How not to train your dog

Summer, 2003

Why expose yourself to the elements when you can train your dog to run out the front door to retrieve your morning newspaper? I was halfway home from not having to run out in the rain anymore as I already had a 100 pound chocolate Labrador retriever. All I had to do is train him to fetch the paper. This should be a snap! 

The first morning of training, I held onto his collar, told him “fetch,” and walked him right outside to the paper, about 30 feet from the front door. (We had asked that it be delivered to the porch but in seven years, it hasn’t made it there once.) I picked up the paper, stuffed it in his mouth, said, “good dog!” and took him back into the house, where he was given a biscuit as a treat. He was starting to get interested. 

The next morning, I repeated the process and did the same again on the third day. By now he was showing great interest, especially in the biscuit part. Even though a veterinarian had told me chocolate Labs were the “blonds of the dog world,” I was optimistic that this could work. 

Come Day Four, I opened the door and said “fetch.” He bolted out the front door, all on his own, and headed in the opposite direction where he proceeded to poop on my front lawn. I fetched the paper myself and cleaned up the poop. This was not part of the plan. 

On Day Five, I let him out in the run for his morning constitution before I had him fetch the paper. While still in my PJs, I confidently took him to the front door, said the magic word and let him loose. He ran directly to the paper, picked it up and ran back between the houses into the unfenced backyard. I ran back through the house, to the side door by the run and into the back yard yelling “biscuit! biscuit!” He dropped the paper in the middle of the back yard and came running for his treat. There was no reward for this kind of behavior. I retrieved the paper myself from the middle of my back yard. I should have ate the biscuit.

The next day, I decided to tie a 30′ rope to his collar so that he could not escape again. He had previously chewed the rope in two, so a knot was in place to keep it the full length. I again let him go in the run first to avoid the pooping problem. I had him tied up and everything was in place for a successful retrieve. As it was early morning, I had my favorite old chenille robe on, my hair was doing the Phyllis Dillar thing, and I called my seven year old son down to watch what was surely going to be a proud moment. I opened the door, yelled ‘fetch’ and off he ran, causing the rope to burn through my hands so fast and painfully that I had to drop the rope, which landed on my right ankle, which immediately burned. Before I could jump aside, that darn knot caught under the front door slamming it shut, smacking my backside and propelling me in all my morning beauty out on the front porch in the middle of the neighborhood. The dog is now about four inches from the paper, lunging and stretching to reach but cannot go any further because of the knot under the door. I can’t push the door open to get back in the house with all this leaping and jumping toward the paper going on. I finally grabbed the rope and pulled him in, without the paper, and stumbled back into my foyer, where my son was still sitting on the steps. We looked at each other and he said, “Wow! That had to hurt!” 

It did. 

The next day, I can hardly believe I tried it again with nothing but hope and a biscuit. Somehow that crazy dog grabbed that paper and ran right back to me. It was a resounding hard fought success and he’s actually been doing it ever since. Sometimes I don’t even have to give him a biscuit! However, occasionally I have to wrestle the newspaper out of his mouth and pick up all the ripped off pieces of newspaper. But that’s another story.