My friend Linda jokes that when you have dogs, you never pee alone. That’s pretty much true around here, so I’ve taken to asking for a variety of behaviors. If Lilly is going to follow me into the bathroom, she might as well entertain me. …
I read a lot, and I mean A LOT. I am bookworm and pretty proud of it. For many years, thanks to my undergraduate thesis, my specialty was 20th century African American women’s literature. There’s no “chick” in this “lit” … that’s for sure. Lately, I’ve been reading more good novels, good stories, than good…
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.
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.”
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.
Sometimes, out of the blue, there’s a moment of connection that catches me by surprise. Like love at first sight, except it happens it’s more a reminder than an instigation. It happens in a flash, but my heart recognizes it nonetheless. This summer, I find, some of these moments arrive as tactile messages. Call it … warm weather, warm heart.
You know you’ve been a home-body when the simple act of putting on pants with a zipper or shoes that tie causes jubilation in your dog. It was a long winter here in Colorado. The snow started in October and remained fairly steady through just before Memorial Day. Thanks to three huge back-to-back storms around the end-of-year holidays, we had 7+ feet of snow on the ground at one point. Needless to say, we didn’t get out much since clearing our football-field-long driveway takes some doing. I didn’t realize how much my hermit status affected Lilly until the sound of a zipper begain causing chaos in the house.
Last year, I interviewed the director of canine resources from Guide Dogs for the Blind. As you may know, they breed their own service dogs. I shared a little background on Lilly with her, and in support, she basically said that there are some dogs who come out of the package and you can do nothing wrong. With others, she admitted, you can do nothing right. Since I often wonder what exactly I did to mess Lilly up, this perspective provided some comfort.
Have you ever heard of those productivity studies, where no matter what researchers do productivity goes up (at least temporarily)? Paint gray walls pink. Productivity goes up. Paint them gray again. Productivity goes up. Pipe in music. Productivity goes up. Pull the music … you get the picture. Sometimes that’s how I feel about all the ways I try to help Lilly overcome hear shyness and fear. Everything seems to help, at least at first. I’m beginning to think we have a productivity placebo effect.
