NEW TRICKS, OLD DOG

NEW TRICKS, OLD DOG

As the saying goes - "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" has many
connotations but I am here to tell you that: An Old Dog Can Teach His
Mom and Dad New Tricks. I haven't taken a lot of time teaching Dakota
new tricks as he had other issues that too precedence. He learned one or
two just so he would be proud of himself and have fun at the same time
while adapting to a new Forever Home.

It seems that Dakota has pretty much settled into his new home with his
senior parents and he has gained quite a bit of confidence. He decided
it was time to show us how smart he really is. The fun part is that he
has taken on this project very casually and carefully so as not to
arouse suspicion.

As part of his training in separation anxiety and storm fear, I rewarded
him with tasty tidbits of his treat bones. I break them up into
bite-sized pieces in order to keep his weight down. Each piece went to
something that he responded well to. As with most dogs, he caught on
quickly and would head for his treat jar after he knew he was a good boy
and had been lavished with praise.

This has pretty much gone on for months without alteration. At first I
didn't notice subtle little changes happening. I was very busy one
morning getting coffee made and doing some extra morning chores before I
sat down with the paper, coffee, and TV. I was preoccupied with getting
Imus on when I noticed a Golden nose in my face. Quietly he stood in
front of me. I asked him if something was wrong when I saw his stare was
focused on his other treat jar next to my side of the couch. Not
thinking, I quickly reached in and gave him a piece while apologizing to
him that I was sorry I forgot to give him one when he came in from his
morning duties. Now mind you, my age is creeping up on me and I do have
memory lapses of insignificant proportion. I had actually given him one
when he came in but forgot. Dakota may be a senior too but he is not as
dumb as his counterpart – me.

The winter days went on. Habits and routines are hard to break when you
become a senior citizen. It wasn't until recently that I began to
realize that this clever Golden was hitting me up for a treat when he
came in and had added another to his allotment when I sat down with the
morning coffee, paper, and TV.

With no snow on the ground we were hit with a deep freeze spell like we
hadn't seen in years. My husband and I went into our team work mode.
Dakota was having trouble making it back to the house in the early
morning hours and late night before bed. With no snow on the ground I
thought he would not be troubled by freezing feet. Such was not the
case. Enter standby husband. He was only needed twice during the several
plus long weeks. Yes, Dakota got a treat for going out in any weather
and doing his duty. However, he didn't get one at night because when he
came in, I took him upstairs to bed and gave him his bedtime treats
along with our bedtime routine. Well, that was until my husband
unwittingly and generously gave him a treat one very cold night when I
was busy closing the door and pulling the curtain to keep the cold out.
He didn't know that Dakota didn't get a treat for his evening event. My
husband is older than I am and his memory is more flawed than mine.
Perhaps it's just a matter of spoiling his gentle giant but he made the
same error several times during that arctic freeze. Dakota wasn't about
to let another opportunity slip by. He tried valiantly to capitalize on
my husband's mistake. Alas, he had to deal with me and it didn't work
that time.

How he got started on his treat in my office is still in question. My
instinct tells me that the ghosts of a Springer and a Golden were
hanging around and helped out on this one. I had no treats in my office
after Melodie and Chaucie said goodbye within one year. However, my
routine was in progress of getting my computer on, the radio on, the
heater [it was winter and my office is over our garage] set when I felt
the presence of one canine sitting by my chair just slightly behind me.
That stare, quiet as it was, just went through me like a hot knife
through butter. I turned and looked at him. "What's wrong, what do you
want?" I asked him. He just looked at me with those sad, brown eyes and
didn't move a muscle. But he spoke volumes. "Don't tell me you want a
treat?" I tilted my chair back so as to see his face and noticed a
slight grin in the corners of his mouth. Being the softie that I now am
in my old age, I got up, went downstairs, and put a few small pieces
into a sandwich bag. Mind you, I never considered this to be a permanent
thing at the time. This past week I brought a half bag of his new treats
up to my office. The sandwich bag has been replaced.

I could go on but you get the point. This clever dog is expanding his
ability to get rewards little by little, quietly, and methodically, day
by day. I admire his intuitiveness and enjoy watching him plan out his
next move. I'm not sure whether he realizes I've caught on, but we enjoy
playing this game with each other. He is so subtle and he goes about it
in such an interesting way. It's a joy to watch his thinking process and
the best part is whether I let him win or not. I may have gone soft in
my old age, but I have my principles and he can't or shouldn't win every
time. It would ruin the sport. You can be assured if he doesn't win, he
gets a great big hug, a smile and my encouragement to try again sometime.