Ready, Set... Patience.

Dogs do not come ready-trained whether from a breeder or from a shelter. I've been lucky in that most of the dogs who have stayed here have had some basic knowledge of the human world and adapt rather well to it. Even Cash, who slid across the kitchen table did so only once, as he was eager to please and wanted very much to be a model canine citizen within the human setting.

Gretchen, on the other hand, doesn't seem quite so inclined to learn the necessary manners needed to interact peacefully with others. I was told she was very sweet and a total lovebug. I didn't think to ask about her manners, as I figured someone who was sweet was pretty eager to please and would be able to learn quickly. But apparently when a person tells you a dog is "really sweet," it's like someone telling you that your blind date "has a good personality." Clearly, they're leaving out some pertinent information.

The universe will continually retest you on the lessons you need to learn until you finally learn them. In an ironic twist, I've grown quite impatient with the universe's desire to teach me patience.

I am not a dog trainer. I've been lucky that dogs do as I request because on some level, maybe they don't want to disappoint me or perhaps they're being polite. Gretchen is a sweetie, but I am losing patience on each walk we take as she doesn't give a crap what I think and doesn't know what being polite means.

It's not so much my hands that are raw from leash-burn that causes my tension to rise. It's because first off, she could get herself killed. Her complete obliviousness to me four feet away from her and attached by a nylon umbilical cord is nerve-racking in general, but when she juts out into on coming traffic to get closer to the dog across the street, it's downright dangerous.

Secondly, pit bulls have a bad rap, not just because they're used for fighting, but because people don't train them. They think they come ready-made with all the knowledge and ability to be polite, kind, and decent in public. But it takes time and energy to train them. And once trained, please bring them into the public! Let people see what good dogs these canines can be. But when they're like Gretchen, untrained, balking on the leash with all seventy pounds of her being about to lurch me into the street, people fear her. It's quite clear I have no control of her, and so the passerby's are fearful--and they should be. I don't think Gretchen is going to maul anyone; but she will take off from me to play with someone's dog, and never return.

Gretchen and I both have some learning to do, and we'll only be together till the end of the week. Gretchen needs to learn to walk on a leash. She's actually quite good in all other respects: sitting before eating, taking treats gently, not barking, holding her bladder (so it seems). And I need to learn patience (yes, universe, I know I do... now would you quit testing me?).

There is one thing that seems to be an innate policy for all my canine guests, Gretchen included. None of them want to dirty that nice clean blanket with pawprints on it that is on the bed.

'Cause that would be downright disrespectful.