Until one has loved an animal, part
of one’s soul remains un-awakened
- Anatole France
I said no for eighteen years. I was the mother
of two active boys and the wife of a driven husband. There were scores of
ballgames, dozens of class trips, hours of homework. When they asked, over and
over and over again, if we could get a dog, I said no. I didn’t feel I could take care of one more being. Then,
suddenly it seems, they no longer came to crawl into bed with us when there was
a thunder storm. They got part time jobs, took the SAT’s, learned to drive. They
became more independent. I was surprised to find I missed taking care of a
little one. The next time they asked for a dog, I said yes. I bought some books
about dog training. How hard could it be?
We went to
North Shore Animal League and saw a cute black lab mix. He was small and needy-looking
and I was ready to take him home, but my husband, Dan, suggested we stop at a pet
store before making a final decision. I didn’t want to support the puppy mill
trade, but agreed to go to satisfy Dan. What I didn’t know is that Dan and our
son, Justin, had seen a puppy at the pet shop the night before. They had a
plan.
We walked
into Shake-a-Paw in Hicksville. The store smelled of excrement, cedar shavings,
and disinfectant. The shrill bark of dozens of puppies clamoring for attention
pierced our ears. They were all in a makeshift corral, furry babies walking
clumsily on eight-week-old legs. Some were wrestling like bear cubs, playfully
biting and tumbling. Others pleaded for our attention as though they knew we
held the promise of love and care.
Dan called
out to me, “Honey, come look at this one.”
He was in a
small crate by himself, a yellow Labrador retriever puppy, a fur ball with
soulful eyes and floppy ears. There’s a reason advertisers use yellow lab pups
to sell products. He was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. “Wanna hold him?”
asked Dan.
The cubicle
could fit only one of us. My husband and sons encouraged me to go in. The
salesperson brought two lab pups, a black and a chocolate, into the cubicle.
The black one barked constantly, the chocolate kept jumping, scratching my bare
legs with sharp little claws. She handed me the yellow one. He looked at me
with sad eyes and settled quietly against my chest. I fell in love. There was
no way I was going home without him. I looked at Dan without saying a word and
he understood. “I knew she’d fall in love with him,” Dan said to Justin smiling
victoriously. We named him Kato.
By the time
we filled out the paperwork, purchased the necessary paraphernalia, and set it
up at home, it was late and we were all exhausted. We placed Kato into his
crate in the family room and went upstairs to bed.
Kato cried
all night. No one got any sleep. When we took him into the yard he lay down on
the grass looking miserable. When we touched him, he tried to bite us with his
sharp puppy teeth. He was uninterested in the toys we bought him preferring
instead to tear at the perennials we had planted, pulling until he had them out
by the roots, and then shaking them like mad. Whenever we put him back in the
crate, he cried. With the boys almost grown, life had begun to get easier. Now,
with this little monster living with us, we had no peace day or night. We were exhausted.
Weeks
passed. None of the training techniques in the books worked. When we tried to
teach him how to walk on a lead, he’d grab the leash in his mouth and play
tug-of-war. Even dousing the leash in hot sauce didn’t deter him. He chewed on
furniture and pulled up loops of carpeting. He bit us. I developed tightness in
my chest. Dan would have nightmares about a lion living in our home. We had
gone through major life changes, raised two children, faced the many challenges
of family life and had never been this stressed out.
Dan came
home one day and said, “I spoke to Jim at work. He already owns a lab. He said he’d
be willing to take Kato.” Dan thought I’d be relieved. I was shocked and angry.
We weren’t quitters.
“No way! We
are not failing at this. I’m going to
call a professional trainer. “
The first
trainer was a burly man with a gruff voice. “Oh, this is a tough guy. Alpha
male. Not gonna be easy.” His training technique consisted of placing Kato on a
leash and yanking it roughly to get Kato to obey commands. Kato looked
frightened. His eyes pleaded for help.
“Surely
there must be a gentler way to do this,” I said.
The trainer
sneered and said, “Well, you could try to hug and kiss him into it.” I couldn’t
get him out the door fast enough.
The second
trainer also identified Kato as an alpha male. She went over basic commands
with us and suggested rewarding good behavior with treats, but we had already
tried those techniques.
I was beside
myself. I didn’t want to fail and I loved Kato despite his bad behavior, but I
thought we might have to take Jim up on his offer. Then a friend told me about
a television show called The Dog
Whisperer starring Cesar Millan. His tagline is I rehabilitate dogs. I train people.
Dan and I
became disciples. We DVR’d the show and created Dog Whisperer marathons. For weeks, our kids saw only the backs of
our heads as we sat in an oversized chair together watching episode after
episode. What Cesar said made sense to us. We needed to understand how a dog
thinks. Cesar talked about the importance of rules, boundaries, and limitations
which sounded like good parenting. He also expressed the importance of giving
the dog three things in exactly this order: exercise, discipline, and
affection. According to Cesar, it all begins with the relationships we form
with our dogs during walks. We began to use Cesar’s techniques.
Kato’s
behavior improved rapidly. We were empowered by our new dog training skills. It
was a relief to know we could make this work after all. Within a few weeks, he
obeyed basic commands, walked well on the lead, and stopped biting. He still,
however, exhibited some alpha male quirks.
One
afternoon, I was in the yard with Kato when Dan came home. In typical alpha
male fashion, Kato stayed put and waited for Dan to come and greet him. Dan
didn’t even look at him. Kato was clearly put off by this. He looked at Dan and
raised his chin as if to say, “You must acknowledge me.” Dan stood perfectly
still and continued to ignore him. I watched in silence as Kato crawled slowly
toward Dan, his belly almost touching the ground. When he got there, he lay at
Dan’s feet, and put his head down.
“Congratulations”,
I said to Dan. “You are now the alpha male.”
©2013 Rita
Maniscalco All rights reserved.
