Dog School Gone Wrong… 🎓🐶🤯
When I signed Teddy and Roo up for dog school, I had high hopes. Visions of perfectly behaved pups walking politely on leashes, responding to commands like pros, maybe even showing off a few fancy tricks. I imagined graduation caps, cute certificates, and proud-parent tears.
Reality? Let’s just say… dog school went very, very wrong.
It started off okay. Day one: both dogs had their little backpacks, wagging their tails like excited kindergartners. Teddy looked like he was ready to lead the class. Roo? She was more interested in chewing her own leash—but still, I believed in them.
First command: sit.
Roo rolled over.
Teddy sat… on another dog.
Second command: stay.
Roo stayed for 0.5 seconds—then bolted across the field because someone opened a snack bag. Teddy? He stayed—well, technically—because he laid down and refused to move for the next 10 minutes.
Then came “group walk” time. Chaos. Leashes tangled. Dogs barking. Teddy tried to lead the pack like a golden Napoleon, dragging me through the mud. Roo decided to take a shortcut—through the flower beds. We were that family. The one other owners smiled at sympathetically while slowly backing away.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, they called for “puppy recall”—that moment where you let go of the leash, call your dog’s name, and they run lovingly into your arms.
Teddy? Heard his name, made eye contact, then turned and ran the other way. Roo followed, thinking it was a game. They sprinted around the training field like they were in the Indy 500. I had to bribe them back with chicken nuggets.
By the end, the instructor said, “Well… they have personality!” Which, I’m pretty sure, is dog school code for “good luck.”
So yeah… dog school went wrong.
But honestly?
I laughed the whole way home.
Because trained or not, I wouldn’t trade their goofy, rebellious little hearts for anything.
