The Great American Dog

I often attribute why I became a dog trainer to the first dog I ever owned. I was 15yrs old when our family piled in the mini-van and headed down to a breeder, Gleneden Labradoodles, in Virginia to pick up our very own Labradoodle puppy. Yes, my very first dog was from a breeder. Why? We discovered that the Labradoodle breed is hypoallergenic with a wonderful temperament. It was the first breed my mother met where she did not immediately have an asthma attack. And this breeder is professional with a wonderfully maintained facility. Every dog needs a home. And this was the first time my family had found a dog that we could actually take home!

His name was Seamus. He was handsome, intelligent, with one of the nicest temperaments I have ever come across. We collectively trained him as a family, with guidance from The Monks of New Skete books and VHS series on dog training. We invested in this dog as a family, we trained him as a family, we loved him as a family, and as a result, he became a part of the family.

Seamus was not an incredibly cuddly dog, but he loved to be where you were. However, he had a knack for making people like him that otherwise would have preferred to ignore him. An example that comes to mind is when I brought my best friend home from college for the first time. She is originally from Zimbabwe, and from a cultural standpoint she was not crazy about the fact that we kept our dog in doors. However, she was a good sport and resolved to just ignore the dog the entire time. This did not last long. Because my friend’s energy was one of calm indifference, Seamus wanted nothing more than to get to know her BETTER. He was immediately drawn to her energy and wherever she went, he followed. When she still wouldn’t acknowledge him, he went to his go-to Seamus behavior which was ‘put something in my mouth that I shouldn’t have and walk around with it until someone notices.’ What did he choose? My friend’s slippers! Seamus got his response! My friend went over to him, shaking her finger, saying no, but couldn’t help but smile at this goof who just wanted her to say hi to him. By the end of the visit, Seamus was cuddling with my friend on the couch…something he rarely did with any of us. Seamus had a new friend, and I was fascinated. That visit made me realize with 100% certainty on what I wanted to do with my life: work with dogs.

We raised Seamus with love and a level of expectations. None of us knew anything about dogs. He was our guinea pig when it came to training, but we all knew that if we taught him the behavior we wanted from him, and showed him how to do it, and then expected that follow through every time, that he would comply. And he did. As a result, he was a happy dog that we could take anywhere. Some of my favorite memories are riding the train with him into Manhattan. People were amazed that such a big dog rode the train so nicely. The looks we got strolling through Grand Central Terminal and walking the streets of New York were awesome. And when people asked me how he did it, the easiest way for me to explain myself at the time was, this is what I expect from him and he’s happy because I’m happy!

We spent 8 1/2yrs loving and learning from this beautiful dog. His ability to retain vast amounts of information and befriend anyone he met never ceased to amaze us. He even befriended the mailman and almost every afternoon would take his ball to the fence, push it underneath, and wait for the mailman to throw it for him. Yes we built a good foundation for him, but the personality that developed from it was all his own. He was the first dog to show me that they can be our teachers as much as we are theirs. We just both have to take the time and patience to learn from one another.

Liver cancer took our boy away from us quickly and unexpectedly. On his last morning with us, I took him out to his yard where we could sit and be peaceful together. It was a mild January morning, and you could tell he was grateful to be laying on the cool grass and taking in the breeze. As I watched him from a distance,  I quietly thanked him for being the truest friend a girl could ask for. At that moment, he turned and looked at me. It was a deep, soulfullook that only a well loved dog can give you. One who was as grateful for you as you were for them. It was his way of telling me that it was OK…that it would all be OK. Seamus has physically left this world, but the pawprint he left on my heart will always be there. The ones we love never really leave us, and Seamus is no exception. The lessons he taught me have made me a better person, a better dog owner, and a better dog trainer. He truly was, in our opinion, The Great American Dog.

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There Is No Such Thing As A “Bad Dog”

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Act Like A Dog