POTTY SEAT FOR BOY : POTTY SEAT
Potty seat for boy : Funky car seat covers : Flip potty seat
Potty Seat For Boy
- A male child or young man
A son
male child: a youthful male person; "the baby was a boy"; "she made the boy brush his teeth every night"; "most soldiers are only boys in uniform"
a friendly informal reference to a grown man; "he likes to play golf with the boys"
son: a male human offspring; "their son became a famous judge"; "his boy is taller than he is"
A male child or young man who does a specified job
Overcoming Fear
Magnus hates car rides. He has an overwhelmning fear of getting into cars. Now, that is easy to overcome when the dog is small, but Magnus is a 58.4 pound, 4 1/2-month-old puppy. He's easily getting too big to lift up into the car. So we have been working hard at overcoming this fear. In fact, Magnus now receives most of his food in the backseat of the car. I set it there and let him figure out how to get up and in it to enjoy his meal. I truly hope he learns that cars are good places. Finally, he does well until I shut the door. I even keep the windows down so he doesn't feel so enclosed. Doesn't help. He won't eat if the doors are closed. We keep repeating over and over closing the door and letting him out. Leaving treats on the backseat. Letting him eat some. Closing the door. Magnus stops eating and pants. At least it was a great victory to get him to want into the car for his food. That, by the way, took sitting in the back of the car with Bogart (who LOVES the car) for a few hours. Yep, you read that right. I spent part of a day sitting in the back seat loving up Bogart. After all, Magnus doesn't want Bogart to get all the attention. That afternoon was a success. And it needed to be. That was Tuesday afternoon. And Tuesday evening was his first day of PuppyKinder Class.
Our PuppyKinder Class first night experience was less than positive. Sigh. For one, Magnus hated being closed in the car. For another, I was running what I consider late (I want to show up to things ten minutes early) when I missed my turn. Argh! My stress level went up as I was driving down the highway looking for a place to turn back. We finally made it to the property and Magnus was happy to get out of the car, but he had just ridden over half an hour in the car, so I knew he'd need to pee before the hour was up. So I tried to potty him. Magnus had no interest. Sigh. We needed to get inside the pole barn, and I didn't have the time or luxury of doing my usual making Magnus sit before entering, etc., to show who was in charge. Add to all of that, Magnus was incredibly anxious and exuded this high-energy, uncontrolled feel. He did not settle down. We were to sit in chairs, well, dogs on the ground next to us, but you get the picture. I could barely listen because Magnus kept wanting to go enthusiastically greet the other puppies. Sigh. The lady running the class brought over a huge box of toys. Magnus picked up one that had already been torn open: some other dogger from the de-squeaker squad had disemboweled it. However, the lady thought Magnus had torn it apart. He really, truly hadn't. Truly. But now somehow I feel he has been labeled as a destructive, high-energy dog. I wasn't enjoying myself, and Magnus just wanted to meet the others. She taught us clicker training technique, something I have used on our dogs, not that you could tell because Magnus had zero interest in listening to me. Ugh. It was ugly.
The uncontrolled, hyperactive mass of muscle and bark at my feet was nearly unrecognizable to me, and I'm almost certain he's been labeled a problem student from the get-go. I wanted to yell out, you need to see him at home! Magnus sits on a mat with Bogart two feet from seven (now eight although Grigsby eats elsewhere still) cats enjoy a leisurely meal. He does not destroy anything in the house, although he has stolen a stray sock that didn't make it to laundry about three times. Magnus sits at the door when he wants out, waits patiently for Bogart to go out first, and Magnus is finally learning he has to sit once outside and await a command to release him from that sit. Magnus heels nicely (at my R side as Bogart is on my L). Magnus is a fabulous puppy who needs to learn socialization. I know that. That's why I enrolled him in the class. Sigh.
Well, enough rambling. I'm hoping I can get Magnus more accepting of the car. And I also hope I can get him calmed and centered before entering the pole barn next week. All it takes is exposure and gaining confidence facing new experiences, so I know it'll get better, but this problem child really just needs understanding and patience. And I need to get him more and more socialized somehow. Before he gets too big. Sigh.
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Oh, by the way, I am absolutely reeling. I received Magnus' DNA test. He is officially 0% Newfoundland. He has one pure-bred parent and one cross-bred, so there are only three breeds in this boy. Not one ounce of his blood is Newfie. Wowsa. Any new guesses as to his heritage?
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My New Potty
Jack has a Lightning McQueen potty seat for the big boy potty now
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