Follow the bouncing ball

Speaking of puppies…  Tessa Blue our (now) seven month old Australian Shepherd pup has been giving us all plenty of exercise since she joined our pack on September 11. I’ve never had such a talky dog. Molly Bloom is a quiet girl four years Tessa’s senior who will come and get you if she wants to go out. Tess, on the other hand, will sort of whimper and then she’ll yip and then she’ll stand by the front door waiting for me to leash her up and take her out. She also uses that whimper, yip, grunty pig-dog voice to express satisfaction with life, or dissatisfaction, or to note the arrival or departure of people, cats, and other dogs. She always seems to have something to say. In fact, like with a kid, when she’s quiet in another room you start to worry what she’s up to. In fact, I better check…

She had the living room rug rolled back and was working on the fringe. She’s either teething or she’s part beaver. She hasn’t done the damage Molly did while teething, but maybe that’s because I follow her around and tediously correct her behavior—a lot. As I was saying, she’s a very vocal dog and it’s taken her the better part of two months to teach me her language. Meanwhile, Beth and I have amused ourselves by taking her to obedience class.

The obedience class is run on the principles of classical conditioning. There are a dozen dogs there. Tessa wants to make friends and she’s used to getting her own way, so there’s a lot of whining combined with self strangulation by trying to stretch the leash to reach Bruno, a beautiful dog that appears to be some kind of Bloodhound/Great Dane mix. Bruno, a little older and wiser remains aloof.

They teach us to use both a clicker and treats to reinforce behaviors, and they teach us a sleight of hand that influences the dog to perform. Moving the treat forward over her forehead while saying “Tessa, sit!” makes her sit. She looks up at the treat, gets a little off balance, sits, and I click the clicker and give her a treat.

Alpo Liv-a-Snaps are our treat of choice. I break them in pieces, four or five per Liv-a-Snap. Tess seems as happy with just a taste as when I slip her the whole thing. When Tessa gets a treat, Molly often gets a treat, and vice versa. I’m handing out a lot of treats.

We ditched the clickers after the first couple of classes. With dogs that understand the English language it seems subtly demeaning to go all Pavlovian on them. Words Tessa understands besides her name include sit, down, stay, come, leash, walk, potty, NO!, names of toys, and a bunch of silly lovey talk. Her vocabulary will expand like Molly’s has, and before too long she’ll make an excellent contract bridge partner. At this point her vocabulary exceeds her social skills. Just because she knows the word “Come!” doesn’t mean she will do that. On the other hand if you mention the frisbee, she’ll be happy to point it out and let you get it yourself. Molly, at four and half a much more cooperative dog, will get the frisbee or the ball if you ask her too. I’m reminded of TV “Lassie.” There was always some choice dialog, like “Get the crescent wrench, Lassie.” “Woof,” she’d reply and off she’d go. In a few minutes she’d return and Timmy would say, “No, NOT the socket wrench, the crescent wrench.” “Woof,” she’d say and off she’d go again. Molly is right there with Lassie: “No, not the bluetooth adapter, Molly—the THUMB DRIVE!” “Woof…”

Tonight Tessa made another break through in mad dog skillz. When we go out on the pasture and I throw the ball for them, or the frisbee, Molly takes off and catches it. Tessa runs shepherd circles around her, and Molly evades Tessa, and pretty soon she’s dropped the frisbee at my feet and I hurl it again. Tessa has been perfectly lame about catching anything. Tonight, I asked her to sit, moved four or five feet away from her, and bounced a tennis ball on the floor. She caught it on the bounce and she gave it back, and we played that game over and over. She’s on her way to frisbee stardom!