THE PET TEACHER
In-YOUR-Home Dog Training
248-232-3655

  • It’s up to you to set up your dog to succeed rather than putting him in the
    position to fail.  Learn to focus on what you want from your puppy rather than on
    what you don’t want.  

  • Dogs can learn whatever YOU can find a way to teach to them, as long as it’s
    within their physical capability to perform.

  • Dogs, like humans, take the path of least resistance; they do only what works
    easily and successfully in order to satisfy their needs and desires.  If it is a
    rewarding move, they will repeat and escalate the behavior … whether that
    behavior is in harmony or conflict with your desires and goals.  Be sure that you
    set up the environment around your dog to reward only what you want.

  • Every dog has some ‘point of motivation’ that will activate his desire to respond
    to your request.  You need to find that point of motivation, be it a food reward,
    toy, playing ball, etc.

  • Training can and should be gentle, fun and easy to understand.

  • Be kind and firm, gentle and patient.  Show respect for your dog at the same
    time you show respect for good leadership steps.  Remember this is his first
    time for learning from you and your first time for teaching him.

  • Stop thinking that in order to make your dog learn better, you must first make
    them feel afraid of you.  That’s old-fashioned training thinking.

  • Punishment may work if the only goal you’re interested in is stopping the behavior
    for the short-term.  Be cautious that these short-term results don’t create long-
    term fallout of confusion, resentment, aggression, retreat or rebellion in your
    dog.

  • Learning proper timing with your communication and training techniques from a
    positive reinforcement trainer will improve your effectiveness to create the
    necessary association for your dog to become skilled.

  • The rules must be clear, concise, fair and applied consistently – by the ENTIRE
    family.  If one person allows the dog on furniture, then everyone must allow the
    dog on furniture.  If one person says Off to mean hop off the furniture, then
    everyone must use Off, not Down, not Get Off, not Leave.  A dog is a different
    species from a human.  They are not little human in furry costumes, or a toy that
    becomes animated when you wish.  Remember you are doing inter-species
    communications.

  • Don’t ask your dog to do something or use an unfamiliar word if he doesn’t know
    how to respond to it.

  • Make sure that your dog is both mentally and physically capable of responding to
    your request.

  • Your dog’s misbehaviors are only their mistaken ideas on how to achieve your
    goals and requests.  To dogs, their behaviors are normal, natural and needed.  It’s
    only when you bring them into your home that you change those natural behaviors
    to unwanted behaviors.  You cannot be an effective teacher for your dog unless
    you learn why it’s natural for you dog to want to use these ‘mistaken ideas’ so you
    can then turn them into wanted behaviors.

  • Mistakes are great learning opportunities for both species to learn about each
    other.
BETTER COMMUNICATIONS WITH YOUR NEW PUPPY
How Could You?                              

A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan took out a full page ad in the paper to present the following
essay to the people of a Michigan community.

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a
number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was
"bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent, and roll me over for a
bellyrub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that
together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and
I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops
for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun
waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I
waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad
decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog
person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you
were happy.

Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they
smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of
my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of
love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked
fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their
touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be. I would
sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your
car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet
and told them stories about me.  These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had
gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does
not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of
hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her."  They shrugged and
gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to
pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy!  Please don't let them take my dog!" And
I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and
responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely
refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no
attempt to find me another good home.  They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost
my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you
had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream ... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone
who might save me.

When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate,
I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a
separate room. A blissfully quiet room.  She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry.
My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love
had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her.

The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She
gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I
used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting
and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How
could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it
was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to
fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy,
I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her.

It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of.  I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

By Jim Willis 2001