The Chihuahua Story
One of my favorite writing stories is man against dog story. It goes like this.
A man named, Jack, and his wife shared their home with a Chihuahua, named “Loco.” As Chihuahuas are, Loco was a nervous, little dog always moving and shaking. Loco was even more nervous, when Jack waa around because the little dog was unsure of the big man’s affection.
Every time Jack came near the creature, fearful Loco would run to the kitchen. Next would come the awful, clattery tapping, of tiny Chihuahua-dog nails on the kitchen tile floor and then the stomping of industrial workboots following after. When Jack made it to the kitchen, he would loudly say, “Stop that damn racket. Stop it NOW.”
Loco would freeze at Jack’s command, spread his back legs, and proceed to pee on the yellow and gray kitchen floor.
This event happened almost every day. Jack muttered under his breath as he cleaned it up. Who knows if Loco understood words like That dog has to go . . . if it weren’t my wife’s dog . . .?
Day after day, Loco got nervous. Jack yelled. Loco peed. Jack got mad.
Finally Jack sought help from a friend who suggested that Jack immediately put the dog’s nose in the “event,” tap his nose with a newspaper, and then set the dog outside.
“That,” the friend promised, “would help the dog connect the “event” to doing it outside.” The friend cautioned Jack that it might take a few days, but to keep at it until the dog showed progress.
Jack thought it was worth a try.
So the very next time the dog peed on the floor, Jack followed the plan. He put the dog’s nose in the “event,” tapped it with a newspaper, and threw the dog out the open kitchen window — the one right over the sink. He repeated the process each time with out missing a beat.
The dog learned.
By the fifth day, the dog knew what to do.
He peed on the floor
and jumped out the window.
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