It's a sad day when you realize your dog is smarter than you are.

That day, for me, was this past Sunday. As my friends who follow this blog will recall, we had an invisible dog fence installed a little over a week ago. We have been working diligently with both of our dogs to teach them the boundary that surrounds our entire yard, front and back. Cassie, the female, learned on day one that crossing the boundary was not worth the mild shock she got when she did so. Chester, our male dog, learned nothing on day one except that, for reasons unknown to him, he occasionally got knocked on his butt without warning or cause.  He has the "stubborn" dog collar, one designed for dogs who just can't seem to resist temptation. We had it dialed up to "5," the equivalent of the shock paddles they use in the ER for heart attack patients. He yelped so alarmingly when he'd forget and cross the boundary that we had pity on him and dialed it down to "2." Apparently, a "2" is the equivalent of eyelashes fluttering on your cheek.

As the days passed, however, they both avoided the white flags that mark the invisible boundary. In my simple human mind, that meant that they had learned that they should not cross the boundary at all, ever, for any reason.

Yesterday was a sunny, hot, early Spring day here in Atlanta. After church, my husband and I went to Home Depot, bought hundreds of dollars worth of flowers, vines, dirt and pots, and we spent the day planting flowers around our pool. We got the bright idea to leave the huge gate open that connects our back yard to the front yard. What a great opportunity to test Chesters' ability to stay within the boundaries of the yard! So we did; we left the gate open while we worked in the yard. Cassie obediently stayed near us and stalked a little lizard for hours on end. She's a bit OCD.

Chester gingerly took one step, then another, then another, looking surreptitiously over his shoulder to make sure he was out of reach of either of us. Then he took off like he was on fire and ran right through the "fence," never missing a beat, never even blinking. And of course he ran like he was training for the Olympics, zipping through one yard then the next, trying to meet as many of our neighbors as he could before the inevitable capture that always ended these little jaunts of his.

He made the mistake of running into our neighbor's fenced back yard, where of course my husband corraled him. I met up with them, hooked a leash onto Chester and led him back to our house, his head hung in shame. I cringed when we crossed back over the boundary, sure he was going slow enough now to really feel the jolt. When he stepped onto the line, he shivered a bit as though he had just gotten a brief chill. I could swear that he looked up at me and smiled, as if to say, "that didn't hurt."

Long story short, his collar is cranked back up to the dreaded "5" now. And somehow, I feel sure that he knows that.

I think we're home free with the training. I think.

Well friends, we are now 5 days into training our dogs to respect the yard boundary marked by an invisible dog fence. It's been a tense, grueling project, and at times I just wanted to say, "Oh forget it! Let them destroy all the flowers and veggies! They're just babies, and I can't take it any more!"

In reality, I guess it hasn't been that bad. Of course, I am a trainer, not a trainee. Our female dog, the timid, quiet, hyper-sensitive girl, had for a time decided that the safest approach was simply to not go outside at all. Ever. She is better now, a little braver, and I believe she has connected the white boundary flags with the "static correction" (aka SHOCK).

Our male, on the other hand, acts as though every day is his first day in training. He loves life, birds, butterflies, noises, wind....they all distract him. He also loves games, and he has discovered that if he goes outside and does his business in certain areas of the yard, he gets a scrumptious treat. I am giving them cheddar cheese, although my husband does not know that. Every time they do their business outside and do not get zapped by the fence, I give them cheese.

Of course the Catch 22 is that, if they keep eating cheese, they won't poop again until well after Memorial Day. Oh well. I can only worry about one thing at a time.

My dogs hate me.

Well maybe HATE is a little strong. They're too sweet for that. But they're mad at me, of that I am sure. You see, this past weekend in Atlanta was beautiful and sunny, perfect for those with spring fever to work outside getting the yard ready for outdoor living as only we in the South define it.

We have a beautiful front lawn, thanks to my talented husband. It is well manicured and, when temperatures permit, overflowing with dazzlingly colorful flowers. We have a  blue pool in the back, and that's about it. Our dogs pretty much rule the back yard. We are allowed to swim (because they are the only two golden retrievers on the planet who hate water), but they have the run of the place. Flowers and grass simply can not survive their 85+ lb. antics - wrestling, racing, digging, etc.

Now this year, I decided I was finally going to have my vegetable garden. Marc, always the perfectionist, built me a raised garden bed that could withstand hurricane force winds if tested. He filled it with rich, black dirt and Saturday, I planted my vegetables. On Saturday evening sometime, the dogs un-planted them for me. I guess the raised bed scented with chicken manure told them that we had built them their very own playground. That was it. I had had enough.

We have just installed an invisible pet fence. In fact we finished the installation yesterday, and it went "live" yesterday afternoon. We put the collars on our dogs (Chester's is the "stubborn" dog collar, meaning the "correction" will knock him on his 85-lb. doggie fanny should he cross the boundary). Cassie, the more timid of the two, would only need a good talking-to in order to stop her from crossing. And so the training began.

Cassie only got popped once, mildly, and I do believe she will never, EVER, even get too close to the boundary again. Chester has been popped about 8 times, each time jolting him pretty good, enough to make him run and jump into my arms the first time. That was a sight to see. He'll probably get it again, a time or two, because he just can't help himself. He is too excited about life and all its delights to worry about things like boundaries. I hope he gets it soon, though. I can't stand the thought of making either of them nervous, uncomfortable or jumpy.

Oh well, everything I read and everyone I talk to says to stick with the training, that they will get it. Right now, though, Cassie just stands right next to me, afraid to move, and she looks up at me like I have lost my ever-lovin' mind. Chester is nervous about going outside, but the occasional treats and praise are hard to resist. Still - they have changed. They are different somehow. They lie around the house  (right now, the only "safe" zone they know) and look at us like they've gotten a bum deal out of life. We have taken away the sheer pleasure of racing, kicking up sod and urinating on anything that blooms or looks new.

Wish us luck and steadfastness. I am a softie. I am already thinking to myself that, in order for me to have the pleasure of growing about $50 worth of veggies, we have spent about $1,000 and have cost our dogs their innocence.

Yeah, I think maybe they do hate me.