Champion of My HeartA dog blog, where everything is a work in progress, by Roxanne Hawn

When we told the physical therapists working with Tom’s mom about Lilly being able to roll a therapy ball around like a circus dog, they were excited to see it. So, on Monday, we took Lilly down to the residential physical therapy place so that she could visit her Grandma, see some of the residents, and show off. It went really well.

Lilly was a little excited and nervous. She tends to be less focused when Tom goes with us anywhere. She is so used to training and even being out in the world as a two-girl-only event. She works hard to give both of us her attention (as noted before in the Daddy Factor), and that makes my job as handler MUCH harder.

But, she settled down, and I think she had a good time. She showed off her various tricks, including:

• Roll It
• Shake & Other Hand
• Under-Leg Weaving

She let several people pet her, even though she isn’t one of those pet-me, pet-me kind of dogs. Some of people seemed sad to be at the facility and away from their own dogs, so her visit perked them up. (For privacy reasons, I did NOT take photos that show any of the people in therapy.)

She had no real issues with the walkers, canes, and wheelchairs. There were may be 10-12 people in the room — some coming and going, all moving in some fashion as they did their therapy. A couple times, someone even slammed a metal laundry lid, and Lilly handled it OK. She startled, but she was OK. She truly did remarkably well.

I think it helped that the double, automatic front doors here (compared to those at the facility where my mom lives) open side-to-side, which is something we’ve conditioned much more.

After therapy, Lilly had to navigate the crowded halls. It wasn’t her best WALK STEADY moment, but she didn’t make a scene.

She even got so comfy on Grandma’s bed that she sacked out. Of course, as soon as she heard the camera click on, she woke up, but you can see her little drool spot on the bedspread.

The only thing that made her bark was when one of the nursing assistants came in to check Grandma’s vitals. She was pulling along one of those rolling blood pressure machines, and the wheels sounded a bit like a skateboard.

We later heard that Lilly’s visit was the bit talk among facility residents for the rest of the day.

Last week, I decided to try a friend’s dog bathing strategy of taking Lilly into the shower with me. That’s probably TMI. Yes? Well, it worked remarkably well. (No photos, of course.)

I’ve never done it before because we had a powerful shower head, but Tom recently replaced it with one that has a broad, gentle … and more importantly, quiet… spray.

I thought Lilly might like it, and (as you’ll see tomorrow) she had an outing planned that required her to be princess girl, rather than dirty mountain girl.

Since my other bath-time ploys have fizzled out, I’m not sure it’ll ever work again, but she took to being in such an enclosed space with water pouring down on her pretty well.

I blocked the spray while shampooing her. I stood her up on her hind legs and spun her around for a rinse.

I toweled her off the best I could, then asked her to just hang out in our shower room, which is a subset of the master bathroom, while I took my shower. She curled up on her towel next to the radiator, and that was that.

I’d NEVER try this with Ginko because he would surely cause bodily harm.

So, you’ve seen those t-shirts and such that say things like “I kiss my dog” or “Sleeps with Dogs.” I guess we’re now part of the crowd that “Showers with Dogs.”

Last Friday on Twitter, I posted a Mini-Rant that prompted a few people to ask what on earth had happened. There is NO way to tell that particular story in 140 characters, so here is the full-sized rant.

It’s no secret that I’m a fan of well-planned dog training that takes place in a relatively controlled setting so that we afford our dogs every opportunity to succeed. These scenarios form the critical foundation for the behavior modification work Lilly and I undertook all these years ago.

However, I am also pragmatic, and I understand that training in the “real world” remains both important and useful.

Indeed, I often use (or am forced to use) myriad of scary realities, including encounters with other dogs, as training fodder as Lilly makes her way in the world.

For example, when we go for walks and dogs race out to their fence lines or property lines to bark and jump and make scene (which all the dogs up here do, including mine), I work to counter-condition those moments (with food) so that Lilly is less afraid and can cope with the noise and proximity of other dogs.

I typically cross the road (or get as much space as possible between her and the barking dogs). I hustle Lilly along with purpose and a certain speed so that the encounter is as brief as I can make it. I put myself between her and the other dogs, and we work hard to appear as non-threatening as possible.

While I’m tending to my sensitive and fearful girl, I take into account the other dogs’ behavior. I do not talk to them. I do not look at them. I tip my shoulders away from them, and … again … I give them some space (by crossing the road with Lilly). In other words, I do my best not to make things worse for any of the dogs in the encounter.

So, last Friday, when I saw some guy I’ve never seen, with two dogs I’ve never seen, spend a good 10-15 minutes standing on the road right above our fence while Lilly and Ginko flipped out, I was pissed.

While cleaning house, I kept an eye on my two monkeys out various windows. I actually saw this guy and his dogs coming up the road, so I immediately went out to round mine up:

a) because I really don’t want Ginko hurting his knees jumping and running around

b) because I don’t want Lilly getting all stressed out

c) because I do my best to keep the dogs from getting the chance to practice this particular behavior (I want them to see dogs and think, “Where’s Mom with the food or toy?”)

I grabbed a squeaky toy and high-value treats and made my approach. My goal? To get them away from the fence and as close to me and engaged with me as I could before the guy and his dogs got to our house.

No luck.

So, I got closer and closer until Ginko, at least, could hear me and respond.

It’s something Gigi teaches, where you cannot just stand in one spot and holler at your dog to COME despite the distraction.

When I got Ginko to move toward me, and he realized I had the REALLY GOOD treats, getting him back to the house was pretty simple.

At this point, Captain Brilliant is standing right there at our fence, while Lilly barks and leaps and generally freaks out that he AND his two dogs are basically staring at her. Full-on, frontal facing, staring at her while she has a fit.

I’ve already gone out and back and out again on our long-ass driveway, so several minutes have passed, but I literally have to walk all the way up to Lilly at the fence before she calms down enough to “hear” me.

Once she does, she follows me back toward the house without issue.

I say to the guy that I’m sorry my dogs caused a scene, and I kid you NOT, he replied, “That’s OK. I’m using them to train my dogs.”

Really, I do NOT mind people using my dogs in real time to do a little training, but … seriously … standing there and baiting my dogs to misbehave so that you can teach your dogs God knows what? C’mon, man!

What? Did you attend the Jack Ass Academy for Canine Drama?

Clearly, they were barking at YOU, so how about you move you on down, move on down the road?

Thanks to diligence on my part, Lilly is MUCH better about the toenail thing than Ginko. I take the tiniest bit off of each of her nails once a week, both so that they don’t get too long and so that she never gets out of practice with this grooming task. We jokingly call it Turkey for Toenails, but most times I use cheese instead. One toe, one hunk of cheese. It’s a good trade.

For comparison, I offer this photographic evidence of the difference between weekly nail trims and the more like quarterly pedicure smackdowns I have with Ginko over his toes.

Ginko                                                                Lilly

Truth in Adversiting: I am not perfect, however, in my execution of these dog mom duties. This shows Lilly’s foot before her latest trim over the weekend.

This is immediately afterwards. I cut one too short, and it bled. She is such a good girl for putting up with my mistakes.

During the long, cold, snowy winters, it’s hard to find a good time for a real deep-soaking, heavy-sudsing bath. So, we sometimes resort to the famous “snowbath.” Observe.

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It’s been a couple of months since we got our Therapaws mat from Soar Pet Products as an experiment for Ginko’s arthritis. Since he had a major swelling/pain flair up right after New Year’s Eve, I’m not sure we’ve had the chance to give it any kind of quasi-scientific go.

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I shot a little video earlier this week of Lilly and Ginko playing chase and jaw wrestling games. For those who know Lilly’s noisy play style and stunted social skills, I’ll ask you to pay attention to how quiet this particular play session is. Ginko does many things to ensure Lilly continues to play, which is very smart and polite of him, I think.

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Saturday, I caught up on my dog grooming duties. Most weeks that means Lilly and only Lilly, but I decided I’d attempt to trim Ginko’s front toenails. With a muzzle and enough cheese, I can occasionally get him to cooperate. Just as I imagined myself drafting a victory blog post, our celebratory dog training jackpot went terribly wrong.

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Some days, my brain buzzes with larger, more philosophical sides to dog training. In part, this happens because of items I see in dog world news such as this dog training summit. At some point soon, I may rant a bit on that very topic since I’m not shy about the fact that I’m no fan of “He Who Shall Not Be Named.” But, today, I wanted to share a distinction I think will help.

Answer me this: When your dog responds to cues or offers default behaviors or just generally behaves like a civilized canine citizen, do you feel a sense of power or pride?

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Based on discussions with my dog writer & dog blogger friends, I’ve began to wonder … just how many dogs does it take before you (or anyone) truly knows anything about anything when it comes to dogs.

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