I am a worrier.
I also have a wildly overactive imagination.
The imagining thing serves me well in my job, but – combined with the worrying – it’s an epic fail when it comes to dog training.
This past weekend, Cooper was invited to a doggy play date at this really peaceful park out in a pretty rural area of southern Indiana. I jump on any opportunity to do something new with Cooper, especially if it includes meeting lots of new dogs, so I agreed. But I hesitated.
The problem?
The park wasn’t fenced in. At all.
So I took John, too, because I figured he’d be able to chase down Cooper if he ran awry.
(Quick aside: I’ve been working on recall with Cooper nonstop. We practice every day. In fact, I took him to the fenced in park today to practice. It’s just that Lucas is an escape artist and a runner, so I’m never, ever, ever confident in having these guys off leash. Unless we’re in a fully-enclosed park. Because my over-active, worry-filled imagination has imagined every worst case scenario that could possibly happen if Lucas got away. So I really, really want Cooper to be reliable since we have the opportunity to start with him so young.)
Here’s what happened:
All the dogs got along swimmingly. I unclipped Cooper’s leash, and they started running and chasing each other. It was super muddy because of all the rain, so the dogs were having a blast digging and pouncing and tackling each other.
Two of the dogs tore off away from the people with Cooper in hot pursuit.
I grabbed John’s arm. “That’s too far. They’re too far away. We couldn’t get there fast enough if something happens. That’s TOO FAR.”
“They’re fine,” he said.
So then I started thinking… This is super rural. What if he gets lost? What if he wants to come back, but he can’t find his way? The other dogs are so much faster; they probably left him in their wake, and he’s probably in the woods freaking out because he can’t figure out how to get back or where his friends went. There was a house a few miles down the road with like 30 cats crawling across their front porch. What if he ends up there and the cats attack him and they have some weird disease that’s transmittable from cat to dog? Or what if someone grabs him and wants to keep him, so they take his collar off instead of calling us? I bet there’s a pack of coyotes out there. What if he runs into their den or crosses the mama out looking for food? Or what if he runs to the road that’s like 5 miles away and is hit by a car? What if he eats a frog?
I squinted along the tree line and started to walk in that direction. I could not believe all the other people were so calm and they couldn’t see their dogs! Where, oh where, had Cooper gone?
“John, I’m panicking.”
“I can see that,” he said.
Of course, 30 seconds later, Cooper burst out of the trees and sprinted straight for us. The other two dogs weren’t with him, but they followed another 30 seconds after Cooper. So then I nearly burst because I was so flipping proud of him for coming back so quickly and with such enthusiasm. I spent the entire hour showering him with treats. If he even glanced in my direction, I chased him down to give him treats.
“Even though he just ran with a pack of dogs for the last hour,” John said, “I think he ate more calories than he burned.”
I didn’t care. He came back. Every. single. time.
Will I be more confident the next time we attend this play date? Probably not… but I’m working on it. And Cooper’s using positive reinforcement to train me to be confident in him, you know, since he came back each time.
As we climbed into the car, Cooper was asleep before he was settled into the backseat.
“Did you get any good pictures or videos?” John asked. “Or were you too busy panicking.”
“Panicking.”
Maybe next time.
That’s not a dog training failure at all! Your title mislead me! That’s a good pet owner and concerned doggy mama, and since I also have a tendency to panic over things, I totally understood. 🙂
I’m glad I’m not the only one who panics! 🙂 I do think that my dogs behave far better with much greater consistency when I can remain calm… I think the panic and worry is my biggest dog training failure because it totally rubs off on them. With Cooper, I don’t think he picks up on it as much as Emmett and Lucas. At least not yet. But, like with training my boys, MY training is still a work in progress!
mommi would have been wight thewe panicking wif you. She doesn’t twust me in an open awea..I have too much of an adventoowous spiwit and will only come when I feel like it. I’m gweat at the wun , ow at home, but when thewe is wildewness, not so much.
I’m just glad Coopew had such a gweat time and is now safe and happy at home
smoochie kisses
ASTA
You are so not a failure, you are awesome! And the worrying just means you are a good mom. I do the same thing, so that is what I tell myself, too. I am the same exact way – I tend to think the worst without giving a thought to what the best might be. I just call it ‘preparation’. You know, in case the worst does happen, I’ll be prepared. 😉 But Cooper did great and that is all because of you.
I think many pet owners are the same way you are, and I think that is normal. We care so much for our pets, that we want to make sure we do everything we can to protect him. Happy to hear that Cooper surprised you, though! He sounds like such a good pup!
that sounds like a success!!
Thanks, guys! I would say that Cooper was successful… not me! I think if I could feel more confident and trust in them more, they’d probably live up to it. I just need to work much harder to give them that leeway. Hmmm. I wonder if this is how parents of teenagers feel…
That’s exactly my worry-wart train of thought with my girls! There is a happy medium – for me, I make myself suppress my worry (vocally at least) until I haven’t seen the dogs for 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, we call, they come back and the 5-minute internal timer starts all over again. It takes practice (at worrying less) and many good recalls before I even got to the point that I wouldn’t be worrying for the first 60 seconds. But we wouldn’t be such good doggie momma’s if we didn’t worry – I believe that’s what they call “our job”.
Sounds just like me!
Maggie, I am just like you! I would have been completely distraught. Thank goodness for John and Rod, who balance us out. 🙂
there’s a training exercise: when your dog runs off, you hide behind a tree or something. And then wait. For EVER! (which turns out only to be a minute or 2) and your dog, realizing you’re not with him, comes back to find you.
Personally I was only ever able to do this in a fenced in area because I like you, am just too paranoid and untrusting…
Better..but YOU still need lots of training..poor Cooper, but I am happily surprised at his resilience toward your (self proclaimed) insecurity. Dogs can be such amazing creatures.
Oh my gosh…..I have spent a lot of time today looking at your old posts.. you crack me up!!
I can’t wait to spend some real time reading more instead of just looking at all your adorable pictures. I did read this one – becuase we just had a converstion like this a week or so ago.
My husbands parents live “up north” and you see maybe 2 -3 cars go by a day. We love it up there and so do all the dogs that visit. My problem is I was no way no how going to let my dogs be unteathereed to something!
After a lot of talking and 4 trips up there I calmed down and let my troublemaker (Truman – 1 of 2 Puggles) walk around with a leash on – but we did not hold it. It went very well and I ended up very very happy.
I am glad to see it is not just me with all my crazy overprotective-ness!!