Managing Expectations

As my husband and I continue our adventures of owning a dog, we learn more and more about dogs, but perhaps even more about ourselves. We adopted Sophie, a Catahoula Leopard dog as a puppy last July. We watched Caesar Milan the Dog Whisperer working with uptight people, getting them to loosen up and miraculously their dogs would become better controlled. We watched and we thought we understood. It was about them, the people, more than it was about the dog.

Then, why was it that our puppy would lurch and jerk, bounce and pounce and generally misbehave whenever any sort of distraction came upon our path? It was perplexing. We explained it to ourselves that she was just a puppy or perhaps just high strung. It was just a phase.

I had good friends come to visit for a weekend in March. One friend has also recently acquired a dog. Her dog sniffs and wanders on the leash zig zagging all about, forward, backwards and sideways. Abby, the dog, has no awareness that the person holding the leash has any sort of expectations of her. Having a stroke of good weather in Minnesota that week in March, I took my two good friends for a walk with Sophie. During the walk at times I found myself frustrated that Sophie was ahead of me. I would tug her leash, hold it tighter. Then, she would be too far behind me, sniffing grass like a blood hound. She bounced and pulled to go visit strangers walking and lurched at the neighbor's yard when we passed their yard, because sometimes we would let her play with their dog.

When we were back in the house, my friend said to me. "Man, I wish my dog Abby would walk so well on a leash."

I had been getting increasingly angry with Sophie over the behavior from her that I wasn't getting. She was learning when and in what circumstances I didn't trust her and how certain behavior would evoke a strong reaction from me, positive or negative, it didn't really matter. She was getting something from me during those moments of frustration and anger, whether I realized it or not.

When my husband and I went for a walk some days later with Sophie, I loosened up on the leash. I let Sophie roam ahead, sniff the grass, letting the leash out to the full six feet. When she returned back to my side, I collected the leash in my hand, praised her, and gave her a nice treat. When she ventured off again, I let the leash out a bit again. If she wandered too far or stopped, I would give a tug and say "Uh uh." When she returned to my side, especially the left "heel" side, I would give her big praise and, of course, a treat.

Tonight, we passed bunny rabbits sitting on the lawn, squirrels running up trees and even robins hopping along in the grass looking for worms. The leash was loose. Sophie might bounce once or even twice, but she continued the walk. She returned back to my side and I praised her and gave her a treat. She looked up at me and I swear I could see her smile.

How this actually makes any sense or why it works still puzzles me. But, sometimes it's best not to question these things. You just have to go with it.

This is the reason that Caesar Milan continues to have clients. They watch the same show, they see it and hear it over and over, but they don't think any of it applies to them.

My husband and I have an angel and a sweetheart of a dog. Going for walks with her is a joy. Rather than having trained Sophie, we have managed to train ourselves. I can't help but think this philosophy could be applied to other areas of my life. Yet, training myself to expect better things seems to be harder than it seems. Perhaps even the expectation that this itself is difficult is yet another expectation I must learn to manage.