My Journey into the World of Dog Training
Before I could speak, I felt a deep connection to dogs. My adoptive parents told me as a toddler I was totally riveted to TV’s “Lassie” when the show was on, and I cried uncontrollably for an hour when it ended each week. They knew I loved it and wanted me to see it but felt helpless to sooth me when the black and white screen went dark.
As I grew, my favorite books and television shows were those involving horses and dogs. I especially remember The Black Stallion, My Friend Flicka, Black Beauty and Misty of Chincoteague capturing my heart and imagination. The stories of lost, abandoned animals, found and redeemed, pulled at my heartstrings, and stirred something in the core of my being.
I desperately wanted a dog of my own, so in second grade my mother took me to the local animal shelter to get one. There was a beautiful Collie there and I so wanted that dog, but my mother said it was best for me to get a puppy. We chose a quiet Lab mix sitting at the back of the pen. I named her “Lassie.”
The black girl became a wonderful dog that shared our lives throughout my childhood and teenage years. She loved to swim and it was a joy to see her swimming off the rocks each summer at Lake Erie. Though I loved our “Black Lass,” she was really my father’s dog. I craved a dog with whom I could create my own deep relationship. Because of growing up with TV’s Lassie, the wonder dog, who knew Timmy’s innermost thoughts and performed great feats to save him from danger each week, I thought that a Collie would fulfill my dream. When I hit my teenage years, I got a collie puppy I called my Misty Shadow.
Misty nor any dog could live up to the expectations set by TV’s Lassie, I enjoyed training her and we developed a strong bond. She shared some of the most important times of my life and was my college roommate. After 16 short years, I lost my best friend and my need for connection surfaced and surged again inside me. It awakened my need not only for another dog, but for another canine companion but for my own human family.
I began the search for my family of origin, which is a search for self for those of us who are adopted. Much to my surprise and delight, when I opened an envelope with a card from my first mother, there was a drawing of a dog on the front. I smiled. She told me she had twelve dogs and three children.
It dawned on me that dogs had been the key, all along, to the connection I had sought throughout my life. My love affair with Lassie brought me home. I felt part of the human family at last, complete with inherited quirks shared by others in my pack, including dog-loving genes. Embracing my two human families and the dogs I loved, I was whole at last, and emboldened to embrace a new career dedicated to fostering rich relationships between people and their dogs.
