So when Ozzie died and I got Callie, I made an agreement with myself that I would have a well-behaved, well-mannered dog, who wouldn't get on the furniture, sleep on the bed, or jump on people, or express any other bad dog behavior. Here's an example of how it's worked out for me:
Callie laying on one of my footstools while I'm watching a movie.
Callie posing for the camera while sitting on my footstool. She likes having her picture taken. She's not sure what's happening, but as long as it's all about her, she's okay.
Abbie laying on the floor in front of my dresser (yes, Tony, she is fat!) because:
Callie is laying on the bed in roughly Abbie's spot. This is the new comforter I got after Ozzie died, which is why I don't want Callie on the bed. I don't want her to ruin my great new spread.
Someone I know expressed an interest in getting a dog. What I said to him is that no matter what, get a dog trainer. The trainer isn't for the dog, it's for the owner. Here is proof positive. Left to my own devices, I am inconsistent, lenient, spoiling and putty in her paws. She has me trained well. I have to say she is very efficient. This only took her a couple of days to teach me. But I have to say, I've always been a good student. I'll be calling a dog trainer today.