When Pigs Fly_ Training Success With Impossible Dogs - Jane Killion [85]
The first time you locked eyes with a terrier, he stood up on his toes, wagged his tail, and you heard him say, “Howyadoin’! Let’s play!” You loved that. You saw his little antics as hysterical. When he grabbed that ring toy and hung from it as his handler suspended him from the ground, you were in stitches. When he dashed around the yard, back arched, wheeling from side to side as he body-slammed into the fence, you thought he was a riot. His ever present party spirit and no-holds-barred living—that deep appreciation and joy that he can get out of every blade of grass, every patch of dirt, and every person he meets—made him your soul-mate. Now that you own him, you just wish that his ever present party spirit did not include wrecking the entire house, and that his no-holds-barred living stopped short of scrapping with every dog he meets.
My goodness, the first time you laid eyes on your Pomeranian, wasn’t he so adorable that it hurt? What a nice little dog, so easy to pick up and carry, so playful. What could be more delightful than a Pomeranian, strutting with all the pride and conviction of a dog many times his size, leaping and scampering while he revels in the pure joy of living. That nice, fluffy coat makes him so cuddly and protects him so nicely in the winter. Yes, you were right, he was cute, but now you realize that he really is a dog, a dog with rather large teeth for his size, and you wish he would scamper a little less—just enough less so you could catch him when you need to, especially when it is 10 degrees below zero, eleven o’clock at night, and you are so cold and tired you can’t see straight.
When you visited your local shelter and saw those big, pleading eyes, you could not leave without that dog. Those floppy ears looked so doleful, and that scruffy coat had an adorably rumpled look to it. When you took him out of his cage, he greeted you without hesitation as the special person he had been looking for his entire life. You immediately bonded so strongly with him that you hated to leave him long enough to fill out the paperwork for his adoption. Now that you have had him home for a while your dog is still adorable, but he’s also apparently a cross between a Basset Hound and a backhoe. The only time he is not sniffing is when he is digging. Your lawn has so many holes in it that it looks like the face of the moon.
The Pigs Fly dog is generally challenging for the exact reasons that we love him. He is on fire to explore the world. He is often fearless, frequently outgoing, and always ready to have a good time. His powers of reasoning are formidable and rarely at rest. Nothing has changed since the day you picked out your dog—your sighthound is still thrilling to watch, your terrier is still vivacious and entertaining, your plucky toy dog is still an adorable companion, and your mixed breed is still your soul mate. Despite the looks of pity you may receive from “good” dog owners, despite the implied or overt suggestion that your life would just be so much lovelier if you got a nice, quiet, obedient dog, you were right to pick out the dog you did. Whatever he is, he is the dog for you.
Why do we bother with these Pigs Fly dogs? Because we love them, that’s why.
Not everyone measures accomplishment in the same way or finds happiness in the same places. I have shown quite a bit in agility with four Bull Terriers and a Cattle Dog. We have gotten lots of titles and blue ribbons, but the biggest moment for me, hands down, was the first time I took Cherry to a fun match (which is not judged and does not “count” for anything) and she actually stayed in the ring and completed the course. I was so happy I was in tears. Being a team with the dog that I loved was the ultimate prize and that