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.