I’m surprised that I haven’t told this story but I did a search and couldn’t find anything. I also tried to find an article to link to, but can’t find one. You’ll just have to take my word that this is a true story. It’s also very sad; if you’re already blue, you might wanna skip this.
My dog Crease is clicker trained; I use a clicker (or clicking sound with my mouth) to positively reinforce my dog’s behavior. She’s better behaved and knows a bunch of tricks, all thanks to this method, a woman named Beth and a black Lab named Gwennie.
When Crease was tiny I took her to a puppy socialization class led by Beth. From there we progressed to Beginner Clicker Training and Intermediate Clicker Training. Those two classes were taught by Beth and Gwennie. Gwennie was amazing. She loved to “work” and did trick after trick after trick, acting as an example for the dogs in the class to follow. One of her best tricks was called “Bang!” Beth would point her finger like a gun at Gwennie and say, “Bang!” Gwennie would immediately lie on her side, perfectly still but for her tail. Such a sweet, happy dog; she couldn’t help wagging.
Crease learned to heel, to lie down, sit, stay, “Sit Pretty,” and roll over from Gwennie’s examples. She had a really tough time with “Bang!” but finally did get it, months after the intermediate class was over.
One day in the summer of 2001, I was driving around town doing errands and listening to the news station when I heard the terrible news. The night before, Gwennie had been shot and killed by St. Paul marshals. I had to stop the car to sob.
Later that week, I heard the whole story from another clicker training student, a friend of mine but closer friend of Beth’s.
Beth, her husband and their three kids live in a part of St. Paul that is known for drug dealing and prostitution. Beth was out of town. Her husband Tom and their kids were on their way to run some errands and take Gwennie to the vet for a checkup. Everyone was in the backyard when Tom heard Gwennie barking furiously around the side of the house. As he rushed around the corner to see what was happening, he saw a marshal shoot Gwennie. She collapsed. Tom called her name. She got up slowly and stumbled to Tom, dying at his feet.
It seems the marshals had the wrong address.
So does this qualify as irony? Or merely a sad coincidence that her best trick was “Bang!” and she was shot to death…
Bah. I’ve got the cold weather blues; telling this story didn’t help my mood.
