I'm with Stupid

First and foremost, please let's get it straight that I'm not referring to Patrick.

No, I'm actually referring to the mutt that I have been assigned to walk every day.

We have two mutts right now but one of them has to be the most stubborn, hard-headed, focus-challenged dog I've ever owned.

For those of you who know my dogs, I'm talking about Toby Joe.

For those that don't, please know he is a sweetheart. Don't let me give you the wrong idea about the dog, but thank God he has that saving grace because otherwise he and I would be having much stronger issues.

I do want to set up this scenario properly. We have always had a fenced yard. From the moment we brought Toby home in October of 2008, he has only had to "go" on a leash for about the first 2 weeks when we still had the camper down the shore. Otherwise, we had merely to open the back door and let him outside into our fenced mountainside, where he seemed to know just what to do. Even our pet-sitter in Vernon was impressed how easily he learned from our older dogs to go outside, do his business and come right back in.

The Westview house had a nice flat, fenced backyard that the dogs loved and once again, in and out, no problems. Valley View was only a 30 by 6 foot fenced run, but he was quick and disciplined. Out and back in within 3 minutes.

So why would we think we'd have a problem with him when we had to put a leash on him? After all, we've had him for just shy of 3 years, and he has been very good about going about his business then coming right back in when we've let him out.

But I should have known there was going to be a problem when after riding 4 or 5 hours in the truck on the way down here, Patrick couldn't convince Toby to follow Diesel's lead and mark the trees when we stopped for a break. It took a good 12 to 13 hours before he'd relieve himself, usually where we had stopped to overnight.

The second clue I should have had was that he's part Beagle, which makes his first interest "prey". We couldn't have a bird, squirrel or rabbit in the yard without his shrieking yelp announcing the invasion from his view inside the house. It didn't matter the time of day or night, he'd let us know there was a "visitor" outside and made sure the rest of the neighborhood knew it, too.

So is it really any wonder I find myself so flabbergasted with getting this dog to focus on relieving himself as we walk through the resort?

To my husband's credit and at his insistence, we were taking them down to the dog park twice a day, where, after running 10 laps around the huge fenced in area, Toby would promptly do number one and number two on each visit. However, we moved across the resort from the dog area, to where the walk in the heat is too much for me with my asthma; and on top of it, they were having diarrhea while using it, which made me nervous about worms. So much did the worm issue bother me that I'd have both Patrick and I studying the poo very closely before picking it up. I still wonder how that looked to the folks who had sites around the dog park and were watching these two transplants squatting on the ground, staring at excrement in the 90 degree heat. Idiots with a poo fascination, I guess. (I still look, but we walk them where there aren't any sites now, so I feel a bit more casual about examining the poo for parasites.)

But at any rate, last week, when we moved over here, he didn't go for 24 hours at a time as he was strapped to a leash and unsure of how to act. Diesel didn't seem to have much issue at all, and once I started carrying treats with us to try to help with training, Diesel has since learned to pee on every tree he comes across, then he stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to reward his leg-lifting endeavors. Toby, on the other hand, who is usually my food-obsessed pooch, couldn't care less about the treats.

Instead, he's completely, wholeheartedly, decisively focused on every squirrel, duck and bird that happens to be in the field behind the pond. He chirps at the door in the morning and early evening, seeming to want to be let out to lighten his load; but instead, all he cares about are the animals around us. As he pulls me violently across the green grass to the treed area where we take them, you would think his urgency had to do with internal pressure. Instead, he gets to where we're going and then acts as any good hunting dog would. He stands there. Rock solid. Feet planted. Muscles taut. Eyes glued to each and every movement happening around us. And no amount of my pleading, encouragement or demanding can take his focus off the animals he is stalking.

I can't convince him with food. I can't bully him with commands. I can't even lure him with the smell of Diesel's markings. No. There is nothing that can interfere with his unwavering dedication to hunting the critters around us.

So today I started chiding him about his intelligence. Patrick even suggested I get a shirt that reads, "I'm with Stupid". And it was all fun and jokes until my husband then says, "Here, if I take him and he goes, will you pick it up?" Okay, uh, sure.

Patrick puffs out his chest, pulls back his shoulders, hands me the leash of the big dog and then grabs Toby's leash out of my hands. As I stand there with Diesel, I watch as my husband trugs along with the 35-lb Beagle dragging along behind him, like a stilted, cardboard cutout. Nothing he tried worked either. Then as if to solidify our incompetence as Beagle trainers, a squirrel ran up the tree in front of us and sat right over us on the towering branches, with Toby's eyes glued to it like his life depended on it.

As we stared up into the tree at the gray rodent that seemed to be mocking us and our difficult dog, we realized we needed a new strategy. Although he's extremely easy to train when it comes to tricks, he's absolutely horrible on the leash. His focus is completely off us, especially when we come across another animal, whether it be a woodland creature or another dog, and his screeching and screaming at their presence is hugely annoying, to say the least.

So the first thing we did when we arrived back at the RV was look up training collars. We're ratcheting up our efforts a bit and we're taking things to a new level. Somehow we need to break the bad habits and then, when he's ready to accept the positive rewards (treats), begin again with the leash training.

It worked with Spark. It worked with Jaz. It works every day with Diesel...with him, you just snap that collar on him and with a beep, he's a different dog. So how will Toby react?

I'm not sure any dog can beat Diesel's reaction the first time he was buzzed (if you've got some time, remind me to tell that story!) I still almost pee myself with laughter when I remember his first time and as much as I don't want to come off callous and mean, it's quite impressive how the training collars get their attention.

I just don't know what else to do with Toby and we're pretty much out of options. If he won't go, he can physically hurt himself and possibly need a vet visit. On top of that, I best not come back to the RV to find he's gone inside.

So until I can get him a collar and a remote, we're going to use Diesel's to begin to train him. We'll see how long it takes until we get his attention and his focus is back on the pack alphas and their commands again.

And I hope it works quickly...For Patrick's sake, I'd hate to have to order that t-shirt.