I got a phone call from Carol Johnson tonight, she is my good friend and the rescue volunteer who saved Bud and fostered him and helped to nurse him out of trauma and back to health.

The call meant a great deal to me.  Jon, this Carol, I’m absolutely astounded by how well Bud is going, I would never have thought he would have done this well that quick, I would have thought he would have been afraid of everything. Great work.”

Coming from Carol, who works so hard to save dogs, and whose standards for them are so high, this meant a great deal to me.

I am astounded by Bud as well, Carol reminded me  again tonight of how traumatized he was when she saw him months ago and how he will fall to the ground and freeze when anyone approached him or tried to pick him.

She doubted he would ever be so adventurous. Bud is still fearful and there is much work to do, but I am also surprised by how quickly Bud is coming along. He seems to feed on live and encouragement, and he loves treats, which makes training a lot easier.

I’m excited to have resumed the Small Dog Experience, it was a long and intense and sometimes grueling prospect, but it feels very good to me to be back at. I’ve learned a lot from my Small Dog Experience so far.

Small Dogs are now the most popular dogs in America, and it’s important for me to understand them. I am beginning to see why the Big Men In Trucks love their small dogs so much they cry when they talk about them.

I have, of course, developed my own theories about small dogs, and about training dogs and living with them. One is that I don’t see them as small dogs, or as fragile beings, or as being made of crystal, too  delicate to live the lives of dogs.

Another is that you will never again see me refer to Bud as a rescue dog. The word means nothing to him, and it only hobbles him and my expectations of him to see him as piteous and in need of special handling.

To some extent, that is true. But when I stood at the pasture gate and opened it for him, he gave me the longest long, as if to ask “do you really want me to go out there with those donkeys and sheep and fast dogs?”

I focused on my own sense of confidence and trust, and I said, “yeah, come on out. You can handle it.” And he did. (See video below).

I am constantly being told that dogs like Gus or Bud can’t handle the cold, don’t want to be out in the heat, must wear sweaters, should never be near donkeys or running sheep, have little stamina due to small snouts.

Some of this is absolutely true. One has to be careful with Boston Terriers in the heat or in mid-day or if there is not plenty of shade and water. And they don’t need to be out in sub-zero weather or raging blizzards, although I find that snow and ice doesn’t really bother them all that much.

But the lower one’s expectations, the less a dog will do. These dogs are dogs, and I need to see them as such.

My idea is to be thoughtful and to be careful, but as their steward, to give my dogs every opportunity to live their lives fully and with dignity.

Gus could handle the pasture. So can Bud. And just as nobody can really tell me  how to get a dog, no one can tell me how to train one. We are all different, so are they.

We are training our dogs every minute, really, training is not about obedience, but communication. It’s about learning to live in our world, which is rarely hospitable to dogs. Talking to them is important, so is listening.

I have this relationship with Bud now, when he starts to whine in the crate,  I say “no” in a sharp voice or “husssh” with a hiss. And it works. All the books say don’t ever speak to a dog in a crate when it’s whining, you will just reinforce them. And that is true, except when it’s not. I try to keep an open mind, try different things, see what works.

Tomorrow I’m getting a water bottle and if he is still lifting his leg in the house and marking territory in a week or so, I’ll squirt him on his head or on his butt. Dogs hate that. We’ll get there.

I believe in patience and love, the two most powerful training tools there are, and they are both free. I don’t need body wraps or,  hopefully, water bottles. I want to give him a chance to figure out life in our house, and to succeed. I don’t want to expect him to fail, or to set limits he doesn’t set for himself.

If I do my job, Bud will figure out what Maria and I like and don’t like, and  he’ll try to do it. That’s the genius of the dog.

If you listen to dogs, and also talk to them, they will tell you what you need to do, and you can hear what it is that they need to do.

The irony of small dogs is that in reality, they are quite often big dogs in a small body. So I think big when I think about them.

I think nature has made small dogs loud and powerful and strong, it balances things out. I know a lot of bigger dogs that are not nearly as tough as Gus was or Bud seems to be.

So this was a great weekend with Bud. He is sitting on command, we are working on stay, he is sleeping in his crate. Life is good.