Behavior Modification: People and Dogs (101)

Here is the way it began:

Molly finishes eating her dinner, and goes to her water dish. It is empty. She looks at me. I get up, fill the dish, set it down in front of her. She drinks her fill. Nonverbal communication, check.

Molly goes to the back door, touches the knob with her nose, looks at me. I get it. I get up, open the door, she goes out. Mission accomplished.

She brings me her ball. I am concentrating on the crossword puzzle. She sits quietly patient. She whines. I don't hear her. She barks one time, shrill enough to get my attention. Hey! Pick it up! Let's have some action here! I can't wait all day! Finally, I throw the ball, beginning the game that lasts for a while until she tires. She is a very strong dog and doesn't tire easily. When she does, she sets the ball down where it is within her reach and takes a nap. The day has begun.

Once, when I had my left elbow on the table, she stuck the ball up into my armpit. Imagine looking up from your puzzle and finding a ball stuffed under your arm and you weren't even aware that the game had started. Wake up!

We wake up at 3 a.m. I get up and go to the bathroom. Molly opens one eye. If I return directly, she doesn't move. If I take two steps towards the kitchen for a drink, she is at my side by the third step. Her radar is working. She never misses.

Although many toys have been provided for her, she keeps the amount down to about three. The others are either buried, eaten, lost, or otherwise indisposed. Shake the peanut jar, and she will drop what she is doing and stand at the ready. I tell her "Go long." And, she backs up for the high fly. I tell her, "Left field," and before I get it out of my mouth, there she is, to the left. Then she makes a beeline for right field because she knows the next peanut hit will be there, and she gets ready for "Line Drive!" wherein the missile goes straight towards her snout and she snaps it up and gives me a look that says, Is that all you got?

For some reason, she refuses to fetch her leash, even if I ask her, "Do you want to go for a ride?" Yes, she wants to go for a ride, and yes, she will stand still to attach the leash, but she will be damned if she will fetch it; get it yourself, is her attitude.

"Molly, do you want to watch the rabbits?" makes her run to the picture window and look outside. There are lots of rabbits, who if close, evoke the border collie Crouch and Stare. The rabbits somehow realize they are in the target sights and they hold really still, even though Molly is behind a glass window -- they seem to know or feel the eyes upon them. Seeing the coyotes makes her very nervous. She goes a bit haywire and doesn't calm down until a period of time passes. She wants no part of them, thank goodness.

But today was a little scary. She had been outside for a couple of hours while I worked on the income tax return. Needing a break, I went out on the patio where she greeted me. It is getting a little warm here in Arizona, and I looked at her and I wondered whether she would like to play in her washtub. I just thought that thought without glancing at the tub. She was looking at me and she immediately ran to the washtub, then to the end of the hose, and then looked back at me. I thought, Now she is reading my mind. This is peculiar, like Alice in Wonderland. What next?

Surely, the dog can't be anticipating my thoughts...can she? How could this be possible? She usually doesn't play in her washtub until late afternoon... this was before lunch, so there was no precedent as to time of day... Maybe it's like when horses learn to count.

I don't know... but I sure am impressed.