Pavlovian Frontcountry Experiences

This week, I am watching the dog of a colleague. His name is Otter. He is a very large lab, standing at about my hip height. He could probably pull my car if given a harness and a towrope. He loves to lick, loves to cuddle at my feet, and always knows in which of my pockets his treats are. Otter loves the snow, the dirt, and the outdoors in general.

And get this:

I have never in my life seen a dog – given the option of tearing a diagonal across a field, or taking the L-shaped sidewalk – choose the sidewalk to come back to me when I call. He always takes the sidewalk, and it baffles my mind. (That is, until we get to the big open field… then all bets are off.)

Better yet, when he goes to the bathroom outside, he will stand there until I come to pick it up. No wandering around looking for it, no covering it up with dirt. He is there until it is gone.  Not having a dog myself, and growing up in an area where "scooping poop" was not practice, this is a shift in consciousness for me.  To boot, dog doo protocol has recently been brought up in our neighborhood as an issue - and now I am seeing why.

Though he is just a guest with me for a week, he is setting a shining example for the other dogs in my neighborhood… And their owners, too.  Despite the normal Pavlovian research, I am wondering who is being conditioned here.  I think, in fact, that I am the one being conditioned in to the Frontcountry particularities of dog ownership.

Thanks, Otter. Or should I say, Mr. Big Frontcountry Dog.