September 12, 2018

White Dog is as perplexed by the randomness as I am. "Roman does so well for like three weeks at a time and I start to feel hopeful and then BAM! he has a total meltdown day. It makes no sense."

She is right. There is no pattern we can discern. Not the weather nor the day of the week nor a stressful episode nor some change...but SOMETHING is the trigger.

This morning I heard the all too familiar snarls and loss of control before I even got out of bed. Steve was sternly ordering Roman to his timeout crate after Roman got too aggressive to Tizenegy who just happened to be standing in the middle of the living room. And when Roman refused to back down and follow his training, Steve took him by the collar to personally steer him in.

"Oh NO! Mister, You do NOT talk to ME like that," Steve laid down the law as Roman snarled and tried to snap at him. "NOW! In the crate. And you get breakfast last." And Steve shut the door.

I had joined the family by the time breakfast was finished and medications had been distributed. Roman was now quite contrite and could not be more attentive and positive to Steve. He was also the poster child for being a functional family member.

Roman came over to greet me and I took his head in my hands so he had to look at me. "That was a pretty mean beginning to the day, Buddy. But we are going to start over. Here is what is going to happen." I told him gently but firmly. "We are going to practice recalls this morning and I expect you to return to me instantly without attitude. Then you can rest and nap but if I hear you losing control or being mean, I will leash you and you will spend the day at my side. Do you understand?"

Roman took a breath. White Dog took the opportunity to add her advice. "And brother, don't even DREAM you are big enough or mean enough to talk to momma like you did to dad. You will never win THAT argument, believe me. Best to be on your most excellent behavior all day and hope that momma writes your start off to temporary demons."