Every good trainer I know has taught their dogs that being in the crate is a lovely, homey, comfortable, snoozy place to be. They can bring their dogs to class—or anywhere else—and their dogs chillax in their crate while their people teach. Competitors bring crates to trials and dogs chillax in the crate, catching up on their powernaps so when it's finally their turn to step into the limelight they can rock out.
My dog? We were stuck last week and due to our schedule had to bring Izzy to our accountant's office. So I bring my receipts, my 1040 (or whatever ginourmous number) forms, some good long-lasting chews, and her crate. This is the crate that I have conditioned by making sure that all sorts of good things happen there. Liver falls from the sky when Izzy is in the crate. Chicken appears out of nowhere. Green tripe spontaneously sprouts. The crate is a magic treat box. Enter it and good things happen.
So we get to our accountant's, set up the crate, throw in a yummy chew. Little dog prances in happily and chews away. For four minutes. Then it's whining, scratching, crying, yipping, digging, and all sorts of hellish behavior.
I am mortified. Embarrassed. Discouraged. And completely sure that I suck as a dog trainer. If I can't get my own dog to settle happily, how can I have the gall to tell others how to do so?
Later in the week, my family came over for a holiday brunch. Iz and I performed some of our new Freestyle moves for them. My five-year old niece took Izzy for a walk in the park and threw a ball for her. The two of them even found a nice patch of clover to roll around in together (Why didn't I bring my camera?). My sister called me later that day to tell me how much she and my niece enjoyed Iz and how amazing it was to watch us work together. My sister said that Izzy never takes her eyes off me.
So maybe I don't suck as a trainer. Maybe, I'm actually a good dog trainer. My dog likes working with me. She likes playing with me. She likes being with me. We can still work on the crate thing. And I guess I need to stop worrying about who Izzy isn't and focus on who she is.
Do I say that all the time? How many times does one have to learn a lesson for it to stick?
