A Shocking Task

We've developed quite a love/hate relationship with this little puppy of ours. We strongly dislike him (yes, I've always encouraged my kids not to use the "h" word) when he's peeing or pooping on our rug, or when he's shredding a piece of paper or the carpet or the Reading Corner chair or my baby's toes. We love him in the evening after the kids have gone to bed; he's so cuddly and calm then. In these evening hours he konks out on my his chair and is the most lovable little pup in the world.

Because we can't live all of our hours in the evening hours, we decided it's got to be boot camp around here. (And if you're some type of PETA freak reading this, just stop now and move on to another blog.) It came down to a decision: kick puppy to the curb or train him right. So after a very pricey vet visit, we bought him a very pricey collar...of the shocking sort. Our last dogs were trained very efficiently on the invisible fence, so we know this type of "therapy" works. And so far it has been quite effective. The only thing is that obviously you have to catch him the act to zap him. So what time he spends out of his crate I follow him around very faithfully and train him with my little green remote. Now he's to the point that he generally just needs to hear the audible beep as a warning and he stops his unwanted behavior. Of course on a couple of occasions I've had to zap him one. He's learning, though, so hopefully we won't be booting him to the curb, and our relationship will begin to tip the scales on the love.

I must add that when we first got the collar, unpacked it and assembled it, we explained the whole process to the kids and also warned that the little green remote is off-limits to little fingers who love pressing buttons. The kids listened with rapt attention, and Michael asked, "When he gets shocked, will we be able to see his bones?"

Perhaps the boy has watched one too many cartoons?