Small Successes for the Diva Dog

This morning while I was making the bed, Calicocoa -- my diva-dog-in-training-- lumbered into the room and upon seeing me she sat down to wait. An expectant look was on her happy face.  I continued arranging the bedspread and setting the pillows in place.  As I was putting the cover over the last pillow I looked at her and said brightly, “Good girl!” At that she leaped onto the bed and collapsed onto the cushioning comforter and pillow top.  Once settled she turned her face to me, waiting for more praise and petting, which she received. 

It was a gratifying moment to see how far kindness has brought our old girl. She didn't always know that she could trust herself, much less trust us.

I recall when she first came to us nearly two years ago, she would return to bed in the mornings to take a post-breakfast nap. Since I needed to make the bed, I would quietly, but firmly, say “Get down.” This simple, calm statement would inspire fear bordering on terror, as she scrambled off of the bed and out of the room with her tail between her legs. This wasn’t the only clue we had that our sweet Calicocoa had been brought up in an environment where commands accompanied violence. 

For weeks, when I told her to get down from the bed, I tried to say the words “Good dog” before she could rush out of earshot. Eventually she slowed down enough that I could pet her and praise her properly for getting down from the bed. Always, when I finished making the bed, I called her back so she could resume her rest. Finally, she began lingering long enough to watch what I was doing, until she could anticipate when she would be called back.

Finally, she knows that she isn’t bad for being on the bed.  She is good for waiting patiently until I am done with whatever it is I’m doing every day. Now that she understands the rules, she can succeed and it seems to make her happy.

A few months later we trained her to use the dog door.  She senses a trap in every puzzling training moment, so it was slow going for her.  It took a few days to teach her to use the door, but even longer to teach her that the door was there for her to use when she desired it, as opposed to when she was told to use it. Part of the delay was that it took me a few days to surmise that she was afraid to make an independent decision to use the door. Once I understood the problem, I began by showing her a treat, then walking outside with it and calling her.  If she came through the door she received the treat.  After a couple of days of this, I stopped calling her. I could see her big nose poking through the door as she tried to decide if it was worth the risk. Eventually, she took the plunge and received her treat. Three repetitions later, she knew the back garden was her domain. 

Calicocoa has made other improvements.  As much as she detests little Griffin she tolerates his proximity and even takes a defensive posture when “strangers” get too close to him. 

She is still wary of strangers herself, but quicker to accept their presence and with certain rare visitors she warms up enough to be friendly. Last summer she met my cousin and within minutes adopted the demeanor of a cuddly 60 pound lap dog. Most of the time, we have to send her to her special spot until she is calm enough to assess the situation rationally. We may be working on Calicocoa’s stranger issues until the old girl is gone, but her definition of a friend keeps growing broader as she feels safer and trusts herself more. All she needs is love and praise. All she wants is to succeed.