I have two dogs, a sweet one and a grumpy one. I'm the first to admit that Grumpy needs work on his manners. He likes to knock things over with his butt, and he gets greedy about toys and bones. But Sweet has played at parks and kennels all over Ann Arbor, and she's never bared a tooth at another dog. So, I thought she might like BreedAbove. I'd read about it online, and although it seemed pricey ($25 for four hours of play), it's much closer to my house than Camp BowWow ($15 for six hours). I filled out a three-page questionnaire and took Sweet in to BreedAbove for a temperament test.
All of the workers there wore blue lab coats. One of them immediately whisked Sweet away. (Sweet seemed uncertain. Who was this person? Where were they going?) Then another worker approached me with a clipboard, took my paperwork, and asked me many of the questions I'd already answered in the paperwork. They told me the test would take about four hours. I browsed the lobby--two white leather couches, displays of gourmet dog food, and doggy clothes available for purchase--and left.
When I went back to pick up Sweet, I was asked to have a seat on one of the couches. Then, three blue-coated workers entered the room and sat with me to discuss my dog. The one who did most of the talking--a trainer--told me that Sweet seemed like a good dog, but that she'd need some private lessons if she were to be allowed at their "day stay" program.
"Really?" I asked. This was a surprise. Sweet hasn't ever had a conflict with another dog. Once, when she saw two dogs fighting at a park, she trotted over and sat next to me, as if to say, "That looks dangerous."
But the trainer told me that Sweet needs to work on her greetings. "She greets like a puppy," the trainer said.
"She is a puppy," I said.
"Yes, but she needs to learn to greet like a mature dog," said the trainer.
"She's a puppy who greets like a puppy?" I asked.
"Right."
"Is it the case that when she grows into a mature dog, she will greet like a mature dog?"
"No," said the trainer. "They greet how they greet. If she isn't taught to greet like a mature dog, she won't learn to greet like a mature dog."
"Well," I asked, "How does she do it now?"
"You know," said the trainer. "She starts right in on the playing. She's all like, 'ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya!'"
I have never heard Sweet go "ya-ya-ya-ya-ya."
"Did she really make that noise?" I asked.
"Well, no," said the trainer.
She went on to explain that Sweet doesn't let other dogs sniff her butt. And that's a problem, "because someday she might not allow a dog to sniff her butt, and that dog will think she's being rude, and that dog will attack."
Here's what I wish I had asked: "Shouldn't BreedAbove use its training resources to teach easily offended dogs not to attack my easygoing one?"
But I was so flummoxed that I just asked what they recommended for Sweet, my poor girl, who had clearly missed a rung on the evolutionary ladder.
They said Sweet would need one-on-one instruction from a trainer who was "focused solely on her" during the daycare program. I asked how much something like this would cost, and I was given a glossy pamphlet.
Thirty-five dollars an hour.
I kid you not. For $35 an hour, Sweet could learn proper butt-sniffing etiquette, something I'd thought--foolishly!--she'd figure out on her own, since she's, you know, a dog.
Now, someone from BreedAbove might respond to this review, and of course they might be right about the whole butt thing. They're the dog experts. But they can't dispute that we had this conversation. They did not tell me that my dog was aggressive, or that she didn't play well with other dogs, or that she behaved badly. They sat me on white leather and engaged me in the conversation I've detailed above.
And it was one of the stupidest conversations I've had in my whole life.
BreedAbove is too pricey and too precious for me and my dog. It's perfect for people who dress their dogs in little rompers, and for people who like to set money on fire and watch it burn. read more