Apologies to both William Shakespeare and Hamlet for hijacking literature's greatest soliliquy, but I need to lighten the mood in Piddock Place. It's Week 5 of Operation Educating Paddy, and Alex thinks he is progressing really well with his training. I think secretly he's one of Alex's favourites, and he certainly loves Alex, so he looks forward to Wednesday evenings. So do I - or at least I did until Wednesday.
A bit of background information may be useful here, so you can understand the true awfulness of Wednesday. When Paddy came to us, he was a timid, tiny 7 - 9 week old puppy. As he was abandoned to die by the canal at La Marina, we don't know his exact age. However, even then he was a clever little boy. Within two days, he had pretty much house trained himself, and would ask to go whoopsies and wee wees. And by the time we'd had him a week, he would sit to order, with or without the bribery of his favourite treats. Sometimes, there's no need to even say the word. When he sees me pick up his bowl at supper time, his backside is welded to the floor in anticipation. So for the last 7 months, Paddy has earned a degree with distinction in the art of sitting.
When Alex announced that we were going to sit and stay - or rather our dogs were - I was quietly confident that we'd get half of it right, although I couldn't imagine Paddy staying when Mummy walked away from him. With a light heart, I took my place in the circle of 17 dogs and owners and prepared to take my bow as Paddy amazed everyone with his ability to sit. Oh foolish woman - so shortly to be reminded that pride goeth before a mighty fall!
Alex explained what was going to happen. 'You will sit down your dog, then you will walk away. If he tries to follow, you will say 'No, stay.' Easy enough really - at least for 16 dogs. Paddy's 'Sit' function seemed to have been temporarily disabled. On the first command to 'Sit,' he must have misheard me, because I found it necessary to avail myself of one of those little black plastic bags all dog owners carry everywhere. So I made sure the next 'Sit' was crisp and clear, to avoid another misunderstanding.
Now he was obviously suffering from temporary deafness, because he ignored the command, and the next 10 increasingly exasperated 'Sit's. Taking the situation in at a glance, Alex headed our way. 'You're in trouble now matey,' I said. 'Alex is going to tell you off good and proper.' But Alex did not - it was me who got the lecture. 'Sandra, you are too soft with your dog. He has to do as you say, and you have to make him. It's got to be you or the dog, and it cannot be the dog.' Too right it couldn't - when you have well over 30 kilos of puppy, you can't allow him to be the boss. Alex advised me to push his rump down firmly as I said 'Sit,' just to remind him what to do.
After what seemed like 127 failed attempts to push down the rump while saying 'Sit,' both Paddy and I were very hot and bothered. Alex took pity on me - or more likely Paddy - and suggested we join the other dogs and owners who - having sat and stayed - were now enjoying a nice walk around the campo. This was also part of the training, as the dogs were walking sedately by the sides of their owners. Sensing Paddy's mood, Alex suggested I just let him walk as he wanted until we'd both calmed down.
Naturally, because Paddy had the official sanction to do as he wanted, he did as he was supposed to do, and trotted happily by my side. When we reached the bridge over the canal, I was sorely tempted to give Paddy his first, impromptu diving lesson. Alex must have clocked the murderous glint in my eye, because he hastily announced that we were going to swap dogs and get them to walk to heel too. He said it was because we would all be more relaxed with someone else's dog, but he didn't fool me for a moment. He knew if he didn't get Paddy well away from Mummy pretty damn quick there would be a vacancy in next Wednesday's class.
Paddy compounded his earlier felonies by not even trying to pull over the well built Spaniard who had the misfortune to get him on the walk back to the training ring. Meanwhile, I enjoyed the unfamiliar feeling of having a good dog at my side for once. The beautiful honey coloured Spaniel was so well behaved and affectionate, I tried my hardest to get the owner to do a pup swap, but understandably, he was having none of it.
You'd have thought my dog had caused me enough shame and embarrassment for one evening, but he had one last stunt to pull. Alex said the words that always accompany the end of an exercise. 'Sit down the dog by your side.' My little Spaniel sat at once, and I looked across to enjoy the spectacle of the hunky Spaniard coaxing my recalcitrant pup to sit down. And my shame was complete. He said 'Sientate,' just loud enough for me to hear, and Paddy promptly plonked his backside firmly in the sand of the training ring. For God's sake, he won't obey his Mummy in English, but a Spanish guy tells him Sientate and he can't get down quick enough!
Anybody want a dog? House trained, and will sit to order. Because for the last two days he's been doing exactly that!