Puppy Classes

A friend invited me to puppy classes. It’s at a farm I didn’t know, so I shoved Meg in the car the day before, and we went for a reconnaissance. It’s lucky I did. The farm is up a dark lane, and is bisected by a dirt track used by lorries working at the quarry, which looms to one side in a very scary manner. We managed to not drive into the quarry, but also to not to find the farm, so I contacted my friend, and she agreed to meet me there.

At 7pm, we set off. Driving in the dark is not my favourite thing, so getting there was an adventure, especially as the roads were icy. But we made it. The next adventure was walking to the barn, through a stable of horses. Meg was great, and walked past them with interest, but no barking. Then we entered the barn, and all went to pot. There were other dogs, and Meg decided that snarling and barking was completely appropriate (because she is a German Shepherd dog, and that is what they do). The other dogs mostly ignored her, and the owners gave me sympathetic smiles. All the other dogs were older/better behaved/already perfectly trained in comparison. The barn had thick sand on the floor, and I assume is where the horses are trained.

The trainer met me, and expressed surprise that I had bought a working breed of gsd. I told her that most of the litter had gone to the police, and she asked why Meg had been sold as a pet. I wanted to explain that actually, she has improved loads since I have had her, and I have absolute belief that one day she will be great. But the last few weeks have been undeniably tough, so I said nothing. She told me that Meg would always want to work, always be completely hyper, and would be very difficult to control. I already know this. I also know that she is brave, and happy and incredibly friendly, and when she remembers that I exist, she is good company and lots of fun. The rest we will work on.

The trainer switched my dog lead for a sort of double one—clipped onto Meg’s collar and to her harness. She then directed me to walk round the barn, using the double lead like reins leading a horse. We made it round the barn a few times, though I’m not sure who was leading who. It was much easier to control Meg though, and I didn’t feel like my arm might be pulled off, which is how it usually feels.

We then all had to stand in a big circle, and tell our dogs to sit. Meg sat (I felt stupidly proud). The trainer showed me how to use a toy to play, stop, play, stop—keeping Meg occupied so she stopped concentrating on the other dogs. The other dogs all had to practice lying down when commanded, and then sitting still while their owned left them, walked round a cone, and returned. I wanted to tell the trainer that Meg can do this too—and in fact I can tell her to sit while I go upstairs with a load of washing, and she won’t move. But at the time, she was turning in circles like a wild thing and eating as much sand as she could get into her mouth, so I decided we would continue with the task we had been given.

By the end of the lesson, Meg was able to play with the toy while all the other dogs and owners walked past us. It was actually a strangely bonding activity. I felt like Meg and I were a team, working together while the rest of the class was one step ahead of us. (More than one step, probably!) As we left the barn, Meg decided to bark at the horses, and then at my friend’s dog, so it wasn’t a complete success. But it was an excellent first lesson, and hopefully we will improve. And eat less sand.

Thanks for reading. Take care.
Love, Anne x