An Education (circa 1980)
Few people would disagree with the belief that there is enrichment gained in obtaining an education. To attain a degree is considered an accomplishment. Thus it was with pride and hope Claire and I enrolled our young Golden Retriever in Obedience School.
At first our aspirations for Jurgen were modest- a ten week class for puppies. Shortly, we had a neatly framed certificate of graduation, complete with official paw prints hanging on a prominent wall. My appetite for higher learning was whetted.
The next rung of the obedience ladder was a course in the basic exercises of heeling, both on and off leash; the figure eight; long sits and downs and the recall. After mastering these tasks a dog could obtain a C.D. (Companion Dog) certificate if he scored enough points in three obedience trials. Although duly cautioned by Claire, in my mind Jurgen and I were ready to heel our way far down the postgraduate path. I imagined a vast collection of trophies and Jurgen’s and my photograph in the School’s Hall of Fame. There had to be some obedience degree comparable to a Ph.D. For want of knowledge I called it the Philosopher of Doggerel and explained to Claire how nice it would look in a black walnut frame. “It’s funny,” she replied, “how some people here think they can somehow improve their own human pedigrees if their dogs do well.”
Like many students pursuing an education, Jurgen was employed. In fact, he held down two jobs. His first metier was that of a full time watchdog. He moonlights by fetching the paper in the morning. Unfortunately, I had to go out with him and hand the paper to him from the mailbox. An untutored male dog will, without fail, collect all grounded papers. Jurgen then heads directly for the refrigerator and sits before it until he is paid his wage of a tidbit. Only then will he relinquish his moist grasp of the paper. In spite of his harsh hours, Jurgen found time to work diligently with me every evening on the obedience exercises. Homework is an essential element of education. We had to pass a test to graduate on the last night of class.
There was a tense excitement on graduation night. Ruffio, one of Jurgen’s siblings, was also in the class. Jurgen performed brilliantly the the heeling and figure eight. He sat patiently as the dog next to him leaned over and began to sniff his tail during the long down. He didn’t break on the long sit when the alluring Doberman pranced under his nose and across the arena followed by several males (in turn followed by their masters). She was beginning to go into heat. He was flawless going into the last exercise, the recall. I knew we had to be ahead of the pack of about twenty five contestants on points, even though brother Ruffio couldn’t be far behind.
When our turn came, I took Jurgen to the end of the run, sat him and returned to my place. I faced him and then on cue from the judge, called him. He didn’t budge. The judge told me to call him again. He didn’t budge. On the third and final attempt, same thing. He sat calmly, nose up in the air, smirking at me from the other end of the arena. We had done this exercise a hundred thousand times and this would be the one time he chose not to obey. He sat fixed and firm as the Rock of Gibraltar. We flunked. Handing Jurgen’s leash to Claire, I hastened to the restroom (labeled Pointers for the gentlemen and Setters for the ladies) and splashed cold water on my burning red face. We had flunked!!! I went outside for a long walk.
When I returned, the testing and graduation ceremony were over. People were beginning to filter out, most proudly clutching graduation certificates. Claire was sitting at the far end of the building with Jurgen. As I approached she took him the length of the recall and returned to the marked place, hesitated a second and then called him. Immediately he trotted forward and sat before her. A perfect recall!
“That was the first time I ever tried it, but I knew he could do it if he wanted.” She smiled, a bit too smugly, as the two of them headed for the door.
Ruffio and his owner went out the door just before them. His master was carrying the first place trophy. Jurgen was grinning and happily wagging his tail as he exited, none the worse for flunking the course and embarrassing me in front of a hundred people. I sat dejectedly. A lady came up to me. She spoke in a thick Southern accent.
“That yore Retriever jest went by?”
“In a manner of speaking,” I replied.
“Wal, I jest want ta tell ya, Ah think he’s jest the hansumest thang on foah paws.”
“Lady,” I answered glumly, “he’s the ultimate on faux pas.”
Slowly, I got up to follow Claire and Jurgen. I had learned my lesson. Class was dismissed. Besides, if Jurgen had passed and gone on to his Ph.D. and bigger things, he would be over-educated and over qualified for his jobs. I would have to fetch the paper myself.