Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
A night time walk in a blizzard
When I left work today I lamented having to walk Dahlia out in the weather we're having. This afternoon it was windy, about 40mph, blowing the recently fallen snow everywhere. My coworker said "She won't want to be out in this anyway."
I walked outside with Dahlia tonight to discover it was quite the blizzard. Near white-out conditions, snowing heavily, blowing still at around 30-40mph. Lovely. Just lovely. Dahlia ran out into it like this was the BEST STUFF EVAR OMG. I was hoping for a quick pee walk and I got a dog who looked up at me with this look of "wow mom how did you bring this awesome white stuff down!!"
So off we go, Dahlia with a spring in her step, me trudging after her, hoping she'll pee quickly.
She doesn't.
And then as we're coming back around the corner, out of the whiteness and darkness, comes a guy running with two dogs off leash. I can't really tell who it is. But he leashes up the dogs and moves out into the road with them. And as he comes closer I realize it's the guy with the Rottie from down the road and he's walking our neighbor's pit bull puppy. The dogs all know each other so he lets them back off and they come back over to Dahlia.
And play time ensues.
They run around and sniff and dance (and she finally pees!). And then we go see Callahan, a wonderful yellow lab who is sadly rarely walked and usually just tied to the back porch. He's a nice dog despite all of that. Bentley and Bailey are already up with Callahan when Dahlia and I head over. She freezes and I know her next move will be to fly to them. So I call to her and tell her "slow" and she walks slowly with me up to them, each time she forget herself and starts to rush forward I tell her to slow down and she does so. Finally we reach them and the four of them run around (Callahan as best he can being tied to the porch while the others are free) Bentley (the Rottie) takes to humping Callahan, but his owner manages to stop it and Callahan calls him off. Dahlia, of course, plays her proper roll of "police dog" and when Bentley starts to hump, she barks to get his attention and distract him and then herds him away from Callahan. She really is brilliant with that. The people at the dog park love how she sort of seems to defend the dogs who are dealing with a somewhat ruder, more aggressive dog. Luckily Bentley has never tried to hump her or he might get a quick flash of the teeth. Girl knows how to handle herself and does it quite gracefully.
When we decide play time is done, I call Dahlia off and she's awesome as always, following me, though she does start to veer off to chase Bailey and Bentley who are running off in the other direction. I call her back and she's excited and it's play time!! So I toss my glove, which she promptly kills like the predator she is. And then I tell her to bring it inside to Daddy and she does. She brings it right into the house and drops the soaking wet, covered in snow, glove right on top of his dissertation papers.
I love my dog!
I walked outside with Dahlia tonight to discover it was quite the blizzard. Near white-out conditions, snowing heavily, blowing still at around 30-40mph. Lovely. Just lovely. Dahlia ran out into it like this was the BEST STUFF EVAR OMG. I was hoping for a quick pee walk and I got a dog who looked up at me with this look of "wow mom how did you bring this awesome white stuff down!!"
So off we go, Dahlia with a spring in her step, me trudging after her, hoping she'll pee quickly.
She doesn't.
And then as we're coming back around the corner, out of the whiteness and darkness, comes a guy running with two dogs off leash. I can't really tell who it is. But he leashes up the dogs and moves out into the road with them. And as he comes closer I realize it's the guy with the Rottie from down the road and he's walking our neighbor's pit bull puppy. The dogs all know each other so he lets them back off and they come back over to Dahlia.
And play time ensues.
They run around and sniff and dance (and she finally pees!). And then we go see Callahan, a wonderful yellow lab who is sadly rarely walked and usually just tied to the back porch. He's a nice dog despite all of that. Bentley and Bailey are already up with Callahan when Dahlia and I head over. She freezes and I know her next move will be to fly to them. So I call to her and tell her "slow" and she walks slowly with me up to them, each time she forget herself and starts to rush forward I tell her to slow down and she does so. Finally we reach them and the four of them run around (Callahan as best he can being tied to the porch while the others are free) Bentley (the Rottie) takes to humping Callahan, but his owner manages to stop it and Callahan calls him off. Dahlia, of course, plays her proper roll of "police dog" and when Bentley starts to hump, she barks to get his attention and distract him and then herds him away from Callahan. She really is brilliant with that. The people at the dog park love how she sort of seems to defend the dogs who are dealing with a somewhat ruder, more aggressive dog. Luckily Bentley has never tried to hump her or he might get a quick flash of the teeth. Girl knows how to handle herself and does it quite gracefully.
When we decide play time is done, I call Dahlia off and she's awesome as always, following me, though she does start to veer off to chase Bailey and Bentley who are running off in the other direction. I call her back and she's excited and it's play time!! So I toss my glove, which she promptly kills like the predator she is. And then I tell her to bring it inside to Daddy and she does. She brings it right into the house and drops the soaking wet, covered in snow, glove right on top of his dissertation papers.
I love my dog!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Night time walk
We bounded out of the apartment tonight. Me with happiness over going for a walk with my dog; Dahlia with a big grin at the sight and smell of more snow. We rushed down the steps as we often do. You see, walks are fun. Dahlia gets to race through the snow, stopping to sniff when she wants to and then rushing to catch up to me or racing ahead to find the next bit of interesting snow to stick her snout in.
And me? I get to laugh with pure joy at watching her. She makes me happy. Walks with her make me happy.
When we got down off the porch I saw my next door neighbor coming up the sidewalk with her German Shepherd. "Stop," I said to Dahlia. She froze in place. Even her big doggy grin froze in place. I came up next to her and asked her to wait. We waited.
My next door neighbor has her dog on a choke chain or a prong collar. I can't recall which, but it ultimately doesn't matter. They serve the same purpose. He stepped slightly away from her and toward us. She jerked him with the leash. Not instantly. But a few seconds after he moved.
He whined.
She jerked him again and turned to walk in the opposite direction, again jerking him when he didn't follow her.
Dahlia and I stood frozen to the spot for a moment and watched them walk off. Each time he moved away from her, she jerked him with it. And he whined. We could hear his whine from several houses down.
Finally, when they were far enough away, I released Dahlia. She immediately headed in the direction he had gone.
I didn't want to go in that direction. I called to her. "Dahlia, wrong way!"
She turned on a dime and rushed back to me and then past me, sticking her face into the snow as she went.
And then we started the race down the path. Dahlia pausing to sniff, me calling excitedly to her and watching her race with joy to me.
The grin had returned.
As had mine.
Walks are a joyous time for Dahlia and I. We race along snow covered sidewalks. We trudge through snow-choked fields 2 or more feet deep. I let her off leash in the park to play the "wait/come" game and to play fetch with a snow-covered tennis ball. We jump and play. We meet other dogs and she plays.
I walk along with a smile on my face that matches Dahlia's. Walks are her time, but they're also for me. It's my time to watch my dog be a dog, my time to watch her enjoy herself.
My neighbor's dog doesn't have that joy. He moves with much anxiety, his back legs bunched up awkwardly as he moves down the sidewalk. My neighbor once told me that she's working "very hard" on his training. She walks with a scowl on her face and is continually fighting her dog. It's a war of wills. She's been told she has to be alpha. She believes it. And so it's a constant fight between her and her dog. She MUST win, you see. Or else he will control all.
I believe Dahlia and I are companions, that I take care of her, that we are partners in our joyous walks together. Training is fun. It should be fun. When it becomes not fun it's over.
We returned to the apartment the same way we left it, with smiles on our faces. Dahlia raced up the porch and into the house. I followed slightly behind, shutting the doors and turning off the lights.
My neighbor is still out with her dog, still struggling with him somewhere on her walk. It's not his. Never his.
Dahlia and I are happy and content inside after our lovely, companionable walk.
I like it that way.
And me? I get to laugh with pure joy at watching her. She makes me happy. Walks with her make me happy.
When we got down off the porch I saw my next door neighbor coming up the sidewalk with her German Shepherd. "Stop," I said to Dahlia. She froze in place. Even her big doggy grin froze in place. I came up next to her and asked her to wait. We waited.
My next door neighbor has her dog on a choke chain or a prong collar. I can't recall which, but it ultimately doesn't matter. They serve the same purpose. He stepped slightly away from her and toward us. She jerked him with the leash. Not instantly. But a few seconds after he moved.
He whined.
She jerked him again and turned to walk in the opposite direction, again jerking him when he didn't follow her.
Dahlia and I stood frozen to the spot for a moment and watched them walk off. Each time he moved away from her, she jerked him with it. And he whined. We could hear his whine from several houses down.
Finally, when they were far enough away, I released Dahlia. She immediately headed in the direction he had gone.
I didn't want to go in that direction. I called to her. "Dahlia, wrong way!"
She turned on a dime and rushed back to me and then past me, sticking her face into the snow as she went.
And then we started the race down the path. Dahlia pausing to sniff, me calling excitedly to her and watching her race with joy to me.
The grin had returned.
As had mine.
Walks are a joyous time for Dahlia and I. We race along snow covered sidewalks. We trudge through snow-choked fields 2 or more feet deep. I let her off leash in the park to play the "wait/come" game and to play fetch with a snow-covered tennis ball. We jump and play. We meet other dogs and she plays.
I walk along with a smile on my face that matches Dahlia's. Walks are her time, but they're also for me. It's my time to watch my dog be a dog, my time to watch her enjoy herself.
My neighbor's dog doesn't have that joy. He moves with much anxiety, his back legs bunched up awkwardly as he moves down the sidewalk. My neighbor once told me that she's working "very hard" on his training. She walks with a scowl on her face and is continually fighting her dog. It's a war of wills. She's been told she has to be alpha. She believes it. And so it's a constant fight between her and her dog. She MUST win, you see. Or else he will control all.
I believe Dahlia and I are companions, that I take care of her, that we are partners in our joyous walks together. Training is fun. It should be fun. When it becomes not fun it's over.
We returned to the apartment the same way we left it, with smiles on our faces. Dahlia raced up the porch and into the house. I followed slightly behind, shutting the doors and turning off the lights.
My neighbor is still out with her dog, still struggling with him somewhere on her walk. It's not his. Never his.
Dahlia and I are happy and content inside after our lovely, companionable walk.
I like it that way.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
How could they?
This coming weekend I'm going to be doing a transport for three Aussie puppies. Two are only 8 weeks old, the 3rd is all of 7 weeks old. Three tiny little puppies.
1. Puppy one cannot hear.
2. Puppy two cannot hear and is visually impaired.
3. Puppy three cannot hear and is visually impaired.
They all deserve a chance at life. In fact, the first two were going to be taken to the vets to be killed by their breeder because they were, essentially, defective. Why were they defective? Why did one litter have two dogs with hearing and vision problems?
Because of the breeder. The merle coloring, that lovely flecked coat so many people admire in Aussies (and Border collies and some other breeds of dog) comes with a gene for deafness and blindness. When two merle dogs are bred together, some 25% of the puppies are born with these defects. It comes with a variety of names, from Double Merle to Lethal White (many of these dogs are put down before they ever have a chance to live) to much more technical terms.
Any way you look at it, it's caused by bad breeding. No good breeder would breed two merles together. But people looking to make a quick buck will do so and not feel any sadness over culling the innocent deaf and/or blind pups they brought into the world.
Two of the puppies on the transport were part of a litter that was being taken to an open air market to sell to whomever wandered by (good breeder? I don't think so). The deaf and blind ones were going to be taken to the vet to be put down. Luckily someone else got to them first and they're going to be coming to rescue. The pups were only 5 weeks old when this stellar example of dog breeding was going to sell them.
It's just so disheartening to think people continue to breed in such a way. To date, I've transported five deaf dogs. These will be numbers 6, 7, and 8.
Some resources, for anyone who finds themselves with a dog they didn't know was deaf or is considering adopting a deaf dog.
http://www.deafdogs.com
http://www.lethalwhites.com
This is pup #3 for the transport this coming weekend. Cute, isn't she?
1. Puppy one cannot hear.
2. Puppy two cannot hear and is visually impaired.
3. Puppy three cannot hear and is visually impaired.
They all deserve a chance at life. In fact, the first two were going to be taken to the vets to be killed by their breeder because they were, essentially, defective. Why were they defective? Why did one litter have two dogs with hearing and vision problems?
Because of the breeder. The merle coloring, that lovely flecked coat so many people admire in Aussies (and Border collies and some other breeds of dog) comes with a gene for deafness and blindness. When two merle dogs are bred together, some 25% of the puppies are born with these defects. It comes with a variety of names, from Double Merle to Lethal White (many of these dogs are put down before they ever have a chance to live) to much more technical terms.
Any way you look at it, it's caused by bad breeding. No good breeder would breed two merles together. But people looking to make a quick buck will do so and not feel any sadness over culling the innocent deaf and/or blind pups they brought into the world.
Two of the puppies on the transport were part of a litter that was being taken to an open air market to sell to whomever wandered by (good breeder? I don't think so). The deaf and blind ones were going to be taken to the vet to be put down. Luckily someone else got to them first and they're going to be coming to rescue. The pups were only 5 weeks old when this stellar example of dog breeding was going to sell them.
It's just so disheartening to think people continue to breed in such a way. To date, I've transported five deaf dogs. These will be numbers 6, 7, and 8.
Some resources, for anyone who finds themselves with a dog they didn't know was deaf or is considering adopting a deaf dog.
http://www.deafdogs.com
http://www.lethalwhites.com
This is pup #3 for the transport this coming weekend. Cute, isn't she?
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Old Dogs
Last night we were out on our walk and Dahlia was sniffing around when I noticed, back toward a house, a dog tied out (to the tree). I told David to watch out as the dog started to come toward us. It moved slowly though and seemed interested in Dahlia. The strange thing? Dahlia didn't rush the dog. Usually when she sees a dog she gets so excited she has to run right over to it, sometimes a bit faster than she should. Sometimes she does a sort of border collie crouch and freezes and then rushes the dog (I'm trying to work on that one!).
But this time she went up slowly and the dogs touched noses and met very nicely. The dog was very calm and didn't rudely sniff Dahlia or anything. He just wanted to come say hi.
I noticed as he came into the light that the poor thing was missing patches of hair all over his body and some hair looked like it was growing back in. He looked like he might have mange or something along that line.
The owner then pulled in (her friends had let the dog out and were keeping an eye on him from inside the house -- I could see them in the window) and came over to talk to us. It turned out that the dog was named Zeke. He was a Newfie/Shepherd mix and he was 17 years old! She said he didn't have mange or anything like that, "he was just old." She had had him since she was in high school and just adored the dog.
And the really amazing thing? He still wanted to play. And Dahlia wanted to play too! She started play bowing in front of him and gently coming up to him with her play/growl face on. She would sort of dance around out of his range and then come up to him slowly and jump back. He even play bowed a couple times and ambled around her. It was like two dogs playing in slow motion and it was really awesome to watch.
At one point, Dahlia play bowed and jumped back out of his range. He came over to her and simply reached out a paw toward her. It was so incredibly sweet. I wish I had a photo of that moment. It's an image that will stay with me forever.
But this time she went up slowly and the dogs touched noses and met very nicely. The dog was very calm and didn't rudely sniff Dahlia or anything. He just wanted to come say hi.
I noticed as he came into the light that the poor thing was missing patches of hair all over his body and some hair looked like it was growing back in. He looked like he might have mange or something along that line.
The owner then pulled in (her friends had let the dog out and were keeping an eye on him from inside the house -- I could see them in the window) and came over to talk to us. It turned out that the dog was named Zeke. He was a Newfie/Shepherd mix and he was 17 years old! She said he didn't have mange or anything like that, "he was just old." She had had him since she was in high school and just adored the dog.
And the really amazing thing? He still wanted to play. And Dahlia wanted to play too! She started play bowing in front of him and gently coming up to him with her play/growl face on. She would sort of dance around out of his range and then come up to him slowly and jump back. He even play bowed a couple times and ambled around her. It was like two dogs playing in slow motion and it was really awesome to watch.
At one point, Dahlia play bowed and jumped back out of his range. He came over to her and simply reached out a paw toward her. It was so incredibly sweet. I wish I had a photo of that moment. It's an image that will stay with me forever.
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