Proof That Overscheduled Modern Life Isn?t Fit For A Dog

EARLY one recent Saturday morning, Steffi woke me with another uninvited lick on the lips. I rolled over, but it was no use. She pawed across the pillows, licking my neck. My wife, Alison, was still fast asleep. I noticed that our 10-year-old son, Harrison, had wandered in from his room during the night. Steffi noticed the same thing, and promptly assaulted him with her tongue.

Oh, no, its the Licker Monster! Harrison groaned, burrowing under the covers.

I grabbed Steffi with both hands, nuzzling her nose with mine. Steffi is a tricolor King Charles spaniel, an archetypal lap dog and love sponge, barely a foot high and no more than 10 pounds. She has a silky black and white coat, and strips of tan fur on either side of her forehead that look like eyebrows.

Yes, yes, yes, girl, I cooed.

I tumbled out of bed to fetch breakfast, feeling blessed that our family has such an adorable and adoring canine companion.

My rapture erupted into rage the moment I passed through the living room. In a cozy spot between the couch and the fireplace, Steffi had left a little present, the kind of present I would have to clean up in the immediate future. Worse, this was not the first such deposit, but the umpteenth.

Damn it, Steffi! I hollered.

Steffi, of course, didnt hear me — she was still upstairs licking my wife awake.

I marched back to the bedroom, seething, and announced that I was embarking on an urgent executive pursuit. At age 4, Steffi was too old to be soiling the living room floor. At age 56, I was too old to keep cleaning up after her. Im going to find a qualified dog trainer who can housebreak her, I said.

Can they make her stop being a Licker Monster, too? Harrison asked.

Steffis hopeless, Alison sighed. You cant teach an old dog new tricks.

Undaunted, I contacted Steffis veterinarian. He recommended two dog trainers. One was a man with a reputation for being rather strict. The other was a woman known for being exceptionally gentle. Harrison suggested that we audition both. So I booked Mr. Strict and Ms. Gentle for separate days the following weekend.

In the meantime, I immersed myself in doggie due diligence. The 2007-8 National Pet Owners Survey by the American Pet Products Manufacturers Association estimates that there are 44.8 million dogs in the United States, or roughly one for every 6.8 humans. All told, the owners of dogs, cats and other household pets spend over $38 billion annually on food, veterinary care, supplies, boarding and grooming.

There are three main types of canine behavior professionals, according to the Web site of the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. A handful of board-certified veterinary behaviorists conduct medical tests to rule out physical sources of problem behaviors and prescribe drug therapies if needed. There are several dozen board-certified applied animal behaviorists who specialize in solving phobias and aggression.

And then there are the countless numbers of people who engage in dog training, which remains an unlicensed profession in most states. In 2001, the Association of Pet Dog Trainers, which claims 5,000 members worldwide, helped form a certification council. Applicants can acquire a Certified Professional Dog Trainer credential by passing an exam covering topics ranging from canine educational theory to training equipment.

The dog trainer we called Mr. Strict proved to be pretty gentle. Although he was not board-certified, Mr. Strict said he had over 25 years of experience, including 15 years as a consultant for the Animal Rescue Fund. His main training tools were some semi-moist doggy treats and a leash. His fee was $125 per hour plus New York State sales tax.

Mr. Strict taught Steffi to obey a series of basic sit, sit-stay, and down-stay commands in less than half an hour. He began each training exercise by calling out Steffis name, and then accompanied his verbal command with a specific hand signal. When Steffi obeyed, he rewarded her with a treat, a pat on the back and approving words. When she failed to obey, he told her Steffi, no, withheld the treat, and then started the exercise over again.

E-mail: pursuits@nytimes.com.

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