Into the Good Dog Circle

[A photo taken quickly, while Bingo was being good.]

By Fred
Some stories are better told in reverse, like this one, with Bingo finally being a good boy and sitting in the good dog circle of the training class Wednesday night at the Lions Club on Treasure Island. "He made it into the circle!" Cheryl said with such pride on the way home, as if the story begins and ends with that moment. It does not.

We had high hopes for our new plan--to expose him to his distractions, and to keep him at a distance from the other dogs in the class, allowing him to stay calm, and then gradually come him in closer as a reward for being good. But the night started off with a chance meeting in the parking lot. Bingo's brother Jim arrived at the same time, and Bingo was transformed, like one of those cartoon animals who turns into a bottle rocket and shoots straight into the air. Once in outer space, it takes a while for him to float back down.

[A photo of a good dog and raiser on the left and
me and Bingo in exile on the beach,
his eyes shining in the dark]

I took Bingo immediately away from the other dogs--only there was nowhere to go except off the porch and onto the beach. At first I imagined that we could stand out there in the quiet, contemplate the stars and the big emptiness of the gulf behind us, have a nice quiet moment before we inched our way back to the porch. But no. He jumped and laughed and dived, coming up one time with a big mouthful of sand, and laughed some more, twisting and rolling. As it turns out, sand is a another huge distraction for him. Discouraging...

Then it was Cheryl's turn. Everyone practiced going into the front door and using the Switch command (moving the leash from the left to the right hand). Bingo darted and pulled, chasing after every bug, still jazzed up in hyper mode. At this point I'm getting pretty discouraged. But Cheryl was patient and good with him. By the end of class he calmed down, just in time for the good dog circle. The nice thing about doing this with Cheryl: when one of us is discouraged, the other can encourage.

Cheryl and I always pick up something helpful from the training classes, like interrupting a walk with Sit commands as a way to calm him down. (Who knew there would be so much to learn?) Yesterday Bingo and I walked through the neighborhood and it was beautiful: we'd walk a few steps, sit, a few more steps, sit, more steps, etc. and he seemed like he really enjoyed doing it.

Bingo has many good points: he's smart, fearless, tireless and sweet. And he is very obedient when not distracted. With time and maturity and more work on his distractions (and hopefully better guidance from us), he will make it.

Avert Your Eyes!

Today Bingo made it into the the realm of the gods. As we walked down the lower division hallway on the way to the restroom, there were three 5th graders in the hallway by the bathroom door reading: two girls on the left, one boy on the right. When the two little girls caught sight of Bingo's magnificence, one of them yelled out, simultaneously throwing her thin arm up and over her eyes, "Don't look at him!" Her friend immediately did the same thing. They remained, eyes covered, as Bingo and I walked into the bathroom.

On the way out, we had to pass the little boy who was exactly at the same height as Bingo. He was sitting right by the bathroom door. As I stepped over the threshold with Bingo on my left, Bingo looked over and caught sight of the little boy and his shiny pink ear. And...yes...he stuck his tongue in it.

I stopped and looked down at him. "I am so sorry."

The little boy looked up at me and in a very serious voice said, "I'm ok."

He didn't avert he eyes.

Moaning Myrtle, I mean, Bingo

After the episode at the play, I took Bingo with me to classes. That Monday I had four classes. I started each class by telling the students what had happened at the play and that if Bingo made noise during class I was going to give him a correction. It wasn't because I was trying to be mean to him, but if he didn't stop being a crybaby, then the blind person who got him wouldn't ever be able to go to a movie or play.

They all seemed to get it. Bingo had three corrections in the first period. None in second and third periods. Then came fourth period, with the freshman health class that is made up of 18 boys, two girls and most of the boys have very limited attention spans. Having Bingo in class is quite a distraction to them. So even though they heard the reason, I'm not sure that in their freshmen boy minds they actually HEARD me. So when he made a moan/whine and I said, "No noise" and gave a correction, I got this startled, shocked and horrified look from two freshmen boys.

This is where "I'm not the strongest pack leader" trait comes out. I realized that they had not heard one thing I said, but I also realized that they were so completely unfocused that it was no use trying to explain it again. So, I opted to remove the distraction: Bingo. I keep a kennel in my office in the library and also our library assistant Jan occasionally keeps him, out of coat, in her office. I gave Bingo to Jan. Better to work with an older class who understands the purpose of the correction where I can be consistent with it, than try to work the correction and be inconsistent was my thought. Hopefully it was the right decision.

Bingo and the Bowling Alley

You heard it right! Bingo went bowling. Eliot was having his 34th birthday and his wife threw him a party at the local bowling alley. I had the bright idea to bring Bingo. I did ask beforehand (Fred said, No, this is not a good idea. Eliot said, Why not?) I went with the birthday boy's answer. I mean, he is the birthday boy, right? Why deny him?

Uh, bowling, with a dog who goes from 0 to 100 on the excitement scale to a PARTY. Bowling, where all they do is throw big BALLS around. What was I thinking?

Bingo was great on the walk in. The only problem was that none of Eliot's friends were familiar with service animals and they all fell in love and wanted to pet Bingo. So I felt like the party pariah by saying, "No, I'm sorry. You can't pet him. He's working." They were super nice about it, but still, Cheryl = party fun killer. Plus, you can't bowl when you have a guide dog. I wasn't thinking about that. Although, technically, he is on the LEFT side, and I bowl on my right side, so I could bowl with him. I think the bowling people might have objected to that though.

The other thing that happens at birthday parties that I had completely forgotten about was effusive greetings, back slapping, huge hugs and high fives. Each one was watched eagerly by Bingo and in his tiny labrador mind they all heralded mammoth, spectacular ecstasy just moments away. He vibrated.

I sat at the table and had Bingo lay down. What struck me immediately was this bowling alley had the cleanest floors in the nation. I swear that you literally could eat off this floor. There was not one crumb on it. I know this because Bingo looked and was unable to find one. NOT ONE. I think that is what saved the evening. He was so disheartened by the fact the there were no crumbs and that I was sitting and no super ecstatic revelatory experience was in the offing for him that he just gave up and lay down. He was a good boy, a really good boy for two hours.

[ A photo of CD, Tracy and Chad at a table with Bingo on the floor in a down stay. Notice he is not snuffling around for food crumbs! Bingo did really like Chad's feet and whenever Chad was at the table with us, he would try to lick Chad's toes. Tracy said it was because Chad had unusally smelly feet. I told Chad it was because Bingo loved him.]

He even got to experience Galactic Bowling where the lights go out, loud disco music comes on and strobe lights, multicolored lights start to wink on and off. It makes for quite an experience. Bingo, the disco doggie.

We did have one close call though. Fred finally came over to let me bowl a couple of times and he took off his shoes. He wasn't paying attention and one of the bowling managers came over and gave Fred a stern look and pointed down at Bingo.

"He's chewing on the shoes!"

Fred said, "Oh." And then reached over to take the massively abused shoe (abused by other bowlers, not by Bingo) out of Bingo's mouth. "Right." We decided that I should walk out with Bingo first and Fred should return the shoes. There were no visible teeth marks. 8-)

Let Me Play, Coach

By Fred
OK. In junior high I practiced hard, but I wasn't the best basketball player. Like my other unfortunate and nerdy friends, I sat on the bench most of the game, hoping to play in those last few seconds when I couldn't possibly make things any worse. I remember thinking Come on, coach, just let me play.

Last night at training class Bingo and I sat the bench while the good players got to show off. Or rather we stood at the far, dark perimeter of a grassy field and watched as the good dogs worked out, like basketball players on the court, in a circle of light at the center. Cheryl has a cold, so Bingo and I were on our own.

We did some doggy push ups (sit, down, stay, stand) and when Bingo did well, we took a few steps toward the circle. Failure to do well, and we took a few steps back. Of course, he already is pretty good at sit and down and stay (he has a down that would make you cry). Failure, for him, is losing his patience and attempting to run wild into the circle and doing who-knows-what. (He also was distracted by the smells that radiate from a field of grass just outside a vet's office, but that's another issue.)

Toward the end of the class, the message is getting through to him. To get closer, he must be a good boy. We get a little closer. Finally, with a few seconds left in the game, Jennifer (our SEGD coach and trainer) asks if Bingo is ready to play. We walk slowly into the circle, calmly, and after a few steps he makes a single lunge at one of the dogs. NO, I say, and we sit for a few seconds, then walk forward again, calmly again. He sits. Good boy. Calm. And we turn around to leave the circle. Good dog. For him, really good dog.

Thanks to Jennifer, this seems to be the perfect strategy for Bingo. Be good or sit the bench.

[ A photo of Bingo from a walk earlier this week, looking up and with his tongue hanging out. ]

Fuzzy Distractions

By Fred
Today was a free day for Bingo (no school) so I took him for a long walk. Along the way we met up with a little old lady and her fuzzy little dog (I'm guessing it was a dog), one of those feather dusters on a leash with a bad attitude and loud yapping bark. As we approached them on the sidewalk, I tried to transmit a sense of calm down the leash to Bingo, who, I'm sure, was thoroughly confused by these two odd approaching creatures. The woman had one of those really long leads, and her little beast was running in big circles. No way I can control what might happen here...

I saw a brief glimpse of a possible future, with Bingo swallowing her dog in one bite, standing there with a pink leash coming out from his mouth.

Left, left, I said to Bingo at the next walkway, and we crossed the street. He did look back once or twice but didn't lunge, so I gave him a good boy.

Later we walked along a busy street a few blocks away. The SEGD manual recommends doing this just to get the puppies used to noise and traffic. This isn't a very good video, but it gives you the general idea--that he's not a afraid of anything. And lately he's doing a better job of keeping his head up and being aware of things.

Epic Fail at The Dining Room

It was bound to happen. An epic fail. Sooner or later. It had to happen.

Saturday night we went to see the school play The Dining Room. The night had hints that it wouldn't go well when we were driving over the bridge and Fred asked when the play started.

"Oh, 7 or 7:30. Look it up on the website." I said. He had gotten a new iPhone for Christmas and likes to look things up, plus our school has a new website that has a cell phone app.

"Is the play Our Town?"

"No, that was last semester." Uh oh. Flying blind on time. So we assume 7 pm and eat a hurried dinner at Mitchell's. Of course when we get to school, we discover it starts at 7:30 and we have 45 minutes to wait. So, we walk Bingo up and down stairs to tire him out. Good plan we thought. It didn't work.

We waited until about 7:20 to go to our seats. Then we sat in the back, on the aisle. We know the drill. Bingo was very good. He was lying down, calm and quiet. Then the lights went out and the show started.

Whine. Rustle. Rustle.

Whine. Whispered NO. Heads turn. Mind you there are five empty rows between us the next row with people in front of us, but still, parents. You seriously don't want to annoy parents watching their children.

Whine. Fred looks at me. The husband of the play director on the opposite side of the aisle looks at me. I tell Fred we need to leave. Time: 7:50. I make two major mistakes: I bend down to get my purse and I don't tell Fred that there is a curtain covering the doors leading out of the theater to mask the light bleeding in from late people.

When I bend down, Fred thinks I have a hold of Bingo's collar. I am getting my purse. Fred turns and I think he has Bingo, He doesn't. Bingo senses movement and BOLTS. He races up the aisle and shoots under the curtain and disappears. Unfortunately for the two girls who are the ushers and are standing between the curtain and the door to help people navigate between the curtain and the door, Bingo surprises them. They aren't expecting a 70-pound black lab to come rushing the exit, startling them so they SQUEAK! Not good.

Fred is standing in the aisle and all he sees is Bingo disappear! He rushes forward and runs smack into the curtain, and flails around trying to find the slit (mind you there isn't one, you have to go around, but he doesn't know that), so finally he follows the leash and goes under. There are the two ushers with Bingo, the door opens, Fred and Bingo go through, I follow. It seems like light bleeds through, but I'm really tense about the bolting, the flailing and the squeaking.

It all seemed like a lifetime. However, the good news is that my friend's son was an usher that night and he didn't even know we were there or that anything had happened. So I guess the incident wasn't as big as we thought. Still, Bingo won't be going to the musical in March! I'll stick with the anonymous crowds in movie theaters.