Crate Training Your Puppy

Written by Dy Witt

Crate Training for your Puppy

Teaching your puppy crate training isrepparttar first and best step in his life. It makes allrepparttar 148927 other steps in his training go so much smoother, much like a solid foundation makes for a superior wall.

Establishing you asrepparttar 148928 Alpha member of his “pack” is one very good reason for starting your puppy in a crate when he is very young.

Another reason for crate training is that dogs love predictability. To know what is going to happen in any given situation makes him happy, and more apt to berepparttar 148929 best-behaved dog he can possibly be.

A strong crate isrepparttar 148930 very basis of good puppy training. A wire crate with a lock isrepparttar 148931 best kind. Make sure it is large enough for him to stand up and turn around. But not so large that he can roam and wander around.

A too-large crate will inhibit house breaking. A crate that is justrepparttar 148932 right size will be perceived as his “nest”, where puppies never “go potty”. They will learn to hold it if you don’t make a prison out of it.

Never leave a puppy under 8 weeks longer than one hour in his crate. He will soil it, after struggling and suffering as long as he can.

Put a nice pad in there with a bone. Start with placing a tasty treat in there, he will go in and get it. Do this several times without closingrepparttar 148933 door, let him come in and out freely for an hour or so. Praise him highly each time he goes in, make it all very pleasant.

Then when his attention is on his treat, closerepparttar 148934 door. Praise him quietly, “What a good boy, it’s ok, such a good boy!” In 10 or 20 seconds, no longer, let him out without a word, no praise, just a pat.

Do this for increasingly longer intervals, but do not give him a chance to get upset. You can do this several timesrepparttar 148935 first day.

Make sure every training session ends on a happy note, this is crucial.

Once he seesrepparttar 148936 crate is his own private territory, he will go in there on his own, expecting treats and your attention. When he does, say, “Wanna crate?” with a happy face while getting his treats.

The Fugitive

Written by Janette Blackwell

Where arerepparttar dogs of yesteryear? They all seem to be some breed or another these days. They never used to be. Back inrepparttar 148926 forties, we had dogs that LEANED in one direction or another. Or maybe two or three directions at once. But we never went out and bought a specific brand of dog. Why would you buy a dog whenrepparttar 148927 neighbors were giving away perfectly good pups for free, along with a jar of peaches and maybe some string beans?

It has always been hard to earn a living farming, andrepparttar 148928 animals on our Montana farm all had to have a use. The cats earned their living by catchingrepparttar 148929 mice that aterepparttar 148930 grain. The dogs earned their living, Daddy told us kids, by bringing inrepparttar 148931 cows at milking time.

Our dogs tended not to be real good at bringing inrepparttar 148932 cows, but we kept them anyway. Maybe because Daddy had a soft heart -- which he did -- but mainly, I think, becauserepparttar 148933 dogs had a better understanding of what they were there for than we children did:

The dogs thought they were there to bark at every single car that went by.

Back when one or two cars came by in a day, we were glad to know that someone was coming down our hill, and, unless it was time forrepparttar 148934 mailman, we checked to see whose car it was.

The forties went by, thenrepparttar 148935 fifties, andrepparttar 148936 number of cars increased. We no longer checked to see who it was. Which was notrepparttar 148937 fault ofrepparttar 148938 dogs: they still barked at every single car.

Byrepparttar 148939 sixties, I had left home but came back for vacations. And during one summer vacation I found out why we really needed that dog.

“There’s someone hiding in our shack,” said Daddy. “Whatever you do, don’t go up there. Don’t even go near it.”

The shack, which probably was built as a homesteader’s shack, was atrepparttar 148940 top ofrepparttar 148941 hill by our house. It had one main room with a table and chairs, a cupboard with a few dishes, a wood stove, and a double bed. An outdoor toilet out back beckoned with open door.

Inrepparttar 148942 forties and fifties, Grandma cleanedrepparttar 148943 shack each June. She washedrepparttar 148944 dishes inrepparttar 148945 cupboard, washed allrepparttar 148946 patchwork quilts onrepparttar 148947 beds, and put fresh kerosene inrepparttar 148948 lamp. All to prepare forrepparttar 148949 workers who came to hoe our sugar beets, under a contract betweenrepparttar 148950 Mexican government andrepparttar 148951 sugar beet company. Under that contract a good worker could make fifty dollars a day: excellent wages inrepparttar 148952 forties and fifties.

Byrepparttar 148953 late sixties, Daddy no longer grew sugar beets, andrepparttar 148954 shack had for years lain empty. Then our neighbor Nina Davis telephoned. “Have you got someone in your shack acrossrepparttar 148955 road from us?” she asked. “Because we’re seeing a light in there at night.”

“No. No one’s supposed to be in there,” said Mamma. But neither our family norrepparttar 148956 Davises went torepparttar 148957 shack to investigate, nor did anyone suggest callingrepparttar 148958 sheriff. The Davises were also native Montanans who went byrepparttar 148959 same code of behavior we did. I’d learned about this code when I was little: one of our neighbors had a practice of stealing from other neighbors. “Why don’t we tellrepparttar 148960 sheriff?” I asked.

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