School's starting in a couple of weeks. My daughter will be in second grade. More time to write - less time with her. It seems like an unfair exchange. Here's what came out of that musing.
When my daughter was very young, just learning how to speak clearly, I decided it was time to train our Shepard-mix some basic commands and tricks. I'd heard about this method called "Clicker Training" and thought we'd give it a try. I bought a clicker and we went to work.
It was really easy. Almost no work at all. I was proud of myself. Now, of course, I realize that my dog, Daisy, was eager to please. Lots of dogs aren't. We worked in short training segments several times a day. All under the watchful eye of my curious toddler. "Sit. Stay. God Dog!" over and over again.
One night I was folding laundry in the den, when I heard a little voice in the dining room. "Si- Tay- Dood Dog!" I peeked around the corner and saw Daisy patiently sitting by the refrigerator. My daughter was "training" her; perfectly imitating every move I would have made. She'd take a few steps back and say "Si- Tay- Dood Dog!" Then she'd walk up to Daisy - who hadn't budged an inch - and praise and pet her gently.
It was a comical scene since Daisy was twice our daughter's size. But I was extremely flattered.
That was the beginning of my love affair with dog training, and my daughter's lifelong obsession with dogs of every shape and size. Years later I studied and received my Dog Trainers Certification.
My daughter still seeks out dogs wherever we go. She's even included the title of dog trainer in her long list of "what-I-want-to-be-when-I-grow-up".
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