Lilly now has her own business cards to help promote the blog. The plan is to hand them out to people we meet on the street to help build readership. My husband says people will (and do) think I’m nuts, but I think it’s kind of cute. And, I think it will help people remember our blog. Here’s what they look like:
Last Sunday, Lilly had her best training day in months. She was spot on PERFECT. She worked hard at her advanced obedience class (not agility). She interacted nicely with a couple of strange dogs (through the fence at the dog park, but still!). She did not snark at one single dog.
I’m finally ready to try medications for Lilly’s anxiety. So, my big-picture trainer recommended a veterinary-behaviorist nearby. Scheduling put our appointment 3 weeks out, which was a bummer, but it’s a good thing I couldn’t get in right away because it turns out the cost is too high.
After writing about needing to break my dog-hugging habit last week, I took Ginko for his annual exam, which included doing bloodwork since he’s now 7 years old. Muzzled for safety, Ginko still required a fair amount of restraint, including a veterinary technician wrapping her arms around him … to secure the front leg for the blood draw — her chest on his shoulders, her arms around his chest.
Yesterday afternoon, I sat out on the back deck to re-read the final Harry Potter book. (I read it cover to cover on Saturday, but I always immediately re-read them.) Anyway, Ginko hung out with me in the shade since temps crept toward 100. Lilly, however, stayed in her usual spot out front, where she can see the entire valley. At one point, she made a noise, and Ginko sprinted to see what was up. But, he did not get far.
Recently, I watched two dogs get in quite a scrap during training when one tried to horn in on another’s food reward. Not long before the tussle, I watched one of the dogs greet another dog with a tense mouth, high tail, and I thought … “There’s a snark coming.” It didn’t, but then the tangle with a third dog came soon after. These are both situations that would likely set Lilly off, so I actively avoid them. Yet, when the scrap happened, no one else seemed too concerned. Maybe I just worry too much. In many such cases, I know a lot of people believe that “the dogs will work it out.”
My name is Roxanne, and I hug my dogs … a lot. After learning how much dogs hate hugs, I’ve tried to stop, but it’s very hard. Maybe we should form a support group.
Lilly slunk her way onto the training field and took up her position under the shade netting, against the fence. Her body, her face, her mouth looked fairly relaxed … at least from a distance. Up close, however, a different story . Her pupils dilated. Tiny, uncontrolled tremors. Heart racing. I pretty much knew she wouldn’t run any of the exercises, but I thought she might settle in and just watch. I was wrong.
Last Friday, I took Lilly to watch a 60 weave pole challenge. We sat way off to the side in the shade under a tree to keep her stress level as low as possible. As always, I clicked and treated her for staying calm, looking at other dogs without responding, etc. She did great, and yet … a competitor asked us a favor.
There are two kinds of fear. Fast fear and slow fear. (FYI – slow fear takes a whopping 24 milliseconds.) Either way, Lilly can react faster than I can even process what she’s seen or heard. Author Temple Grandin explains it like this: “The reason fast fear can be so fast is that accuracy is sacrificed for speed. Fast fear gives you a rough draft of reality.”
