Today, Ginko goes under for his third knee surgery in his 10 years. Surgeons sawed apart and screwed each knee back together (a procedure called TPLO) at age 3. Due to increasing problems with his right knee, they’ll take that hardware out in hopes of solving his pain issues. Last week, even with two different…
Did I mention that nonstop stress greatly lowers my tolerance for baloney? Well, here is another rant, inspired by the mountain bikers who nearly ran me and Lilly over on a hike recently.
One day last week after dinner, the dogs and I wandered around the upper pasture so that they could get some supervised time outside. This summer’s rattlesnake encounters mean they get little to no time outside alone. Everything was going great, until the @#$@ FedEx guy pulled up and did about the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.
Ginko is a doggone, five-star, full-fledged HERO! This morning, he protected Lilly from a rattlesnake coiled and ready to strike mere feet from the back of the house. I’m still shaking, and it’s been a few hours since it happened.
I know. I know. The headline ONLY works if I’m actually updating you every week on our dog training progress. But, I’ve already reported this week on a couple breakthroughs with the scary kitchen window and the thing about NOT coming inside only in the summer, only at night. So, today … just a quick note about Lilly’s first trip to the Farmer’s Market this summer.
While we’re on a roll, let me add that we seem to have overcome Lilly’s fears of coming inside the house, only at night and only in the summer. It has been one of the most puzzling of her fears over the years.
Past experiences tell us that the window over the kitchen sink terrifies Lilly. Over time, we isolated it as a sound issue. I tried, tried, tried to counter-condition it via the Relaxation Protocol and by only opening it a little bit while Lilly ate meals in the kitchen. Then, to be honest, I sort of gave up.
Once in a while, everyone gets stuck. Maybe it’s stress. Maybe fear. Maybe illness, in ourselves (or those around us). When friends face what we called “stress lock” back in my college days, I typically tell them this: “Action is always better than inaction.” In other words, do something … anything … to make progress, no matter how small.
Friday morning, Lilly flew from her crate to the dog pen to potty when she awoke. A scent, however, derailed her morning routine. I could NOT for the life of me get her to stop sniffing one corner of the pen. She was intrigued. So, when she made a B-line for that same spot outside the pen after breakfast, I thought for sure we’d found a snake den or something worse. Imagine how happy I was, then, to see baby bunnies, not snakes.
We like to use all kinds of euphemisms to describe our fearful dogs. Shy, reactive, aggressive are common words we use, but what exactly does fear look like when it isn’t necessarily obvious that it’s fear?
