Scentus Interruptus
Yesterday, Glindy and I were at the
supermarket getting some lamb riblets for her dinner. As we were
standing in the checkout line, the little girl sitting in the
shopping cart in front of us started pointing at Glindy and
squealing in excitement.
Glindy finds little children fascinating: they make high-pitched
noises, they smell funny, and they move erratically. And so, when
this little girl started squealing and making direct eye contact
with Glindy, she had Glindy's full attention.
With this little girl's encouragement, Glindy started whining in
excitement, too. A squealing girl and a whining dog: quite the
matched pair, I thought. I knew what was coming next, though, and
was therefore unsurprised when Glindy broke her stay, fully intent
on inhaling a noseful of child-scented air from as close as
possible.
I calmly put Glindy back in a sit. I pretended to turn my attention
elsewhere, and waited for her to try again. My expectations were
met rather quickly, as she broke her stay the moment I was no
longer looking directly at her.
No biggie. I just put her back in her stay again, intending to do
this as many times as necessary. After a few repetitions of this,
she got the message and settled in at my feet.
As the girl's father finished paying, he turned to me and said he
was sorry. I told him not to worry, and that I was grateful for the
training opportunity they had provided us. I waved to them as they
left and praised Glindy for sitting quietly at my feet, however
belatedly.