Lynne Fedorick, CPDT-KA 

Dog Trainer, Behaviour Consultant and Performer 

Go Dog Go! Dog Training 

About your pet: 

Name: Fabulous Earl and Jolene 

Nickname: Earl and Jolene  

Breed: German Shorthaired Pointer/ Pointer 

Age: 11 and 5 

FavouriteActivity: Playing Piano/Jumping Rope 

Favourite place to sleep: Snuggled under the covers 

Food of Choice:  Spaghetti and meatballs/Canned dog food 

Snack he/she goes crazy for: Bread/Canned dog food 

Most beloved thing he/she has destroyed: My ability to stretch out in my bed 

Do you dress them up (alternatively Best Halloween Costume): Absolutely! 

Do you take your pet to work? Every day 

Bestquality: Earl points with his paw at things he wants/  Jolene is really Cute 

Worstquality:  Earl points at everything he wants/ Jolene steals hearts 

Your favourite pet story:   

I have 5 little goats who have refused to be trapped within the confines of a half acre pasture for the 8 years that I’ve had them .  After a lot of careful planning and even more hard work, I finally finished goat proofing the pasture last week.  Now, the matron of my little herd, is a hornless, round, old black pygmy goat named Maizy Pickles. Maizy watched me carefully as I completed hanging the last section of goat proof fence wire.  Maizy’s life experience taught her a few things and she seemed very obviously wise to the fact once that last 100 foot section was enclosed in wire, the herd would be imprisoned forever.  As I was banging the last of the barbed, 2 inch staples into the last heavy duty fencepost, Maizy led her herd far away from the goat pasture.  

Luckily, goats are suckers for good grain, and I easily coaxed  3 of the youngest goats into the new pasture with a bucket of grain.  However, Maizy Pickles and her big, gazelle looking momma’s boy, Gherkin, were not having any of this ploy. The two ran around outside the entire perimeter of the pasture fence, calling desperately to the youngsters trapped within while they checked frantically for a place for the “kids” to break out and join them. The noise both groups of goats made turned the pastoral quiet of the farm into an enormous, screaming conversation of frantic bleats.  There was no way Momma was going to lead her son into the trap.  The renegade and her son deftly avoided my every attempt to coax, capture or herd or them into the field. 

What I really needed was a herding dog. Now, I don’t have a border collie. But I do have Fabulous Earl.  Earl might not be a Border Collie but he has learned the ins and outs of basic herding during
his 7 years with the goats and I. So, I brought him out and with some basic commands, my favorite German Shorthaired Pointer quickly and skillfully got all the goats corralled in their new pen before they knew it. Earl sucks at pointing birds, but he herds like a boss. 

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