1st day of school

Hanging out at the Rose City Elementary School on the first morning after Labor Day is a fun way to give FLD Henry some "kid" exposure. Many of the kids remember me from when I brought FLDs Scout and Dutch to their classrooms. They are happy to meet my new puppy, and gracious about asking to pet him even when I tell them, Sorry, not today!

Two students ask me to take their picture with FLD Henry. I happily oblige.

FLD Henry winks at the camera as I take a quick photo of him with a new fifth-grader.

The school changed the bus drop-off to the other end of the parking lot, so FLD Henry and I walk over to see the kids disembark. A teacher standing nearby exclaims to the students, "Oh, look! She's got a new puppy!" The kids are all very good about waving "hi" and enter the school without engaging Henry.

One of the bus drivers steps down and spots us. "Oh puppy!" she squeals as she approaches, bending over as if she is going to scoop Henry up in her arms. Henry, I say. The little guy whips his head to me. With a quick YES I mark his attentive behavior. As I reach down to give it to him I ask the woman not to pet him.

She admonishes, "I've raised 12 of them, I know what's what!" She continues to coo at Henry from a foot or so away, leaning over with her hands on her knees. If she knows "what's what" I wonder why she is still carrying on.

Henry forgets about me and gets up from his sit. I call his name again but his leash tightens as he strains to greet her. I wait. He sits back down and looks back at me. YES I say again. He gets another treat. Now he's mine again.

"He is really focused on you," the woman says. "That's very good!"

 

With the distracting bus driver gone, FLD Henry sits nicely for a photo.

FLD Dutch goes 'shroomin'

I was honored.

The "mushroom queens" invited FLD Dutch and me on a morel mushroom hunt.

Unless you live in Northern Michigan, you might not understand the significance of the honor. Morel hunters guard their sacred grounds with their lives.

Stephanie, her mom Fran, her sister Yevette and her daughter Lilly, (and Yevette's friend Jay) didn't even ask me to wear a burlap bag over my head as we drove to their secret spot deep in the Huron National Forest.

That, my friends, is an honor.

Lilly gave us all handmade name tags as we grabbed our onion bags to head out into the woods. My tag read, "Morel Adams." Another honor--I guess she thinks I take a lot of photographs!

FLD Dutch sniffs out some fungi on an old log. Those aren't morels!

The evening was warm, the woods dry, the morels small and elusive. Stephanie said, "We just need a bit of rain for them to really pop."

Stephanie holds up a nice morel. Her mom, Fran is on the left with her onion bag, and Lilly is to the right. Lilly is an eagle-eyed morel hunter!

After three or four hours, the veteran crew had a fairly good take. This rookie found three.

My first two were a pair!

This one stuck out like a sore thumb! (sorry)

Here's some perspective for you on its size.

I admit I became distracted.

A yellow trout lily.

Trillium!

Wildflowers bloomed. Natural springs bubbled. The setting sun cast long shadows through the hazy-budding trees.

FLD Dutch laps a drink in a natural spring.

I said, The rate of reinforcement isn't high enough.

My comment would have been funnier amongst a group of dog trainers.

If the morels were as copious as the deer droppings that Dutch sniffed out, I might not have lost focus. 

Deer-doo hunter* FLD Dutch looks at the camera. "What?" he seems to be saying.

*Dont' worry, FLD Dutch got lots of practice with "leave it" during our hunt and his ingestion of said morsels was very limited.

Yesterday...tomorrow

Yesterday, Scout came with me on assignment for the last time. She was a big hit at the Ride for Gold, a Harley ride to benefit the Special Olympics.

FLD Scout sits while the riders get instructions. She got a bit nervous when a little boy in a big, blue motorcycle helmet ran over to pet her. I don't think she liked the giant mohawk that topped his helmet. He didn't really understand, but his mom coaxed him away and all was fine. FLD Scout was not nervous when the H.O.G.s fired up their machines and roared away.

This Special Olympian gets a nice greeting from FLD Scout.

TOMORROW, FLD Scout returns to Leader Dogs for the Blind to begin her formal guide-dog training.

*sigh*

dogspeed, Scout!

What's in our northern Michigan woods?

It was a dark and stormy night....

Oh, wait. That's a quote from another famous dog.

It was a grey and gloomy morning. Mist hung mysteriously over the treetops.

FLD Scout was on assignment with me, to cover the opening of the Bigfoot Bash at the Michigan Magazine Museum in Comins.

As we entered the museum, the participants who were already gathering for the welcome speeches let us know that Bigfoot "doesn't like dogs."

Once again, Scout's dreamy brown eyes wins one over.

FLD Scout looks back at me like she's thinking, "Really? He doesn't like dogs?"

We'll see about that.

Fire Fighters Take 2

Enter a large room where 20-some Leader Dogs for the Blind puppy-raisers with puppies (that range from 8-weeks to 1-year) are gathering and it quickly becomes a traffic jam. You open the door and people in front of you are walking backwards with their puppies, because, like your own puppy, they have forgotten all the rules about heeling nicely on a loose leash.

You face a conundrum. You must squeeze your puppy through, but you risk the deterioration of your effort in getting your puppy to NOT pull. You shorten your leash, suck it up, and barge your way in.

This evening, "in" is the fire truck garage at the Bay City Central Fire Station. There are at least two vehicles parked inside; I can't remember exactly because I am focusing on FLD Scout. The puppy-energy in the cement-floored building ricochets off the cavernous ceiling. Through the umbilical cord that we call a "leash," I feel Scout ramping up.

Scout looks worried.

Scout, heel, I say, and walk to the far end of the garage. I notice a pile of firefighter gear next to one of the trucks and ease Scout over. She hesitates. I'm sure she remembers our debacle at the Clare outing 10 days ago. (Read about Scout's fear behavior with the firemen on my post from April 9.)

Scout, sit, I say and follow up with a "stay" command. I take a step away. She leans a bit, but holds position.

FLD Scout holds her "sit/stay" next to fire boots and clothes.

When Phyllis brings FLD Autumn over, Scout relaxes and turns to sniff the boots. Without prompting, she eases into a "down." I'm not too concerned about this (she should hold the sit until released or given another command) because sliding down is typical behavior for her--that's a good sign she's getting comfortable.

FLD Autumn gives her buddy Scout some confidence.

FLD Scout takes a sniff.

She thinks it's okay.

Yep! Definitely okay. FLD Scout lays calmly by the gear.

Eventually, all the puppies settle (for the most part) after we use tools we've learned, like name recognition, redirection with commands, finger pokes, and "leave its."

We have a lot to accomplish in an hour and a half. Up and down stairs on a tour through the station, a chance to walk our puppies through an ambulance, loose leash heeling at a busy intersection, exposure to sirens and blasting horns, and (the coupe de grace for Scout), meeting fully-geared (with beeping, hissing air tanks) firemen.

All with the added distractions of the other puppies.

At the door of the ambulance, FLD Scout looks back as if saying, "What now?!"

FLD Scout jumps into the ambulance with no troubles, but is nervous about the long drop to the grated back step. After a few seconds of considering her plan of attack, she drops her front paws onto the bumper, decides it is okay, and pops the rest of the way down. Good girl, Scout!

Scout goes for the treat.

I'm pleased when FLD Scout is cautious, but curious, of the kneeling fireman. This time her tail is not tucked between her legs; she even manages a wag or two when I give him some treats to offer her. I let her hang around while other puppies get their loving from the men that look and sound like space invaders.

It's working! FLD Scout is getting over her fear!

Isn't this little pup adorable?

Tuesday's Training TIP: STAY

The STAY command is part of a normal range of obedience commands that I, as a puppy-raiser for Leader Dogs for the Blind, must teach my Future Leader Dog puppy.

Per Leader Dogs' "Puppy Manual," the goal for the STAY command is that my puppy will stay in position until released with an "okay." As part of our new "In-For-Training" (IFT) Standards, the STAY is assessed by me putting my puppy in a sit, down, or stand in the heel position; I then give a hand signal and the STAY command and step out in front of my puppy to the end of her leash. My puppy must hold her position for 30-60 seconds and afterwards while I return to her side.

Prior to raising Future Leader Dog puppies, I trained the STAY command a bit differently. Whenever I placed my dog into a specific position (like SIT), I considered the command to include an "implied" stay. Meaning, my dog was expected to hold that position until released, or until another command was given.

STAY meant something more.

When I told my dog to STAY, it meant that I was most likely going "out of sight," and that I might be gone for a while. My dog was expected to "settle" in for the long haul until I returned.

In a way, the Leader Dogs for the Blind requirement for STAY is easier to teach, because my puppy is not off-leash for the assessment.

Here is a long-ish video of me working with FLD Scout in a typical training "session." I spent almost 11 minutes overall with Scout in this session, in which I demonstrate how to begin teaching the Leader Dogs' STAY. Scout has learned this command prior to the video, so she makes the start of it look easy. In fact, as the video opens I ask Scout to STAY so I can put on her working jacket, not unlike what a blind handler would do when putting a harness on her Leader dog. (No, it is not necessary for my puppy to wear her jacket during training, but sometimes it helps to get her focused!)

Andy comes into view to take Gus and Gypsy outside just as I begin working with Scout--she is distracted, but it doesn't take long to get her focused.

Viewing a session like this is helpful in learning to be a better trainer. I can see instances when I transitioned from one command to another a bit quickly, for example; I'll need to slow my pace next time so as not to confuse Scout.

See if you can spot other things I did (properly, and maybe not so) in handling Scout!

HINTS FOR TRAINING STAY (or any other command)

• Plan a clear objective for your training session, introducing only one new command; in this case, I concentrated on "pushing" Scout with STAY since she already knew it a little.

• Warm up your puppy. Start with things your puppy knows to help get your puppy to focus on task. Use techniques such as NAME RECOGNITION and finger pokes to get your puppy's attention.

• Take your time. Give your puppy time to think and decide--count to "three-one-thousand" after giving a command.

• Say the command ONCE. If, after waiting a few seconds, your puppy isn't sure what to do, place your puppy into position. Do NOT repeat the command, that just teaches your puppy to wait for the third or fourth or fifth reiteration!

• If your puppy moves out of position, don't say anything, just physically put your puppy back.

• Don't overwhelm your puppy. Mix "old" commands your puppy knows with the new command you are teaching. Give your puppy a break by releasing her and praising her, then go back to work (Notice in the video I did not drop the leash with the "release.") If your puppy "got it" but starts to backtrack, you've probably worked your puppy too long. Go back to something your puppy knows and end the session on a positive.

• Make it fun for your puppy and she will be excited about learning--that means praising her for doing what you want! In the video you can see that I vary the intensity of my praise, and reward (and sometimes reassure) with physical contact.

OBSTACLES--Traffic Exposure When There is No Traffic

 

Cait Macanliss, over at Dogstar Academy is the host for the 6th Assistance Dog Blog Carnival (ADBC). The topic for this edition is OBSTACLES.

To learn more about the ADBC, or to find links to past editions, check out founder Sharon Wachsler's post on her blog, "After Gadget."

What follows is my submission.

Sometimes being aware of ones obstacles is the first step in overcoming them.

When we moved from the city to the country last year, I worried about being able to provide enough diverse experiences for my Future Leader Dog puppy. So, I purposefully made efforts to bring FLD Gus, my puppy at the time, to town at least once a week. Twice a month we also made trips to the city and FLD Gus continued to get exposure to crowds and traffic he didn't get up north.

Read my post from the 4th ADBC, "Living the Difference" and you'll see that I eventually calmed down about it all and continued raising Gus to the best of my abilities.

Enter FLD Scout, my fourth Leader Dogs for the Blind puppy. Scout shares the same mother as my second puppy, Mike, who went on to work with Eric, a young man from Spain. (Read my post from the 3rd ADBC, "REACTIONS: Meeting LD Mike's New Handler.") Funny how these posts seem so connected!

In spite of continued trips to the city, FLD Scout is the first puppy I'm raising while living full-time in the country. A rural lifestyle does create obstacles in exposing Scout to heavy traffic, an important aspect in raising a Future Leader Dog. Scout wasn't with us very long before I realized that she wasn't getting the experience she needed.

We were out on our driveway one morning in September practicing loose-leash walking, and I saw the neighbor-kid, Ryan, spinning around on his BMX bike while waiting for the school bus. I headed his way, always open to distraction opportunities.

Hi Ryan, I said as he skidded to a stop in front of us. FLD Scout froze, unsure. Scout, sit, I said to redirect her attention. Everything was new to her, so I helped her little butt to the pavement.

This is Scout, I said as I straightened up. Can you help me train her? Ryan agreed to ride slowly by a few times, keeping some distance until Scout learned that a boy on a squeaky bicycle was okay.

That strategy worked. After only a few pass-bys, Ryan was able to coast right up to Scout, his tennis shoes dragging. She leaned toward him with her investigating nose, but held her sit. Go ahead, you can pet her. Ryan leaned over too, and made fast friends.

I heard the school bus rumble round the corner a mile away at Wiltse Road and start laboring up the grade. Ryan sped off to drop his bike in his yard and hustled to grab his backpack that was lying against a tree.

Another opportunity! I heeled FLD Scout off to the side of the road, had her sit, and waited for the bus to arrive.

The bus groaned to a stop. Scout startled. As I bent over to reposition her back into a sit, the bus's air brakes let loose. Scout bolted in the opposite direction. When she hit the end of her leash she was like a snagged fish fighting to stay out of the boat.

Scout! Sit, I commanded, gathering up the leash. I had to put her in a sit. Good girl, Scout! She glanced up at me. Good girl! I said again and rewarded her name recognition with a bit of the puppy chow I always carry in my right pocket. She lost interest in the scary yellow monster, which had quieted to swallow Ryan.

Scout, heel, I said and walked further away from the bus before it roared back to life.

Here was an obvious obstacle. How was I to expose FLD Scout to heavy traffic when the school bus twice a day was about the extent of it on Brady Road?

Off to town we go!

We walked one block north, south, east, and west, crossing busy M-33 at the only traffic light as many times and from as many directions as we could. Then, for 20 minutes or so, I sat on the peeling paint of a weathered bench on the east side of M-33, just north of the light, with FLD Scout positioned in a sit beneath me. Tandem log-haulers, propane delivery trucks, and a steady stream of commercial freight transport vehicles rumbled by us north and south.

FLD Scout looks up at me as we pause to watch 18-wheelers thunder by us.

"You sure about this?" she seems to ask.

Before long, Scout relaxed into a down and seemed to enjoy the parade.

FLD looks south...

...and north at the passing truck parade.

FLD Scout takes traffic in stride, now. I still make sure to take her to town--in the last week she's been to the Post Office, doctor's office, and Big Bob's Restaurant in Hale, Glen's grocery store and the pharmacy in Rose City, and Home Depot, Wal-Mart, and Subway in West Branch.

Guess we're getting out and about more than I realized!

Four months later, FLD Scout is bored at the same peeling bench, this time accompanied by Phyllis and FLD Autumn.

Leaving it at the Cedar Bar

Living north is subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) changing our lives.

We can't get cable TV here, and we're not about to pay for the high cost of satellite TV (we already cut loose for satellite Internet, which is a small step above dial-up) just to have a gazillion channels to flip through to find nothing worth watching. The two channels (and sometimes three) that our roof antenna usually picks up are enough to blank out our minds in the evening.

But. It was New Year's Day and the Lions were playing Green Bay at Lambeau field.

So far my only regret in life is that I did not answer the call to shovel snow from Lambeau when Andy and I were there one Christmas a few years ago. No one in the family wanted to join me making $8/hour shoveling snow in the greatest stadium in the Midwest!

Now, don't misunderstand me. We are not football fans. (I just thought it would be fun to shovel snow out of that stadium...for money!)

After witnessing history being made in the form of a midnight ball drop the night before in West Branch (the nearest "big" town), it was a lazy day, perfect for lounging around and watching a game.

Except. We couldn't. No TV reception at all.

I'm not sure who said it. "Let's go over to the Cedar Bar and watch the game."

The Cedar Bar, with banner announcing that the "Kitchen is Open"

The Cedar Bar is exactly 1.5 miles from our house. Last year, the night before New Year's Eve, fire trucks from across the county sirened up our hill through the fog to put out a grease fire in their kitchen. While the 1930's wood building did not burn to the ground, it took over eight months to re-open, and four months longer for the newly built kitchen.

We don't frequent bars, but there is something about living north that makes having a neighborhood bar appealing. The log walls, the informal attitude, the place where locals hang out and gossip. Oh, and did I mention no smoking, $2 beers, and free freshly popped popcorn?

The warm ambience of the Cedar Bar's bar.

Off we went, FLD Scout in tow.

There was a crowd, at least a crowd for the Cedar Bar on a wintery Sunday afternoon, but we snatched a spot near the pool tables with a clear view of the TV hanging above the stone fireplace. The waitress, sporting knee-high winter boots, brought us beer, and a heaping basket of salty popcorn.

FLD Scout could have cared less when a group of fans across from us erupted into hoots and hollers at every other play. She lifted her head, but made no attempt to join in the fun.

FLD Scout was focused. On one lone kernel of popcorn lost under our table.

Good girl, Scout! I encouraged in between sips of beer when she looked, but didn't lunge. She was sneaky, and Marine-crawled on the slippery wood floor to work her way closer. I sat on her leash and whispered, Leave it. She backed off. Good girl!

FLD Scout peered and stared and try as she might, she could NOT levitate that kernel to her drooling chops. I was sure that by the end of the game her gaze would burn that kernel black.

The Lions lost, but FLD Scout scored big on treats for leaving that popcorn alone!

Tuesday's TRAINING TIP (on Thursday!): "What's that?!"

Elaina and Natalie made their way into Total Soccer before I could get FLD Scout's blue working jacket on. They each had a game at the indoor arena.

Elaina, aka "Beast," shakes it up during her game.

Natalie kicks the ball toward goal for an assist!

Scout easily heeled at my left side to the entrance, but as we passed into the space between the big double glass doors, she balked.

"Wooooof!" I couldn't tell if she was startled by her own reflection in the glass, or the toddler kicking a soccer ball around just inside.

Scout, sit, I said to get her attention back on me. I had to coax her with a finger tap above her tail.

Scout, heel, I said, once she was sitting and settled down. I opened the inner door. She stepped across the threshold with me and yipped a couple more times, overtaken by the yells and whistles coming from behind the two-boarded soccer fields to the right and left of us, and groups of youngsters bouncing balls while they waited for their own games to start.

Scout, settle, I commanded, this time with a finger poke to her side. She whipped her head around to look up at me, and strained forward against the leash.

I waited. 

When the tension on the leash relaxed, we went to find the girls.

Taking FLD Scout to her first indoor soccer game gave her good exposure to kids, noise, slippery metal bleachers, ball distractions, and the always-a-temptation public arena floor. She needed some reassurance negotiating the bleachers, but after the second time moving (we inadvertently sat with the opposition) she gained confidence.

An alert FLD Scout shows interest in soccer-arena activities.

IF YOUR PUPPY BALKS AND ACTS AFRAID

1. STAY CALM  Your reaction will travel through the leash to your puppy.

2. REDIRECT  Give your puppy a command to take her mind off whatever is scaring her. Use name recognition or a finger poke to refocus her attention to you.

3. GO SLOW  Don't overwhelm your puppy. Stay at a distance from the offending object until your puppy calms down. Turn the other way and approach again, stopping before your puppy acts nervous.

4. REWARD APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR  Don't forget to praise your puppy when she gathers her confidence!

It didn't take long for FLD Scout to settle down in the arena. She was very interested in the kids (and their soccer balls) who were waiting to play, but she was happy to hang out and observe instead of participating.

FLD Scout settles into a "down-stay" in the bleachers. She is tied to the rail while I take pictures.

Young John takes a seat next to FLD Scout...

...who can hardly contain herself to greet him! John did a remarkable job ignoring her, even though he was just as interested in her as she was of him.

Both girls' teams won their games! YAY!

Coyotes and Owls and...Bears? Oh my!

COYOTES

1:30 am. I dream of coyotes squalling under moonlight, but it's just Scout complaining from her mini-crate under the blind-covered window in our bedroom. I slip out from the warmth to find my jeans and flannel shirt that I strategically placed on the floor when we went to bed.

I lean against the dresser. Right leg in; now left. Wait. It's stuck. I teeter back onto the bed and match up the correct legs. Jeans on. If I put my shirt on backwards or inside out, no one will know.

It's dark, in spite of the moon. On my hands and knees I blindly feel for Scout's collar where I left it next to the crate. I've learned to leave it attached to her leash.

FLD Scout curled up in her mini-crate in the truck, on assignment with me.

I whisper, sit, hoping I will feel the fur ball as I open the door. No worry, it is all wiggles and licks and I curse the skinny collar buckle as I fumble to snap it on her. I'm awake enough now to trust myself to pick her up and find the back door.

Scout. Park, I say after putting her down on the arid ground. No rain tonight, even though the Milky Way is a cloud across the heavens. There is some advantage to these middle-of-the-night excursions.

In mid-park Scout alerts. A coyote chorus fills the southern darkness like a waterfall. Scout bolts for the back door. I reel her in and we pause together, until the song fades.

  

Blaine Bailer calls for coyote.

FLD Scout raises her head, briefly, when she hears the predator hunter make a coyote call at a Hunting 101 class in the Rifle River Rec Area. Does she know it's not for real?

OWLS

4:00 am. A repeat, sans coyotes. Although I manage to get my jeans on right at first try.

Scout finishes her "park" and sniffs while I crane my neck. It is still clear. The moon has dipped behind the trees. I don't know why I can never get enough of the night sky.

WHOOOOOOO, WHOOOOOO, WHOOOOOOOT!!!  A branch cracks beyond the black tree-wall ringing our yard. Scout hustles back to me and leaps up in desperation. I half expect to hear her yelp, "Pick me up! Pick me up! Hurry up, PICK ME UP!!!"

So. I do.

We listen a while longer until the pounding behind her ribs (that I feel against my chest) settles.

and BEARS?

An Ogemaw Voice assignment to the Besser Museum in Alpena. With permission, I tie Scout's Future Leader Dog bandana two times around her tiny neck, work her up the short flight of cement stairs, and enter the building. A room to our left holds stuffed wild animals in a central display, including a 600-pound black bear.

No big deal!

FLD Scout bounces around the exhibit at my side, sometimes needing a pat on my leg to get her attention away from whatever it is she smells on the floor. She takes no mind to the dead critters. Perhaps she knows.

I set her atop a bear-rug bench and she licks the back of the grimacing head.

FLD Scout licks the bear-rug bench.

Funny puppy, or maybe just a bit smart. She's afraid of howls in the night, but stuffed bears? Not.

Gypsy is comfy in our woods. FLD Scout looks over her shoulder. Just in case.

FLD Gus Goes Loony

I am definitely not a bird-killer, but if I have a chance to check off two things on my "to do" list at one time, I'll go ahead and throw that rock.

TO DO

1. Tire out FLD Gus.
2. Find a story to write about for the "Ogemaw Voice," our local paper published twice a month.  (I'm their new freelance writer/photographer covering the Rose City/Lupton area!)

THE STONE

Hike two miles through our woods to the beach area in the Rifle River Recreation Area (RRRA), interview "Explorer Elizabeth" and take a few pictures, hike two miles back through the woods home.

THE HIKE

FLD Gus was not interested in the patch of wild raspberries I found en route to the park, but was more than happy to sniff around whilst I nibbled.  As we emerged from the woods at the beach area, he pulled toward the water.  He gave it up when I walked us backwards back into the woods.  Several times.

THE INTERVIEW

FLD Gus reluctantly settled while I chatted with Explorer Elizabeth before her engaging presentation about loons.  (There are two nesting pairs in the park.)  Born and raised in Mio, Elizabeth's summer job is hosting Michigan's DNR "Exploring Nature Programs" at RRRA.  Her topic this day was "Feeling Loony."

Explorer Elizabeth, dressed like a loon, posing with her stuffed loon.

FLD Gus was not interested in the stuffed loon Elizabeth displayed on a picnic table next to the beach, and he did not react when she played the loon's call on her "Birdsong Identiflyer."  He was not perturbed when wayward bubbles from a nearby youngster went floating by in front of him.  Gus did perk up at a Jack Russell Terrier that was dragging its owner past us, but he didn't break his position.  And when Elizabeth played "loon tag" with her young audience, Gus didn't even seem to notice.

FLD Gus looking over his shoulder at the swimmers and not taking notice of bubbles floating by him.

What FLD Gus WAS interested in was the kids splashing in the water.  When he thought I wasn't paying attention, he leapt up and tried to join them.

I was ready and he did not.

He tried whining.  Gus wailed so much during Elizabeth's talk it sounded like he was calling the loons!  When whining didn't work, Gus took to barking.  Time for redirection.  Name recognition would not be enough--the distraction was too great.

I moved myself in front of Gus to obstruct his view of the swimmers and commanded him into a DOWN.  I had to physically put him into the DOWN as he tried to look around me, but when I immediately gave him a command to SIT, he turned his focus to me.  And sat!  I was making progress.  Gus, down, I said.  This time he went down on his own.  A finger-poke or two later and he regained his self-control.

FLD Gus, turning his attention back to me

THE RESULT

My two-for-one plan turned out to be more productive than I had hoped.  I got my story and FLD Gus got tired out, but I also learned some things about loons.

And Gus practiced self-control with some pretty big distractions!

A lone loon floating on Grousehaven Lake.