When my sister brought Moochi home from the shelter twelve years ago, the cat hid under the bed for three days. She was not aggressive. She was not destructive. She simply vanished into the smallest, darkest space she could find and refused to come out. My sister left food and water nearby, changed the litter … Read more
I used to think professional dog trainers were for people who had failed. If you loved your dog enough, if you read enough books, if you watched enough YouTube videos, you could figure it out yourself. That was my approach for the first three years with Cooper. I bought three training books, subscribed to four … Read more
My shoulder still twinges when I think about it. Cooper was two years old, sixty pounds of muscle and enthusiasm, and he had just spotted a squirrel across the street. I was holding the leash with one hand, coffee in the other, completely unprepared. He lunged. The coffee went flying. My shoulder made a sound … Read more
I was skeptical about the clicker. It seemed like one of those training gimmicks that dog trainers push because it makes them look scientific. A small plastic box that makes a clicking noise? I could just say “good boy” and give Cooper a treat. Why complicate it? But Cooper was struggling with leash manners, and … Read more
Cooper did not bark at the doorbell when I first got him. He was too overwhelmed by everything else — the new house, the new smells, the new human who kept trying to pet him. For the first few months, when someone rang the bell, he would freeze, lower his head, and back toward the … Read more
Early in pet ownership, I expected immediate obedience. I thought behaviour was “taught once” and forevermore. However, reality quickly proved otherwise. After weeks of uneven answers from my cat, I realised something simple yet powerful: behaviour is a daily experience reinforced repeatedly. The realisation changed everything for me. Instead of correcting, I reinforced a few … Read more
My sister’s cat, Mochi, destroyed a $2,400 leather sofa in fourteen months. Not gradually. Not with warning. With the focused intensity of a creature that understood exactly what she was doing and simply didn’t care. The sofa was oatmeal-colored, mid-century modern, purchased after my sister’s divorce as a symbol of new beginnings. Mochi started on … Read more
Cooper used to steal socks. Not chew them, not destroy them, just carry them around like trophies. I’d find them in his bed, under the coffee table, once in the backyard. It was funny for about a week. Then I realized I was running out of matching pairs and my laundry routine had become a … Read more