Food Refusal for a Food Shark

From the time he was very, small, Novel has been known as quite the food shark. Needless to say, he does NOT generally take food gently. He is capable of it if you insist, but if you do not insist, the food shark becomes more and more "Jaws"-like in his eating habits, putting food-bearing digits in grave danger.

Novel's food fetish only increases during meal times. As he sits politely waiting for his food two times each day, huge streams of drool descend from his lips and rest in ever increasing puddles on the linoleum on either side of him. When Novel was young, I quickly discovered that I needed a larger bowl so that the kibble would spread out across the bottom, thus making it impossible for him to try to swallow too much with one scoop of his mouth. Thankfully, as he got older, he seemed to realize that slowing down with his meals ever so slightly does not automatically result in their removal.

Anyway, all this to say that teaching Novel food refusal - that is, teaching him to resist the urge to eat anything and everything he sees - has been just a bit of a challenge. However, Novel has recently had some very successful encounters with this particular challenge, and so I have to brag just a little.

The first example occurred in Anatomy and Physiology class. Just before my professor began his lecture, I dropped a piece of kibble. It just rolled over the edge of my desk and hopped to the floor right in front of Novel's nose. It stopped only about 2 feet from my foot, but because of the way the horrid, uncomfortable desks are designed and set up in rows, I could not reach it for the life of me, either by leaning over and reaching my with my hand, or by twisting and stretching my foot in an attempt to pull it a little closer. By this time, my professor was already talking, so getting up and walking all the way around to the next row to pick up a piece of dog food wasn't exactly an option. Novel, on the other hand, who was doing an "under" beneath my desk, could have reached it with perfect ease. He did, in fact scoot himself forward to smell it. Now, I would be exaggerating here if I said he chose to leave it on his own. When I saw him scooting forward, I gave a small leash correction and told him "don't." He promptly laid his head on his paws and fell asleep for the rest of the class. And I was thrilled.

Another example happened the other day at breakfast. As I began to set his bowl full of food down in front of him, I somehow dropped it, and food went flying everywhere, the metal bowl clattering to the ground with quite a commotion. Surprised by the crash, and upon being pelted with so many Kibble-missiles, Novel broke his sit and jumped to his feet. Before I could respond with a "no" or "don't," Novel checked himself and looking bewilderingly at the food surrounding him, he sat back down. I am quite sure that the angels in heaven rejoiced with me in heavenly song at that moment. After cleaning up the mess by simply scooping the food on the floor back into his bowl, Novel enjoyed his meal without further incident.

Novel's very short conversation

The mall was relatively empty as a middle aged man and his two young children browsed through Dick's Sporting Goods. The boy, blond haired, blue eyed and about 6 years old, teased his sister as they moved through the isles, so it came as no surprise to her when he called out "Look! a dog!" She rolled her eyes and shot back "nah ah! Dog's aren't allowed in stores." In reply, he simply shrugged his shoulders and stared into the next isle. As she caught up to him and rounded the bend, she jumped back in surprise.

There, directly in front of her, was a dog. It was a large, black dog gazing at her with a calm, but happy expression on his face. His tail broomed the floor as the girl and her brother continued to stare. After a quick consult with dad, the girl stepped forward bravely and asked very politely: "May we pet your dog?"

"Sure" I replied smiling. The kids got down on the floor and commenced rubbing Novel all over. He flopped onto his side in bliss, his tail continuing to thump a happy tune. He wouldn't normally be this calm, but he had just finished a vigorous play session with his buddy - a huge, young rottweiler - and I knew he was worn out. Getting in lots of polite greetings today was one of my goals while he was tired enough to behave.

The kids thanked me and scampered off to dad. I looked down at Novel. His tail was still thumping slowly while the rest of his body lay motionless and completely relaxed, tongue lolling on the floor. His eyeballs turned to look up at me.

"Whadaya say buddy? You ready to go? C'mon - Let's go!" He jumped up and off we went to finish our shopping. As we moved through the mall, past all the cooing, chirping, clucking, whistling and smiling people, through the food court, up the elevator, and past the security guards, Novel was still too tired to do anything but walk calmly at my side and try to keep his eyes on me in the hopes of extracting some kibble...even when the elevator jerked and bumped more than usual, making even me a little uneasy.

We continued on to JCPenny - the same one where we were accosted by the barking "service dog" - but we met with no such distraction this time. Instead, we were met by a nice clerk who, from the other side of a clothing rack, asked if she could help us (me) with anything. I had replied that no, I was fine, and started to move forward again when she spotted Novel.

"Ohh how sweet!" She said, staring. "He is adorable! He's so good he just lays there! My dog would be all over the place and into everything. Can I pet him?"
"Sure, as long as he holds his sit."
And she proceeded to lean forward and reach out a slightly hesitant hand to touch his head and shoulders.

"Novel, can you shake?" I asked. She had already stepped back, but Novel reached out his paw and waved it in thin air, encouragingly. Grinning, she reached slightly forward, but not enough, and Novel's paw hit the ground. I asked him to shake again, and again, his paw searched the air for her hesitant hand and missed. Finally, the clerk seemed to get a hold of her nerves and confidently stuck her hand forward. "Shake!" She asked Novel.

Immediately, Novel let out a single, very deep, very loud, big boy bark. "Wuooof!" And sat wiggling the tip of his tail.

Eep. This was a new kind of embarrassment.

The clerk jumped back and began stammering  "Ok...that was loud...I'm sorry...I didn't mean 'speak'...I guess you can speak..." etc.
I quickly circled Novel's muzzle with my hand and told him "NO, quiet!" He looked at me apologetically.

And that was the end of it. For the first time in his life, Novel barked in public.