Posted in Greyhound training, Greyhounds and muddy boots., Yorkshireland

In which Cesar Milan 2 tries to encourage me to let my greyhound off the lead… kind of!


“Are you going to let her off then?” said Cesar 2.

We – Cesar Milan 2, his two dogs, my dog – The Daisy Dog and I were idling our Saturday morning away in the field. A field that Cesar 2( my nickname for this fellow dog owner who had been on numerous dog training courses and who admired Cesar Milan and his techniques) classed as being safe and secure enough to let my relatively young greyhound off the lead for the VERY first time!

He smiled his most persuasive smile. This guy clearly knew his stuff and his dogs were proof of that.

However, he didn’t know my dog… I did.

“No, not here and not now.” I told him.

His disappointment was visible. I think he genuinely wanted to help, but, I needed to do things in my time and my own way.

Fast forward to last week.

On a warm, sunny morning the Daisy Dog and I headed twenty minutes down the lane, to a field where I was fairly sure we wouldn’t be disturbed. I was right, there wasn’t a soul in sight. I put a harness on The Daisy Dog… and  she refused to walk in it. I put her collar back on and she walked fine… even though the new training lead was still attached to the harness.

I fed some of the lead out of a new bag that I have purchased to house the monster of a lead( which extends to about three miles!). In the new bag were water bottles for the dog and I, doggy poo bags, about three pounds of sausages and turkey, for training purposes, a picnic – for when I got peckish and  a sleeping bag – for when I got tired. I was a brownie, (Sixer of the Gnomes, to be exact) as a child and my motto still is be prepared! It’s just  these days the preparation has to be housed in a bigger, bag and I sometimes struggle to carry my preparedness. It flops around all over the place and sticks out way too much, and sometimes I trip up over it!

Anyhow, I tied off the lead, to stop it pulling out uncontrollably… and me tripping up over that as well. The Daisy Dog didn’t really seem to realise that she had the freedom to run a bit further from me. In fact she shadowed me all around the field, in much the same way she always does. It could have been something to do with the huge shadow that I was casting. Why bake in the hot sun when you have a huge shadow of preparedness to cool down in?  So, no recall training was done on that outing.

Towards the end of the walk, hot and sticky trudge in the field, in an over zealous attempt to give her some more lead, I got the lead in the bag very tangled up. I also needed the toilet and I’d forgotten to pack one. ( Brown Owl would be so distraught!)

So, I put her back on to her shorter lead and we headed home. Over a cuppa I untangled my messy lead, whilst the Daisy Dog snored loudly on her part of the sofa. Yes, she has her own section of the sofa. No, she isn’t spoilt at all!

I haven’t seen Cesar 2 recently.

Credit: gifsoup.com

I feel sure if I do, he’ll have some advice for me. I wonder if he can give some pointers on how to stop my three miles of training lead getting tangled up in my bag?

The training of the Daisy Dog continues… watch this rather erratic space!

How about you?

Do any of you use training leads for your pooches?

Any bits of advice?

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

 

Author:

Many moons ago, I started to write. But, as life twisted and turned the only thing I got to write was letters, in my job. Things changed, I left my job and returned to the writing. I have loads of ideas and very little time to do them in.( Sound familiar?) I write, because I need to. When I am unable to write I walk in the shadow of madness. Some folk would argue that I'm there already. As well as writing, I read, paint, garden, knit and have just started making candles. I am owned by a retired greyhound called Daisy. My previous greyhound(Misty) was the inspiration to get writing again. Daisy is keeping that inspiration alive. Thanks for reading. Dorne x

Go on...make my day/life and leave a comment. I don't bite...much!

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