Teddy, an eight-year-old Border Collie, has his well-behaved owner.
When Teddy’s owner was between jobs, each morning the two would drive into town in the family van for coffee and a newspaper at the local Stewart store. Now that Teddy’s landlord has found a job, Teddy insists on making the morning trip, regardless of his landlord’s new responsibilities.
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Here is the script for TEDDY: THE MOVIE:
Listen to light orchestral music that gradually swells with the appearance of the sun.
The sun rises on the bucolic setting of a field bordered by a nearby forest. The sun’s rays touch a remote farm. The rays crawl over the porch, then over the door, then inside the house, on the floor, and finally land on the face of a sleeping Border Collie with a grizzled muzzle.
Start a musical crescendo.
The dog’s eyes open.
Shot on the van, view from the side of the house. Around the corner, the dog rushes to the truck, stops at the door, turns 180° and sits on the dusty ground at the door of the truck.
A slight tick-tock tick-tock as the camera moves down the hallway of the house.
Cut to an alarm clock that reads 5:00 a.m. Pan to the bed frame, where a pair of well-worn boots rest on a rug.
Back to the dog by the truck. He emits a soft phew.
Plan on the bed; there is a moan. Two bare feet swing from the bed and reach for the boots.
Back to the truck. The dog emits a slightly louder and more insistent wow.
Listen to a catchy, rhythmic melody.
A man appears at the door of the house. The dog looks at him expectantly, wagging its tail. The man sighs, takes the keys out of his pocket and starts walking down the driveway. As the man approaches, the dog stands up, his whole body swaying with each swipe of his tail. Close-up of the dog’s eyes, warm and brown.
Shot of the truck parked at Stewart’s, the man sitting in the driver’s seat, sipping coffee, the dog sitting upright in the gun seat, gingerly accepting a bite of donut from the man.
Compare Teddy with Abigail, a 2 year old Bichon Frize. Here is his scenario:
ABIGAIL: THE MOVIE
Cue some bubbly, happy music.
The camera pans down a dead end street in a suburban neighborhood and up the sidewalk lined with a large house with a manicured lawn and a recent pristine white SUV in the driveway.
We see the interior of the house and the kitchen, the back of a woman’s legs in front of the sink, the sound of water and the clatter of dishes. The camera pans to a pink and white dog bed on the floor, a small white dog sleeping there.
Seen only from a dog’s perspective, we look up as the woman dries her hands on a dish towel, walks down the hallway, and picks up a pink polka-dot leash from a hook on a rack that reads “This house is protected by a bichon frize”. .”
Woman (enthusiastically): Abigail! Want to take a ride?
The dog raises its head, slowly lifts its body, then lowers itself to the ground and creeps out of bed and away. Shot of dog’s back, picking up speed as it rounds a bend and disappears.
Woman (wistfully, pleading): Abigail? Abigail? Come on, darling. It’s time to take a look…
Ever since Abigail got home from the breeder, she dreaded car trips. She must be dragged on a leash to the car. She won’t go there of her own accord. If you throw her in the SUV, she starts shaking. A high-pitched moan emerges from his trembling body, punctuated by short screams of terror.
Once the car starts, his face becomes a panting mask of misery. She curls up, shudders and drools. Even though she’s not vomiting, she clearly feels unhappy. Throughout the journey, she curls up on a family member’s lap, caresses and giggles, until the ordeal is over.
As a result, Abigail’s owners drive her less and less. Now she only has to endure the torture in the car during her annual visit to the vet. Needless to say, the veterinary clinic is not his favorite destination. But that’s for another blog post.
Without realizing it, Abigail’s owners made several mistakes early on that only increased their dog’s car anxiety:
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Mistake #1 – Abigail’s first car ride took her from her littermates to her new home. His second car trip was to the vet. Neither experience was particularly fun for her.
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Mistake #2 – Her family made a big fuss about car rides to try to get her excited.
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Mistake #3 – She was dragged to the car and forced into it.
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Mistake #4 – Car trips were only to the vet clinic.
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Mistake #5 – Petting and soothing Abigail for her distressed behavior only made things worse, not better.
Here’s what could have been done instead:
1. Take the first car ride to a park or yard for a play session and some treats. Same for the second car journey, and the third.
2. Escort Abigail to the car in a matter-of-fact and discreet manner, without fanfare.
3. Take Abigail for a walk first, to expend some energy and tire her out, then guide her to the car on a leash. Help her but don’t put with her, so she can get to the car by herself.
4. Car rides can include visiting friends who have dogs, the pet store, dog parks, and other fun places. Road trips can also involve short errands and vacations.
5. When humans sympathize with a dog as we would with a child, the dog reacts like a dog, not like a child. The reaction of a dog with soft voices of commiseration is to become more anxious.
How does your dog like car rides? What scenario is playing out between you and your dog?