This One's For Elaine

A few weeks ago we mentioned to our dog trainer Elaine that in terms of smarts, we thought Libby was very pretty. Elaine politely disagreed, pointing out how advanced Libby is for her age. Not only does she have a laser-like focus and a mastery of all the basic commands, she's also quickly conquering more complex tasks like Swing, Stand, and Take, Hold, Give. Having never had properly trained dogs before, I'm not sure what I should consider impressive. So I told Elaine if Libby wanted to really wow me, she'd need to learn to read. I'll admit, observing Libby in her sessions is a bit like watching a young Michael Phelps slice through the water in his afterschool swimming lesson - there's potential for greatness in the show ring, and it's up to us to develop it. Libby trains for two hours a week and in those two hours under Elaine's expert instruction, she's a prodigy. The thing is, she's, um... less impressive for the hundred and sixty-six other hours in the week. I mean, when I see Libby running around with a toilet brush in her mouth, my first thoughts are not of her massive potential. We keep a close eye on her, knowing that we're responsible for making sure she understands her boundaries. Fletch and I are extraordinarily careful with what Libby can access and we learned long ago that any item within the dog's reach is fair game and that delicious Chanel slingbacks can't be eaten...