Good Days
The morning after Duncan came home I got up at 5:30 to let him out of his kennel to potty. Once I "herded" him back inside again I picked him up and put him on my bed, again to let him know that it was ok to be there. He jumped back down and followed me into the kitchen where I made some coffee. After a bit I went back to bed to sleep in for a while (because there's no sense in wasting a wonderful sleep-in-able Saturday morning.) When I laid down again, Duncan jumped right back up and settled in at the foot of the bed. I was very pleased, and a little surprised. I did kennel him when I went to bed again Saturday night, but on Sunday night, he walked into the bedroom ahead of me and jumped up on the bed, turned around and sat down and looked at me as if to say, "You coming Mom?" I laughed at him, and crawled into bed. From then on I did not kennel him at night.
Monday morning I got up to go to work and Duncan would spend his first day kenneled for eight hours. It was my goal to eventually let him have the run of the house at all times, but until he adjusted to his new surroundings (and he and Gracie exhibited signs of getting along well) I wanted to keep him kennelled. He was already kennel trained and was perfectly comfortable there, so it was the best course of action. I left his kennel in the living room, but had a little bit of difficulty getting him to go in this time. I eventually had to sit down next to the kennel and hold out a treat for him. (He was not eating much of his food right now because he was getting so many treats!) He finally went in quietly and I headed out to work. When I got home that night he seemed just fine and I let him out of his kennel and then into the back yard. We played the herding game again when it was time for him to come in and it took a little longer for me to get him into the house than it had been. The poor thing was so nervous and shy, and it made me sad to think that he was running away from me and not going into the house because he thought I may strike or lash out at him in some way. Shelties are so extra sensitive that the affect harsh treatment has on them is often worse than it might be on many other breeds. But I was surprised and encouraged again later that night when I got out of the shower and walked into my bedroom to find Duncan already laying in bed waiting for me.
Monday morning I got up to go to work and Duncan would spend his first day kenneled for eight hours. It was my goal to eventually let him have the run of the house at all times, but until he adjusted to his new surroundings (and he and Gracie exhibited signs of getting along well) I wanted to keep him kennelled. He was already kennel trained and was perfectly comfortable there, so it was the best course of action. I left his kennel in the living room, but had a little bit of difficulty getting him to go in this time. I eventually had to sit down next to the kennel and hold out a treat for him. (He was not eating much of his food right now because he was getting so many treats!) He finally went in quietly and I headed out to work. When I got home that night he seemed just fine and I let him out of his kennel and then into the back yard. We played the herding game again when it was time for him to come in and it took a little longer for me to get him into the house than it had been. The poor thing was so nervous and shy, and it made me sad to think that he was running away from me and not going into the house because he thought I may strike or lash out at him in some way. Shelties are so extra sensitive that the affect harsh treatment has on them is often worse than it might be on many other breeds. But I was surprised and encouraged again later that night when I got out of the shower and walked into my bedroom to find Duncan already laying in bed waiting for me.
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