Once I managed to get Jackson through the first few weeks of kennel training, not without many sleepless nights, we then embarked on what I laughingly refer to as “Puppy Obedience Classes”.
I remember with fondness how excited I was to take him. He would socialize, play, and learn good manners and etiquette. I would without doubt have the best puppy in the class (I must mention I was not taking illicit drugs at this time, so as to cause delusions of grandeur; oh no, the delusions seemed to have come with the puppy all on their own).
The first night. I show up with bells on for the premier evening of classes, slightly early which would enable me to pay for the classes and register before we got started.
I had purchased a new leather leash, and with his new bright blue collar and I must say he looked dashing at 12 weeks old.
As we were the first ones in (albeit I was dragged in by my 20 lb. pup), with no distractions, I decided to sit on a metal chair that was available, and simply tie Jackson to the leg of the chair. Simple enough I thought. I could easily just get out my chequebook and proceed writing out the cheque for the class. Again, delusions of grandeur.
At some point midway filling out the cheque, a flurry of activity arose from the doorway to the classroom, in which a poor unsuspecting puppy owner was dragged behind her pup, purse flying, leash taut, her pup wide-eyed and frothing like a horse at the Kentucky Derby, tongue hanging out like a salted ham..and enter Jackson into the fray of course.
Jack took one look at that other pup and launches, full speed ahead, into a hysterical greeting with this other pup. He is, of course, still tied to my chair, and hence Jackson, the chair, me and my chequebook all skated across the slick floor at rocket speed. The tangle of puppies and owners at that point was rather like an old Bugs Bunny cartoon where all you see in a cartoon fight is a giant swirl with the occasional limb sticking out here and there, and general chaos.
Eventually we got going in the classes, and were learning one evening the “Leave It” exercise. You have to picture 20 puppies, all shapes and sizes, all sitting like little sentinels “waiting” for the cue to “take it” (the it being a piece of treat on the ground in front of them).
Well, it got to be a bit more waiting than Jack was prepared to do, so what does my pup do? He gets tired of waiting for his treat, and proceeds to bolt over to Buddy’s treat to the right of us, and inhale his piece. The look on Buddy’s face was absolutely one of wide-eyed shock. And Jack looks at me as if to say, “What? I left MINE. What’s the problem?”
At this point the instructor is giving me the evil eye, glancing at us with the that-is-completely-unacceptable-in-this-class look.
Needless to say, after several regrettable scenes created by my boy, we did end up receiving the coveted Certificate of Completion.