Sunday Morning.
08:15 hours.
A little cloudy, a little sunny.
A little rested.
A little sleepy.
A little refreshed.
A little exhausted.
A little of everything, mounts up to something.
What that something is, I have no idea.
Just something.
After throwing up the furball stuck in my throat, I felt relieved and perhaps clearer. I took the day easy, took Flapper to go snoop at a basic obedience class conducted by my favourite trainer and go look at my rascal 3 month old 'god-daughter' shine in class. But that little one never made it for class as 'mummy and daddy' were too busy at work. And as Flapper went into the class, the other puppy-parents were squealing and gasping over how big he is, worried that he would 'eat up' or attack their puny puppies....
I have never sat in on an obedience class before. Training Flapper was all self-taught and boy oh boy did I experiment A LOT on this boy, testing out different methods before settling on positive reinforcement. I do have tinges of regret for some of the negative reinforcement used on Flapper but I believe this is part and parcel of learning to be a better handler. There's no point looking back, just keep going forward.
Anyhow, it was fun sitting through a training class and being given the opportunity to observe the dogs AND THE OWNERS. I've never had the privilege of having a dog from puppy stage. Puppy being at 2-3 months of age. Flapper, at 8 months, was the youngest dog I've owned. And so there I was, at a corner with Flapper and there was a 3 month old GR puppy happily bouncing around wanting to play with a 5 month old Toy Poodle. Toy poodle, whatever its name is, is under-socialised and its owners do not take it out. So it was amazing to watch how at 5 months old, this under-socialised puppy was already fear-laden and was running to the humans to seek rescue when lil Caramel (the GR puppy) wanted to play. And in typical SG fashion, the owners were screaming, "friend friend!". Goner. Seen that too many times. This is the typical movement of unsocialised dogs' owners who think that by screaming 'friend friend', the dog will bloody hell understand it and become a dog-social-butterfly instantly. ROTFLMAO.
So that was fun. Of course, it was more fun for Flapper as I kept stuffing his face silly.... counter-conditioning him without him realising it. There was a point and purpose of me being there with Flapper.... and seeing my little god-daughter in training was just part of the reason.
Evening - pizza and beer party at a friends' place urned out chaotic, thanks to some squeaky kids who so cannot handle their dog (the hosts' neighbour). Not their fault actually. If anyone's to take the responsibility, their highly-annoying dad who is loud, obnoxious and pretty much an ass. When questioned if he was continuing his training with the dog, he loudly declared that he does not see why he needs to continue with training class. THIS, my dear friends, is one of the biggest misconception of all time on WHY OWNERS DO NOT THINK OBEDIENCE TRAINING IS NECESSARY, "What do I need to teach my dog? I don't want my dog to do clown tricks or be a performer."
And ladies and gentlemen.... we are talking about a 9 months old Golden Retriever who DOES NOT KNOW HIS NAME, climbs on chair to try to grab food off the table, jumps on humans big time and has kids holding him back from going berserk like they're ready to strangle him, completely misinterpreting the dog play to "the other dog is attacking my dog" and telling the dog "don't be scared". And where's the father in this scenario? Upstairs debating with the host over insurance. Nice.
To add on, GR pooped on the hosts' $2,000 carpet. Even nicer.
So thank God for available bread on the table, between GR going berserk, host's dog barking its heads off at the GR, another dog barking in obsession over its ball, GR trampling all over Flapper and the kids going into squeaky frenzy not knowing how to control their dog.... bread came to the rescue and I had to take silent control of the crazy situation. It is not tough. The GR is good really. Just lousy owner (singular. The blame still goes back to the father).
By that point, my fangs were showing. I got so annoyed that when kid tried to feed Flapper, I just told her,"go feed Breeze". My ultimate bitchy snap, "Who taught you to handle your dog that way?"
If one was watching close enough, I think my snarls and growls were visible.
I knew then I did not have mummy-material in me AT ALL. I kept telling myself, "they are just kids" but woah.... squeaky twins in the midst of doggy-chaos.... a bit too much for me to manage. And when I tried to visualise growing up to becoming a mold of their obnoxious dad, too scary a thought to fathom.
This is the father who decided he wanted to give up the GR after one day of purchase. Go figure.
It was world peace after they left and we happily went up to the patio to have some brownies and more beer.
No squeaky kids.
No obnoxious father.
Life is back to normal.
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