Smokey and Discipline

My dog, Smokey, apparently is very much lacking in the discipline department. We've sort of kept him on a long leash (hah) in that department in much the same way you would excuse someone with Tourette Syndrome. It's not the dog's fault. Our excuse for him has always been that he's a little daft.

But this is where it ends. This summer. I want to walk the dog, partially for his benefit, and partially for my own. I've been meaning to bring a water gun on these walks, to give him a squirt when he gets too rowdy, but I don't have one available at the moment. Which is why I ended up giving up after ten minutes.

The funny thing was that after giving up, while sauntering back to the house, Smokey was a hundred times better behaved. When he came to the end of his leash he stopped, instead of trying to pull me along, choking himself in the process. I decided to see if he'd roll with it, and we walked right past the house. As soon as we passed the outermost inch of our front lawn, however, he was at it again, so I called it quits and went inside.

Here's the thing. He doesn't seem to realize that he just ruined what could have been a great walk. We got into the house, and you wouldn't know if I had brought the dog to the Moon and back. In his doggish way, he jumped around and looked at me in his "that was a FANTASTIC walk!" way, even though we had passed perhaps twenty houses total.

As soon as I manage to reign him in a bit ... I might even be able to enjoy the walks.