I thought being 12 stories up I might avoid dirt. But today I discovered what makes my balcony dirty. Not the pollen (which showers on Miami and Tallahassee, seasonally) or the dirt of passing cars, but dusty. Scott, the window treatment man who came today, said dust blown up from the arid landscape here is the culprit in Sacramento. You don’t see it swirling or anything like that, but it’s in the air. Oh, well, dirt is dirt.
I did some errands this morning, and later in the elevator a neighbor told me she knew I was out because Zing barked. She and her husband were sympathetic: they’d once had a dog who barked like Zing. Neighbors can tell me if Zing is barking when I’m gone, so I’m beginning to ask around.
Cassi came today, and she trained me. I learned to entice Zing into his crate (not hard — done already — then to close the crate door momentarily, followed by a treat. Gradually make the closed-door time longer. Treats only when in crate. Edge toward door, followed by treat. Open front door. Treat. Extend time away from condo (just stand in hallway). Treat. Sometimes stay away a longer time. Sometimes not at all. You get the idea. I do too. Zing stays in crate when I’m gone, even if he barks. Then he won’t be at front door, won’t have the stimulation of the entire condo. Tire him out with long walk before I go out (The self-centered part of me says hey! this won’t always be possible! But for a couple of weeks, or maybe less, while training… I’ve got to do it. It means focusing lots on Zing (although Cassi says to keep the training sessions short). She’ll videotape him again in the middle of next week. I think I can last that long. Can you, Zing?
Love,
k
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