Yes, they wanna.
Yes, they wanna.
Dogs just wanna have fun.
Just because Cyndi sings about it, doesn't mean she's cornered the market.
Not at all.
That is why I am writing a manual for you and your pooch.
Fraining with Cyndi
It is the kind of training that puts an F in front.
Because if you are a dog, that is what life is all about.
Fun.
Theoretically speaking, this Cyndi practice is not new.
But then nothing is.
We all borrow from each other.
No idea is original.
Ideas are merely revisited.
And speaking of borrowing stuff. If anybody has seen my blue jean jacket. The one with the spotted leopard collar. The collar that my friend Fran sewed on. Please return it to me, if you would. I think you may have run into it at Old Chicago, before Old Chicago turned into Culvers. So, obviously you have enjoyed it long enough.
Anyway.
People have been using the Cyndi method since the beginning of time.
There are hieroglyphs on cave walls to prove it.
But of course, back then it was called, Ugh, like everything else.
"What Louisa?"
Excuse me. My sister is interrupting me again.
"Oh."
Louisa says hieroglyphs are Greek, they came later and have nothing to do with cave walls.
"Whatever."
The only reason she knows that is she looked it up because I didn't know how to spell it.
"I do not need a history lesson, Louisa. I am telling a story here."
As I was saying. If this fraining has been around forever, why then am I writing a manual?
Well, because Sven and I have years upon years of stacked up experiences.
We have accrued much knowledge.
New knowledge.
And my mother always told me to share.
So, I am here today to share my knowledge.
This is how it works.
Say your dog starts acting like a dick.
You know, barking.
Then panting.
Then barking.
Then whining.
Remember, he is doing this for a reason.
Your dog wants something.
So, instead of yelling things like, "What in the hell do you want now, Hunter?"
Because you've had a long day already. And then you played tug-o-war. Fed him supper. Passed out his meds. Let him wash down his pills with fresh water and a flip chip. And just in case that wasn't good enough, you put the seat up and left the light on. You made spaghetti while he dug another hole in your yard and you didn't say a word about it. And that was after he swam three times in the not so clear pond so you had to hose him off.
You took him for two walks across the field to let him dry.
And Sven gave him a massage.
No.
No. No. No.
No yelling, because he is fussing again.
This is when you say, "What would Cyndi do?"
Because Cyndi just wants to have fun.
You see, the problem is, too many people do not know what their dogs want.
They spend their lives trying to get their dogs to do as they would like their dogs to do.
This overrated method of training,
A) takes a lot of work.
B) takes a lot of work.
And C) you have to be consistent.
Also, by having your dog sit, stay, be seen and not heard. Not letting him stick his head in the ground or crotches, you are pretty much abolishing the creative spirit he was born with.
You could be limiting your baby from reaching his full potential.
That is not right.
So, shake your pretty little head and empty it of all those sweet pictures you have of everybody loving your nice puppy.
Because a dog that everybody loves, is not a happy dog.
If you want to meet a happy dog.
Stop on over.
Guaranteed you will not be back.
He is that happy.
Now that we are on the same page with a common goal, here is your first lesson.
It is a Saturday night.
Don't you just love Saturday nights?
Ahh.
The weekend.
It is finally here.
Time to kick back.
Put your feet up.
Well guess what Sherlock?
Your dog loves Saturday nights too.
He has had to put up with you rushing off to work all week long and throwing a biscuit on your way out the door.
It ain't that easy being a needy dog.
So, when you are sitting out there on your back deck, sheltered from the rain, with your fancy cocktails, like beer. And your dog is out there with you, because he is always there with you. And he starts to get a little fussy, you know, barking, panting, barking and then whining, because you are no longer speaking directly to him. And you even stopped talking about his favorite topic, him. He's beaten you both at tug-o-war. He's had his quota of those little snap treats. You got your walks in before the rain.
And now, he is whining.
Again.
So.
Now what?
"What would Cyndi do?"
Well, I will tell you what Cyndi would do.
Cyndi would pull out her big guns.
Cyndi would give her dog a Saturday night special.
No idiot.
Not a pistol for his purse.
A Saturday night special, bone.
The kind with chicken, that looks like a strip of bright pink bacon, in the middle of it.
And not from The Dollar Store either.
Hunter does not like that kind.
Yes, they wanna. Yes, they wanna.
Now, wasn't that easy?
"What's that Louisa?"
I don't care if the words are, They just wanna, They just wanna.
Would you quit looking everything up? I am trying to tell a story here.