So, I needed to do some work with on Wednesday, but I needed to make sure that I did not push her beyond her ability to work. I had the truck. Amy didn't drive it to work. So, there was the perfect opportunity. Echo has visited Amy's workplace several times, and was pretty comfortable in that venue. We needed to hit the grocery store. Another great opportunity, especially with Amy there to help me.
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So, about 4:30, I started getting us ready to leave (Amy's workplace is about a 15 minute drive away).
Once again, I ran into the same difficulties as Monday and Tuesday with the vest. She ran when she saw it in my hand. Once it was on, she was perfectly fine.
She, still, does not want to get in the truck.
It's kind of weird. I'm not sure what the problem is, because, once she in the truck, she is fine. In fact, on the ride to Amy's workplace, she did more than just curl up and take a nap in the backseat. She sat up and looked out the back windows. She seemed to enjoy the ride.
I think the problem might be the truck, itself. Let me show you (it's not the best picture, but it's the first one I could find (it's from last winter)):
(Before I go any further, yes, I have a big truck with a grill guard (no gun rack, though). I'm from Texas. I, also, have two Stetson cowboy hats (that I don't wear, much), several firearms (I didn't say I have any ammunition for those firearms) and a pair of Justin "Roper" cowboy boots. I'm pretty sure that there is some kind of state law that says I have to have those things, or give up my ability to claim Texas as home.)
When I try to coax her to the truck, she "plants", and wants nothing to do with it. BUT, if I pick her up, and put her in the back seat, she is happy to be there. She treats that narrow bench seat much like she treats her spot in front of the couch. The spot, with the maroon pillow, featured in SO many pictures on this blog.
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So, we arrive at Amy's workplace. Once again, she does not want to get out of the truck, and I lift her out. She didn't back away from me. She came to me, when I opened the door. She, just, was not going to try to get out of the truck, herself.
Once in the parking lot, she wanted to explore. She wanted nothing to do with the buildings around the parking lot. She wanted to explore the parking lot. ... Until, she saw Amy through the glass doors of Amy's workplace. Then, the head went down to shoulder level, the ears laid back, and the tail did, what I have called, the "family wag". THEN, she was ready to go inside.
She gave Amy an appropriate greeting. Amy gathered her stuff, and we headed back out the door.
Once again, she wanted to explore the parking lot. She "planted" every time I tried to get her to the truck.
So, after getting Amy and her stuff in the truck, I picked up Echo, and put her in the backseat.
Just like before, once in the backseat, she was as happy as a clam. She reached, with her nose, over the console, and touched Amy. Then, listened to us talk for a bit, looked out the windows, and, then, did the "dog doughnut" in the backseat.
If you don't know what the "dog doughnut" is, Gimli is doing it in this photo:
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So, we arrived at Safeway. Once again, Echo did not want to get out of the truck, under her own power. I lifted her out. (There is a part of me that thinks she likes me picking her up, and carrying her, sometimes.)
Amy took her lead, and I got a shopping cart.
Echo and Amy followed me through the store.
There were times where I had to stop, and Amy and Echo moved on.
There were times where people asked Amy questions about Echo. So, she stopped, talked to them, and introduced Echo to them. (Amy did a good job of that.)
While doing the actual shopping, however, we ran into a problem.
Let me give you a bit of personal history, to put this in perspective: My Dad, for most of his life, was a retail store manager. From the time I was in 3rd grade to into my college years, he managed stores for Wal-Mart, back in the days before the "super-stores", like the one we have in Lacey. Dad was a FANATIC about the floors in his stores. They had to be be clean, waxed, and highly polished. ... My Dad would LOVE the floors in the Safeway we do most where we do most of our shopping.
That is where Echo ran into a problem.
She has this wonderful, soft coat, and, because she is a puppy, her paw pads have not gotten rough, the way on older dog's do. So, every time that Amy put her in a "sit" (and she does a REALLY pretty "sit"), her rear end would start sliding backwards ... and her front paws would start sliding forwards. The state of the floor was preventing her from sitting, and "my little girl" was doing her best to do as she was told. On one hand, I felt sorry for her, because she was trying SO HARD to be good. On the other hand, it was pretty funny to watch.
Finally, the shopping was over, and we headed to the checkout counter.
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To the best of my knowledge, this was Echo's first time to try to go through a checkstand.
Knowing this, I went for the shortest/quickest line possible. Well, between the "closeness" of the checkstands, her frustrations with trying to sit when commanded, the time in the store overall, and the number of people around her, she began to "hit the wall".
So, Amy took over checking out, and I took Echo.
I walked her to one door. (This was her third time in THIS Safeway.) She saw the automatic door in operation, and was having none of it.
So, I walked her across the front of the store, to the other door. Again, we were stopped by a person, this time, one of the managerial staff. The most amusing part of this encounter is that once I explained Echo (service dog in training, and breed), the person asked me if Echo was a "miniature". I told her that Echo was not a miniature, Echo was only 5 months old. At that point, the Safeway employee was blown away by how well behaved Echo was! (Another "proud Dad" moment.)
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After that, I moved Echo to the other doors.
Keep in mind, this was Echo's third visit to this store. To get to this point, she had gone through these kind of doors FIVE times. (In and out the first time, in and out the second time, and in the third time)
Once again, she was having none of it. She "planted" and was not going anywhere near the doors. So, I pulled out "the big guns": mozzarella cheese. For each piece of cheese, I could get her two steps closer to the door. Once at the door, she didn't care about the cheese anymore. She WAS NOT going out those doors.
Thankfully, Amy had passed us by this point.
While the doors were open, Amy stuck just her head around the edge of the door, looked her in the eye, and said: "Let's go home, little girl."
At that, Echo trotted out the door like there was no issue in the first place, giving Amy the "family wag".
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The rest is "more of the same". She didn't want to get in the truck, until I picked her up. She didn't want to get out, until I picked her up. She wanted to explore the driveway and front yard, until Amy opened the door and she heard Gimli. Once in the house, she was a happy dog ... that wanted to go "hurry" in the back yard.
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