So far Mom and Dad’s trainer has introduced us to an aloof cat, a yappy puppy with a big head, a talkative parrot, and unpredictable zippy ferrets. However, nothing could have prepare us for what happened this weekend. On Saturday we were invited to once again participate in his elite class. You may recall from the last time, that class consists of professional working dogs, service dogs, and rally obedience champions, yet I came in second place in a lively game of musical heel/sit. Boy was I looking forward to winning this time!
After doing some basic warm up exercises, the trainer announced that in the spirit of March Madness we would be playing a game called “horse.” Horse?! Finally an animal I approve of to help train Mom and Dad. When I was a puppy one of my best friends was a horse named Oreo. The trainer began droning on about stations, turns, and spelling the horse’s name. Ok, to be honest I was only half listening, because I was excited to meet the horse.
Just as we were about to begin, one of the elite students arrived late with his mother carrying a little human. His mother apologized about babysitter plans falling through, and put down the toddler. That’s when all thoughts about playing horse were forgotten. The little human began running wildly around the room, faster and more unpredictable than last week’s ferrets, screeching louder than the cockatiel, while simultaneously babbling nonstop like the pug, and all the while ignoring the room full of dogs like that aloof cat! In short, this toddler was every distraction combined!
Asa was the first to break from his sit and started wildly jumping about at the end of his leash anxious to play with his new best friend. It’s been months since he acted like that, so Dad was completely caught off-guard and could barely control him. Simultaneously, a couple of the rally obedience competitors began to squirm and react, while the professional K9s looked on and laughed. Ok, I admit, even I jumped off my pedestal, forcing Mom to lunge and grab my leash. But that was only because the toddler grabbed the tennis balls stored in a bucket near me, and started wildly throwing them around the room. Not to brag, but I caught one. However, everything was too chaotic then for anyone to notice my fetch prowess, as the toddler’s mother raced around the room after him. My Mom just glanced down, noticed the tennis ball in my mouth, and smiled.
Without missing a beat, the trainer began dividing the class for the game, or so I thought. Some were directed to the other side of the classroom. Others, including Asa, myself, and two other dog teams, were told to do a down/stay where we already were standing. Did he make that troublesome toddler leave? Nope, he let that disruptive little human continue playing. Worst yet, rather than join in the game, he made those of us that he told to stay in place practice our sit, down, heel, and stand, with our well-trained humans. Would you believe he even called that disobedient toddler over to “help” with my Mom and Dad’s obedience?
As the child ran, shrieked, and explored all the training props, one by one the trainer would work with each of us helping with whatever skill our human was having trouble with in this high distraction situation. All the while Asa was barely keeping it together, as he watched the child play. I admit I was having trouble focusing too, because I was still hoping to meet the horse he talked about at the start of class. As I anxiously watched that other group taking turns playing their game, I longed to join them, and started to ignore Mom. She’s trained enough, I wanted to play. Big mistake. The trainer saw my intentions, and made us part of the game. However, not as competitors, he made us props! Asa and I had to remain in a down/stay while the elite students effortlessly weaved around us doing their commands, while inexplicably spelling h-o-r-s-e every so often and laughing. It was humiliating!
In the end though, I suppose it was good training for Mom and Dad because they very rarely hang out with toddlers, yet we do run into them from time to time on our adventures. So although I was disappointed that the initial promise of playing horse didn’t happen, I was pleased that I learned some new tricks by watching the more experienced teams. Before we left Mom and Dad happily thanked their trainer for inviting them to this class, because they learned some really good techniques. That’s when Mom and Dad’s trainer put on the biggest smile, and admitted none of this was planned for us, but it was the “ultimate training distraction!”
