Training Miss Goldie

Goldie, a month-old Golden Retriever, arrived to share the next decade of my life. After the initial excitement of a new pup, I had to negot...

Goldie, a month-old Golden Retriever, arrived to share the next decade of my life. After the initial excitement of a new pup, I had to negotiate the nitty-gritty of doggie care. Feeding, bathing, grooming, and even basic obedience were easy tasks. But toilet training a willful puppy was a job fraught with uncertainty. Since I lived in an apartment, if there were an offer for instant toilet training I would have grabbed it with both hands. But, alas, no quick-fix solutions presented themselves. Fear of failure dogged me. Being a first-time dog owner, I had no cushion of experience to fall back. Unlike other aspects of doggie care, this seemed mysterious.

I delved into doggie care books, and the Internet for tips. Toilet training must begin the day the puppy steps into your home, they proclaim. However, a success mantra for toilet training a dog proved elusive to my utter disappointment. Instead all the books explained the principles of toilet training: stimulus-response theory, operant conditioning and other principles that reduced canine behavior to easily manageable units.

I then decided to set to work with the diligence of a wide-eyed student who hangs on to every word of her favourite teacher. Goldie’s unpredictable calls of nature further strengthened my resolve. She’d relieve herself in ever-widening puddles, while I stood paralysed! Hard as I tried, it was difficult to predict when she’d do the “job”. No place was sacred for Goldie, who exercised the right to defile wherever and whenever she chose.

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Instead of relying on borrowed experience, I then decided to enlist Goldie as a participant in the process. She was just over a month old and clearly needed time and space to understand what was expected of her. Perhaps, in my anxiety, I was rushing her when she was ready to be primed for the task.

Gradually, I learnt to read her body language that told me when she needed to relieve herself. A sure bet was after a feed, and I’d take her for a walk. Thus emerged a pattern of predictability. Meanwhile I placed a mat inside Goldie’s room for her to lie down. One day Goldie surprised me when she relieved herself on the mat! “Good, Goldie!” I praised her. She wagged her tail and wallowed in her hard-earned praise.

Thereafter this became a regular occurrence. A few days later, Goldie was on one of her exploration sprees in the house. Propelled by a mysterious force, she circled the mat. I held my breath. Goldie was reliving herself on the mat. Goldie had done it. The experience has taught me that perseverance, like most of life endeavours, is a process; a journey; and not a destination.

I’ve learned to enjoy the process rather than obsess with the end product. Patience and sustained effort are necessary, for there are no short cuts to success. Goldie deserves my eternal gratitude for that lesson!