We Did It

May 31, 2025 – I realized in the morning that I’ve taken and passed this Pet Partners test, three times, albeit many years ago, twice with sweet golden Zenga and once with Boone the humble greyhound.

Zenga’s penchant for soft fleecy toys was challenged by the miniature Clifford-the-Big-Red Dog stuffed animal that he had to pass during the “Leave It” part of the test, and the evaluator admitted when we were done that she thought we “were a goner” as she saw his wide eyes and raised ears after setting it on our prescribed path. But he heard the unspoken underlying “and I mean it” in my “leave it” request and resisted the urge to grab the little stuffed setter as we passed by.

Boone’s colossally laid-back character made for a colossally stress-free evaluation. He was more likely to lag than drag during the loose-leash walking exercises; he welcomed interaction with people, none of whom he considered a stranger, and he because had no interest in other dogs, whether he knew them or not, ignoring the neutral dog came naturally.

But Ruffian’s big challenges would be 1. relaxing enough to politely interact with strange people in a strange place and 2. getting out of the truck so he could go into a strange place and interact with strange people, neither of which we’ve mastered despite countless trips and training sessions in strange places with strange people.

Appearance and grooming count for this test, so Ruff was subjected to the full spa treatment on Friday night, his resistance to which left me with a pulled hip muscle, but we wouldn’t lose points for a limping handler, so I took that one for the team.

To keep us (well ok, me) calm, we started our Saturday, as we usually do, with a walk in the park, followed by thorough brushing on the grooming table to remove any grassy remains before we headed for the fairgrounds.

Because this evaluation technically begins with the team’s arrival at the testing site, I prepared some strategies for dislodging Ruffian from the truck if he shrunk back to the dark side of his crate when I opened the lift gate and planned to park in a space a little obscured from the entry door.

Fear not, he was right at the front, perfectly placed to show me the deep brown wood tick burrowing into his bright white forehead. I picked it off and tossed it in the dirt, sparing it my usual tick-torture tactics, setting it free to drink on some other dog, then completed a cursory visual check and tactile inspection to make sure this parasite had worked alone, thankful for Ruff’s ivory fur that offers no camouflage for the little bloodsucking critters.

We entered the test building, a cavernous metal structure that houses agricultural exhibitions during the county fair, and as our evaluator reviewed our paperwork, Ruffian and I wandered around to get familiar with the place.

Ruff was uneasy but under control, though he did startle at the giant fan blades spinning slowly and silently on the ultra-high ceiling. The evaluator marveled that no one, neither she nor any of the teams that preceded us, had noticed them all day.

Great to be a pioneer.

We started a little rough, Ruff was obviously stressed, and we finished the first half of the evaluation on the edge of earning a Not Ready rating, which would’ve sent us home immediately. No passing Go, no collecting two hundred dollars, no green participation ribbon.

But Ruffian pulled himself together for his last-chance exercise and proved his Therapy Dog potential. Not only did he accept the hugging, petting and touching of the volunteers, but he looked around for more when they moved away. He showed interest in engagement with very volunteer and earned a “Very polite dog!” bonus comment on his “Offered a treat” exercise.

So, we passed the test. I couldn’t convince him to sit too close to the Very Scary ottoman that held his Certificate of Completion, but we’re good for the next 2 years, plenty of time to refine the skills and build the confidence to face his fears of ceiling fans and furniture.

A very scary ottoman

Road Signs for Ruffian – Pet Partners Therapy Dog
Ten months ago
We faced our fears
With practice and a test
We passed and now
Repeat it all
In only two more years.

Obedience 1 for the Third Time

A little short on time, but needing a little training, I opted to combine my errands with Ruffian’s schooling, loaded him into the truck and headed “into town”, where I parked on the main block of the main street, poured Ruff out of his car crate and walked half a block to the post office.

As is his M.O., once out of the truck he moved along with me, sling-shotting between just behind my left knee and just in front of my left foot, where he doesn’t exactly pull, but neither does he walk with what would pass as the “loose leash” expected in our upcoming Therapy Dog evaluation.

In the post office lobby, we met two kind strangers who commented on his good looks and asked permission to pet him. Perfect practice for Exercises 2 and 3 in the Skills Assessment of the evaluation.

He sat readily and quietly for the head pats and ear scratches, and while he’d earn top scores for prompt response to, and maintaining contact with, his handler, based on the quivering of his hind quarters, he’d lose a couple points in the Relaxed Body Language category.

It occurs to me that I could stand strategically for that part of the test, to shield his shivers from the eyes of the evaluator, but
a. I expect s/he will be experienced enough to see through the screen, and even more,
b. I’d like Ruff to believe that he is safe when I’m standing next to him, even when surrounded by curious crowds in strange spaces with odd odors and novel noises.

We left the post office and despite his desire to beeline straight for the truck, walked around the block that is Main Street. We rounded the corner across from the fire station and I noticed the sign on the town’s newest business – a dog training center. Hmmm.

There is a QR code posted on the door, but I opted for an old-school laptop internet search when I got home, and discovered a new Obedience class had started the night before and would run through mid-April.

Mid-April would give us plenty of time to practice our freshly honed skills and even allow enrollment in a second short class to prep for our end of May evaluation.

So, I emailed the instructor who replied Immediately, and yada, yada, yada, Ruff and I are 4 weeks into Level 1 Obedience.

Again.

The third time seems to be a charm for our educational pursuits, and the magic starts once we settle in our space in the training center, but I’ve yet to crack the code for getting my comely coward out of the truck in any public space, without considerable coaxing.

He is slightly more amenable to leaving his safe spot, which is to say I no longer have to drag the whole dang crate, fully loaded with a reluctant retriever, out of the hatchback. But unless Rowdy’s with us to run reconnaissance, Ruff still hangs tight, hugging the blue nylon barrier that protects him from the menace that may forever remain a mystery.

Sometimes he’ll face the fear enough to stand in the opening of the front flap, but he’s yet to summon the courage for the daring leap to the outside world.

So, I tap the top of the travel kennel, jiggle it just enough to encourage him to exit the Explorer without the need to tilt the crate to a 45-degree angle, and after a few moments of soulful stares, reassuring ear rubs and reminders that we have safely completed this mission on at least 67 previous occasions, he takes the trust fall, gives me minimal time to press the close button on the tailgate and we advance post-haste to the entrance of the building.

Once inside, the anxiety eases as we make our way to our usual spot in the back right corner, first chair facing West – seems all the students, 2- and 4-leggeds alike, are creatures of habit who appreciate the comfort of consistency.

Our classmates include two darling doodles and a charming Chihuahua who hops his way around the room mostly on his hind legs. His owner’s objective is to teach him that the tiny toes on all four of his feet should touch the floor, and like the rest of us, she’s seeing some success in embracing instructor Kelly’s counsel that short periods of everyday practice pay dividends.

On a daily basis now Ruffian is sitting, lying, standing, staying, waiting, and loose-leash-walking up in the office, down in the family room, on the stairs, in the barn, on the driveway, in the park. We vary duration, distance and distractions, and all this thinking exhausts much of the mental energy previously used to fuel his desire to chew slippers, socks and throw rugs.

He still conducts the occasional raid of the clothes hamper in the closet, and sometimes grabs the bath mat in front of the tub, but it’s mostly for show or old-time’s sake. He drops them as soon as we make eye contact.

We’re still working in the low distraction zone, but I’m encouraged by our progress. Ruff seems to enjoy the engagement, he’s willing to try what I’m asking him to do, even if it means lying down at the back door or walking in heel position around the pool table.

I like where this is going.

I like the fun of dog training classes, being around people who like being around dogs.

I like learning new techniques from a trainer with a sense of humor.

I like listening to the sound of dog paws padding across a rubber matted floor.

I love watching the lights coming on as Ruff figures out the right response.

I just don’t like pouring seventy-five pounds of pup onto the parking lot.

I’ll wait here

Road Signs for Ruffian – Obedience Begins Again
We’re at it again
Another dog class
The test’s scheduled for May
Here’s hoping we pass