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In need of discipline - dog and master

By PHILIP GAILEY
Published March 26, 2006

It's too early to know if we have the makings of a bestselling book titled "Bailey and Me." But it's clear we do have a challenge on our hands. You might say Bailey is undisciplined, but some who know me might ask when I have ever had a dog that wasn't. Okay, I admit it - I am a lousy disciplinarian when it comes to dogs and children.

Unlike Marley the Terrible, the late lab whose story has claimed the top spot on the New York Times bestseller list and made his master a millionaire, Bailey is neither terrible nor incorrigible. He is a sweet, 8-month-old golden retriever who has more energy and curiosity than his old man, who turned 62 recently. I'm sure any behavioral problems Bailey has can be corrected by obedience training and the little cut the vet has recommended.

Two years ago we said our goodbyes to Barley, our first golden, as the vet gently eased his spirit out of his broken-down body. You could not have had a better dog. He did nothing wrong. He was a love sponge. I still miss him terribly. Our friends kept saying we had to get another dog, but we said probably not at this stage of our lives. Anyway, we have never gone looking for a dog. The dog always seems to find us. And that's what Bailey did.

A friend who loves all God's critters called to ask if we would consider opening our home and our hearts to a young golden whose owner was unable to give him the time and attention he so desperately needed. The man worked long days, which meant that Bailey was spending most of his time, day and night, in a cage (excuse me, I mean kennel). Of course we are suckers for a story like that, so we rescued Bailey. We were told he came from a breeder in South Dakota, and that immediately raised a flag. Sure enough, he has a hip problem, not that it matters to us. I would never buy a dog from a breeder, especially one in a distant state, but once Bailey was in the world, he deserved a good home. And that's what we intend to give him.

After two years without a dog in the house, we were getting used to not having to organize our life around a pet, and I must say I wasn't keen on changing that. We could plan an out-of-town trip without having to worry about who would take care of the dog. During hurricane season, we didn't have the added stress of finding a hotel that accepted pets in case we had to evacuate. We took walks at our pace and on our schedule - and without having to carry a pooper scooper.

Bailey, of course, has changed all that. I'm trying to learn how to read my morning newspaper and at the same time play a tug-of-war game with Bailey, who tugs his end of a rope so hard I sometimes think my arm is coming out of its socket. When I get home in the evening, it's more of the same. I keep saying I'm too old for this, but Bailey pays no attention. Neither does anyone else.

On our walks, he does okay until he sees another dog or person. Then he strains on the leash as he tries to drag me toward them. He doesn't know a stranger. He insists on greeting any and every person who comes within sight. And, of course, he expects them to make a fuss and scratch his ears, or better still, his belly. I sometimes envy the woman I often see walking three dogs on a leash. It appears she has an easier time with three than I do with one.

I am open to any advice or recommendations for training programs. Bailey is going to be with us a long time, God willing, and we will all be happier if he learns how to follow commands and behave around people. But as I said, I'm part of the problem, too. Maybe I should consider applying to a school for undisciplined pet owners.

The one thing I won't do no matter what is take Bailey to a dog shrink. I am embarrassed to say that I did that once, with our first dog, a springer spaniel named Prince Valiant Victor, son of El Charo and Lady Dawn Dickens. The dog shrink spent most of the hour-long session questioning me while Prince slept curled up at my feet. Clearly, the shrink thought I was the problem, even though I kept telling him it was Prince, not I, who felt the need to put his scent on all of our house plants. The shrink prescribed neutering. What a relief when he assured me he was talking about the dog.

Philip Gailey's e-mail address is gailey@sptimes.com

[Last modified March 25, 2006, 03:15:07]