Training

Training
Many doxie owners will tell you they are fluent in a very special language: Doxienese.  The truth be told, the doxies also speak pretty good Humanese.  How did this happen?  Training.  It does not matter whether years of experience were shared with the new doxie in their life or if the owner participated in a formal training program with their precious charge.  That training formed the basis for the language that makes for a happy and peaceful home.  Here at DRBC, we all have our methods, but we train, train, train to keep the lines of communication open with our four legged kids.  And yes, they train, train, train us too!

 In This Section:




Death of An Untrained Dog

I woke up one morning with my littermates. I saw Mom lying there, so I went over to get some breakfast. Mom was warm and she licked me all over. She loved us so much...

Things were good back then.
Then I went to live in a home with two kids and their mom and dad. I used to be able to come in the house and play. They even let me sleep in the house. The children would run and I would chase them around. When I was little they would let me jump on them and even playfully bite them. The family would laugh and encourage me to play like that. They gave me lots of toys such as socks, shoes and stuffed animals. I had so much fun...

Those were the days.
As I got bigger, I would accidentally knock the children down. I would try to bite them on the cuff of their pants as they ran. I found toys like the ones my master gave me when I was younger, and I would chew them up. They started getting mad at me all the time. When I jumped up they would knee me down.  One minute they were laughing at me for play biting and chewing and the next minute they would spank me for doing the very same thing...

I was so confused.
Now I spend my days, hour after hour, chained in the back yard. No one comes out to play with me. I am so happy to see them when they come out that I jump and bark with joy. I spend my days digging up the yard around me which makes my masters mad at me. The fleas crawl all over me...

Which drives me crazy
The more I sit out here the madder I get. I cannot understand why they brought me home just to chain me in the yard. If my masters are unhappy with my behavior...

Why not train me?
Why did they encourage me to jump and bite? Things have not gotten any better for me. Now I sit in jail. People come by my cage looking at me. I bark at them but no one wants me. Oh, no! Here comes a lady with a leash. Where is she taking me? She walks me into a room. Oh, she likes me. It's so good to be hugged again. What's this? She is sticking my leg. Oh, I am so sleepy. What has happened to me? I am asleep now...

NO ONE CAN HURT ME ANYMORE.