Blind Leading the Blind

So I have one blind dog that I occasionally walk.  She's been blind for a few years now.  She is and older dog (Ginger), and lives with her litter mate brother (Oreo).  She's been blind for a few years now and is very comfortable with her disability.  Unfortunately for her, Oreo doesn't make the best seeing eye dog.  They leash the two dogs together, but he just runs Ginger into things.  Ginger gets along on her own just fine at home, and when she knows where she is.  It is only when she goes out into the wider world that you'd even notice that she can't see where she is going.

I am a soccer player, have played my entire life.  Wednesday night I got my head on a rocket shot at close range, and it knocked me silly.  Not an entirely unusual thing.  But usually the blind spots disappear fairly quickly, like within five minutes.  This time there was one, it was huge, and it didn't go away for the rest of the game, although it did shrink a bit.  When it was still there the next morning, I figured I'd better go make sure I hadn't detached my retina, which can happen from blunt force trauma.  Fortunately, I hadn't, and the blind spot is supposed to shrink and then disappear.  Good news!  But in order to check me out, they did give me drops to dilate my eyes yesterday.

I am sure you can see where this is going.  The drops usually go away fairly quickly, but not for me, not yesterday anyway.  And because of the drops, my eyesight was all screwy, plus I still have the blind spot.  So indeed, we did have a situation yesterday where it was the blind leading the blind!  Well, the very blind at the end of the leash, and the nearly blind following along behind at any rate.  And yes, I did have someone else drive me.  Just another adventure in dog walking!

When the fur flies...

Had an interesting conversation with another dog walker at the park the other day.  I had helped her break up a fight amongst her dogs.  She has two labs that live together who tend to pick on another dog in her pack.  And the other dog is one who is up for the fight.  Apparently this is a fairly common thing for them.  But usually it isn't much of an issue because when this third dog is in a grumpy mood, she muzzles him.  You may not think this is fair, but it is his reaction to their play that escalates the situation, so this is her solution.

Fortunately, this most of the time they get along pretty well, and usually if they are having a bad day she manages to muzzle him before they really get into it.  Last week was not one of those days.  I was out in the water and looked to shore to see her with the two labs, one in each hand, held as far apart as possible, and the other dog still trying to get at them, because once the skirmish starts, he is willing to finish it. 

Now, one person keeping two dogs apart is really hard.  Heck, two people keeping two dogs apart is not particularly easy.  One person keeping three dogs apart is totally impossible.  So in jumped a good Samaritan to help, and given that my dogs were completely disinterested in me or the skirmish, I came to shore to help as well.  We got everyone separated, and the muzzle on, and everything ended up being just fine.  No blood, no harm, no foul.

On the walk back from the water to the parking area, we ended up walking together and had a long talk.  And she was really thankful for the help, and a bit frustrated that it had happened at all, because she felt like she maybe ignored some clues that should have told her to muzzle him earlier.  She was also a bit interested to see why more help hadn't come from other dog walkers.  And after thinking about it for a while, I pointed out that my thought process was in situations like that. 

My responsibility is to the dogs in my pack first and foremost.  If I bring my pack of dogs toward a dog fight, I may be doing more harm than good.  It just depends upon who I have in my pack, and how severe the fight is.  If the dogs I have with me will most likely add on, I am probably going to do everything I can to walk them away to minimize my impact.  If, like during this incident, my dogs are ignoring me...I will go and help out.  And if the fight is bad enough that someone is going to get severely hurt, then I will jump in no matter what, but in the safest manner possible. 

I am glad I shared this with her.  It was a perspective she had never considered before, and I think it reassured her that the people who aren't helping aren't necessarily doing so out of indifference.  They may be making the right choice given what they know about their own dogs' behaviors.  It was an interesting day, and I'm glad I helped, on both fronts.

Holy Terrier

Thursday was a rare day.  I only had two dogs with me at the park.  So much individual attention is a really nice thing once in a while.  However, the two dogs I had with me were my terriers, Nuala and Bennie.  So of course, they chose to spend their time on opposite ends of the park.  Nuala wanted to be at the North field.  She likes playing fetch there because she gets to hide the ball in the trees once she has fetched it up, thereby having a game of hide-and-seek with me while I am having a game of fetch with her.

Bennie decided the tree at the south end of South field was the place to be.  The weekend bartender for a fine local establishment was sitting at the picnic table under the tree there, and Bennie really enjoyed his quiet calm demeanor, and his fun dogs.  Bennie enjoyed it so much, that even though he came and checked in with me once, he immediately went back to the corner, and never came back.  So once Nuala was appropriately exhausted, I went to check on Bennie.  And instead of following, Nuala being a terrier and in charge of her self, stayed under the big tree in the middle of the park for about 15 minutes before she came to find me.

Having a pack follow you around you can feel a bit like a pied piper sometimes.  Thursday was a nice change for me.  A chance to enjoy each of the dogs for their own beauty and style without balancing their needs against the needs of the other dogs in the pack.  As small as my packs are, this isn't generally an issue for me, but sometimes it's nice to be able to give one dog 99% of your attention, even if it is only for  15 or 20 minutes. 

Fickle Furry Fiend

One of my old clients got tired of her job, and decided to go into the dog walking business as well.  One might think having more "competition" would be a bad thing, but in fact our businesses are so completely different that it has been fantastic.  She does not take dogs to the off leash areas, she does leash walks and handles vacation care.  And having her around has made it possible for me to take a couple of vacations over the last few years, because she can leash walk my dogs when I am away.  She is also a great referral source for me, as I am for her, because she will occasionally end up with a client whose dog needs more than she is set up to give.

Izzy is one of those dogs, but it a completely weird way.  Izzy is stubborn as the day is long.  Yesterday I got a phone call wondering if I was near home.  It seems Izzy had walked to a certain point, say 1/2 mile from where they had parked, and was refusing to move.  Not dragging along behind, not really busy sniffing something.  Butt planted on the ground, feet dug in, refusing to move under any circumstances in any direction.  Fortunately, I had just arrived home from finishing my dog day, so I loaded up again and went to pick them up. 

Now you have to understand.  Izzy goes to the park with me once a week.  She could easily handle two trips, and she has a great time at the park.  But getting her to walk from her house to the truck is really tough.  Some days she just walks right out as if nothing was unusual, others she requires bribes, and others she refuses to go, at which point I've taken to dealing with her like I would an obstinate toddler.  Do you want to walk to the car, or do you want me to carry you?  Seriously!  I would normally never force a dog to do anything.  But with Izzy, it isn't fear, or a dislike for the truck, or the dogs, or the park, she is really happy once I have loaded her into the truck and loves the park beyond measure.  It is just stubbornness and a determination to be in control.  On the one occasion when her signals say "no", which has only happened once and it was this week, I made sure she peed, gave her some love, and then left her at home. 

So the greeting I got when I arrived to pick them both up was hilarious.  She could NOT have been happier to see me.  All tail wags and loves.  And she ran over to the back of my truck and hopped right in.  Silly girl.  Silly fickle frustrating, damn my back doesn't need to carry you to the truck 50lbs of DOG!  Normally I say I really don't think I want to know what my dogs are thinking.  But honestly, I'd love to know what goes on in that dog's mind, and how long they would have had to stand in that spot had I been elsewhere. 

Picnic Table Pain

As you all know, Ollie is a rather enthusiastic boy.  Monday he was having so much fun in and out of the water.  He had his girlfriend Mazy along, and a new friend Zoey.  Maizy and Zoey were "sharing" a small soft Frisbee, as dogs do.  In other words, playing tug with it, or chase - depending upon how many mouths actually had a piece of it at the moment. 

In this picture, Ollie's job is referee.  He feels it is very important to bark and otherwise encourage the other dogs during the tug portion of the event.  Once the chase portion begins, he is all about being hot on their heels.  Unfortunately for Ollie, event though he must be approaching his second birthday by now, his wiggly puppy butt still has control of those hind legs at moments.  So while the other dogs ran around the picnic table, Ollie's back half figured it would go through the picnic table, at full speed.  CLUNK!

Dogs are interesting when they hurt themselves.  They go to "all stop" in a big hurry.  I would have sworn Ollie had broken or dislocated his hind leg, he hit the picnic table so hard.  He stood there on three legs, and just looked around as if to ask if anyone got the license number of the truck that had just hit him.  Then he let out a little whimper, which was what really concerned me.  Dogs are actually much like small children, they look around to see from your reaction how they should react. So I calmly walked over to him, and started feeling his legs to see if he reacted to my touch anywhere.  I found nothing out of place...so gave him lots of love and appreciation for what a good boy he was, and of course we commiserated over how that wicked picnic table had jumped out in front of him. 

And this is when the real test comes, when the clunk is out of his short term memory and he wants to go play with his buddies again.  If the hurt is real, he'd feel it on his first few steps and become a three legged dog for the time being.  If not, he'd go on as if nothing had happened.  Which fortunately for both of us is what happened.  It is a LONG way from the water to the car, it would not be pleasant to have a truly injured 80 lb dog to carry all that way.  And he really was back to his normal self, played like a crazy dog the rest of the day.  Warned his owner about the collision, so she could keep an eye on him.  Like with us, the second and third day can be much worse than right after the incident for dogs too.  Good news, he ran with no limp the following day.  I'll let you know if he goes anywhere near the offending picnic table today!

La La is Back

Well, I wish I could say that I'd been away to France watching each stage of Le Tour de France this year from the side of the road.  But truth be told, I spend every morning watching every stage from the comfort of the window seat in my breakfast room.  I understand that this may seem like a poor excuse for not posting, but in reality it effectively took up all of my spare time, and the momentum I had built up for blogging.  However, thanks to Cadel Evans and his success in the alps and time trial victory, it is now time to return to doing those things which get me through the day, including my dog blog.  I would like to thank those of you who checked in with me and let me know you missed the posts.  It feels good to know someone is enjoying them. 

So where to begin, there have been so many dog park trips since I last posted that I am not quite sure where to start.  Perhaps with Maisy, who has learned to love a new toy.  It is a soft mini Frisbee and she loves it to death.  She is obediently sitting before I throw it, if I am on shore.  I have been insisting on this as otherwise she can barely contain her enthusiasm and hobby horse hops in front of me. 

The beauty of summer is that I do not have to remain on shore.  I am able to wade or swim out with the dogs.  If I do this, I can play fetch with her without the other dogs on shore distracting her and she gets much more exercise.  She is really looking svelt these days.  Ollie will join her out in the water when we are doing this, but after a few minutes he gets tired, and instead of going back to shore will try to climb me as if I am a little island out there.  Needless to say, I push him away and send him to shore.  Goofy boy.

Chaos and Excitement

Okay, another little blip there in my every day commitment.  Seems like there are going to be times when life gets in the way of doing this, I hope you will all forgive me.  The dogs have been great, but I've had some "days" in the last week or so.  One day last week I lost my focus and managed to drop my car keys when I was unloading the dogs.  Of course I didn't realize it at the time.  Sometimes the process of getting five or six leashed dogs out of the back of the truck, and into the fenced corral, can be a bit challenging.  That was one of those days, as one got away from me, and one was snapping at everyone else, and then all of a sudden there were people in the paddock, so I had to wait to bring them through...with five dogs in one hand and trying to get to the loose one.  Anyway, keys went completely out of my mind.

So when we get back to the truck, I realize I have no keys.  But of course it takes a while for me to actually realize this, because I am wearing cargo shorts with logs of pockets.  I like them for work because I can keep my phone, my wallet, the doggie bags, my keys, some treats,etc.  with me without having to carry a bag.  But then when it is time to grab something, you have to do the pocket pat down.  And literally, making sure I didn't have the keys in one of the various pockets involved removing everything I could find, and then jumping up and down to confirm that I hadn't missed a pocket. 

So then, of course, panic sets in.  The park is many acres...and I walk up and down the fields with the dogs...and I feel like my pockets are secure, but as I am often bending down or squatting to greet dogs, I can see how it would have been possible for the keys to work their way out of a pocket onto the soft surface and have me not hear them go.  So I look in the tall grass behind my truck where I'd let the dogs out, an don't see my keys.  I decide I must have had them in my hand with my leashes, which I set down on a bench, and they could have fallen through the bench and be on the ground there.  So I retrace my path through the park as best I can, keeping my eyes open, but find nothing.

Back at the truck I search behind the truck again, thinking that is the most logical place, but do not find them.  Then it occurs the me that while we have had spare keys made for the truck, none have ever worked in the ignition.  So even if I call and have a  key brought to me, I cannot move the truck, and I have all of these dogs to deal with.  Resigned to the insanity of the situation, I continue my search and eventually, after one slightly panic ridden phone call I do eventually find the keys.  Nothing like making a day more exciting than it needs to be.

Herding Cats

Some days wrangling dogs is like, well, herding cats.  As I have discussed before, getting Maisy into the back of my truck can be a bit tricky sometimes.  She shies at the door if everything isn't exactly right, and I will occasionally have to bribe her to hop up.  Of course, bribing one dog at the doorway means everyone wants a little treat...bringing them all to the door, making it more likely she'll shy.  You get the picture.

Last Friday Maisy had a day when she had both Ollie and Benson greet her at the back of my truck.  Now she goes to the park with each of them, and really enjoys them.  But she'd never been with both of them at the same time.  And I have to admit they are quite the dynamic duo.  Ollie and Benson have a park day together on one of Maisy's off days and really enjoy each other.  So the drive to Maisy's house was about a twenty minute wrestle fest for them, and they are all amped up by the time they got there.

So, when I opened the back door to let Maisy into the truck, of course Ollie wanted to get out and greet her.  And when it is just Ollie, this actually usually works well, because they jump back up into the back end together.  But with Benson in the mix, the out and back in became three dogs exploring Maisy's yard...Ollie trying to break into her house, a wrestling match on the front lawn with all three dogs tied up in each other's leashes.  Sigh.  Herding cats.

In their defense, at the next stop, when we picked up Chloe and Sabine, they were all perfectly well mannered dogs while I was loading the little ones.  I have to give them that!

Brother From Another Mother

Thursday Benson met a new puppy, and they played and played and played.  Wrestle and chase were the games of the day.  Not an unusual occurrence, but what made it noteworthy was the other dog.  Much larger, of indiscriminate breed, but with basically the same markings as Benson.  It looked like the same artist painted the two completely disparate dogs with the same brush.

They were very sweet together.  We ended up pretty much spending our entire park time together, including walking the lower trail.  It's really nice when two dogs "click" like that.  Sort of hope he'll be there again today.

Doggie Triggers.

So I am wondering what it is that makes your dog go crazy.  Is there a special trigger that causes brain disconnect?  For my dog, Mac, it is a motorcycle.  He absolutely is convinced those things need to be killed.  I am not sure if it is the faceless rider, or the sound of the motor, or some other thing about a motorcycle, but whatever it is causes my normally goofy dog to loose his mind.  As our weather here improves, it is once again becoming an issue for us.

I have seen this in other dogs as well.  I have two Staffordshire Terriers who are set off by bright, day-glo yellow jackets.  I asked the owner and he had no idea where this aversion came from.  They were also rather determined to kill motorcycles.  Always wondered what would happen if someone rode by in a yellow jacket on a motorcycle.

Picabo freaks for roller blades and skate boards.  The concept that a human can move along the ground without their legs walking is just too much for her to handle.  Taking her for a walk along Alki is always a challenge.  Back when I walked her every day she was learning to deal with her aversion, but now I only have her a week or so a year for vacation care, so we just avoid it.

Oso used to freak over thunder and fireworks.  Bart freaked in the car.  Ginger couldn't handle Great Danes...something about having another dog that much bigger than her really set her off.  And little Chloe is completely against the existence of German Shepards.  They are to be soundly scolded before they are allowed to breathe the same air she does.. 

So, I am just curious.  What makes your dog crazy?

Moki the Warrior

Most small dogs I work with have big attitude.  If they didn't, their owners wouldn't be sending them off to the dog park.  Moki isn't shy on attitude, but with two much bigger dogs in his household, he often appears to be the quiet third wheel.  This couldn't be further from the truth however.  He is entirely the instigator of most of the mayhem around his house.  Of course if you had two much bigger older brothers covering your back, you'd probably have a little attitude you.

So I take Moki and his brothers for long leash walks.  Twice now Moki has decided to bring along a toy, because just keeping up with the big boys isn't enough work.  Now the toy Moki likes to carry is a "Kong".   And it is actually the same size of his head.  He carries it's smaller end in his mouth...for the entire walk.  Never setting it down, never resting.  This is not some light little toy.  Kongs are designed to be "chew proof" so they are made of really heavy rubber.  Moki is definitely one of the most determined, single minded dogs I have ever worked with.  He is a true warrior.

David v. Goliath

Chloe is my little swimmer.  But as I have explained before, once she sees water all of her lovely doggie manners go entirely out the window.  There is no recall.  There is no sit or stay or leave it.  There is only Chloe racing up and down the shoreline or swimming back and forth in the deep water.  And as near as I can tell, there is no point at which she is tired of this and ready to go home.  Even though she gets to go with me to the water twice a week, and she is now becoming an older dog, I have never had her willingly leave the water with me.

As a matter of fact, on a couple of occasions I have had to wade waist deep into the water when I haven't been able to catch her on one of her shore runs.  And once she knows it is time to go, coming to shore on her own is completely out of the question.  And so, she wears a long line when we are near the water, so I don't actually have to catch her...if I can get the end of the 8ft line she trails, then I can tow her in to shore.  And by tow, I mean tow, she swims against me as hard as she can.  And once she hits shore, she continues to attempt to drag me back to the water until we are well away and there are at least two gates between her and the shoreline.

Generally, this set up works pretty well.  Yes, it is possible for her to catch the line on something out in the water.  It has happened.  But the way I look at it, wading in to unhook her every once in a while, is better than having to wade in every time we need to leave.  And really, this is only a major problem in the winter anyway, as I am usually in the water the rest of the year...it is only a matter of how deep I have to go to get her.

There is one other issue however, that is a little more difficult to control.  Occasionally, another dog will become fascinated with Chloe's line.  Some even manage to pick it up and swim along with her - as if they were taking her for a water walk.  Generally, this isn't much of a problem unless they are trying to control where she goes.  When THAT happens, she is pretty capable of letting them know exactly what she thinks of the situation.  She may be small, but she lacks no self-confidence.  She stands up to other dogs and lets them know how she feels. 

Only occasionally do I need to step in.  Monday was one of those days.  An enormous white Newfie just couldn't get the message straight, and Chloe just wasn't swimming out deep enough  to shake him.  He was walking while she was swimming.  All in all it wasn't a big deal, but it sure entertained everyone on shore to see this small dog taking on the giant.  Afraid I didn't get pics, as my hands were full dealing with it...but I am sure you can imagine.  On the long walk back to the car, the dogs made their peace.  Amazing how easily dogs do this.

Friday Fun with the Big Dogs

After what has been one of the wettest, messiest, most nasty winter/springs I can remember, Friday was a gift.  Bright sunshine, and enough breeze to keep cool while playing with the pups.  Friday is usually a water day for us, but as Miss Maisy was enjoying time with her moms', I ended up at the park with Camos and Ollie. 

Camos is a determine retriever, for an overly large in all dimensions lab.  He wants to chase a tennis ball until he drops, and two is even better. After about two runs across the field, he sounds as if he is in need of oxygen, but he keeps plugging until he is done.  But when he is done, he is done - lays down and refuses to move, so it is always important to pay particular attention to his clues so you know when you are getting close.  Getting him to walk out of the park under his own power at the end is the goal. 

My new chuck-it (purple one), is starting to break in a bit.  Friday gave me an opportunity to really let it fly as there were surprisingly few dogs at the park for such a beautiful day.  My old green chuck-it was so whippy by the end, the release point on the new one is completely different.  The first throw when I get into the park usually ends up directed squarely at the ground about 10 feet in front of me...humiliating! 

Ollie is much more interested in being "social" at the park than retrieving.  In particular, if he loses interest in the other dogs, he becomes very social with any human who has treats in their pocket.  Or, has ever had a treat in their pocket.  Or makes a move with their hand as if they were reaching for a treat in their pocket.  Basically, Ollie walks around to all of the humans begging for goodies.  Heaven forbid someone should actually GIVE him a treat.  He then becomes their dog, and will stick to them like glue around the park and get into their vehicle when they are going home.  Really, I do think he would leave with anyone who even smelled like treats if I let him. 

Ollie is a fickle friend.

When ya gotta go

Okay, so let's talk poop.  Because really, it is what I deal with every day.  It is a fact of doggie life, heck, it is a fact of everyone's life.  And it's all about how you handle the poop in your life that makes the difference.  Before I had this business I was an accountant.  I used to take the poop home at the end of the day, carry it around, worry about it, sleep with it, and bring it back the next morning.  Now, for the most part I pick it up - preferably when it is still warm - and toss it in the trash and walk away.  It is a much healthier way to live.

So that being said, there are some places where picking up the poop is easy.  For example a nice dirt field, or in the wood chips, or along a trail with a loose surface.  There are other places that are a bit more difficult.  A hard surface, where smears are left for example.  Then there's the tall grass where it isn't always easy to get all of it.  Some times of year are difficult.  Fall, when all of the leaves are falling, can be really tough because it blends in.  If it isn't cold enough to look for the steam, sometimes you just never find it. 

The worst possible place...the back of my truck.  I have a spray on bed liner, so the surface is textured.  And if that isn't enough, consider that the chances the poop was deposited just before I open the back of the truck is very low.  So you've had a pack of dogs walking "around" it for some period of time.  Wearing their leashes.  You get the picture.  Most dogs will explode before the use the back of my truck.  Unfortunately, most is not all.  I won't disclose which of my regulars is an offender, but let's just say I can always tell when his family didn't take him for his morning walk.  And no, not possible to give him a chance to go before loading him in.  He tows me to the back of the truck, his sole purpose in life when I pick him up is to make sure he gets to go...bodily needs be damned.

Wood Chip Heaven

One of the dog parks I use has a deal with the local tree services.  They bring in 5 yard loads of wood chips to the park, which are then spread by volunteers to make a nice soft surface for the dogs to run and play on.  It also keeps down the mud somewhat.  These piles often remain for a couple of weeks before they are spread on a "work day" at the park. 

Most of the dogs ignore the piles, or look at them as obstacles to race around.  Ollie, on the other hand, loves to roll in them.  The more moist and steamy the pile, the better from his point of view.  He'll summit the pile as if he were the victor in King of the Mountain, then practically bury himself in the goodness.  He rolls and wriggles and rubs until he is completely covered in wood chips.  I cannot say, because I have not tried it myself, but to me it looks like he is in absolute ecstasy while occupied with his pile of fresh chips.

Now Ollie is a handsome boy, and has some spectacular tail feathers.  And, through his actions I just mentioned, has a tendency to take about half of the chip pile with him when he is done enjoying its pleasures.  Of course it bothers him to have all of these little sticks and twigs attached to his hind end.  So after his roll in the pile you find him pulling the offending matter out of his tail...in a not entirely proper body position.  And once that is accomplished?  Of course he is back to the chip pile. 

Somehow I am not sure he sees the correlation between the two activities, but I certainly enjoy watching the show.

Bittersweet

One of the downfalls to doing what I do is that you give your heart away to so many furry friends,and inevitably you suffer some losses.  On the permanent scale along side their owners I've been through the process of putting aged dogs in pain down and watching others fade away.  I've also experienced the sudden loss of what had seemed to be a healthy dog.  It is never easy, but in the end you are left with warm memories and an understanding that this is all part of life.

There are, of course, losses of a less permanent nature.  Dogs whose situations change and you are no longer needed in their lives.  They either move away, or their owner's life situation changes and you aren't needed anymore.  Some of these dogs you have a chance to see again when they come visit their old stomping grounds.  With others you get a quick goodbye, if you are lucky, and then they are out of your life, leaving only memories. 

Yesterday I found out I'll be losing a family of three dogs in a month due to a change in jobs.  Will it affect my pocket book?  A little.  Will it affect my heart?  A lot.  But these are dogs who have already come and gone from my life a couple of  times, and I suspect that I'll be helping out when their people go on vacation again at some point.  So with that in mind, I am just looking at this as a temporary separation.  Another chapter in my book with them.  And a chance to experience the pure joy they express when they see me after a long period of time. 

Wet and Wild Wednesday

Yesterday was certainly a wet and wild day on the lake.  Maisy has developed a love for the soft Frisbees.  She will pretty much do anything in her power to gain possession of one.  She is not much for bringing tennis balls back in the water but those Frisbees, that is an entirely different story.  She will have one of her very own to play with come tomorrow, and I'm sure she will be thrilled!

Chloe made a new friend yesterday, and they couldn't have been cuter.  Lola is a puppy still, and was fascinated with this little dog swimming around amongst all of the other water dogs.  Did I mention Lola is the biggest brown Newfoundland I have ever seen.  She belongs to my friend's pack.  I am hoping we get a chance to get them together again.  I tried and tried to snap a photo of them together, but they were always too far away to get a good one, so you'll have to settle for them separately, and imagine what togetherness would look like. (that is a mini aussie trying to pounce Chloe...she just swims away)

It was miserable wet and rainy at the park, but the dogs don't mind a bit.  As a matter of fact, on Monday when it was beautiful, they all just strolled off with me when it was time to go.  Yesterday, I had to leash them up to get them to leave the water even though we'd stayed an extra hour.  I guess once you are already wet and grimy, a little more rain doesn't make much difference.  I know it doesn't for me.

Technical Difficulties

Was hampered in my post-a-day efforts by some technical difficulties, but am happy to be back up and running again and with a new toy.  I managed to wash my cell phone, and it didn't survive.  Everything works but the screen.  So I had to purchase a new phone, which was a blessing in disguise.  My phone is my link to my clients.  They can wave me off last minute if their plans change, or add an extra trip if they need to.  As I am on the road most of the day, this is the method of choice.  My new phone has the most kick-ass camera, so I'll be able to share some photos of my exploits along with all of my words. 

In a related topic, my aunt is 82 and has Alzheimers.  Some nights it is difficult to find common ground to entertain her.  But she always loves to admire dogs.  So I have been taking snaps of the dogs at the park since I got my phone, and we sit and I tell her about all of their different personalities.  This is always a winner.  Now I just need to figure out how to download the photos from the phone to my computer.  Neither the manual, nor the help menu on the phone has enlightened me.  Time to give it to a teenager and let them figure it out!

Yesterday I had Camos with the rest of my large pack.  He is a huge, and rather tubby, black lab mix.  He loves to fetch, and he and Nuala had a really good time chasing balls.  Unfortunately, he is a little out of shape, and sounds like he is going into cardiac arrest after he gets a bit of exercise, not that he'd let that slow him down.  Actually, the funny thing about Camos is that he will run and run and run.  But when he is done, he just lays down wherever he is and refuses to move.  It is always a delicate balancing act to get him enough exercise, but still leave enough in his tank so he will walk back to the truck with me.  I can pretty much man handle most of my dogs if I need to, but that one is definitely beyond my ability to pick up!

Irony...sigh.

So I know that what we perceive to be ironic is sometimes not actually the dictionary definition of irony...but I am thinking this probably qualifies.  As I was writing my post about my "Chuck-It", I had already lost my new fancy Eddie Bauer "Chuck-It".  Probably left it in the grass while working with Maisy to get her into the back of my truck.  Double darned drat.  I tell you, that old one was magic, there is just no other way it could have stayed with me for that many years.  Ah well, hopefully purple "Chuck-It" will have a bit of bright green's mojo and will hang around for a while.

Thursday ended up being a terrier only day for me.  But what a beautiful day it was.  We stayed at the park extra long just so I could soak up some Vitamin D.  I do my best to do that on nice days when the dogs are all getting along and enjoying themselves.  If I have the extra time, I see no reason to race out of the park to keep to a schedule.  And there are times when we have to leave a bit early.  Usually because there is an issue at the park that I deem to be a safety issue (an ill behaved of often unneutered male for example).  Or the dogs are sometimes just "done"...when the pack takes me to the gate, I figure they know when they have had enough and I should honor their group decision, so what if that is 5 minutes earlier than my schedule dictates?  It is always made up for on other days.  I am very up front with the dog owners about this.  I think they would rather have their dogs' needs met, than someone continuously looking at a watch to see if it is time to leave.

Friday was a water dog day, and boy did we play in the water.  It was windy, so the surf was up, and there were lots of fun dogs to swim with for my dogs.  The waterfront can be such chaos...but somehow they all manage to get along and have a good time and it really wears them out.  Much easier on their joints as well, good low impact exercise for a large dog, if they are willing to do it.  I always enjoy watching the dogs to see who is a "shore" dog, and who is a "swimmer".  It doesn't always follow the lines of breeding.  I particularly love the dogs who go against their breeding and love to swim, even though it is not part of their inherent nature.  I guess I appreciate anyone who is willing to color outside of the lines.

Chuck-It!

For those of you who are unfamiliar, a "Chuck-It" is a tool that allows you to pick up a slobbery, muddy, disgusting tennis ball and wing it across a field without ever having to get your hands dirty.  Basically, think about a 20 inch long flexible stick with a claw on the end that a tennis ball fits into, but which releases it when you make a throwing motion.  In addition to the advantage of  not having to touch the ball...it saves your back from having to bend all of the way over to pick it up in the first place.  Seriously, if you have any dog who likes to retrieve, a Chuck-It is your best friend.

Like a pair of good sunglasses,  a Chuck-It will tend to find it's way into the same black hole that eats one sock.  Especially if you are a dog walker, and are at the park all of the time with several dogs.  You forget it by the field, leave it in the paddock while leashing the dogs, or my favorite, drive off with it on the bumper of your truck.  I am not by nature a forgetful person, but I do occasionally get distracted.  I cannot tell you how many gloves I have lost this way, but I will say, I am the only dog walker I know who has managed to hang onto one Chuck-It for more than seven years.  I have had to go back and get it on several occasions, but have always been fortunate enough to find it. 

Recently I had to start breaking in a new one however.  And yesterday I finally had to have a funeral for my original.  The claw, after that many years of use, has finally been chewed to the point where it won't pick up a ball anymore.  And if I do manage to get the ball to "stick"...i cannot throw with accuracy with it...which is dangerous for man and dog alike if they are out on the field.  So goodbye bright green Chuck-It...you served me well.  Hello deluxe "Eddie Bauer" edition.

And no, I did not splurge, it was a gift from a client, and I LOVE the padded handle.  In the interest of full disclosure, two of my clients work for the company that invented the "Chuck-It"...this entry has not been a paid advertisement, they don't even know I've written it.  I used their product before I ever became their dogs' best friend.  I love my Chuck-It.  I take pride in my ability to launch a ball farther than most, and with great accuracy.  I've even got a few fancy moves for throwing grounders.  New dark green Chuck-It, I hope you hang around for a long while.

Crazy Dog!

I was reminded of a cat I once lived with.  No, you never really "own" a cat, they just allow you into the house.  This cat was an enormous barn cat from the WSU Dairy.  He had huge fangs that never really fit inside of his mouth, and his claws didn't retract all of the way.  But he was a completely gentle soul unless you put on a pair of work gloves we had with long gauntlets.  Then he'd pin your arms...and take no hostages.

Anyway, the reason he came to mind was I watched Sabine...the little white squeak toy, go totally "crazy dog" yesterday.  By crazy dog I mean...she tucked her little tail down and ran in crazy circles as fast as her little body would carry her just for the joy of running.  And as she was doing this, Miss Maisy decided to chase her, except Maisy is a much larger dog, and couldn't quite keep up, and it ended up with Sabine behind Maisy.  The cat used to have a "friend" squirrel who lived in a tree in the back yard.  He was actually raising a family there.  I cannot tell you how often we looked out to see cat chasing squirrel.  Cat was faster, but squirrel could turn on a dime...and how often you'd see them race across the yard one direction with squirrel in lead, only to return in the other direction with cat in the lead.

Sorta miss that cat.

OPD...Other People's Dogs

So one of the wonderful things about what I do is that I get to play with more than just "my dogs".  The dog park is a place where you will often find the same people and their pets at about the same time...we all have our schedules.  So often, the dogs in my pack will have play buddies in other packs.  Dogs they get along with, and occasionally, dogs that aren't that fond of each other.

Wally is one of those dogs.  He is at the park with his "dad" most days.  Wallie is a greyhound rescue, and he LOVES Ollie.  But Thursday I didn't have Ollie with me and an interesting thing happened.  Wally played with Benny.  Wally and Benny have never really played with each other.  Ollie and Benny play really hard with each other and really enjoy each other when other dogs aren't around, but when they can find another playmate at the park, they do.  It is as if they say, "well, we can play anytime so let's enjoy these guys while we can."  So when Ollie plays with Wally, Benny will find someone else to play with.

Friday, we were back at the park and Ollie got to play with Wally, Benny wasn't there.  So on Tuesday I am looking forward to seeing what the dynamic will be now that they have each played separately.  Will it become a threesome?  Will they be unable to share?  Should be interesting.  Most days at the dog park are!

Macrame

Leash walks are sometimes the best option for certain dogs.  Sometimes the whole dog park experience just doesn't meet their needs.  Either they don't have the manners for it, or it is too much exercise for them.  If you have ever seen a dog walker with oh, say ten dogs on leash at one time, I am sure your first thought was...how the heck do they do that?  Well, I can tell you, it is not always easy. 

I have one group of three that I take together than usually do pretty well, and they are quite the group.  Elliot is a bit-bull mix and is the oldest and largest of the three.  He is sort of a "Darwin" dog.  He does fantastic with people, but tends to want to help natural selection on by eliminating the meek and aged dogs.  Basically, he is a bully.  So the dog park is not the place for Elliot. 

Hank is a skinny butt dog.  He came from Taiwan and is exactly the opposite of Elliot.  He is the best dog park dog I've ever had.  He will play with any dog matching the other dogs level of temperament and play exactly.  He can be aggressive with aggressive dogs, and gentle with gentle dogs.  I have seen him play with the smallest of dogs, and Danes.  He plays chase, he wrestles, he plays tug, and he'll fetch if that is what is asked of him.  So why is he getting leash walked?  Well, Hank has a little issue with humans.  If I could get all of the people to leave the park, things would be perfect.  But as that isn't going to happen, he did almost two years in a cage muzzle.  Only had to wear it in the park, didn't mind it, and the cage variety allowed him to pant and drink and do everything he normally would, but not take a piece out of the humans.  Now that we've gotten him through his teen years, past the Hank the Destroyer stage, he leash walks very happily, and he and Elliot are able to function really well together.

Finally, there is Moki.  Moki is the middle child of the three.  He is the smallest by far, but the biggest Chihuahua I have ever seen.  He would be fine at the park, but since his two companions can't go, he gets stuck with them, such a middle child.  With the two big dominant dogs, you'd expect Moki to be their victim.  But if you watch their interaction carefully, Moki is actually the trouble maker.  He instigates all of the trouble the other two get get into.  Ultimately, I think Moki is the one who rules the roost.

So walking these three together involves a lot of good coordination and footwork.  It is like a ballet, switching leashes from hand to hand, behind my back, and stepping over whoever happens to be attempting to trip me at the moment.  There are essentially two kinds of walks.  Walker in control...dogs following, or dogs being allowed to follow their noses, walker keeping them safe...The latter is what these guys get, hence the ballet.  Sometimes I swear they are actually attempting to macrame a straight jacket for me!

The complete upper body workout!

I love me some Ollie, but he is seriously into his teenage years.  He spent last month finding every possible way to break out of his yard.  He is absolutely impossible to wear out.  The neighbor has a large kennel in his yard, so the neighbors finally started putting him in "doggie jail" when they found him roaming.  At least he is a good natured boy and comes right away when he hears my truck.  I cannot tell you how many days I ended up down in his neighborhood early because he was on the loose again.  Some dogs just have a knack for escape...we used to say my first dog's middle name was Houdini for that very reason.

Ollie goes on long runs three days each week, and dog parks it the other two.  Financially that is what works for his owner, so we are doing our best to keep him content on that.  When I first started running with him, he was such a good boy.  Ran along with me like the well mannered dog he will someday become.  Since his descent into teenage insanity, not so much.  I think of our runs as cardio and resistance training all rolled into one.  We set a nice pace and are moving along, then zoom, off we go at warp speed after a squirrel...and around the tree, tied into knots, complete stop.  Untie, redirect, get started again and wham...towing an anchor...the grass is particularly sweet and yummy right here.  Back to pace and, left turn up a front path because there is a dog over there....

I know I should be able to train this dog to run, focused on me and ignoring all of the distractions.  I am a professional, it is my job.  And I am working on it.  I guess I am just saying - it's not going so well!  But I am getting a fantastic workout in the process!

My Girl Friend's Back!

And she wasn't any trouble!  Nuala returned to the pack yesterday after her week of vacation.  When her family is away, Nuala gets to go to the doggie spa for the week...actually, I think it is a ranch that she is sent to.  In the past, our first day back with her has been problematic, but this time I was prepared. 

Terriers in general are pretty smart dogs.  They are much like two year olds, boundary testing is their job.  If you stay on top of them they can be fantastic but if they notice a chink in your resolve, if just one time they don't have to follow the rules, then things can go a bit haywire.  For example, if you must sit before going through a doorway...you have to sit EVERY time.  The first time a door is magically opened for you while you are still on all fours, then you don't have to sit anymore, ever - because who would want to.

Nuala is like that after a week at the spa.  Why would I possibly need her to wait to have a leash on before walking down to the car...and why would she take herself into the paddock at the end of our park time.  Of course I should need to "get" her (as if I could catch her)!  Come has no meaning anymore. 

Fortunately, we have been down that road before, and I was the one who learned my lesson.  So Nuala was thwarted by a door only opened a crack before I could catch her leash, and a leash over the last 100 meters before we got to the paddock so we could leave on my schedule rather than hers.  All in all, a pretty good solution, and by next week, I am sure she will be back to her usual stellar self...for the most part.

Maisy goes vertical!

We have lift off!  Yesterday after her play time at the water, Maisy walked straight up to my truck as if she owned it, and when I opened the back door she jumped right in...no boost from me needed!  How fantastic is THAT!  The last few trips I've managed to bribe her to put her paws up onto the bed of the truck, and then I have hoisted her back end in for her...even getting those front paws up took a lot of patience and work.  And even when I picked her up that morning, she shied from the truck a couple of times and needed some good ear scratches to reassure her that it was okay to get in...so jumping in all by herself was a huge step...I cannot wait for Wednesday to see if she will continue to be the confident dog I know she can be.

She has two Monday playmates she loves, and knows from outside of my dog pack.  Chloe and Sabine.  They are lowchen...the little lion dogs, not a dog you would usually mentally equate with a lab, but these two are very suited.  Chloe is a lab in the water.  She swims and retrieves as if she were meant to be a water dog.  Of course she also has no undercoat to keep her warm so she comes out of the lake shivering.  But just try to keep her away from the water, she lives to swim and that little tiny dog will DRAG me to the water if need be.  Getting her out is a totally different story.  I keep a long line on her so I stand some chance.  Before the long line I had to wade in up to my waist a couple of times to get her...not my favorite thing to do in January.  She truly will stay out and swim away long past the time when her body temperature becomes dangerous if I let her.

Her little sister, Sabine, is still a puppy, but what a puppy.  She has not taken up her sister's swimming obsession, thank goodness.  However, she stayed with us here when she was quite small, and apparently has never actually looked in a mirror.  In her mind, she is my dog Mac...the big black lab.  She is basically the size of my foot.  Small, white, and bouncy.  But at the park she is nose to nose with the big dogs all the time.  She bounces up to them, plays chase and basically acts as if she is 75 lbs of dog.  She even does some stalking...very sweet. 

As you can imagine, the big dogs are quite curious about what that bunny looking thing is, but generally determine her to be dog quite quickly, and we don't have problems.  Every once in a while one will decide rabbit, however, and try to roll her.  Most of the time she handles this with aplomb.  Yesterday, she made the mistake of letting out a yip...and an entire pack of dogs discovered the coolest squeak toy they'd ever seen, because it could run!  She climbed some poor man like she was a cat, with the pack hot on her tail.  She really was fine, and was right back down amongst the dogs as soon as possible so that she didn't develop any terrors.  But hopefully she'll learn that the yip is not the answer.

My Newest Love

I have a new dog to wrangle.  Her name is Maisy and she is a yellow lab.  Adding new dogs to the pack can be interesting.  Maisy has been with me three days now, and I am looking forward to seeing how it goes today. 

It always amazes me how quickly new dogs acclimate to the pack, and how well the pack educates a new member.  That first trip to the off leash area can be a little stressful.  Both on the dog, and on me.  My major concerns are always, of course, socialization and recall.  In other words, am I going to see appropriate doggie behavior with the other dogs - in my truck, and at the park?  Is the newbie going to stay with me, and come to me when it is time to leave? 

For the dogs, it is stressful because they are meeting more than one dog at a time, they are unfamiliar with riding in the truck, and they really don't know where they are going.  Once we get to the park, they generally do well, mostly due to the fact they are stressed so they stay close to the only thing they know (me) the first trip or two.  Roamers don't generally manifest until they are comfortable with the routine.  Hopefully by that time they have learned my whistle, and follow the pack when I call for them.  And yes, it is always my whistle.  Can you just imagine trying to give a good "Maisy Come" call to each of  5 or 6 dogs at a time...We'd never get anywhere.

At one time I had a wonderful female in my pack, Ginger.  She was an older Golden Retriever who had raised several litters.  She took it upon herself, to "educate" each new dog as they joined our group.  She really made my job easy, and I miss her dear soul.  Fortunately, since the passing of Ginger, I have had pretty good luck with new dogs. 

Maisy has been great for the most part.  But we are working on the "into the truck" part.  It seems she has no idea she can jump...and she shies for no apparent reason, even just walking along at the park.  She is a bit nervous in general.  So we have been working on this, and I had great success with her on Monday.  Nothing like lots of reassurance outside of the truck before I even open the door, and "doggie crack" placed into the bed of the truck as a bribe.  Returning from the park Monday she even got her front paws up onto the bed.   I am looking forward to seeing how it goes this morning.

So I say Maisy is a bit nervous...but there is one place that just doesn't apply.  Once we hit the lake shore she looses her mind.  Maisy loves to swim, and to "retrieve".  Unfortunately, Maisy, like many labs, has ADD.  She wants to get ALL of the balls, sticks, rocks and other toys as they go into the water, leaving the prior item wherever she happens to be when she spots the latest.   So, typically, you throw a ball for her, she swims out to it, picks it up, sees another item, leaves the ball, goes for that one...and proceeds to swim around chasing everything and returning nothing for several minutes at a time.  Fortunately for Maisy, she gets to go with her friend Ollie today, and he follows the same philosophy...I expect to have a fine time watching them in the sunshine!

Nuala the Lunatic!

This week is vacation for me...well, not really because I rarely get away.  But this week I have one less dog to care for.  One wouldn't think one dog would make that much difference, but Nuala has BIG personality.  She also happens to be one of my favorite dogs, but every once in a while it is nice to take a break from those we love.

Nuala is a Wheaten Terrier.  Nuala appears to have a severe case of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder).  Not unusual in a terrier, but really she has the most amazing case of terrier brain I have ever experienced. 

Nuala is only a knee high dog, but I end up looking her in the face most of the time, she bounces.  And she is fantastically trained not to jump up on people, well, on their front side...so often you will find her bouncing off of your back side....just a gentle tap of the feet to let you know she's needing you, in case you'd somehow missed it.

Nuala's game is fetch...tennis ball & chuck it fetch...she is definitely keeping my arm in shape.  And she retrieves really well most of the time, unless another dog makes a serious move for her ball, or I don't throw it exactly where she wants it, in which case she just turns around and asks me to throw another ball for her...easily done when we have a multitude of balls to choose from, not such a great game when we have the only ball around.  Then I end up fetching...traipsing a hundred yards at a time across a field, on her whim. 

My favorite thing though, is that Nuala doesn't want me to feel like I am missing out on the fun, so when she does bring it back, she thanks me for the game of fetch by playing hide and seek with me.  She loops around behind me where I can't see her, and deposits her ball behind a tree or bench or any other thing that will cause me to have to search for it.  Barring the ability to do that...she will find the muddiest, deepest puddle possible, and place the ball in the middle....if I cannot seek, I must wade.

And Nuala does have a special affinity for puddles.  Her game....pee in them.  Every one she comes to.  Combine this, with Ollie, my mud puddle sponge (see my earlier blog for more info on that), and you can see why a trip to the hose bib is required for Ollie after each park trip.

Which brings us to Nuala's mud velcro.  Imagine trying to bathe a cat who just doesn't want to be bathed.  That is the same effect you get if you try to hose Nuala down.  Her owners have told me to just do my best to towel her off, and leave it at that.  Honestly, mud sticks to her like Velcro, and doesn't let go until it dries.  I cannot imagine how they manage to keep their home clean...I do my best, but she is just a mess when I am done with her.

So that is what I am missing out on this week.  My groups have not been nearly as interesting without her injection of high energy.  Benny is doing his best, as a good terrier will, to fill the void. But really, no one is as Nuala as, well Nuala.  She's sort of a Nualatic!

Do Over!

Okay, perhaps I need a do-over on the whole blogging idea.  So  I am starting anew, with every intention of keeping it up this time.  Today was a day I have my favorite little Rat Terrier - Benson.  Benson (Benny) is usually either the biggest, or the smallest dog in my pack, depending upon the day.  When I pick up Benny he expects two things.  First, he expects Nuala (the wheaten terrier) to grump at him when he gets into the vehicle.  Second, he expects Ollie (the golden retriever) to wrestle. 

So from Benny's house, until I reach the park...well, shall we say, the truck it is a-rockin'.  I often see the people on Benny's street look very concerned as I drive by...concerned for Benny's well being.  What they don't know, but I can see, is that it is Benny on top of Ollie, straddling his neck and chewing on this face that is causing all of the ruckus. 

 Benson (Benny) gets along with everyone at the park.  He loves to play chase, he loves to wrestle, he loves to check out the people.  He never vocalizes, and generally he listens very well.  Unfortunately for the small dogs, he is taking all of the tricks the larger dogs are teaching him, and using them on the smaller dogs....On those days, he is the one greeting the dogs with a grump when they load into the back end.  He also goes from being the little dog underfoot mouthing up at the larger dogs, to being the larger dog with little miss Sabine mouthing up at him.

My favorite Benny move though is his Vulture stance.  He loves to step onto large rocks, place all four feet into one place, and lean.  I mean really lean, out over the edge.  His balance is amazing.  I have even seen him manage this maneuver on a log in the water at the lake...while it was washing back and forth in the waves...like a log roller.  Pretty amazing little guy.  Definitely a keeper!

Dirt + Rain = Mud!

I am sure this will come to a shock to everyone, but it often rains in Seattle.  Especially this time of year.  Last night was an exceptional night for rain.  Thus, when I picked up Ollie today, a great deal of the topsoil from his backyard had already been re-distributed to his kitchen and livingroom floors, not to mention his sofa - and this was BEFORE I took him to the park.

I refer to Ollie as my "sponge" dog.  He firmly believes it is his responsiblity to attempt to soak up all standing water he comes across with his big shaggy golden retriever body.  It's not that he just lays down in it.  He ROLLS in it...all the way over, making sure to get both sides and his back in addition to his belly.  The muddier Ollie is, the happier he is.  Of course he also wants to share the joy with everyone he meets at the park, dog and human alike.  The dogs all think it is great.  Fortunately for the humans, he does NOT jump up on people at the park, but has been known to leave his calling card when brushing past them.  With respect to his attention, the people fall into two categories.  1)  "My aren't you having a good time" spoken with a huge smile as they greet him and 2)  "Ugh, you'll never get your car clean"  spoken while backing away as quickly as possible. 

I am firmly in the "that looks like it feels good" camp.  Dog parks are for dogs, let them be dogs.  Humans should dress with that in mind.

Peace.

First Post - What have I done?

Well goodness, what am I thinking?  Actually, starting this blog has been on my mind for several years - but I cannot believe I am actually doing it!

So, here is my deal.  I have been a dog walker for many years, and come home every day and entertain my family and friends with stories of the goofy things that occur at the dog park every day.  So, if you have ever owned your own dog, I think you will relate to my stories.  If you wish you could, but can't, perhaps these tales will help by giving you a "doggie fix".  And if you aren't a dog person, but are willing to be entertained, you may just find something here for you as well.

I am off to the park...can't wait to tell you about it later! 

Peace