[Dailydrool] Elsinore takes the pet therapy test

[Elizabeth Lindsey]

I won't leave everyone in suspense. Our Elsniore took her third pet  
therapy recertification test of the year on Saturday and failed it  
yet again.

The first time she took and failed the test was in early May.  
Everyone was surprised because she'd done so well in the preceding  
classes. The evaluator wondered if perhaps the shock of seeing me in  
Corporate America business attire for the test had been too much for  
Elsinore. Because I work from home, she's used to seeing me in jeans  
and usually no shoes. The blazer I wore for the extra point on the  
"grooming and appearance" part of the evaluation, so the theory goes,  
completely discombobulated her.

There was also some discussion as to whether or not the one-mile walk  
I'd frog-marched Elsinore on before the test had tired her out. After  
all, she'd failed the test by settling in for some good patting  
during the "coming when called" part, refusing to leave the light  
touch of the assistant who was providing the required patting  
distraction. I have taken Elsinore on three-hour walks in the woods,  
and she returns home just as full of energy as she had when she left,  
so I seriously doubt our pre-test walk did her in.

The second time Elsinore took and failed the test was at the end of  
May. I'd spent the intervening weeks wearing my business attire  
outfit every day when we practiced, and just before the test I walked  
her only far enough to get her to poop. But she was panting by the  
time we got back to the car, and even with a drink of water, she  
still acted wilted on that first really hot day of the season. Then  
we entered the unairconditioned warehouse where the test was held,  
and it was all over before it even began.

Elsinore failed that test on the first part, "accepting a friendly  
stranger." She deliberately stood up and crossed in front of me to  
greet the person who approached to shake my hand. She'd never, ever  
done this before in class or practice, and I know she did it  
intentionally, realizing that the sooner the test was over, the  
sooner she'd be back in the airconditioned car. At the time I was  
worried that she was trying to tell me she was burned out on pet  
therapy work. But we went to her hospice job immediately after her  
failed test, and she put in a classic, textbook pet therapy  
performance that would have brought tears of joy to her evaluator's  
eyes.

In the time between her second and third attempts to pass the test I  
consulted two different pet communicators, one in Dwight and one at  
the OBR picnic. Both of them told me Elsinore thinks the pet therapy  
test is "stupid" and "doesn't reflect what I really do at my job."  
Both times I told Elsinore that the test may be stupid, but it's also  
necessary if she wants to continue her job. Does she like working at  
the hospice? Yes, she said, she does. She likes making a difference  
in people's lives. Okay, then. She's *got* to pass that test,  
regardless what she thinks of it, if she wants to stay on at the  
hospice.

I offered her bribes. If she passed the test, I'd give her a  
McDonald's hamburger. I'd give her two McDonald's hamburgers. The pet  
communicators told me that Elsinore said she'd "think about it." Then  
they told me I should tell Elsinore when we were practicing for the  
test and when we were taking it. They told me to tell her that  
passing is important to me. Like she couldn't tell that already?

So for four or five days every day for the last six weeks I have put  
on my outfit, including hose; taken Elsinore to PetSmart, Home Depot,  
and a nearby church parking lot; told Elsinore that we're practicing  
for her next test; and told her that it means a lot to me that she  
pass it. I have used small orange cones, just like those used on the  
test. I've used a small pink ball on a white plastic oatmeal  
container lid, just like those used on the test. I enlisted my mother  
and her walker to help us practice the "staggering, gesturing" part  
of the test. I even went so far as to foster a Yorkie last week, just  
like the dog that's usually used as the neutral dog on the test. Ken  
and I practiced the neutral dog exercise with Elsinore and the Yorkie  
every night he was with us. I figured that having a Yorkie in the  
house would demystify the breed, so when Elsinore saw the Yorkie on  
her test she'd be like, "Oh, yeah, we got one of those at home, and  
they're really tedious."

On the way to the test, I told Elsinore she had two choices: she  
could choose to listen to and follow my directions, thus winning her  
the everlasting praise of her family, two McDonald's hamburgers, and  
a box of those holiday cookies she always sought out and lingered  
over whenever we were in PetSmart. Or she could choose to ignore me,  
thus failing the test and condemning herself to hearing me harp about  
it for months to come. I know which choice I'd make..... I also  
reminded her that it wouldn't kill her to pretend to be obedient to  
me for just one hour out of her life every other year. Once she's  
done with the test, she can go back to ignoring me and doing whatever  
she wants.

Well, Elsinore made her choice.

The part of the test that Elsinore failed was the neutral dog part.  
The neutral dog was a Yorkie.

Up until that point, Elsinore had been doing pretty well. On the  
"loose leash walk" part she'd pulled a bit in the direction of the  
assistants, but it wasn't catastrophic. But she just couldn't contain  
herself when she saw the Yorkie, and she strained and pulled to greet  
it. She may have big ears, but they sure weren't being used for  
listening at that moment. I did everything I could to control and  
distract her, including asking her to do her favorite dance step, but  
she was determined to meet that dog.

We were allowed to finish out the test, the rest of which focused on  
all the stuff Elsinore loves. Having been through this test twice  
already this year, she remembered that the second part is basically a  
love fest on a dog, and she could hardly wait for that part to begin.  
Being patted clumsily and held in a restraining hug? Oh, give her  
more! Being crowded by a group of people all wanting to pat her?  
Please, don't stop! Getting a treat at the end? Oh, yes, yes!

It's a bit ironic that the attributes that make Elsinore such a good  
pet therapy dog--such as her enthusiasm, lack of fear, friendliness  
toward other animals, and a strong desire to sit at people's feet and  
look up into their faces with eyes that beg that the patting never  
stops--are the same attributes that stand in her way of getting  
through the qualifying test.

I was very disappointed in Elsinore, but at least the evaluator felt  
I'd handled her well throughout the test and had done everything  
possible to be proactive and preventive. Small consolation, though. I  
did all I could to help her pass, except calling a pet communicator  
the day before. I thought about doing that but didn't. Maybe I should  
have. Maybe that would have made a difference.

On the way home afterwards we drove past two McDonalds, which I  
pointed out to Elsinore. We did not go to PetSmart for holiday  
cookies. I was mad by that point, so I stopped at Pizza Hut and went  
in to have lunch and then let Elsinore know I hadn't saved any crusts  
for her. I mean, Ken and I *suffered* through a whole week with a  
terror (I mean, terrier) so she'd have all the study tools she needed  
for this test, and it was all for naught.

When we got home, Elsinore went to bed and stayed there for a long  
time. She was subdued for the rest of the day. Later that evening,  
she found me and sat at my feet but wouldn't look at me. I pulled her  
up onto my lap and told her that even though I was very disappointed  
in her and even more sad for her because after this month she won't  
be able to do the work she so enjoys, I still love her very much and  
I'll never stop loving her. She was more like herself after that. I'm  
still sad for her. She loves going to the hospice and making new  
friends each month. She's very good at her work. Now she'll have to  
hide her light under a bushel until she can pass that test. The next  
opportunity is in March. I don't know if we'll take it. I'm still  
exhausted from preparing for this last test.

The next morning Charlie and I left Elsinore at home and went to  
PetSmart to buy the cookies she's been wanting. After all, she worked  
as hard at practicing for her test as I did. I took just Charlie,  
though, because he's been getting the short end of the stick all  
these weeks. He was left at home a lot while Elsinore went out with  
me (in my outfit). So I have some making up to do to him now. I  
thought I'd break out the cookies on Elsinore's last day of work in a  
couple of weeks. Oh, how I wish they could be cookies of reward  
instead of cookies of consolation, though!

Elizabeth