Here we are with Mocha Teal at about 14 weeks old.
I do hope everyone is reading every line instead of skiming. As that is the only only to learn what it is like like.
There are no books that can fully prepare you for a Chocolate Labrador Retriever puppy. Plenty of authors have tried, and there are thousands of videos available online, but every Lab is different. Every puppy has its own personality, quirks, strengths, weaknesses, and agenda.
What have I learned during the last four weeks?
Books and videos can only talk about the general population of Labrador puppies. Each one is different from the next, even among littermates. What works perfectly for one puppy may be completely ignored by another.
I have been reading several books by Pippa Mattinson, especially The Labrador Handbook and Fetch. Both are excellent resources, filled with practical advice and years of experience.
I will be honest. If I had read The Labrador Handbook before adopting a Chocolate Lab, I probably would not have listened to all my friends.
You know who you are.
The ones who kept saying, "Dale, you need a dog."
Little did any of them realize that what they were really saying was, "Dale, you need a full-time project that runs on four legs, sleeps occasionally, and has razor-sharp teeth."
Nor did I realize that a Lab puppy—especially a Chocolate Lab—possesses a unique ability found nowhere else in nature.
A Labrador is the only breed capable of taking a simple hand signal and converting it into a search signal.
For example:
Me: "Sit."
Mocha: "I think you said search the RV."
Me: "Stay."
Mocha: "Search the RV faster?"
Me: "Leave it."
Mocha: "Search the RV and bring it back?"
Me: "No."
Mocha: "Understood. Search everything."
The Land Shark can locate items that have been missing for years. Unfortunately, she usually finds them by carrying them proudly through the RV while everyone chases her.
I've also learned that every object has value.
Shoes have value.
Socks have value.
Electrical cords have value.
Paper towels have value.
Chair legs have value.
And apparently, the most valuable item in the entire motorhome is whatever Susan or I happen to be holding at that exact moment.
Despite the chaos, the missing sleep, and the constant negotiations with a furry velociraptor, Mocha Teal has become part of the family.
Even Tilly, though she would never admit it publicly, is beginning to tolerate the tiny invader. I suspect she has realized that resistance is futile and that the Land Shark may, unfortunately, be a permanent resident.
The journey continues.
One chewed-up object at a time.
Another resource I have spent considerable time watching is the McCann Dog Training videos on YouTube.
To be fair, they provide a lot of valuable information, and their focus on setting a dog up for success is something I completely agree with. The training methods are well thought out and presented in a way that makes them easy to understand.
However, there is one thing that many new puppy owners may not realize.
The puppies featured in the videos are often presented as highly active, difficult, or prone to biting. Yet, compared to the VelociLab Puptor currently living in our motorhome, some of them appear to be having what can only be described as a remarkably calm day.
What viewers do not always see is the work that occurs before the cameras start rolling. McCann has acknowledged online that there is off-camera training and preparation that takes place prior to filming. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that—after all, nobody wants to watch thirty minutes of chaos while a puppy decides that the microphone cable is its newest chew toy.
The challenge for a new puppy owner is that it can create the impression that success happens much faster than it often does in real life.
Meanwhile, here in the real world, Mocha Teal is conducting her own training program.
Her curriculum includes:
Advanced Sock Recovery.
Countertop Surveillance.
Unauthorized Shoe Inspection.
Paper Towel Redistribution.
And a graduate-level course in "How to Turn a Five-Minute Training Session into a Forty-Five Minute Search and Rescue Mission."
The reality is that training a Labrador puppy is not a straight line. Some days you feel like a professional dog trainer. Other days you find yourself negotiating with a fourteen-week-old chocolate velociraptor over possession of a leaf.
Guess which days occur more often.
Finally, I am beginning to learn the trigger points of a highly active female Chocolate Labrador puppy.
What do I mean by trigger points?
Simply put, puppies have a way of telling you when they are mentally or physically tired. The problem is that they don't send a text message, wave a flag, or politely announce that they are finished for the day.
Instead, they become the Land Shark.
One of the biggest mistakes I made early on was continuing a training session or fun activity long after Mocha Teal had already told me she was done.
At first, I thought she needed more exercise.
Wrong.
I thought she needed more training.
Wrong again.
What she really needed was a nap.
I have learned that when Mocha starts ignoring commands she knew five minutes earlier, begins zooming around the RV like a furry tornado, starts biting everything in sight, or suddenly decides that my hands are the most interesting chew toy in the world, she isn't being stubborn.
She is tired.
Very tired.
In fact, I am discovering that many of the behaviors I blamed on "puppy craziness" were actually Mocha's way of saying, "Mr. Dale, my brain is full. Class is over. Please return me to my crate for a mandatory power nap."
Of course, being a Labrador, she would never voluntarily admit this.
Instead, she doubles down on the chaos.
The more tired she becomes, the more convinced she is that additional bad decisions are the answer.
I can almost hear the conversation in her head.
"Am I exhausted?"
Yes.
"Should I take a nap?"
No.
"Should I run laps around the RV, steal a sock, attack a chair leg, and bite Dad's shoelaces?"
Excellent plan.
As it turns out, one of the best training tools for a puppy is not a leash, a treat pouch, or a training video.
It's recognizing when the VelociLab Puptor has reached her expiration date for the day and needs some quiet time.
The funny part is that once she gets that nap, she wakes up looking sweet, innocent, and completely refreshed—as if she had absolutely nothing to do with the destruction that occurred just an hour earlier.
And somehow, we fall for it every single time.
Time for some Photos:
Of course, not every day is spent dealing with the VelociLab Puptor.
Despite the photographic evidence shown above, there are moments when Mocha Teal actually resembles a normal Labrador puppy.
These moments are usually short-lived.
One minute she is racing through the RV with a stolen sock, leaping over furniture, and displaying the problem-solving skills of a criminal mastermind.
The next minute she is sitting quietly beside me, looking up with those big brown eyes that seem to say, "I love you."
That is the trap.
Those eyes have convinced countless Labrador owners that they have finally turned the corner.
They haven't.
The VelociLab Puptor is merely regrouping.
What I am learning is that both personalities are real.
The sweet puppy is real.
The affectionate companion is real.
The eager-to-please retriever is real.
Unfortunately, so is the tiny velociraptor that believes every object in the motorhome should be inspected with her teeth.
As Mocha grows, I am beginning to recognize the difference between a puppy that is ready to learn and one that is approaching full Puptor status.
The signs are subtle at first.
A missed command.
A sudden interest in chewing the leash.
An intense desire to investigate a leaf that has been sitting in the same spot for three days.
Then comes the zoomies.
Then comes the biting.
Then comes the look.
Every Labrador owner knows the look.
The eyes widen.
The ears perk up.
The brain shuts down.
And somewhere in the distance, the theme music from Jurassic Park begins to play.
That is usually my signal that training time is over and nap time has arrived.
The good news is that after a good nap, the VelociLab Puptor once again transforms into Mocha Teal—the sweet little Chocolate Lab who has already found a permanent place in our hearts.
At least until she finds another sock.
Susan, Tilly, Mocha, Me and of Course Dakota following
Along in Gus da Bus