The word “balanced” has a good connotation. It gives us a sense of stability, order and harmony.

There is a lot that has been said about the mantra, “Three days, three weeks, three months.” which refers to the idea that when adopting a dog, one should be aware of the adjustment period that the dog needs to settle in to their new home. And because some folks have taken this literally, many well known canine professionals are sounding the alarm, especially with so many dogs being returned to shelters, disposed of on the streets or even euthanized!

When I started dating 16 year old Tom in high school, I was 15, and looking back at my adolescence behavior, I was lacking in an identity. So when Tom lit up a cigarette, he asked me if I were a smoker, and of course, wanting to impress him, I casually mentioned that I was a very experienced smoker, (like that would be something to boast). 

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. I love the food, the family gatherings and most of all the memories.

Back in the day when I started running marathons at the tender age of 44, I sustained a few injuries, the likes of which I had never had. But that makes sense since I spent the first part of my life as a couch potato, so no injuries unless you count the time I got my foot stuck in the Lazy Boy recliner.

Rumor: “To make (as a piece of information) the subject of common talk without any authority or confirmation of accuracy.”

Gravity pulls and things fall.  Yes, a Mr. Obvious statement, for sure, and yet from where I’m sitting, this isn’t something everyone thinks about.

Of course you want to know what this has to do with dog training, so I will digress…

When you love someone, you tend to overlook their quirks or other unbecoming behavior. Believe me, I’ve lived through many family inquisitions with them wondering how I could not see the flaws of what I considered my then perfect boyfriend (s).

“Don’t worry, He’s friendly!” 

Oh how I recoil every time someone cheerfully wants me to know about their dog, with absolutely no consideration for my two creatures just chomping at the bit, poised to create an ugly scene.

Unless you’ve been in coma for the last 6 months, things have changed a lot in our political arena, and as I wrote in November’s  “Too Woke” blog, our current state of the dog training industry mirrors our parlous politics.

What would you do if you won the lottery? Inherited a fortune or acquired  a ton of money that didn’t involve robbing a bank?

When I look back on some of the weirdest times in my childhood, I’m flabbergasted how poorly the adults acted.

I can still remember my kindergarten experiences, and the many skills I learned that prepared me for the next level of education. I learned public speaking during show-and-tell where I showed and told about my 3 year old sister who I brought to school.

There’s something so invigorating when we declare a new goal, and what better time than a new year when we leave the past year behind us, looking forward to new stuff that we think will be way different this year than last.

For anyone who has lost a beloved pet, it is devastating. The feelings we have for them are immeasurable. We form tight bonds just like we do with other humans, making pets irreplaceable.  Some feel that we only get one pet to cherish in a lifetime, which is why not everyone is easily persuaded to close that heart-wound by adopting a new pet. My experiences has taught me that you  get as many treasured pets as your heart can hold.

In the few weeks since the November 5th election, I’ve been thinking a lot about who we are as a society, especially since we are so painfully divided, and it was not lost on me how much the dog training industry is a microcosm of that society.

When we hear the term “Freeloader”, it conjures  up images of someone who wants something for nothing. The Popeye cartoon character, Wimpy, was a freeloader, always asking for a hamburger that he promised to pay for on Tuesday, which he never did.

Back in the day, as in way, way, back, TV and comic book heroes usually wore masks to disguise themselves. As the Lone Ranger road off into the sunset on his trusty steed, someone always asked, “Who was that masked man?” And then there was Superman who didn’t need a mask because his eye glasses were a total face changer!

My heart still bleeding from the painful loss of my Bully mix, Fanny a few months ago,  I decided that the remedy was to take in a foster dog to help heal; that is a story for another time, so as always, I will digress…

I was raised by a mom who was a bit of a worry wort; actually she seemed like a certifiable lunatic, if I’m being honest. She saw danger at every turn and when you’re only 5 years old, it changes your perception of what should have been an idyllic Disney-movie life and instead turned it into a horror show always looking for monsters hiding in the closet.