I want to tell you about the best dog trainer I ever met.
Really; I’m not kidding; I met the best dog trainer recently. He is about a foot tall, multi-colored, 18 pounds and almost two feet long.
Through a serious of fortunate and unfortunate events, general doses of happenstance, and a liberal dose of impatience, we welcomed a Great Dane puppy into our house.
While Great Dane and puppy seems somewhat oxymoronic, it is nonetheless accurate.
Lollipop is a thirty pound, 14-week old girl with a loping gait, tiny teeth, flopsy-mopsy ears, and a adult-size bladder and bowel. That’s right bowel, not bowl.
And that is key to the story.
What you probably know intellectually, but not emotionally, is 30 pound Great Dane puppies with gigantic bladders and bowels (again, not bowls) are not housetrained.
And they don’t understand the concept of doggy door either (you see we have one – a doggy door I mean; I already established the Great Dane thing).
What I also have is a secret weapon.
In a previous post I mentioned we had gotten a double-dappled Dachshund named Dexter.
To avoid excessive alliteration we changed his name to Spike.
An homage of sorts to Looney Tunes.
Regardless, I get distracted.
Anyway a Great Dane puppy doesn’t poop or pee in little tiny parcels and puddles, like say a Yorkie or Pomeranian. Oh no! These are full blown adult sized explosions that usually come when you are wearing your favorite Nordstrom suit and trying to get out the door to work; non-stop fecal and urinal exclamation points to reinforce that although the puppy is 30 pounds and two feet high, she still is – curiosity wrinkles not withstanding – a puppy with no control.
As I waded through the viscera one day, my wife and I met at the backdoor/doggy door.
My bride was trying in vain to push the 30 pound hell-hound through the doggy door, but Lollipop was applying the brakes for all she was worth.
The double-dapple Dachshund looked on and I swear he was shaking his head in disgust. If he had one of those cartoon clouds over his head it would have said, “Stupid humans.”
Well, Spike waddled over, the way Dachshund’s do, put himself between the doggy door and poop machine and proceeded to demonstrate how to go in and out.
He did this a few times, stopped, looked at us, and then looked at the Great Dane puppy, and jumped the doggie door again. This time he was followed by the 30 pound Poopzilla.
I’m not kidding.
He and Poopasaurus Rex went in and out until Lollipop was comfortable doing it all on her own.
Needless to say this cut way down on-in house puppy accidents.
Even so, I suspect Spike had a hidden agenda.
Now that Lollipoop can go outside, he lures her into a huge game of chase every time and together they run back and forth as fast as their giant and stubby legs can move.
Peace reigns in the Kingdom, but back yard is a mud pond; Spring is a long way off.