So, remember when I mentioned my daughter moved back to town with her boyfriend and his 7-year-old pit, Cha Cha? She’s a really sweet dog—but completely untrained and a major puller on the leash. We tried a meet-and-greet with Freyja, and it didn’t go well. Cha Cha got protective of my daughter, lunged, and before we knew it… the fight was on. Can’t blame Cha cha, she came from a bad place and now she is living the high life like she has never before with my daughter.
Now it looks like Kelsie may apply to nurse anesthetist school. If she gets in, she’ll likely move back home since the program is so demanding you can’t really work during it. That makes things a bit more complicated if the dogs can’t coexist.
Her boyfriend is a genuinely good kid—honestly, he’s been pretty embarrassed about Cha Cha’s lack of training. I get it. I’d feel the same way trying to impress my girlfriend’s dad who has a well-trained Doberman.
So we decided to start working on things at my place. The idea is that if Cha Cha is going to be around here regularly, she needs to be under control. He’s been putting in the effort too—asking questions, reading, watching videos. I gave him one of my older prong collars, and he’s been coming over twice a week to train with her. I would give him some tips and have him mirror me with Freyja.
And I’ve got to say… what a difference that’s made. Cha Cha doesn’t pull anymore. She heels, sits on command, and actually pays attention to him instead of everything else going on around her. In short—he walks her now. She’s not walking him.
While he was working with Cha Cha, I spent some time with Freyja. He was impressed with her, but I wasn’t. She felt loose, unfocused—almost a little lost. Truth is, I’ve gotten lax with her training. I let her settle into being more of a house dog.
There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s a shift. Back when I had Ragnar, both dogs were dialed in—tight obedience, consistent commands, daily reinforcement. Ragnar needed that structure every single day. Freyja, on the other hand, has always been naturally respectful and well-mannered, so I didn’t feel the same urgency to keep pushing her.
But seeing it now, I realize I let some of that sharpness slip.
(To be continued)
Now it looks like Kelsie may apply to nurse anesthetist school. If she gets in, she’ll likely move back home since the program is so demanding you can’t really work during it. That makes things a bit more complicated if the dogs can’t coexist.
Her boyfriend is a genuinely good kid—honestly, he’s been pretty embarrassed about Cha Cha’s lack of training. I get it. I’d feel the same way trying to impress my girlfriend’s dad who has a well-trained Doberman.
So we decided to start working on things at my place. The idea is that if Cha Cha is going to be around here regularly, she needs to be under control. He’s been putting in the effort too—asking questions, reading, watching videos. I gave him one of my older prong collars, and he’s been coming over twice a week to train with her. I would give him some tips and have him mirror me with Freyja.
And I’ve got to say… what a difference that’s made. Cha Cha doesn’t pull anymore. She heels, sits on command, and actually pays attention to him instead of everything else going on around her. In short—he walks her now. She’s not walking him.
While he was working with Cha Cha, I spent some time with Freyja. He was impressed with her, but I wasn’t. She felt loose, unfocused—almost a little lost. Truth is, I’ve gotten lax with her training. I let her settle into being more of a house dog.
There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s a shift. Back when I had Ragnar, both dogs were dialed in—tight obedience, consistent commands, daily reinforcement. Ragnar needed that structure every single day. Freyja, on the other hand, has always been naturally respectful and well-mannered, so I didn’t feel the same urgency to keep pushing her.
But seeing it now, I realize I let some of that sharpness slip.
(To be continued)
