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Bailey and the completion of training...

Discussion in 'Dog Chat' started by nospinnaker, Sep 8, 2013.


  1. nospinnaker

    nospinnaker PetForums Newbie

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    We took our fourteen month old Lasapoo to France this summer, and we were fretting for weeks about how the doggy end of the holiday would go. Would we get the paperwork straight? Would the dog even think about getting into his crate in a packed car? How would he cope with the ferry? How about the lengthy drive through foreign countryside? The rustic silence? The foreign woofing of French dogs? ...and all that.

    We really were worried, and the first thing that we actually arranged was his pet passport. How Much??? You've got to be kidding me! We only want to take him there, not buy the cottage! But of course we paid, and of course he hated the Rabies jab, and he squealed and I went white because I feel for him. But he got through it and a couple of day later was speaking to us.

    The day arrived and Mary insisted, in the way of all wives, on packing vastly more into our newly acquired small Peugeot SW than we would ever need. I should tell you here that my original Peugeot hatchback was amply roomy, drove brilliantly, sipped diesel with a commendable frugality, and was old enough to scratch or bash without undue worry. The dog, however, deserved to travel in comfort, meaning an automatic gearbox (this from a lady who kangaroos her own automatic around in a manner that would induce tears in the mechanics at the main dealers). We had to have a black one, too, so it would match her existing coupe. Black is the worst colour for a car, but never mind. We have it now, and as I said, it was on this day packed to the rafters. Bailey's crate was more protecting the dog from being crushed by wobbling luggae than anything else. We apparently had to utilise Mary's vast collection of 'bags for life', and these form an unstablepile of insecure random odd stuff. They have no stable base, and all one can see in the mirror is a sea of waving shopping bag handles.

    Bailey hopped in as good as gold, and stayed there. He obviously thought we had departed our senses, and his crate was as safe a place as any. The formalities at the ferry - for which we had to arrive an hour early - consisted of a smiling lady handing us a microchip scanner and asking us to pass it over the dog while she glanced at his passport. That was it, it took perhaps half a minute. We waited, let Bailey out for a wee, and boarded. Bailey curkled up and went to sleep, and stayed that way until we wnt back to the car hours later. He hadn't drunk any water, he hadn't eaten any food, he just stacked Z'z.

    After disembarkation he got out for a wee again, and off we went. He slept until the last few hundred metres of the jorney where the road became impossible, and he was jolted awake. The whole passage an car ride wetre without trauma; he was brilliant.

    He just loved the cottage. He patrolled all the bedrooms and up and down stairs while we were unpacking, and sniffed and tailwagged around until he went outside to explore the huge garden, where fruit trees and grass were the main features. And mole hills. Fresh French mole hills complete with French moles, all of which were far too canny to let a small dog anywhere near them. But they provided endless fascination for Bailey, who loved that garden. Down the lane were cows, of a large variety; these were by a long way the largest animals he had ever seen. That was the moment thsat cameras are made for, and it was the moment I didn't have one; his little face was a complete picture.

    During the whole holiday he didn't bark once, behaved perfectly everywhere, sat happily with us in the evening, and never once let us down. AS the departure loomed we went to a local vet for the tapeworm treatment. We spent a while beforehand translating the requirements from the UK government web site into French and transcribing it, but of course the vet spoke perfect English and knew exactly what was required. Easy peasy, and next time there will be no dog related anxiety.

    My title refers to training being complete, and it is juat that. Bailey has now got us exactly where he wants us, we come when called, we fetch things for him, we take him for a walk when he wants to go, and he resolutely avoids being caught if we reckon he needs a face scrub (which he does right now).

    When the post arrives he alerts us by barking frantically, then he brings us the post. He veers off at the last second and retreats into the forest of chair legs around the dining table. So we have to bribe him (treat!) to get our bank statement or whatever. He runs off with pens too, and if not rewarded (treat!) in a timely fashion will up the pressure by starting to chew. He knows we'll give in.

    And of course he got me to buy a quieter, more comfortable car the better to chauffeur him around.

    He has indeed completed our training...
     

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  2. SarahBee

    SarahBee PetForums Member

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    It sounds like Bailey has done a fine job training you!

    I'm glad you all had a lovely holiday.
     
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