Unmotivated

June 2011

If there’s one phrase you hear in our household on a daily basis, it’s “I could eat.”

It’s 4:30, any chance you’re ready for dinner?  I could eat.

Wanna meet friends for second lunch? I could eat.

Let’s try the new fro-yo place around the corner. ICE.

Zozo embraced this homespun practice, never begging but enthusiastically accepting meals, treats and nibbles.  His favorites?  Turkey & Giblets cat food (much to Athena’s chagrin), carrots, apple chunks, peanut butter, Cheerios, pancakes, pizza crust, burnt french fries, ice cubes… you get it.  He’s not picky.

The Little Girl, on the other paw, is not interested in food.  There have been too many mornings when James and I switch off getting ready for work, with sitting on the floor feeding MJ her breakfast– by hand– one kibble at a time.

We’re big believers in treat-training and rewarding her good behavior (successful potty trips, a tush touchdown of “sit,” etc.).  The problem is, she just doesn’t care.  We break out the highest of high-value treats: boiled chicken rolled in bacon grease, hot dogs, Peanut Butter Captain Crunch.  Food?  Whatever.

     “MJ, sit.”

     “No thanks, Mama.  I’m gonna goat this grass and ignore you.” (NOTE: if you can imagine hearing GWTW’s Scarlett or Steel Magnolias‘ Shelby, you’ve got MJ’s voice. Yes, I’m serious.)

-or-

     “Come!… Noooooo, come!” James calls.

     “Oh look, fox poo!  Let’s roll in it, Doodle!”

     “I’ve got hot dogs and belly rubs, Miss!”

     “I’m busy, daddy!”

Our training progress with MJ is, predictably, slow.  Zozo, however, is putting on some padding because he responds to our training cues like a champ.  Because, like his parents, he could eat.

Internet chat boards aren’t much help.  The vet is convinced MJ will come around.  Or not.  “She might just be one of those dogs.”

 256743_2001419148058_5637553_o

And so, dear readers, how have you enticed a puppy who is utterly indifferent to yummies?

 

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3 thoughts on “Unmotivated

  1. Every time I read one of your posts I’m somewhat convinced we’re actually living in the same house.

    Our girl Stella (the simple one) is food motivated, but not enough that it is a stronger pull than romping in the backyard. When we need to get her in, filet mignon in a nice bernaise sauce would be utterly ignored as an incentive. It’s rather maddening.

    She is getting a bit better on her own as she is maturing (she’s somewhere between 18 months – 2 years old). Our trainer recommended “throwing a party” for her when she does come in. We praise her, pet her frantically, sing her songs, cheer her, generally act like raving lunatics, all in the high register of our voices. It feel ridiculous, and honestly is not always effective, but I do think it’s helping.

    Of course, all that commotion tends to scare her sister who came in like a good girl ten minutes early. Sigh.

  2. Pingback: Share and share alike. | peanut butter & cheese

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