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.