K9 Academy pt. 1
Before Field work
1. What do I already know about the subject:
I don’t know much about the K9 Academy Dog Training Centre except that it has a 4.9 star rating on google (104 reviews). I’ve also determined that the founder and head trainer of the academy, Anesh, has a great smile and warm eyes.
Based on other information provided on the website, I know that “before Anesh began training clients of his own, he spent a year travelling around Canada to learn from the top canine experts in the country to educate himself on all training disciplines and styles.”
Reading this piece of his bio prompts me to imagine Anesh’s yearlong expedition in vivid detail. I see him hiking in the mountains of Vancouver Island, alongside a ruggedly handsome, long haired dog whisperer named Shane and his pack of spiritually attuned golden retrievers. Then I imagine him on the beaches of Cape Breton, with Pauline, a fiercely committed trainer with short grey hair and a puffy vest on. She is teaching Anesh how to properly train a dog to swim and fetch sticks from the water.
Finally, I see him in a sterile looking academy setting, surrounded by a group of German Sheppards sniffing around him and the space. Anesh is studying the protocols of the RCMP dog training unit and taking extensive notes.
Aside from my preliminary musings about Anesh and my steadfast resolve to get my mom to register her puppy in the K9 Academy Level One Basic Obedience Course, I don’t know much about communities of dogs and their owners.
I do know that I’m not a dog person. I haven’t been for a while. This probably dates back to when I was about 11 years old and my mom gave our two dogs, Tyler and Mandy, away to different families.
Me and Mandy (Beagle)
Tyler (Bearded Collie)
She was a divorced, working mom, teaching at a high school by day and driving me to and from my various extracurriculars by night. Tyler had a bad habit of barking at anything that moved, and Mandy couldn’t help but run away anytime she had the opportunity.
It was all too much for my mom.
A few years later, somehow, we got the dogs back. Apparently, they were too much for the families that adopted them too.
By the time Tyler and Mandy returned, they seemed different.
I was different too. A shy teenager plagued with insecurity and acne, I didn’t have much energy to help take care of the dogs, who now seemed a little withdrawn, anxious and overly needy.
Mandy couldn’t stop peeing in the house and Tyler never wanted to cuddle.
I think this was around the time I stopped being a dog person.
What started out as a relationship full of love and affection turned into one marked by aversion. Perhaps the aversion was merely a shield for my heart that broke into pieces when the eleven-year-old me had to say goodbye.
My mom, on the other hand, is very much a dog person. That spirit never left her. In her retirement years, she’s grown into her love for dogs in a different way, a way that feels both childlike and mature.
She now has a 9-month-old German Shepherd named Kia.
When I see my mom embrace Kia, I imagine her as a 5-year-old, grieving child. Her father died when she was only 4 and her stern mother never let animals in the house. My mom coped with a difficult childhood by way of her own imagination. She would picture herself holding a little puppy, caring for one with all her heart and having a best friend and protector, who loved her unconditionally.
I know how much it would mean to her if I could pet Kia with a similar kind of love and affection.
But I just can’t.
When I was 18 years old, my own father died and my aversion to dogs became even stronger. He used to always take a few steps back whenever a dog would approach him. Maybe I started to take after him more than ever, as my way of keeping him close. My dad had always protected and loved me unconditionally, until he couldn’t anymore.
I remember being quite young when I first heard my grandfather, Zaidy Velvel, tell a story about how Nazi dogs killed his sister during the Holocaust. Apparently German Shepherds were particularly favored by Hitler because of their obedient nature. My dad must have also been a child when he first heard about what happened to the aunt he never met.
When my mom takes Kia for walks, I see the child and mother in her become activated. Kia is heavy and has boundless energy. She also knows how to pull. I feel scared for my mom, who is nearing 70, and, despite her strong constitution, is naturally becoming more vulnerable with time.
In an effort to alleviate my fears and also connect with Kia and my mom on a deeper level, I tell my mom I’ll pay for half of the 6-week obedience training course at the K9 academy and even join in on a few sessions with her.
Anesh’s warm smile and passionate dedication is reassuring. Just imagining my mom and Kia at these classes, fills me with a sense of comfort and relief. I’m surprised that the thought of being around a class full of dogs is also giving me a surge of excitement.
I hope she’ll take me up on the offer.
To Be Continued
