Treadmilling

I was able to teach THIS DOG to walk on a treadmill in under 5 minutes.

And yes, that is his front leg through his collar. Don't ask me how. Ask him.

Before I go brag about how I am The Pug Whisperer, I must tell the whole story. NOTE: No one was harmed, although I have some weird bruises.

The treadmill training was brought by Cesar Milan (The Dog Whisperer) in the vain hope that if I tire Chester out he won't wander around the yard eating turds, raspberries, grass clippings, etc. To Cesar's credit, he has a disclaimer to consult a professional, but I am a DIY kind of gal.

It took me about 15 minutes total to train Chester, Bugsy and Erwin to walk on the treadmill out in the garage. Not bad. I felt very pleased and Pug Whisperer-ish. It was a little hot out so I put Erwin back in the house and went out with Bugsy. Unfortunately, Chester shot out of the house too, thinking Bugsy shouldn't get all the treats, so the three of us went into the garage.

Then I got the bright idea to show the two doggies that their pack leader also walked on the treadmill. Why? Who knows -- they were already willing to walk on it. I suspect it was a large case of smugness and showing off for a canine (read: easily amused) audience. So as I'm walking on the treadmill, Bugsy jumps on and proceeds to walk next to me. "Well, this is remarkable," I think, "We're walking together! Cool!"

Malcontent Chester decided to nip at Bugsy. This is how he asserts dominance and is his idea of foreplay. It precedes dominance mounting, so I am watching him to see if it progresses. Clearly, Chester has no clue about the laws of physics or the laws of unintended consequences. On the other hand, I do, so I try to shoo him away. Obviously, Chester does not think I am his pack leader and blissfully ignores me.

The biting caused Bugsy to lose concentration momentarily so Chester made his move and suddenly there were THREE of us on a moving treadmill with me trying to shove Chester off. As I fell, Chester shot off the back of the machine, crashing butt first into a parked motorcycle, with Bugsy close behind and me right behind him yelling, "Bugsy! DOWN! DOWN!" in the hopes he will go under the motorcycle and not get crushed between me and the bike. At the same time, I'm trying to push Bugsy under the bike and flailing at the emergency stop cord but I couldn't grab it in time.

When Chester hit, he screeched (he is a big baby) but managed to wriggle out of the way. Bugsy was trying to climb out from between the bike and the end of the treadmill, but every time I tried to move off him, the treadmill would shove me back into the bike. I kept hoping Bugs was UNDER and not between me and the bike. All I could think of to do as the belt was scraping along my butt was to do an arch with my shoulders on the unmoving side rail of the treadmill, reach over and unplug the machine.

My ponytail is intact. My pants are intact. Chester is traumatized but OK, Bugsy is OK and has motorcycle chain wax in his fur. Erwin was exhausted, since he had finished treadmilling. Marley slept through it all.

Some days I have back pain so badly I can barely move. I wonder why that could be?

The next day, Chester was back on the treadmill. Bugsy, too. No mollycoddling here. And actually, he and Bugsy do the best on the thing (SEPARATELY!). And I always have that rip cord around my wrist as I straddle the pugs. No more walking together with Bugsy on the machine! On to teaching Marley how to treadmill.

I still aspire to be The Pug Whisperer, but to date I've only made it to Crazy Pug Lady of Coeur d'Alene.