Trust Is A Must If You Lust After Cooperation That’s Robust

In the off season, Gordie and I enjoy going for walks down a long service road that meanders through an expansive meadow bordered by a forest of mixed-age oaks. It’s a pleasant place to walk. Deer browse; red tails soar over head; foxes and coyotes slink off when we give them a hard look.

A technician uses this road for his job maintaining servers at an otherwise deserted TV tower at its dead end. Whenever I see him slowly rolling toward us, I whistle Gordie in and hup him at my feet. The little spaniel comes running in every time, sits before me, and studies my face with keen attention lest he miss the signal to release and resume his joyous romping. The first time that Roger saw this modest performance, he was immoderately impressed. He lowered the driver’s window, lavishly complimented Gordie’s behavior, and asked me facetiously if I’d train his neighbor’s %@$#&$% dog. Since that initial meeting, we’ve chewed the fat on many occasions; and every time he sees Gordie scoot in and park his butt, he shakes his head with a grin just like he did that first day.

I’m not a particularly good dog trainer. In Gordie, I had great luck in getting an especially cooperative pup. I also knew that he was a well-bred dog from a great kennel, and from a breed known for its biddability. And I’d gotten lots of help from reading and from talking with people whose dogs were well trained. One of the best pieces of training advice I received was this injunction: Never fool your dog.

When Gordie was a pup, he got lots of sweet talk and ear scritches when he obeyed the command “Here!” Now, when he comes in on command, even after he’s bumped and chased a bird to hell and gone, or rolled in dead raccoon, he still gets rewarded for compliance with his last command. Never fool your dog.

Whenever I put on my boots and grab the walking stick, Gordie wriggles with excitement over our impending walk. On a day when our route starts at the back gate, he knows he must sit there on command, not just until I open the gate, but until he’s released with the magic word. He always sits there like a turtle basking on a hot rock, because he knows that compliance always produces a fun run. Never fool your dog.

When Gordie was learning to fetch tossed dead pigeons, I never tricked him by either failing to toss a presented bird or tossing it into an impossibly difficult spot. Gordie always found his early marks, and got lots of love when he brought them to me. Now, there is no quit in him when I give the “Dead bird!” command. Good habits are forged if you never fool your dog.

My friends' simple injunction remains good advice. No foolin'.