I am in this training class where I am learning how to go on walks. I don’t want to be in the class, so I either have my eye on the door, or I look out the window into the store for potential friends. To do this, I turn my back on the rest of the class.
The suck-y thing about this is Shelley bribes me with food to sit, stay, go to my bed and lie down until she says, “All done.” I want the food, and being a smart dog and all, I figure out what Shelley wants from me and do it. I don’t always get it the first time, or I get distracted by sights, sounds and especially smells. Even so, I catch on, just for the sake of my treat.
As for going on walks, I am in control. If I don’t want to walk, I dig in my heels and push out my forepaws, and Shelley ends up pulling me. She’s pulled me for two or three blocks at a time. I overheard her tell her mom that the trainer who teaches our class said I won’t get hurt. Pulling me is one way to get me to do what she wants. I don’t think so.
I’d rather walk when I want to walk. This is how I take walks: sniff every little smell in a one-foot radius, and then go onto the next foot. Back track. Walk in circles. Run. Walk. Stop. I’m not a mover and a shaker. I’m about stopping and smelling the smells, or the roses as you humans put it.
