This morning I’m juggling Frisbees and the last bit of my motivation to get the dogs moving. Deuce and Rio are buzzing with excitement—or so I think. I lob the first Frisbee for Deuce, and he just stares at me, like, “Really? What do you want me to do with this?” Yesterday he was a blur chasing every disc I threw. Today? A statue.
I call Rio over, expecting some enthusiasm. Instead, she gives me the cold shoulder and sniffs the air like she’s the queen of this backyard, amused by some scent only she can detect. Fine, game on—I run away from her, arms flailing, almost out of breath, shouting, “Come catch me, it’s super fun!” She snubs me. Yep, snubs.
Frustration rising, I try Plan A. Nope. Plan B? Also a mystery. I call the dogs one at a time, waving my arms like a maniac, promising fun and glory. NOTHING. I tell them to leave the “field of play” for a bit. Surprisingly, they oblige, giving me that “What’s gotten into you?” look.
I try throwing again, nailing a few. But thanks to Rio’s obsession with chewing the Frisbees, my throws are now completely unpredictable. New expensive discs? Wasted money. I sulk.
Eventually, I give up my solo party and gather the mauled Frisbees. Passing the dogs, they’re lounging in the shade, suspiciously calm, as if asking, “What just happened?” I tell them playtime is over. They look at me like I’ve gone mad. I ignore them. Dogless, finally, and oddly satisfied.
The rest of the afternoon, I sit with my thoughts. Why this obsession with Frisbee? Why do I push them—or myself—so hard? I realize I’m treating them like robots instead of sentient beings. Training should be fun, free from intimidation. And sure, my frustration peeked through, but no yelling, no punishment. Just a rare stint of being ignored.
I remind myself:
- Dogs are not tools—they’re partners in the adventure.
- Learning should be stress-free and tailored to the learner.
- Training must be enjoyable, or it’s not worth it.
- Punishment only reinforces the punisher; I refuse that cycle.
I love the challenge of figuring out the “why” behind a dog’s choice. Figuring out motivation is like detective work—but far more rewarding when it works.
By the next session, Plan B was ready. Fair, fun, and thoughtful. And for the first time, I think the dogs might have been enjoying themselves as much as I was—or at least, I hope they were.