Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Guest in my house
I've had Nemo for seven months now (almost exactly), and he's everything I could have wanted. Loyal, sweet, affectionate, adorable, mellow. Except for the occasional running away episode (twice in the past week and a half) and lunging at joggers or cyclists on the sidewalk (more and more often). Oh yeah, and there was the dragging me across the grass to go after that boxer in the park on Sunday. Still have the skinned knees from that one.
Okay so I'm not an experienced dog owner, and all the Cesar Milan watching and reading in the world can't help me with this stuff. Or his maniacal response to horses. So I have enlisted the assistance of a professional.
Nicholas will come to my house once a week for the next six weeks to work with us. The first session was today. I was excited and a little nervous, because I knew that this would mean a major adjustment for me as well as Nemo. Being consistent is hard, although I guess ultimately it's not as hard as wondering if this time he's going to drag me across the grass after a strange dog.
I have many many new rules to follow, but the biggest one is to ignore. Ignore ignore ignore. I don't look at him, I don't pay attention to him (unless I'm in the mood to), I don't spend time correcting him. I claim the space and my time by letting him know I don't need him. This is a tough act for me.
When I come in the door, I have to ignore him for the first five minutes. This is to demonstrate that, as pack leader, I don't need him, I'm in control of things, and if I want something from him, I'll let him know. Otherwise he's expected to act as a guest in my house. There are certain places he's not allowed to go (bed, couch, under the table) and he has a place where's he's supposed to go unless I want him elsewhere. He's not allowed to go poking around in my fridge or my trash (just like a guest would be--not that he does that), he's not allowed to stand in my way (I have to go where I'm going and bump him out of the way if necessary), and he's not allowed to decide when we play and when we sit quietly. I decide that. He's eating my food, even once I put it in his bowl, and he doesn't start eating until I say.
This doesn't sound like a lot of fun, but it does make sense. I know it won't have to be this way forever; Nicholas says eventually, once he's acting like a good guest, I can invite him to move in and stay. For now that seems like a ways off. I've got a lot of posture to focus on. Head up, chest out. All the time.
Personal space: He's not allowed to touch me unless I initiate it. As Nicholas put it, unless it's a way you'd like your boss touching you, it's off limits. That makes a lot of sense. In the mean time Cecilia will be getting a lot of my baby talk and canoodling.
When I think of it, this is just how I have learned to set boundaries with other aspects of my life. With friends, boyfriends, bosses, clients. I don't talk to work people just because they call. I talk to them when it's a good time for me. I value my time and know I do better when I take care of boundaries and ask other people to respect them. I've ended relationships with friends who insisted on stopping over and staying when I said I couldn't, that I had a deadline. Setting limits with the 85-lb animal living in my tiny apartment makes more sense than anything. As much sense as adopting him in the first place.
Maybe it will serve as an outet for my less-than-pleasant dismissive behavior. I can be kinder and gentler to my loved ones and more cold and indifferent (when merited) to my dog, with whom it will actually improve our relationship. And I can stop feeling guilty about it. In fact, Nicholas will praise me for it.
We shall see.
Okay so I'm not an experienced dog owner, and all the Cesar Milan watching and reading in the world can't help me with this stuff. Or his maniacal response to horses. So I have enlisted the assistance of a professional.
Nicholas will come to my house once a week for the next six weeks to work with us. The first session was today. I was excited and a little nervous, because I knew that this would mean a major adjustment for me as well as Nemo. Being consistent is hard, although I guess ultimately it's not as hard as wondering if this time he's going to drag me across the grass after a strange dog.
I have many many new rules to follow, but the biggest one is to ignore. Ignore ignore ignore. I don't look at him, I don't pay attention to him (unless I'm in the mood to), I don't spend time correcting him. I claim the space and my time by letting him know I don't need him. This is a tough act for me.
When I come in the door, I have to ignore him for the first five minutes. This is to demonstrate that, as pack leader, I don't need him, I'm in control of things, and if I want something from him, I'll let him know. Otherwise he's expected to act as a guest in my house. There are certain places he's not allowed to go (bed, couch, under the table) and he has a place where's he's supposed to go unless I want him elsewhere. He's not allowed to go poking around in my fridge or my trash (just like a guest would be--not that he does that), he's not allowed to stand in my way (I have to go where I'm going and bump him out of the way if necessary), and he's not allowed to decide when we play and when we sit quietly. I decide that. He's eating my food, even once I put it in his bowl, and he doesn't start eating until I say.
This doesn't sound like a lot of fun, but it does make sense. I know it won't have to be this way forever; Nicholas says eventually, once he's acting like a good guest, I can invite him to move in and stay. For now that seems like a ways off. I've got a lot of posture to focus on. Head up, chest out. All the time.
Personal space: He's not allowed to touch me unless I initiate it. As Nicholas put it, unless it's a way you'd like your boss touching you, it's off limits. That makes a lot of sense. In the mean time Cecilia will be getting a lot of my baby talk and canoodling.
When I think of it, this is just how I have learned to set boundaries with other aspects of my life. With friends, boyfriends, bosses, clients. I don't talk to work people just because they call. I talk to them when it's a good time for me. I value my time and know I do better when I take care of boundaries and ask other people to respect them. I've ended relationships with friends who insisted on stopping over and staying when I said I couldn't, that I had a deadline. Setting limits with the 85-lb animal living in my tiny apartment makes more sense than anything. As much sense as adopting him in the first place.
Maybe it will serve as an outet for my less-than-pleasant dismissive behavior. I can be kinder and gentler to my loved ones and more cold and indifferent (when merited) to my dog, with whom it will actually improve our relationship. And I can stop feeling guilty about it. In fact, Nicholas will praise me for it.
We shall see.
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Oh honey, this is great. A well-written overview of what's in store for you both over the next several weeks. It's touching and realistic. And exciting.
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