As my regular readers will know, our puppy Paddy has reached the stroppy teenager stage and 'can't be bovvered' obeying commands, or even polite requests, unless he feels like it. So, we decided to take him to obedience training classes, and his first one took place on Wednesday. I asked Tony to come along with me, but he said 'No fear - he's your dog, I'm not going to be there when he gets thrown out of the class.'
So, with that vote of confidence ringing in our ears, Paddy and I set off to San Miguel for the class. It started really well. he was in the back of the car with a seatbelt restraint on his collar, and he was such a good boy, sitting there, looking through the front windscreen, master of all he surveyed. Things went rapidly downhill from there though.
When he met the other dozen dogs in the class, he went a bit ballistic and wanted to play. He jumped on top of a tiny Chihuahua, and we almost needed a dustpan and brush to get him off the tarmac. when 30 kilos of Collie/lLabrador cross meets 3 kilos of Chihuahua, there's only ever going to be one outcome. Luckily the owner was fine about it, and said 'Don't worry, I'm sure he won't be permanently flattened.'
Paddy's fate was sealed though. He wasn't actually tossed out of the class before he even started but both he - and I - were consigned to the Naughty Corner. My chair was placed at a safe distance from all the other owners - or more accurately, their dogs. Paddy found it pretty unbearable when all the dogs went into the training ring, but I had no sympathy, and told him he only had himself to blame. I can be a hard-faced Puppy Mummy when the need arises - and it arises quite a lot with Paddy just lately, so I'm getting plenty of practice in.
At half time, when the other dogs had a well earned break, Alex, the trainer, came across to Paddy. I started to apologise profusely, but he just shook his head, told me not to worry and took Paddy into the training ring for a one to one assessment. As usual, Paddy took off like he was chasing a cat who had just stolen his dinner, but with a couple of words - which I didn't hear - and a hand signal, there was Paddy, standing still and waiting for the word to move. I watched in amazement as my bouncy boy did exactly as he was signalled and commanded to do, and I was torn between wanting to kiss Alex for taming the seemingly untameable and kill Paddy for being so good for a stranger when he was such a naughty boy for his Mummy.
When Alex brought him back to me, he said he was a very intelligent dog and he would be easy to train. He went further. 'If this was my dog, he would be trained in five minutes.' Oh, dear readers, so strong was the temptation to reply 'Here, Alex, you got yourself a dog.' The only thing that stopped me was thinking how pleased Tony would be if I went home sans Paddy.
Unfortunately, he still wasn't allowed in with the other dogs, because Alex decreed that until I had a choker collar for him, he wouldn't be comfortable, as the dog, as he is behaving at the moment, is too strong for me. So I was told to come back next week, complete with choker collar to begin Educating Paddy. Alex also said he didn't think I'd have so much trouble with him from now on. Seeing my look of sheer disbelief, he took Paddy into the circle of dogs and owners, sat down with him in the middle, and confidently told the others he was about to demonstrate how to calm down an excitable dog.
So, there's my manic puppy, at close quarters with around a dozen strange dogs, and he's sitting there like he's just toked on a ton of marijuana. Either that or his puppy body has been overtaken by a species of particularly chilled out aliens. Luckily I had the camera, because I knew Tony would never believe it without evidence. Hell, I didn't believe it myself, and I was witness to it!
That's not where the story ends though. Since Wednesday, Paddy hasn't taken me for a walk, we've managed to do it the other way around for the first time since he was 5 kilos of timid, tiny puppy. And his kangaroo legs seem to have deserted him, because he's hardly jumped up at all. When he's not having his regular play times, he sits there, calm and serene with me on the terrace as I work. Alex is obviously some kind of miracle worker, or at least some sort of dog whisperer. The friends who recommended him said he was a magician with dogs, and I think they could well be right.
Now, if only I can get Alex to stop Paddy greeting me every morning by shoving his nose right up my kaftan, we could be onto a winner. Wonder if I can explain that problem without dying from embarrassment? Maybe I can look it up online to save my blushes!