In the beginning...

Cecil, a study of stong will
Cecil's polar opposite (still un-named)

It was Leash and Collar day. All five pups got their first lessons, giving me a hint as to what lies in their future training wise. Cecil is going to be a tough little cookie, getting him to factor me in and keeping it that way is going to be our biggest challange. The other extreme will be Rosie, she likes to change with the wind, if I'm reading her correctly she will be the one that will teach me the most out of this litter. I think our challanges with her will be getting her to focus and stay on task even with distractions while maintaining the ability to multitask (handle your livestock and listen to me). Where as Cecil could be one to blow through you to get to his stock, I could see Rosie being the one to blow around you. Step into Cecil and he may stop but then come harder, step into Rosie and she will stop but then go find something else to do.

These early days with these pups are funny, what I see today I may not see tomorrow. Everything I do with them influences who they will be and how they will react to pressure and stimuli. Just this little leash and collar session has changed these pups forever, if I did my job right I effectively laid down the first solid building block in the foundation of their carrier as working dogs. I can't make them be great dogs, but I can do the best I can to give them and myself the tools to help them become the best they can be.

It's their first step to independence, and they are going to flex their muscles and brains, they already are. Typically when I let them out in the yard they are right back to me, the least amount of pressure change sent them scampering back to me. Not after their lesson, they were adventureous and didn't want to come back when called, they discovered that pressure was nothing to fear, now they need to learn that with pressure comes requirement. Now the teaching begins and the job of limited access to things that you don't want learned.

I've already shown Cecil that ignoring me is not in his best interest. It's really a neat feeling when the pups pause even for just a moment to look to you, the look is priceless. The best way to describe it would be that they are taking pause to consider what you would like, or "can you please help me find my way out of this wet paper bag?".

I often think back to an article I read in the past, as my dogs teach me more the writings of Tony McCallum make more sense to me. It's a funny thing, I thought I understood the first time I read it, looking back, I didn't have a clue. You can find the entire article by following this link: http://www.workingaussiesource.com/stockdoglibrary/mccallum_whatwherehow2_article.htm

Training Starts When The Pup Is Brought Home

"If I buy a pup I start to teach it the day I get him. On the trip home, he rides next to me, perhaps inside my jacket. He gets used to my smell. I talk to him so he gets used to my voice. When we arrive home I don't just put my seven week pup in a cage. No, no, no! We now have three minutes in which we can form the basis of ten years of training.
“How do you do that? I take that pup out of the car. I get in an area where there's nothing he can get into or under because I don't want him hiding. I want him in a area where the only thing he knows is me. I put that pup down on the ground and I stand there and watch him. If he cries, 'Oh, oh, oh,' as I stand there, I say, `It's all right mate.' He knows that voice after three or four hours in the car. He knows nothing else — nothing smells familiar; nothing sounds familiar. There's no visual stimulus of anything except me, and that little pup trots over and sits on my boot. Pups always do. He might run off, have a little wee first, but if it's in an area where he can't get into or under anything, he'll come to the only thing he knows. As he starts to trot that five feet to me, I go, 'Wheo, wheet,' which is my `come' whistle, and say his name. As he sits on my boot, I'll say, `Sit, good dog.' So I've taught him his name, 'come,' 'sit.' And from here we're going to have an everlasting relationship.
“When he comes to me, I put my hand on him, reassure him and walk away. I wait until he has another excursion, another look around. Next time that little pup looks up, I go, 'Wheet, sit, good boy.' I pick him up and put him in the cage he's going to stay in that night. I try to make sure the pup had nothing to eat before I picked him up so he's got nothing to throw up in the car. I put that little pup in the pen and I reach across to a little eggnog I've made up for him. I put that bowl in there and he thinks, `Boy, I haven't eaten today.' As he smells the food and runs toward it, I put my finger under his chin and I go 'Wheet,' (my stop whistle) and his little seven week bottom sits on the ground. I take my finger from under his chin and say, 'Yes,' and he eats. I shut the little cage and go inside the house. That's a pup's first association with Tony McCallum. I'm a friend. I'm the only thing here he knows. I'm showing him: I don't hurt you or harm you. I don't actually make a big fuss of you. I can stop you from eating. I can allow you to eat. I can call you to me and I can place you somewhere. You are in my pack and you are quite low down, mind you. But I'm a benefactor not a dictator.
"If he squeaks, I come out and shake him. I don't like whining at night. I always set that little pup's cage at the back door and if I have to get up five or six times that night, it's nothing. I just come out. I get him by the side of his little head, 'Ahhtt, quiet!' and a lot of times, he wonders, `Oh, my goodness, what's that?' Normally, by morning he's tired like me and he stops that squeaking. It's, `Oh, I've got to be quiet."'