Boxing Day with Coco
Pretty Coco is continuing her adventures daily. She's getting sillier and sillier, and more confident both in and out of the house. It's slow going outside, but indoors she's finding it's okay to sniff around, okay to initiate contact with humans (she's definitely got that one down!), okay to eat her food without fear, okay to let me take her paws from any direction, okay to let me brush her teeth, okay to enjoy being groomed, and that when I say "GOOD GIRL!", it's worth checking my hands for treats!
I'm sorry for the lack of pictures for this post. Holidays and all that. The two I have seem obsolete to me now, but for the sake of history, I offer you these from a couple nights ago:
Look at the body language here. Brilly is observing her move into the somewhat crowded space between couches and wall, but is relaxed, ears soft, eyes soft. Coco is watching him out of the corner of her eye: politely not looking right at him. She's moving slowly, but not in a stalking mode, just not to startle, give offense, or over-commit before a retreat becomes too hard. Pogo is fully reclined on the bed on the right.
Here, Brilly is relaxing completely, but Coco still hasn't decided it's alright to just come over onto the bed in front of her (and me). Pogo, as you can see from his foot, never even bothered a second glance.
This is old news now. Coco will take a bed, no matter who's where, or lie on the rug, or walk through sniffing for bits of carrot that might have been missed, stepping over heads, feet and cats like it's nothing.
I've finally seen the lightbulb go on for the word "GOOD", which often precedes a treat, and that it might have something to do with what she just did. It's not that she's stupid, she's just had her mind so full of safety measures that there was no room for such fripperies. If a treat appeared, she'd eat it: that was all she felt the need to understand. Now she's beginning to understand it might possibly be that she can make treats appear!
Outdoors is still a different story. In the yard, she's getting more relaxed, even participating in a few short romps with the boys. Very short, but hey! And, she will leave the gate to come to me when called, wiggling with anticipation of being rubbed all over. She explores a little bit before heading back to the gate. On walks, it's been interesting to see her reaction to the various settings. Yesterday, everyone seemed keyed up. As we drove up to a parking spot in the marine park in Blaine, there were two dogs with their people, and the boy-dogs both barked at them, setting a tone. When we got out, Coco couldn't take her eyes off of one of the dogs, gone well ahead of us, with his master. I couldn't tell if she wanted to go forward and investigate the dog, or run away from it. Or both, since she was pulling this way and that. When we finally lost that dog, we had made it to the non-park part of the walk, going out to the pier. Last time, she'd been unhappy with that stretch, and it was a lot of work (training: stop, turn, wait, face the opposite direction, step, stop, turn, back up, step, step, stop .... with praise for every step made before she puts pressure on the leash) to get to the end, then back to the car. This time, she was more relaxed and engaged, though still very alert, with a tendency to pull one way or another. The last 100 yards or so were more of a struggle, as she could see our car. I honestly don't think I had her attention at all that whole time. We walked many times that distance in circles and backwards before we got into the car.
Which brings me to what happens after one of these apparently difficult sessions. That is, nothing much. She bounces back immediately, and seems ready for anything. When we got back, I felt that she and Pogo needed a chance for some free-play in the yard, if they would take it, after all the discipline of the walk. They both enjoyed themselves, even romping a bit, and Coco was all smiles and cuddles, kicking her front feet out at me and swinging her open mouth around in the air at me.
Her bounce-back, her endurance, her energy level, her playful joy and klutzy abandon, and something less concrete about her own sense of self all speak to me of a young dog. I'm really thinking she's more likely a 2 year old, with little experience of the world and who she is in it. As a friend of mine described her (the Chicken Lady), she seems to be exploring her own identity as much as her new environment and the world in general.
That's enough for today. She's sleeping with her head hanging off a dog bed on the studio floor near me. The boy-dogs are crashed nearby. As she groans and stretches, relaxing with a sigh, I'd bet she'd say life is pretty much okay right now.
I'm sorry for the lack of pictures for this post. Holidays and all that. The two I have seem obsolete to me now, but for the sake of history, I offer you these from a couple nights ago:
 |
| Brilly: "Oh, hi. You're finally in here, eh?" Coco: "Um. Is that okay? I'm barely moving. I'll be no fuss." |
 |
| Brilly: "Okay, whatever." Coco: "So, okay, so I'll think about THAT bed for a minute ..." |
Here, Brilly is relaxing completely, but Coco still hasn't decided it's alright to just come over onto the bed in front of her (and me). Pogo, as you can see from his foot, never even bothered a second glance.
This is old news now. Coco will take a bed, no matter who's where, or lie on the rug, or walk through sniffing for bits of carrot that might have been missed, stepping over heads, feet and cats like it's nothing.
I've finally seen the lightbulb go on for the word "GOOD", which often precedes a treat, and that it might have something to do with what she just did. It's not that she's stupid, she's just had her mind so full of safety measures that there was no room for such fripperies. If a treat appeared, she'd eat it: that was all she felt the need to understand. Now she's beginning to understand it might possibly be that she can make treats appear!
Outdoors is still a different story. In the yard, she's getting more relaxed, even participating in a few short romps with the boys. Very short, but hey! And, she will leave the gate to come to me when called, wiggling with anticipation of being rubbed all over. She explores a little bit before heading back to the gate. On walks, it's been interesting to see her reaction to the various settings. Yesterday, everyone seemed keyed up. As we drove up to a parking spot in the marine park in Blaine, there were two dogs with their people, and the boy-dogs both barked at them, setting a tone. When we got out, Coco couldn't take her eyes off of one of the dogs, gone well ahead of us, with his master. I couldn't tell if she wanted to go forward and investigate the dog, or run away from it. Or both, since she was pulling this way and that. When we finally lost that dog, we had made it to the non-park part of the walk, going out to the pier. Last time, she'd been unhappy with that stretch, and it was a lot of work (training: stop, turn, wait, face the opposite direction, step, stop, turn, back up, step, step, stop .... with praise for every step made before she puts pressure on the leash) to get to the end, then back to the car. This time, she was more relaxed and engaged, though still very alert, with a tendency to pull one way or another. The last 100 yards or so were more of a struggle, as she could see our car. I honestly don't think I had her attention at all that whole time. We walked many times that distance in circles and backwards before we got into the car.
Which brings me to what happens after one of these apparently difficult sessions. That is, nothing much. She bounces back immediately, and seems ready for anything. When we got back, I felt that she and Pogo needed a chance for some free-play in the yard, if they would take it, after all the discipline of the walk. They both enjoyed themselves, even romping a bit, and Coco was all smiles and cuddles, kicking her front feet out at me and swinging her open mouth around in the air at me.
Her bounce-back, her endurance, her energy level, her playful joy and klutzy abandon, and something less concrete about her own sense of self all speak to me of a young dog. I'm really thinking she's more likely a 2 year old, with little experience of the world and who she is in it. As a friend of mine described her (the Chicken Lady), she seems to be exploring her own identity as much as her new environment and the world in general.
That's enough for today. She's sleeping with her head hanging off a dog bed on the studio floor near me. The boy-dogs are crashed nearby. As she groans and stretches, relaxing with a sigh, I'd bet she'd say life is pretty much okay right now.
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