. Do you see where I was going with this action plan? Taking the process one step at a time...he has been doing really well and I have begun to not dread taking him with us as he's learning enough that I can actually use a normal stride and be reasonably comfortable with him in hand.
All week I've been planning on a run today, the day after Thanksgiving. Dave had to work, so I was up and ready early to head to the mountain with JUST Stetson. It would be so nice to have some time with just my boy and I. The temperature was 27 degrees and I was really excited as I pulled the truck out of the garage to load. Coming back into the house, I see Edge in the entry. Such an eager and happy boy! I walked into the kitchen and prepared our water bottles and post run goodies, (recovery I swear). I headed back out to the truck to put things in and when I returned into the house I had two leashes and two collars in my hand. Oops. Oh well, I thought. He's been so good and tries so hard, it could be fun, so I loaded both dogs into the truck. The moment your decision is no longer based on the big picture is the moment you open yourself up to a whole lot of dammit. And so it began shortly thereafter.
It started immediately, just barely onto the trail and out of the parking lot. I fumbled to find my "hidden" pocket for my keys and both leashes fell out of my hands and to the ground. Stetson stood by me, but Edge had his nose in the wet leaves and was off like a flash. Zoomies around the parking lot as I muttered the first dammit and called his name sweetly, another round of zoomies and I began walking the other way hoping he'd at least do a fly by and I could grab or stomp on the lead. Well he didn't, something moved or fell or whatever in the woods and he stopped dead and put all his energy forward looking intently into the woods. Okay, now I think I'm completely in more trouble that I can imagine when he glances over to me as I called his name. At the moment he looked our way, Stetson, my hero, flopped into a play bow and woofed at him. Edge came flying over and pounced on Stetson and I took the leash in my then frozen hand as if he'd been by my side all along.
I probably achieved the cardio workout intended without having moved ten yards yet, but it didn't end there. We cross below the Illinois Monument and begin a downhill stretch of path when I realize that this was the first time I'd been out on a trail with my new contact lens, with improved reading capability, but slightly reduced distance ability. Looking down at the leaves quickly passing beneath my feet, I realize that the path is a bit blurred. Another curse as I slip on the heavily covered wet leaves. Okay, let's walk a bit. Blink, walk, blink, blink and my eyes seem to adjust quickly to the new prescription and we're off again.
It didn't take long to realize that Edge had too much lead to keep him from lunging and pulling in his excitement. By coiling his leash a couple of times I could keep him close enough to me that a leash correction caught his attention and he quickly remembered to not pull. At this point, I'm feeling okay. We've been up a few inclines and walked a few descents when we came to a nice area of flat trail. I decided to keep Edge in and let Stetson have his full six feet of leash. Yes, this seems to be working well and I allow myself my full stride for the first time. Taking a short choppy stride is a defense mechanism I developed when running with Maddie and Nakeeta because it gave me better control to keep myself upright in the event they decided to try to chase a squirrel or pull hard on the lead for whatever reason. It works to stay upright, but it actually kills my lower back and causes extra strain on my knees. So letting go felt really good. Until we approach a horse pile that apparently was beyond temptation for Edge. Here's the lineup; Edge on my left and barely a shoulder in front of me, Me at full stride, horse poop pile on my right. One stride into it and he cuts in front of me with his head bending down. I'll let your imagination take you wherever you wish to go regarding my verbal reaction to this one. Thankfully I didn't fall, except in good nature.
The rest of the run was pretty smooth. By the time we hit three miles he was relaxed and into the groove of things. I don't much like the first three miles anyway. And then here's this face coming out of the crate at me later. He isn't trying to get out of the crate to run off, he's trying to get to me with big happy kisses. Yes little man, it was still much better than "Black Friday" shopping or a day at the office.
Dog training normally begins with baby steps, toddler steps, pre-teen... You get the picture, you don't just pick up a dog one day and put them in some performance situation and expect them to know what they are doing. That's the point of training, using building blocks to create bridges between the necessary skills, one at a time until you chain enough together to perform.I don't do slow well. I always push the envelope, always have and I should probably quit trying to be surprised when that habit smacks me upside the head on occasion as if I should know better.
Training Edge to run with Stetson and I seems like a good idea. I have laid out the steps I think are necessary to build him to the point of being able to go a reasonable duration on trail. We began on the road, ventured to the trails at the river which are wide, flat and have very few foot obstacles that require my attention, thus I can focus on the puppy. Do you see where I was going with this action plan? Taking the process one step at a time...he has been doing really well and I have begun to not dread taking him with us as he's learning enough that I can actually use a normal stride and be reasonably comfortable with him in hand.
All week I've been planning on a run today, the day after Thanksgiving. Dave had to work, so I was up and ready early to head to the mountain with JUST Stetson. It would be so nice to have some time with just my boy and I. The temperature was 27 degrees and I was really excited as I pulled the truck out of the garage to load. Coming back into the house, I see Edge in the entry. Such an eager and happy boy! I walked into the kitchen and prepared our water bottles and post run goodies, (recovery I swear). I headed back out to the truck to put things in and when I returned into the house I had two leashes and two collars in my hand. Oops. Oh well, I thought. He's been so good and tries so hard, it could be fun, so I loaded both dogs into the truck. The moment your decision is no longer based on the big picture is the moment you open yourself up to a whole lot of dammit. And so it began shortly thereafter.
It started immediately, just barely onto the trail and out of the parking lot. I fumbled to find my "hidden" pocket for my keys and both leashes fell out of my hands and to the ground. Stetson stood by me, but Edge had his nose in the wet leaves and was off like a flash. Zoomies around the parking lot as I muttered the first dammit and called his name sweetly, another round of zoomies and I began walking the other way hoping he'd at least do a fly by and I could grab or stomp on the lead. Well he didn't, something moved or fell or whatever in the woods and he stopped dead and put all his energy forward looking intently into the woods. Okay, now I think I'm completely in more trouble that I can imagine when he glances over to me as I called his name. At the moment he looked our way, Stetson, my hero, flopped into a play bow and woofed at him. Edge came flying over and pounced on Stetson and I took the leash in my then frozen hand as if he'd been by my side all along.
I probably achieved the cardio workout intended without having moved ten yards yet, but it didn't end there. We cross below the Illinois Monument and begin a downhill stretch of path when I realize that this was the first time I'd been out on a trail with my new contact lens, with improved reading capability, but slightly reduced distance ability. Looking down at the leaves quickly passing beneath my feet, I realize that the path is a bit blurred. Another curse as I slip on the heavily covered wet leaves. Okay, let's walk a bit. Blink, walk, blink, blink and my eyes seem to adjust quickly to the new prescription and we're off again.
It didn't take long to realize that Edge had too much lead to keep him from lunging and pulling in his excitement. By coiling his leash a couple of times I could keep him close enough to me that a leash correction caught his attention and he quickly remembered to not pull. At this point, I'm feeling okay. We've been up a few inclines and walked a few descents when we came to a nice area of flat trail. I decided to keep Edge in and let Stetson have his full six feet of leash. Yes, this seems to be working well and I allow myself my full stride for the first time. Taking a short choppy stride is a defense mechanism I developed when running with Maddie and Nakeeta because it gave me better control to keep myself upright in the event they decided to try to chase a squirrel or pull hard on the lead for whatever reason. It works to stay upright, but it actually kills my lower back and causes extra strain on my knees. So letting go felt really good. Until we approach a horse pile that apparently was beyond temptation for Edge. Here's the lineup; Edge on my left and barely a shoulder in front of me, Me at full stride, horse poop pile on my right. One stride into it and he cuts in front of me with his head bending down. I'll let your imagination take you wherever you wish to go regarding my verbal reaction to this one. Thankfully I didn't fall, except in good nature.
The rest of the run was pretty smooth. By the time we hit three miles he was relaxed and into the groove of things. I don't much like the first three miles anyway. And then here's this face coming out of the crate at me later. He isn't trying to get out of the crate to run off, he's trying to get to me with big happy kisses. Yes little man, it was still much better than "Black Friday" shopping or a day at the office.
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