AWAITING FURTHER ORDERS.
Lessons in standing up, walking and waltzing followed, and they were all easily taught. In teaching him anything, I was always careful to associate the action required of him with certain words. Standing, walking on his hind legs, and waltzing were always "stand up!" "walk!" "waltz about!" I never taught him more than one thing at a time, so that there should be no possibility of his misunderstanding the meaning of the word or words used.
In teaching him to stand up, I first made him sit; then by holding a piece of sugar over his head, I induced him to stand erect,—while I kept repeating, "Stand up!" "Stand up!" After he had learned this lesson, I made him first sit, then stand, and then, by going from him and saying "Walk!" I made him follow me until he understood the connection between the words and the action, even when I was at the other end of the room. I taught him to "waltz" by making him go around and around after a piece of sugar held over his head when he was standing up.
To make him go to his corner and lie down, without hurting his feelings, was difficult. If I said sharply, "Go to your corner and lie down!" he would go; but he would feel so badly that he could not play for half an hour. But by repeating the command in gradually softening tones and by giving him a piece of sugar each time, he eventually learned that he was not thereby in disgrace.
Seeing, however, how a sharp word would make his ears and tail droop, I took advantage of this fact, and whenever he had done wrong I would always say "Naughty!" a dozen times over, until at last I had only to whisper "Naughty!"—and down would go those ensigns in a moment. On the other hand, if I said "Good dog!" he was immediately on the alert, ears up, head cocked to one side, and tail wagging, ready for any kind of sport.
After he had learned to walk, I taught him to go slowly when I said "like a gentleman!" and quickly when I said "like a schoolboy!" To teach him these things required patience principally; but I found that to teach him some things taxed my ingenuity as well.
I wished him to speak both softly and loudly; but how to make him do it puzzled me. For Bob seldom barked except when engaged in uproarious play, and at such times he was not susceptible to instruction. One day, however, he had been playing with a little rubber ball, running after it and bringing it to me until I was tired, a condition in which he never seemed to be.
To stop the game I put my foot on the ball, and picked up a book to read. Bob waited a few moments to see what I was going to do, and finding I was not going to play, tried to push my foot away with his nose. Failing in that, he pulled with one paw. That also failed, and Bob was puzzled. He retired a few steps, placed his head between his forepaws on the floor and looked at me. I pretended not to see him, curious to know what he would do. He remained perfectly still for nearly a minute, and then, as if determined to attract my attention somehow, he barked.
There was my clew; I gave him the ball at once. In a few moments I again placed my foot on the ball, and waited until I saw he was about to bark, when I said, "Shout! Shout!" He barked, and I gave him the ball. I repeated this several times a day, and day after day, until he learned to bark whenever he wanted the ball and I said "Shout!" Then I made him shout for his meals, and finally, he would "shout" whenever I told him to do so.
