Clearly my first day at puppy class got off to a bumpy start. Some might say it was a total failure but that would be incorrect. Turns out my bad behavior was the start of something very important. It laid the foundation for my future and the deep bond I would establish with my Mom.
When the dog trainer man Dave held me for nearly an hour while I struggled, I learned something. I learned that I was not always in charge of my world. I learned that I needed to listen to the people who cared about me. I learned that despite my good looks and charm, I was not meant to live without rules.
And how did I learn that you might ask? Through the gentle art of passive restraint. Passive restraint is the technique Dave used when he held me gently and wouldn’t let me have my way. Passive restraint is what Mom used to teach me to be calm and settle down.
After my first class Dave sent Mom home with an assignment. Twice a day, morning and evening, she was to sit on the floor with me on her lap and hold me quietly for thirty minutes. She wasn’t to talk to me other than to murmur a few calm sounds. If I struggled, she was to intensify her grip. If I relaxed, she was to give me more space to move around on her lap.
We started on our assignment the first evening after class. Mom took me to a quiet room in the house. We sat down on the floor. I stretched out on my back against her chest with my legs sticking out between her legs. For half an hour we sat together. Initially it felt like torture. I wanted to be out running around with Ash and instead I was stuck in a quiet room doing absolutely nothing.
It was clear resistance was futile. Just like Dave, Mom held onto me until I quit struggling. Gradually I began to accept this silly routine and even welcome it. After all, I got thirty minutes of Mom’s undivided attention. I began to fall asleep in her arms and rarely fussed. Sometimes she had to wake me up when our session was over.
As we got towards the end of our month long assignment, Mom started playing music mostly to entertain herself. I really didn’t care one way or the other. But I did notice a pattern. A certain melody played just as the thirty minute session came to an end. It was a dreamy piece. It made me wake up happy. Mom said it was the first of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. Who knew! I didn’t even know who Bach was til Mom explained, but since it signaled the end of our quiet time, I was very happy to make his acquaintance.







