Pepper is my most beloved and cherished dog. He's been a member of our family for 11 years and he'll be 12 this November. It's been a joy and a privilege to share life with him. As it happens with those we spend our days with, there are a lot of things I know from spending time with him over the years.
He loooooooves food and enjoys opportunities to earn it by performing certain behaviors that he knows will yield rewards. He loves sharing our bed with us, but does it on his own terms. He's so visibly delighted that it's finally springtime. He loves pets and scratches and lap time with people who pet and scratch. Lap time with mom (me) is accepted if necessary but not preferred, as there runs too high a risk of being hugged and Pepper does not like hugs! He also doesn't like baths, loud sudden noises, strange noises of any kind, general kitchen noises, other dogs, haircuts, and toenail trims.
Because of the aforementioned eagerness to work for food, he will pose for the camera which makes photographing him a real treat. We've taught him to "Wait" for camera clicks, for his meal to be served, for us to leave the house, and for all other sorts of things. "Wait" is our biggest calming word around here and he's super responsive to it. As many good tricks and behaviors do, they started practically. Wait for us to open and get out the door so we aren't tripping over you and stepping on you. Wait for us to serve your food so you aren't all up in our face and we're spilling it everywhere. Wait for us to take the picture... umm, well just because you're so darn cute. It's a helpful cue to let him know that we're not quite finished, not quite there yet, but that relief is coming soon: the door will open, the food will be served, the camera will click and he can run freely on his way.
The biggest thing we've been working on lately is toenail trims. They're a stressful event for the whole family. Recently, I decided to redouble my efforts in helping all of us feel more comfortable and confident about nail trims. They've been going super well. With me treating him abundantly between each nail trim, and clipping only the tiniest portion off so that he acclimates to the sound and feeling and pressure without any risk of pain, we've seen steady progress. He still doesn't like them, but it's no longer like trying to contain a wild animal fearful for his life. There's no clawing, there's no immediate growling and I've gotten him to a place where he tolerates it as he tolerates haircuts: he doesn't like them, but he'll put up with them.
It's my job to keep carefully appraised of his body language to know when I can push him a little further and clip one more thing or when it's time to call it a day, let meaty treats rain down from the heavens, and watch his gleeful, bouncy body and smiling face bound joyfully out of the room to savor his freedom and his tasty morsels. If I misread his body language, or (more likely) get distracted by the task at hand and miss his nonverbal body language cues as they progress... then a small, quiet growl gets the job done. He has politely made his needs known and we wrap things up and go about our day.
So this morning it was time to work on the back paws. He went into it with all of the confidence of delicious food about to come. I went into it with all the confidence of several good sessions under our belt. And then, only two nails in and without any verbal input from him to let me know that something was wrong on the previous clip, the floodgates opened and I suddenly found myself staring at a very convincing murder scene. Of course he was just happy to get the treats and oblivious to the blood he was trailing EVERYWHERE. So I scrambled to get him treated (because he earned his payoff and I certainly won't be the one to deny him that reward!) and then to get him quarantined. I got him his breakfast and made him a bandage for his paw and started cleaning up the bloody mess. In the living room. In the closet. In the bathroom. All the places he excitedly ran after earning his treat and before I could get him tucked away and bandaged.
All of this stirred up so many thoughts and feelings as I cleaned the house, myself, and the dog through all of this. First, it reminded me of just how delicate and bloody we all are. When I cut myself I know to apply pressure and lift my hand above my head and to wash it carefully and bandage it. I watch the blood go down the drain as I wash it. It's all very safe and sanitary. Pepper doesn't know to do any of those things and so he just ran around on his paw, tracking blood everywhere, and it reminded me how fleshy and tender we are. We're all just blood and bone and muscle.
But in addition to feeling existential and life-pondering I was feeling the weight of my responsibility to this creature I invited to share life with me and grateful for how it was all playing out. We trained Pepper to 'Wait' because it makes for nicer manners day in and day out. It also makes for a plethora of wonderful photographs we'll treasure forever. So rarely do we ever think of how our training 'Wait' or 'Come' could help us when we really need it to. Today I made a typical Wait request to Pepper so I could trim his nails. When that didn't go quite as planned, I got him quarantined and asked him to Wait there while I started triaging the situation. I asked him to Wait while I checked his tender paw and to Wait again when I knelt next to him and made his bandage and fitted it to him. I reiterated my request when the tape made scary noises and he wasn't amused. He Waited even when I accidentally caught some fur in the tape and it tugged on it. He jumped and made a move to get away from the tape, but I asked him again to Wait. He Waited the whole time.
With him bandaged, I moved on to clean up. I put him in the bathroom and asked him to Wait as I scrubbed the living room and closet floors. When I came to release him from the bathroom I saw his bandage was leaking through, so I asked him to Wait as I added more tape to the bottom of the bandage. Then I scrubbed some more floors. He was rewarded after every one of these periods of Waiting for a job well done, which is also why he coped so well with the whole ordeal and was so patient with playing along. (It's also why I couldn't get him to settle down and get off his paw, because there was too much excitement in the hoped for payoff of playing the Waiting Game!)
Once he calmed and got a period of rest off his feet, I came back to remove his bandage and check his paw. He was still bleeding steadily although it had slowed. After every hated thing I asked of him this morning, he wound up in one of his least favorite places in the house: the bathtub. I got his paw properly washed and cleaned. Then started fashioning him a new bandage, with the tape that makes scary noises, as he sat in the unfriendly bathtub. All the while, as I washed and dried and popped into the kitchen for more paper towels and some flour (to help with clotting), and folded and taped, and bandaged I asked him to Wait. And he did.
We have a responsibility to our furry loved ones to give them the best care that we can. And training good manners should never be a thing we underestimate. With consistent teaching and expectations and reward, not only do we promote a healthy relationship of respect in the day-to-day, but we have it in our back-pocket when we really need it. After all of the time that Pepper and I have spent investing in our relationship and our training, we have a trust that allows me to say "Wait a little longer. Now please just wait some more. I know this is all of your top 3 least favorite things all at once right now, but trust me. I wouldn't ask if it weren't needed. And you know I'm good at keeping my word... you will get paid for your hard work and your patience. Just hang in there a little longer."
Today I'm grateful of the relationship that I have with my dog. Of the work we've put into it together. Of the trust and bond that we have. That when things get messy or scary or overwhelming that we are both better at coping with it because we know how to work together. I hope that in reading this you go hug someone you love and cherish that you share a bond that y'all have worked on and built together. And if you have a pet, I hope you'll think about what fun activities you can do to get to know each other better, to enjoy each other's company more, and to build even more trust in your shared relationship. They need us, they rely on us. By inviting them into a life of domesticity it is our responsibility to take care of their full well-being, which is so much more than food and shelter; it's a commitment to their hearts and minds as well. ❤️