“It’s just that the last time we tried, it was so stressful with Chloe so upset that we had to put her in the bedroom.”
“Where she destroyed your new duvet, among other things.”
“It was awful.”
“You can’t leave her to have an evening away without her having a tantrum, so you and your husband have stopped going out to dinner, to parties, to the theater. You said she bit your mother.”
“Yes, it was just a nip really. She—”
“Lissy, let me ask you something. I bet you’ve been on planes, or in the shops, a restaurant where a child’s been running wild, disturbing everyone, kicking the seat, arguing with his parents, creating a nuisance, whining, complaining and so on.”
“God, yes.” She rolled her eyes as she spoke. “It’s so annoying. I don’t understand why... Oh.” Cluing in, Lissy blew out a breath. “I’m not being a responsible mommy.”
“Exactly.” Or close enough. “Put her down.”
The minute Chloe’s pink booties hit the ground, she leaped onto her hind legs, yipping, scrabbling at Lissy’s lovely linen pants.
“Come on now, baby, don’t—”
“No,” Fiona said. “Don’t give her that kind of attention when she’s misbehaving. You need to dominate. Show her who’s in charge.”
“Stop that right now, Chloe, or no yummies on the way home.”
“Not like that. First, stop thinking, But she’s so little and cute. Stop thinking about her size and think of her as a misbehaving dog. Here.” Fiona took the leash.
“Step away,” she told Lissy, and positioned herself between them. Chloe yipped and snarled, attempted a quick lunge and nip.
“Stop!” Voice firm, Fiona kept eye contact and shot a finger toward the dog. Chloe made grumbling sounds, but subsided.
“She’s sulking,” Lissy said with indulgence.
“If she was a Lab or a German shepherd sitting there growling, would it be cute?”
Lissy cleared her throat. “No. You’re right.”
“Spoiling her isn’t making her happy. It’s making her a bully, and bullies aren’t happy.”
She began to walk the dog. Chloe struggled, trying to turn back to Lissy. Fiona simply shortened the leash, forcing Chloe to fall in line. “Once she understands there’s no reward, no affection shown for bad behavior, and that you’re in charge, she’ll stop. And be happier.”
“I don’t want her to be a bully or unhappy. Honestly, that’s why I’m here. I’m just terrible at discipline.”
“Then get better,” Fiona said flatly. “She depends on you. When she’s already excited and heading out of control, speak to her firmly, correct her quickly, don’t placate her in that high baby-talk voice. That only increases her level of stress. She wants you to take control, and you’ll all be happier once you do.”
For the next ten minutes, Fiona worked with the dog, correcting and rewarding.
“She listens to you.”
“Because she understands I’m in charge, and she respects that. Her behavior problems are a result of how she’s been treated by the people around her, how she’s come to believe she
“Spoiled.”
“It’s not the squeaky toys, the yummies, the outfits. Why not indulge yourselves there if it makes all of you happy? It goes back to allowing, even encouraging, unacceptable behavior and giving her the controls. She goes on the attack with big dogs, right?”
“All the time. And it was funny at first. You just had to laugh. Now it’s gotten a little scary every time we take her for a walk.”
“She does it because you’ve made her pack leader. She has to defend that position every time she comes in contact with another dog, human, animal. It stresses her out.”
“Is that why she goes on those barking jags? Because she’s stressed?”
“That, and because she’s telling you what to do. People think of Poms as yappy dogs because their owners often allow them to become yappy dogs.”
Not yapping now, Fiona thought as she stopped and Chloe sat and watched her with those almond-shaped eyes. “She’s relaxed now. I want you to do the same thing with her. Walk her back and forth. Stay in control.”
Fiona led Chloe to Lissy, and the dog rose up to paw the air, to scrabble at Lissy’s legs.
“Lissy,” Fiona said firmly.
“Okay. Chloe, stop.”
“Mean it!” Fiona ordered.
“Chloe, stop!”
Chloe sat, tipped her head from side to side as if evaluating.
“Now walk her. Insist that she heel. She’s not walking you.”
Fiona stepped back to watch. She was, she knew, training the human every bit as much as—possibly more than—the dog. Progress, and a satisfied client, would depend on the human’s willingness to adhere to the training at home.
“She’s listening!”
“You’re doing great.” And both of you are relaxed, Fiona thought. “I’m going to walk toward you. If she exhibits unacceptable behavior, I want you to correct. And don’t tense up. You’re walking your cute little dog. Your cute, polite, happy little dog.”
At Fiona’s approach, Chloe barked and pulled on the leash. Fiona wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Pom or master, when Lissy hissed out a no-nonsense
“Excellent. Again.”
She repeated, repeated until at her approach, Chloe simply continued to walk politely at Lissy’s heel.
“Well done. Syl, would you mind? Syl’s going to walk by now. Syl, stop and chat, okay?”
“Sure.” Sylvia strolled up, crossed paths. “Nice to see you.”
“Okay. Gosh.” Lissy stopped, blinking when the pretty little Pom did the same without snarling or yipping. “Look what she did.”
“Isn’t that great? What a pretty dog.” Sylvia bent over to stroke Chloe’s fluffy head. “What a well-behaved dog. Good girl, Chloe.”
“We’re going to add Newman in,” Fiona announced.
“Oh my God.”
“Lissy, don’t tense up. Stay relaxed. Newman won’t react to her until I allow it. You’re in charge. She depends on you. Correct firmly, quickly and as necessary.”
With Newman by her side, Fiona walked across Chloe’s eye line. The Pom went ballistic.
“Correct,” Fiona ordered. “Firmly, Lissy,” she added when her flustered client faltered. “No, don’t pick her up. Like this. Chloe, stop! Stop!” Fiona repeated, making eye contact, pointing sharply.
Chloe subsided with a few grumbles.
“Newman’s no threat. Obviously,” Fiona added as the Lab sat placidly. “You need to keep relaxed and remain in charge—and be firm when she’s exhibiting unsocial behavior.”
“He’s so much bigger. She’s scared.”
“Yes, she’s scared and she’s stressed—and so are you. You have to relax, let her relax. She’ll see there’s nothing to be afraid of.” At Fiona’s hand signal, Newman lay down, sighed a little.
“You said there was a park near you, and several people take their dogs there.”
“Yes. I stopped taking Chloe because she’d just get upset.”
“It’d be nice to be able to take her, so she could have playmates, make friends.”
“Nobody likes her,” Lissy whispered. “It hurts her feelings.”
“Nobody likes a bully, Lissy. But people, especially dog people, generally enjoy a well-behaved dog. And one as pretty and smart as Chloe could make a lot of friends. You’d like that for her?”
“I really would.”
“When’s the last time you took her to the park?”
