Training day 4

6:22 AM

I fell asleep immediately last night--a very welcome change to how I typically fall asleep, tossing and turning for hours before my body falls asleep out of desperation more than anything else.

As I suspected, my darling prince Arden did not make a peep all night. I didn't hear a wine, him attempt to chew anything--hell, I didn't even hear him shift his position on the mat.

The inn stirred to life around 6:00, and that's when I could hear him perk up a bit. The girl in the next room began feeding her dog, and the Pavlov-esque sound of the kibble hitting the metal dog bowl caused my dog to (very daintily, despite his size) lick his lips. I woke up very sore and achy for some reason--my limbs and back seem to be a bit out of sorts (I'll really be needing that massage come Sunday), and I eased out of bed and went to check on my pale prince. He greeted me enthusiastically, wagging his tail, snorting gently, and I loved him even more. I spoke to a friend from the GDB lounge on the phone last night, and she reminded me that basically, the dogs don't really know the difference between us and, say, a volunteer or kennel tech at the moment. For all they know, they've spent the night at a volunteer's house and will be sent back to the kennel this morning. So of course it's natural that they will withhold the depths of their love or affection--some dogs are slutty and indiscriminately vomit their love all over the world, but I don't think Arden is such a dog. He seems very kind, very patient, and appropriately reserved with his love. don't' get me wrong--he has a very happy disposition; he just isn't acting as though everyone he encounters is his bestest friend in the whole wide world. I really like it that way. It's exactly what I asked for. There was something else I was going to write about that morning--it occurred to me as I was drifting off to sleep. Oh well, I'm sure I'll add it in when I remember. I'm going to get dressed now, and then feed, water, and relieve this prince of mine.

11:13 AM

I just got back a little while ago from our first "real" route. we were closely followed by our instructor, and rather than it be a crazy orientation and mobility test, it was just a chance to walk with the dog and begin to get to know its habits, pace, stuff like that. As I expected, Arden did incredibly well. he's an incredibly cautious worker; he does everything deliberately, and is definitely not one for sudden or abrupt movements. He gently and expertly guided me around cracks in the sidewalk, and stopped confidently at all curbs. He once brushed my shoulder against a pole, but we reworked it and he picked it up right away. The route we're working is one where our first stop is a coffee shop about a block away from the lounge. We then go in a huge loop--I admitted I wasn't actually paying a lot of attention to the streets we crossed, because my focus was on settling into a groove with my dog. We passed many dog distractions on the way (which wasn't actually intentional--it was just other trainers out working dogs), and my dog handled them really well. he really isn't the type of dog who needs all sorts of dramatic interventions. He was hesitating a bit as we walked, but I think that's more a product of anticipating a possible food reward, and just sussing me out as a handler. Fair enough! My arm tensed up more as we walked, but it started out being quite relaxed. We'll keep working on that. All in all, a really good first "real" walk. This afternoon, the weather's supposed to be really hot out (of course these Americans are talking about things like the high 80's or low 90's, and I'm like "is that, like, 31 Celsius?" Haha I love how only the Americans and noone else in the entire world use that system!) Anyway, we're just hanging out and waiting for our classmates to return from their routes. We've already had a dog switch in class today, but it seems as though it's for the better.

11:31 AM

I just spoke to a few of my classmates, and all their dogs hesitated a bit, too. It feels so good to know that I'm not the only one! I think they're all still hesitant because they're getting used to us. That, and they're beginning to learn that despite the fact that we're confident and competent, we're not actually dog trainers. This is a really good class to be a part of. sometimes, it's hard to admit that anything at all has gone wrong, or not the way you expected, because you want so desperately for things to be perfect right now immediately at once.

5:08 Pm

This afternoon, we did a repeat of the route from this morning. The weather turned out to be hot but not unbearable, so the dogs didn't actually need to wear their boots. The afternoon's walk was even smoother than this morning's. We definitely had more momentum, and he wasn't stopping shy of the curbs as much, which was awesome. He's a confident dog who's also cautious, which I think is actually a bit rare. And my doggie had his first ever time out! I feel as though it was my first time really "getting him in trouble", but it did happen. We were walking along the sidewalk, when his pace picked right up. Ears perked up, and you have all the makings of a perfect dog distraction. I stopped, waited a second, and then urged my dog forward. He instantly went to greet the other dog (who was barking up a storm, much to the amusement of its owner, might I add). You'd think I would get the timing perfectly--that I'd drop the handle, grab the leash close to the collar, and stand perfectly still. But what did I do? So many years of working with a full choke chain and more firm handling led me to give him a firm leash correction and say "Arden! no!" I think everyone was surprised. Our class supervisor magically materialized in the way that only dog trainers do, and suggested I do the time out. So I did. My dog took a few seconds to really refocus (I could tell because his yellow head was cranked to the left). He did settle down, however, and we continued on our way. After we had some momentum going again, I stopped and gave him a treat. So I feel as though he and I have been initiated now!

Oh, before our route, I did some work with "wheeler" again out back, because I'm still not so great at all the foot and body work involved with turns. They just seem so complicated! I knew I was screwing up though because, like, I'd be told to turn left, so I'd turn left, knock my knees into his side, causing both of us to stumble, all while flailing an arm in the general left direction and saying "left". Needless to say, that wasn't very effective. we basically ended up either not turning at all, or turning in a complete circle. In order not to confuse the dog even more than I already had, we put him in a crate for a few minutes while I mastered my technique on wheeler. Ok, mastered is really overstating it, because I'm still pretty sure I suck at it. I've just never had to think about like, five different steps when I'm turning, ya know? ah well, all in due time, right?

After some of us had come back from our routes this afternoon, we were just hanging out in the lounge. The person in class who had a dog switch invited the only other person with a black dog to come feel his dog, so she goes over to pet him. Suddenly one of the instructors walks in and is like, "guys, check your dogs." We all instantly started groping our dogs to look for cancerous irregularities or bleeding ulcers or what have you.

"No really! check your dogs!"

It took us a while to realize she was talking to the two black dog handlers. (And by that I mean, the two handlers who had black dogs!haha)

"I have my dog!" the girl said.

"And I have mine!" the other confirmed.

"Are you sure?" the instructor asked.

"Yes!" they both screamed emphatically.

"Ok, because you both have the wrong dog! now, one way to check if your dog is yours, especially if the other one is a girl, is to just, you know, go ahead and reach down between their back legs..."

The rest of her sentence was drowned out by laughter, and much immaturity followed. I came up with another rhyme to add to our repertoire, which is:

If you think you might be wrong, check for the shlong!

We had a ton of fun this afternoon, that's for sure.

I'm still having my arm issue. Telling myself not to tense my arm doesn't seem to be doing the trick (though I've never quite mastered self-talk, otherwise I wouldn't be this fucked up LOL). After we got back, they switched my handle to the ergonomic one, which is slightly off-set so as to reduce the amount of strain placed on the wrist and arm (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong). From what I gather, people either love it or hate it. Can those of you who have tried it confirm that it makes it feel as though the dog is either walking or looking left when he isn't? I haven't formally walked using it yet, so I'm not sure, but I just got that impression.

Anyway, off for dinner!!

7:50 Pm

I just got back from a tribute session. It was basically an opportunity for those of us who are retrains to talk about our passed dogs--and the myriad of feelings associated with retiring them, whether it be for health or any other reasons. The guilt, the questioning of whether or not you made the right decision; the feeling that you are a bad handler (particularly if you retired your dog for reasons other than those that are health-related). I did not expect to go in and break down, but that's exactly what happened. As soon as I walked in, I knew it was a mournful atmosphere. You know, I actually wasn't going to go to it. What's the point, I thought. I thought it would just be yet another occasion where people all go around telling stories that are only meaningful to them while we sat around and listened respectfully, wondering when we'd get to speak and hoping we'd remain stoic. But what I failed to realize is the common thread that wove all the disparate stories together--the grief, guilt, and outright tragedy of having to retire a guide. I am extremely uncomfortable with displaying my grief publicly, so I'm still sort of reeling from the fact that I basically wept my heart out to a group of virtual strangers. despite how much I tell myself that that was ok, I've still not really "forgiven" myself for crying like that. Chock it up to being raised to hide your emotions, I guess. I don't know. Crying is such, such a giving experience. I know it doesn't come across as such immediately, but think about it: you are letting complete strangers witness your most private possession: your tears. And you give of them, and let people see you emotionally undressed. and it just somehow doesn't feel worth it. They are often restrained (either personally or for social or cultural reasons) so can't swoop down on you and give you a hug (and fair enough-they don't know whether or not it would be welcomed), but what do you get once you've whored out your feelings? it's like selling your body, or any product really, and not being paid. Anyway, I think way, way too many fucking deep thoughts and I just need to shut up haha.

In other news, Arden basically spent the lecture sighing dramatically and wondering what all the fuss was about. He did everyone a favour and snapped at flies, which was very comical to watch. He's not one of those dogs who has his feelings on display readily, so it'll be interesting to get to know him, all be it slowly. I'm still not convinced he's particularly taken with me, but it's only been a day since I've had him, so I need to adjust my expectations accordingly. I am still continuously amazed at him-at his calmness, his easiness to be handled, and of course, his gorgeous colour. I could not have asked for more in a dog.

I'm extremely tired and still very irritated with myself, so after the 8:30 relieve, I think I'm going to head to bed.