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Today Jingle helped Riley through a meltdown at martial arts. Riley sat on the floor in the instructor’s office, stroking Jingle’s ear and her muzzle. Aside from helping Riley, she is a huge hit there, turning the most quiet of kids into chatterboxes. Once home, she posed for a photo shoot. She tormented the cats. She attempted to steal Seth’s peanut butter apple but only got so far as a lick. She chewed her bone. She got brushed. She also continues to be featured over at The Bark.  It’s a full life, but some dog’s gotta do it.

Poor Jingle. Seth is sick today and I had to talk with one of Riley’s teachers so I didn’t bring her when I walked Riley to school. Todd heard her crying, and thought it was just because we left without her. It took him a while to realize we’d locked her in the foyer when we were getting shoes and coats on. Not only did she not get to come, she got trapped in a tiny three foot box with an icy tile floor.

I’m hoping a little peanut butter in her Kong will jump start the forgivness process.

We hang a bag of recyclables on a door knob between the kitchen and the hall leading upstairs. It’s elegant, yes.

Jingle over the last few days had developed a phobia of the area. So I channeled Temple Grandin and put myself in Jingle’s place. What I discovered through my detective work is this:

When Jingle passes through the aforementioned area, her wagging tail thrashes the recycle bag, making a scary clatter. She is convinced there is a loud monster behind the door, waiting to get her. In fact, she’d taken to checking behind the door before proceeding very cautiously, and only if you had a treat in plain sight to motivate her. She was basically terrified to leave the kitchen.

So, we took the recyclables off the door knob, and I had her walk the dreaded two foot path one billion times last night, feeding her minuscule pieces of Puperoni. She is 99% over her fear.

Dr. Grandin, I hope I did you proud.

Jingle is so well behaved, it’s sometimes easy to forget how young she is. She had her first birthday just a couple of weeks ago. In this shot she looks like such a pup.

I may put her in a “down,” but I can’t make her look at the camera. Such a little baby. So easily distractible.

Though sometimes she does seem more like a teenager.

Alright, alright! We’ll finish our walk.

This is Jingle at martial arts. She curls up in a tight ball, making herself unobtrusive. She knows she’s in for a long (hopefully boring) hour or two. Might as well take a nap. This photo shows how her tail fans out, and how colorful she is.  Since she’s been coming with, Riley hasn’t had one meltdown or even a close call at martial arts. After Thanksgiving Riley will start learning a new form. That is usually stressful and Jingle will be there to help if needed. If not, there are always a few more zzzzzzzz’s to catch.

Jingle has a boyfriend. His name is Flip. He lives on our street, and he has a fenced in yard.

“How you doin’?”

Of course, Jingle plays hard to get.

I’m not even looking at you. I’m a service dog. You’re just a mutt from the pound. I’m checking out the fence. The fence is way more interesting than you. Wait! I think this smell is you! Wait! I was once just a mutt at the pound.

Okay I admit it, you had me at hello.

She’s a sucker for a salt & pepper beard.

It is important to practice obedience with Jingle every day. She is so smart and she really does try to push it to see what she can get away with. If we put her in a “down,” down it is. Whether it is five minutes or three hours. This may sound cruel, but if we plan on sending her to school with Riley it is very important. If she gets up, it is imperative we correct her and put her back in the exact same place she started. If we just put her in another “down,” say she walked ten feet away, then she’s ten feet closer to whatever it is she was aiming for, and she’ll keep doing it, breaking her “down,” getting closer and closer to that cat, or that bit of food, or whatever.

So, the picture above shows Jingle in a “down.” I am walking around her dropping treats on the floor and she is not allowed to go for them unless and until I say “free!” She just turned one year old, but look how patiently she waits.

“Jingle free!”

“Good dog!”