It's potty time

Okay, it's a silly play on words. But "potty time" at our house might be as amusing as a real party at someone else's place.

Casey (our other Golden Retriever) was extremely easy to house break. She spent the first six and a half weeks of her life with her genetic parents, a yearling brother and eight other siblings. The humans were a smart couple who built a very clever, practical den and baby bathroom out of plywood in the garage. The large nursery or den area was covered in blankets, puppy toys and nine puppies. It was built just the right height where momma dog could jump in and out of the place at will. The large area led to two smaller areas with openings just big enough for a puppy to enter. In those small "rooms" was a scattering of straw ... for potty use ... of course.

Whenever the pups were brought into the house, they witnessed their parents and older brother tap a paw at a bell at the back door to let the people know they needed to go outside. I'm sure they also tapped on the slider door in the process.

From day one when we brought Casey home, I took her outside to the back yard numerous times during the day and early hours of the morning. I kennel trained her and she was happy to sleep there at night. When she went outside to potty, I stayed with her, then I praised her and brought her back inside. Within a week or so, little as she was, she was putting her paw up to the slider glass door to let us know she needed to go outside. She had two accidents during those first few months and they were actually our fault. Besides, I'd swear her bladder is cast iron and about the size of a basketball. She doesn't seem to need to go first thing when she gets up in the morning. It takes her about an hour to be fully awake, then if you let her out she "patrols" the back yard for awhile first. You can almost see the wheels turning in her head as she walks around, sniffing everything in the yard, sticking her head through the openings in the lattice part of the fence to make sure everything out back is safe and secure. Then, all of a sudden it's like "oh, yeah, that's why I came out here, I needed to pee." She's never in a hurry to "do her thing" and she enjoys being out in the back yard by herself awhile in the process.

Fast forward a year and two months. Now we have a rescue dog who's approximately five years old living in the same household with Casey, who has the system down to a science. First of all, she's always with Glenn so when he has a desire, she makes it known to him. On the flip side Chester spent years living outside. He was then in foster care for 6 months in a home with a doggie door. As I've mentioned before, we don't have a dog door and won't install one because the house is for sale.

Chester doesn't let anyone know anything he wants. He will only let you know when he doesn't like something but Chester doesn't initiate any requests. So, I treated his bathroom needs as I had when Casey was a small puppy. Every several hours, I would leash Chester and put on my shoes, jacket or raincoat and we went to the back yard. Once out the slider door I released him from the leash and let him wander where he could have privacy if he wanted. Note: Casey requires privacy when she goes. If she catches you glancing her direction she'll give you a really dirty look. Chester doesn’t spend enough time out there to care. By the time anybody realized what he was doing, he’d already be back at the door waiting to go inside (where he belongs, just ask him).

After a few months of physically going outside with Chester every 3 or 4 hours for his potty breaks, I decided that he could go to the back yard by himself. He likes the food and toys here now so it's a safe bet he won't dig an escape tunnel. The next phase was to leash Chester, walk to the back slider door, unleash him and gently push him out the door towards the back yard.

Now, we don't even bother getting the leash. Every several hours I take hold of his collar, tell him it's time to go potty and I walk with him to the back door. I have to open and close the slider door very quickly because most of the time he circles and tries to get back inside.

Okay, for a dog who spent most of the last several years outdoors, he's understandably fond of the creature comforts of a warm house. Lately Chester has a favorite quiet corner in the basement, next to Glenn's bed. I put Chester out to potty just before bed time and he's good through the night. His basement corner is situated directly under a heater vent and usually has a soft blanket and a few toys in it, sometimes a chew bone. Generally the television is on, because he does watch it. Sometimes when Casey is there with him they enjoy the extra comfort of the bed itself. Good thing the bed is a king so there's occasionally room for Glenn too.

Chester enjoys his warm and comfortable house so much he really doesn't care to venture into the cold and wet back yard for anything, let alone bodily functions. He thinks that because he's an "inside" dog, we should provide better facilities for his needs. I bet if someone invented a real toilet that was practical for dog use, Chester would figure it out and actually use it.

Here's the scenario that plays out numerous times every day at our house. I walk Chester to the back door. As soon as I open the door and tell him to "go potty" he walks out but usually circles back to try to get back inside before I can shut the door. If I stand there and watch him, he will walk to the grass area just barely off the patio and make a small circle. Then he's back to the door, looking at me, sometimes smiling, hoping I didn't notice that he didn't even squat. I say "go potty" and he makes the same loop. Then I walk away from the door so he can't see me (but I can watch from the blinds in the next room). He goes to the yard and pees, then expects to be let in immediately. No fooling around for this one. When I open the slider door I have to be super fast again, otherwise he'll hit his head or bang his shoulders on it trying to get inside. A dog never knows ... somebody might want him to live outside again and he's not about to give up his cushy life.

Casey can patrol the back yard and watch out for her Dad. Chester's job is to lie in a warm corner,  watch TV, snuggle up with blankets and toys ... and look cute. They each do their jobs well.