Gatsby, Norby, Zenga, Boone – all dogs I have loved and successfully trained to be registered Therapy animals. Rowdy will be number 5, and the one I expect(ed) will be the best, which, for those who knew The Great One, is sayin’ something.

But here we are, 2 weeks into our Therapy Dog training program, with a solid hold on Bottom of the Class. Not that Rowdy’s a bad dog of course, he’s simply being Rowdy. In every way.

This is a positive-reinforcement-only program, using clickers and treats, a method with which we had great success in our early days together, as you can read about here if interested.

But before I get to the treat part, which (Spoiler Alert!) ended a bit badly, some background: our homework after the first class included instructions to compile a list of our dog’s attributes, framed in a positive context, which theoretically compels us to frame our training approach with a similarly positive perspective.

So while some may call him distracted, nosy and unruly, I think of Rowdy as aware of his surroundings, interested in the world around him, and eager to engage with others. Click and treat.

Week 2 played heavily into that Distraction piece, but Rowdy bypassed Aware and moved directly into Red-Alert, just this side of panic, when he saw a boy in a wheelchair, and a baby in her Mom’s arms. The big group meeting on the other side of the curtain in our training room, heard but never seen, added a little more angst.

But we persevered, clicking and treating for the slightest indication of focus on the tasks at hand, which happened to include a lot of “Wait” practice – waiting at the doorway for my a-ok to pass through; waiting quietly while I greeted a “friendly stranger” played by our instructor; and waiting for permission to visit a “potential client” played by another student.

We’ve done enough doorway-waiting at home for that to be standard procedure. But denial of the chance to meet a new friend is killer for my gregarious golden, and the only reason Rowdy didn’t jump full force into my classmate’s lap is because I violated the No Restraining order and pulled him away. It will be our biggest challenge in this process, no matter how high the treat ante.

Even Week 1’s incessantly barking goldendoodle demonstrated restraint this week, so Rowdy and I donned our proverbial dunce caps as we got in the truck. We rode home in silent reflection of the evening’s events, contemplating our motive for participation in this class, and the mindset and methods necessary for success.

At least that’s what I did. Rowdy was apparently working on the method of digesting all those many tiny bits of kibble, chicken and rabbit treats that he’d earned for limiting his liveliness. Twenty-four hours later I picked up the last canine cow pie, grateful that all but one made it to the dog yard, and that all systems had now returned to regular go.

Of course the single miss wasn’t on the easy-clean wood floors that cover the entire main level, but instead landed on the 8-foot runner in the front entry. And of course that rug is laundromat-large-capacity-machine-washable-only.

Fortunately, Nature’s Miracle Pet Stain & Odor Destroyer and my Little Green Machine cleaned it up pretty well. Equally fortunate, it’s a dimly lit room.

So, we carry on. We think positive. We practice. We mince hi-value treats into micro bits.

And I stock up on carpet cleaner.