Carpe K-9

Seconds between Safety and Sadness

2011-08-01T22:00:00.008-04:00

I was never the crossing guard at my elementary school. I jaywalk sometimes when I'm walking alone. I exceed the speed limit on the highway when conditions are good and traffic is flowing well. The stairs on my deck leading down into the yard have no railing on them. My anti-virus software is not 100% up-to-date.

I'm no saint when it comes to safety.

But I'm far from a sinner, either. I wear my seat belt every time I'm in a car. I wear my helmet when I scooter--and I would anyway, even if it wasn't a law. I never, ever wear flip-flops, because I'm afraid I'll twist my ankle being clumsy or stub my toe (and for dog's sake, what if I have to run somewhere suddenly? Flip-flops aren't shoes!). I don't tailgate, change lanes without a turn signal, or pass on the right. Even though my dogs are trained, I leash them when we are near traffic.

Safety matters to me. (No, that is NOT ME or anyone I know in that photo.)

I crate my dogs in the car, and encourage my students to do the same--and if crating's not an option due to the size of the dog or the size of the car, I encourage them to use seatbelt harnesses. I tell them to not allow their dogs off-leash until they are responding immediately to the come command in every possible situation. I tell them to never, ever crate two dogs in the same crate--no matter how much they "love each other." I teach them to hold their leash properly, make their dogs wait at doorways, avoid retractable leashes, and to pay attention to what they are doing at all times.

To potential adopters with whom I speak, I strongly recommend crate training for safety and structure. It's a "dogsend" for any dog going into a new situation, and it can avert serious accidents or problems with a dog you really don't know much about. This seems odd to many people, because they assume the dog they are adopting knows more than it does. But the bottom line is that this dog has never lived in your home. Keep him safe, and keep your other pets safe from his exuberance or lack of training, until you know each other better.

I'd never, ever leave a dog I don't know alone with other dogs (or kids, of course). But people do it. And because, like many things with the potential to cause harm, it usually works out, many people seem to think it always will. Until it doesn't.

I incorporate these messages into my classes and all my lessons. It takes a bit of extra time, but I know it's worth it.

I have horror stories from former students and potential clients, from friends and neighbors, from internet acquaintances and message board posters about What Could Go Wrong.

A woman adopts an adult dog with no known negative history from a shelter on Tuesday. On Thursday she is petsitting a friend's small dog, and leaves her new dog and that dog alone in the house while she runs errands. She comes home to find the small dog dead. Was the dog she adopted truly dog aggressive? Or did he simply see the small dog as prey?

The above story is not an isolated incident.

A student of mine called me in tears. She'd been working to wean her adolescent Shepherd mix out of the crate during the day (something I absolutely agree with, done in small bursts with well-trained dogs). She came home to find her dog had suffocated inside a potato chip bag he'd found in the kitchen.

I cannot imagine the horror and guilt she felt upon finding her precious companion this way. I know it tore her up. It was an accident. It was random. It was freakish. No one would ever think it could happen. But it did.

(Yes, I am aware that crates themselves can kill dogs. Collars get caught and dogs strangle, or they try to escape the crate and impale or horribly injure themselves in the process. I am not saying crating is 100% safe for all dogs, and I completely understand why someone would avoid it if the above had happened to them or someone they knew. I still say that properly crate-trained dogs are safest, overall.

As for collars, accidents abound there, as well. Chain training collars left on dogs can and do choke them. Pinch collars get caught on fencing, in other dog's teeth, and on other dog's collars. Even regular buckle collars can strangle dogs in some situations. I still collar my dogs, each and every one. For my dogs, the risks of collaring are miniscule when compared with the risks of not collaring. This is not true for everyone, but I believe it is true for most of my students and regular pet owners. If you are leery of collaring for the above reasons, you should try a breakaway collar.)

Some people simply do not understand that certain situations pose safety risks for ourselves and our pets. Many people suffer from the "it hasn't happened to me yet; therefore, it won't happen" syndrome. How often do you see dogs being carried loose in the beds of pickup trucks? Dogs on retractable leashes on busy streets straining at the end of the leash (at least 16 feet away from the handler, probably more) while the handler talks on a cell phone? Dogs off-leash on busy roadways? Small dogs left on balconies with very wide guard rails? Dogs left in closed (or partially open) cars on hot days? People bringing Chihuahua-sized dogs into dog parks (in the "large dog" section)? People leaving leashes and training collars on dogs at the dog park? People bringing their pets to fireworks celebrations? The list is endless.

And in addition to the "it hasn't happened so it can't happen" folks are the "bristlers." They are the ones who cannot handle any kind of criticism, who react immediately to other people "getting in their business" when it comes to pets or kids, even if they are doing something horribly unsafe. They scream, curse, yell, give you the finger, or attempt to harm you bodily if you even so much as suggest that what they are doing might pose a risk.

Haven't had this happen? The next time you see a dog in a hot car with the windows up, wait by the car for the owner to appear, and politely (and I mean, politely--be almost ingratiatingly polite) explain to them the risks they are placing on their dog. I can bet you $100 that they will not say, "Oh, thank you! I didn't know that. I won't do it again, and I really appreciate you bringing it to my attention." Well, at least not without dripping sarcasm, anyway. Be prepared to flee their unbridled wrath. (There's a blog post coming soon that talks about the inability to handle criticism. I've been "brewing" it for a while.)

I honestly don't think I look for safety risks; they just pop out at me. I notice them like lotharios notice buxom girls. And once I spot them, I can't "unsee" them, unfortunately. I see the potential for harm to happen to the pet or child in the scenario like a movie playing in my head. And it makes me angry.

Every day, we take risks. If we are smart and being rational, we calculate these risks instead of simply tossing caution to the wind. What has occurred in one's past will most definitely affect the risks one takes in the future. Often, critical thinking doesn't play a part in risk assessment in conjunction with events that have occurred to us before; we react in an emotional, non-rational way. It's all part of the human experience.

We also laugh derisively at the multitude of warnings now placed on everyday items that seem so ludicrously unnecessary, but let me tell you: if the warning is there, that means that someone, somewhere was injured by that product because they did the ridiculous thing. How does the saying go? Build an object that is 'idiot-proof' and they will simply build a bigger idiot."

What can we do to make our lives, and the lives of those who depend on us, such as our pets and our children, the best they can be? Calculated risk is an important part of life. Throwing caution to the wind in situations where mistakes cannot be undone is a recipe for sadness.

Be safe.

There are seconds between safety and sadness...a razor-thin line of them. ~Sarah Wilson

The Kindest Call

2011-07-20T18:46:00.018-04:00

Have you ever been out for a walk in your neighborhood, or anywhere, with or without your dog, and had a loose dog menace or attack you? It's a terrifying experience, especially when you look around for an owner--or anyone to help as the dog is coming toward you with negative intent--and see no one. You feel helpless. Even if you are not normally afraid of dogs, or even consider yourself a dog lover, being menaced by a loose dog is an experience everyone wants to avoid.

Depending on where you live, this may be a common occurrence, sadly. I get calls on a weekly basis (and regular queries from my students) about how to handle it if a dog is approaching with intent. There is no one answer that works in every situation as the moment is unfolding; putting something between you and the dog is your best hope if you don't want to carry "doggy mace."

Once the incident is over, though (hopefully sans injuries, but take care of those first if they do happen), there is something important you simply must do. Call your local Animal Control (typically in your county or municipality) and report the incident, giving as much detail about the dog and the situation as you can. If you live in an area that is prone to this sort of unpleasantness, have Animal Control on speed dial so you won't forget to call them.

Many people have reservations about reporting loose dogs or inhumane circumstances with pets to Animal Control. Though no one appreciates being harassed by dangerous or potentially aggressive animals, and no one likes to see suffering, when told to “call Animal Control,” many people blanch at the thought. They don’t want to get their neighbors in trouble, and they worry about what will become of the animals that are picked up. But if you don’t call Animal Control, an agency that your tax dollars are funding to keep you and the animals in your community safe, then who will report the situation? Many people complain about roaming animals, and some are so worried that their own dog’s exercise needs suffer. They have been attacked or menaced before, and now can only walk their own dogs at certain times of day, if at all. Some wonder, “why doesn’t Animal Control do something?" Well, how will they know there is a problem if you don’t report it? Don't assume someone else has reported it. If they haven't, your call is vital. If it's already been reported, your call is more proof that Animal Control is needed urgently in that area.

What happens to the dog you report should not be more important to you than your own personal safety, the safety of your children and neighbors, and the safety of your own pets.

Dog owners are losing our rights on a daily basis, it seems. I see links to stories pretty frequently regarding breed bans, dangerous dog ordinances, crackdowns on leash laws (which are not necessarily a bad thing, but it's hard on dog owners when municipalities go from "no enforcement" to "strict enforcement"), and more. Many insurance companies have started dropping homeowners for simply owning a “suspect” breed, regardless of the dog’s temperament. Public places are not as open to dogs, even well-behaved ones. Law-abiding pet owners end up being demonized for doing nothing wrong because irresponsible people have given dog owners in general a bad name.

Reporting abuse and loose dogs to Animal Control is a civic duty. Pets that belong to irresponsible people are a hazard and a nuisance, and the owners need to be taken to task for it. One call might not get action, but 2, 3, or more calls will. How is it fair for irresponsible people to “get off the hook” when their actions jeopardize YOUR safety, and the safety of your pets? Animal Control has the police power to write citations and bring charges when needed. They are a valuable resource to the responsible pet owner. They are the ones who can go after the irresponsible pet owners in your area, and wth the right evidence, get convictions. You could provide that evidence.

(For those of you who will say that you regularly call A.C. and yet there are still dogs being abused and neglected in your area, I cannot defend this. I never said the agency works perfectly everywhere; it's often short-shrifted in budgets, unfortunately. What you need to know is this: in many places, without evidence, at least 2 witnesses, and a perpetrator, a case cannot be made for abuse. These safeguards exist to protect owners' legal rights, and that means you, too.

If an animal has access to shelter, food and water, even if you don't agree with its living conditions, A.C. may not be able to cite the owner or remove the animal. Check with your A.C. so that you know. And hold their feet to the fire if they are truly not doing their jobs.)

If you are not calling Animal Control because you don’t want the loose dog to be euthanized, I can sympathize with your large heart. I really can. But know this: in many cities, being picked up by Animal Control is not necessarily a “death sentence,” especially when the animal isn’t aggressive. Many Animal Control facilities have their own adoption programs, and some work with rescue groups to reduce the euthanasia rate. It isn't near perfect, but in many places, it is getting better.

(Yeah, I know about the pit bull problem: in some places any dog picked up that even remotely resembles a pit bull is euthanized immediately, regardless of temperament. Pit bull lovers hate this, and I can't say I blame them. I'll address this in a future post.)

However, a dog that bites, scratches, or attacks people or other pets (breed is irrelevant here) is a danger to your community. You can bet that you are not the only responsible pet owner or neighbor affected by him. He needs to be caught (safely, by professionals). If he turns out to be a placeable, adoptable animal, then he probably has a chance at a new home.

Regardless, why are you allowing the well-being of an unknown, potentially sick, aggressive or potentially-aggressive dog to trump your right to a safe neighborhood? Putting his well-being above your own (and the humans and other pets in your neighborhood) is misguided. I know, I know—“it’s not his fault; he shouldn’t have to pay with his life because some idiot didn’t take care of him.” He shouldn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that he is very likely a danger.

Which of the problems at hand (free-roaming dog is menacing/attacking people but he'll be put down if I have him picked up) gets to trump the other? In my book, safety wins. What happens to the dog you report once Animal Control picks it up should not be more important to you than your own personal safety, the safety of your children and neighbors, and the safety of your own pets.

Do you think that, if you don't call them, the problem will go away on its own? Maybe the dog will be taken in by a kindly stranger and suddenly become a nice house pet? The likelihood that it will be hit by a car, poisoned, or starve to death is greater.

If you have a run-in with a loose dog or an irresponsible owner, or you see abuse or neglect, report it. (In some cities, you can do this anonymously.) Do it more than once if you have to. Don’t automatically assume the worst of Animal Control, especially if you've never dealt with them. Your taxes pay them to keep you safe.

Sometimes, it is truly the kindest call you can make.

The Space Between the Notes

2010-12-04T22:05:00.014-05:00

Most dog owners are pretty familiar with how to meet a dog’s basic needs. These include quality food, fresh water, proper shelter, proper grooming, and veterinary care. Dogs require the above primary needs to survive.

Many dog owners also understand that dogs have additional needs, as well. The ones they typically recognize are proper identification, exercise, affection, playtime, and training (house manners and obedience). These secondary needs enable dogs to not just survive, but thrive. Dogs are incredibly adaptable, and can survive without the above, but they will not be their best, or their happiest. Their humans will also be frustrated with their behavior, too, and may elect to relinquish them.

What many dog owners do not know is that dogs have additional secondary needs, also needed to thrive. These are:

· Confinement
· Structure
· Elimination of confusion
· Mental stimulation
· “Work”
· Passive bonding
· Stress reduction
· Leadership

Though all dogs benefit from the above, some need less of each, and some need more, and some need different tools to get there. Every dog has personality differences, and different breeds have different specific needs.

People are sometimes quite surprised to find that the Corgi (or German shepherd, or Dalmatian, or Lab, etc.) that they acquire in adulthood acts differently than the one they grew up with. Personalities vary within breeds, and even within individual litters. And let’s not forget the concept of “selective memory”: many people’s memories of their beloved, long-dead childhood pets are rosy and sentimental. They tend to forget the hardships (or the fact that Mom or Dad actually trained the dog) and mistakes.

That's me above, circa about 1977, with the dog we got when I was 5, a Springer spaniel named Hanna. I helped a little with her training, and she really was a friendly dog. But I'm sure my whole family whitewashes her; I can't recall a single bad thing she ever did. However, I would not own the breed again, so my whitewashed memories do not override what I've learned the last 30 years.

This "rose-colored glasses" syndrome isn't just associated with our pets, either. Neuroscientist blogger Patrick, on the blog veryevolved.com, writes

It’s not surprising to say nostalgia is all about memories. These recollections of our past are usually important events, people we care about, and places we’ve spent time at. What is perhaps a little surprising is that nostalgia is almost always associated with positive emotions – even when the trigger for recalling a nostalgic memory is something negative. In the study I’ve linked to [link is broken] the negative memory people reported was usually a bad situation that was eventually overcome – a bad memory tempered with a good outcome and association.

Sorry for the digression, but I talk to people on a daily basis who are dealing with this syndrome. I hope to write more about "the dog you have, not the dog you wanted to have" sometime in the future.

Anyway, let’s look at each of these additional secondary needs briefly:

CONFINEMENT enables the dog to make fewer mistakes in the home when he first arrives, until training “takes.” Crates are the most effective confinement tool, but other tools can work. All dogs in a new situation need confinement when they are not being directly supervised. And contrary to what some people believe, the majority of dogs appreciate confinement, especially during that somewhat stressful acclimation period but often throughout their entire lives, more than you’d think.

STRUCTURE is what helps dogs relax and understand boundaries. It involves consistency and predictable consequences. Dogs do not need or want to be completely “free” and unstructured. The vast majority of pet dogs value structure over pure freedom. It’s a lot less scary to know exactly what’s ahead, right? A shelter dog put into a new home situation and left to his own devices can suffer a mild meltdown. I've often written and said that shelter dogs are not in shelters because of too much structure--they are often there because they never received enough. For children and pets, proper structure is a gift of love.

ELIMINATION OF CONFUSION is training, done with lots of rewards for the right behavior and clear instruction to help the dog “get it.” Set him up for success so that mistakes are fewer, and correct dispassionately if you catch him “in the act,” or, ideally, just prior. (A correction can be anything from an attention-getting "EH-EH!" to a leash "pop", always followed by redirection and reward.) Do not punish after-the-fact. Nearly all dog misbehaviors are the human’s fault. It’s not fair to be confusing. If you ever find yourself saying, “But he KNOWS better!” it’s very likely that he actually doesn’t. So show him.

MENTAL STIMULATION keeps the brain from getting bored. Many destructive behaviors stem from lack of mental stimulation. Use interactive toys (such as the I.Qube at left), daily walks with obedience thrown in, car rides and outings, nosework, and mental games like hide-n-seek or “Find It.” Dogs with jobs are happier than dogs without. And one of the coolest things about mental stimulation is that it tires dogs out as well as (or sometimes better than) physical exercise. Most pet dogs are vastly understimulated mentally.

WORK is part of your dog’s heritage. All dogs were bred for a specific purpose, even the toy breeds. (Sitting on royal laps is a vocation!) Learn your dog’s tendencies, and give him appropriate jobs to do. There are tons of dog sports or activities you can become involved in, even as an amateur, but it need not necessarily be intensive—even obedience and “fetch” can be work for “less intense” breeds and mixes. Work provides mental stimulation, too.

And do not acquire a field-bred dog or high-drive breed if you aren’t going to actually work him in the sport or job to which he was bred, or as close a variation as you can. It’s unfair.

The Belgian Malinois is a beautiful, alert, high-drive dog bred for police work. The breed excels at bitework (pictured above). It does NOT make a good pet for the average (or even above-average) household.

Active bonding happens when you are your dog interact. When you play, cuddle, do obedience work, dog sports, or tricks, or walk your dog with purpose, that’s active bonding. You and your dog are in tandem, fulfilling each other’s needs actively and purposefully. But what about when you aren’t doing that stuff?

“Music is the space between the notes.” ~Claude Debussy

PASSIVE BONDING keeps the relationship humming. It is the space between the notes of activity. Passive bonding is watching TV/reading/knitting/working while your dog lies sleeping at your feet. It can be the dog sleeping in bed with you (if he’s earned it). It’s the dog gnawing a favorite chewy or toy while you hang out with your spouse, or even alone. For new puppy owners, passive bonding is taking place when your pup sleeps in his crate in the room with you (the sound of your breathing is comforting to him) as opposed to being crated in another room. Most dogs will fall asleep during this time, but that’s not a problem. What makes it passive bonding is that Fido is in the room with you, probably near you, maybe even touching you, but you are not actively interacting with him. Owners need self-control for this exercise (this is not “fondle time”), and some dogs are better at it than others. But all dogs can—and should—learn how to do it.

If you are constantly touching your dog, he is likely to become confused, neurotic, pushy, or even clingy, depending on his temperament. Our constant need to touch is more about what we want than what our dogs need. Ignoring the dog’s real needs increases stress and makes for an unhappy dog.

WHAT? Did I just tell you that you aren’t allowed to pet your dog? Absolutely not. That’s one of the main reasons people acquire dogs! Touch is important to both our species, but there is such a concept as “too much of a good thing.” Affection is necessary, soothing, lowers your blood pressure and releases a bonding hormone known as oxytocin, all positive things. But it should be (1) purposeful, (2) on your terms, and (3) not make up the bulk of your time with your pooch.

It's quite possible that you are, at this very moment, engaged in passive bonding with your dog as you read this; I was when I wrote it. (There's a cubby in my desk underneath my computer, and it's my JRT mix's favorite spot to be in as long as I'm working.)

STRESS REDUCTION helps your dog to feel safe in your world. The elimination of all stress is neither possible nor preferred, because in small amounts, stress aids the learning process. Without stress, we cannot grow. But our pets are subject to many types of unnecessary stress, and alleviating some of it makes a difference. Balanced training and structure are stress-relievers. Are you seeing a pattern here?

LEADERSHIP is the ultimate goal, the pinnacle, the summit. Dogs are born knowing they belong in a social group, and social groups always function more efficiently with a benevolent leader. Be the leader in your relationship with your dog, and he will be his very best. Leadership is about discipline, but not about force. Lack of leadership causes a host of behavioral problems, including many types of aggression. Want your pooch to worship you? Be a leader. Want him to “have your back”? Earn that respect by being clear, consistent, and following through.

Show Me

2010-10-11T23:20:00.010-04:00

Last weekend I attended a dog training seminar/workshop with my two favorite dog professionals, Sarah Wilson and Brian Kilcommons. Titled “Dealing with Difficult Dogs” and put on with the help of the Longmont (Colorado) Humane Society’s amazing behavior department (headed by Aimee Sadler, a phenomenal trainer in her own right who has made Longmont’s program training and socializing shelter dogs the best in the country), the seminar used shelter dogs and focused on the husband-and-wife team’s separate strengths: Brian’s difficult dogs are pushy, confident, “dominant,” and aggressively reactive. Sarah’s specialty is with shy or timid dogs, and less-aggressive reactive dogs—what she calls “deficit dogs.” Both focus on communication and connection, and both, thank Dog, focus on helping pet owners train their own dogs.

I know many dog trainers who have great training chops. They can take just about any dog and work magic before your eyes. I’ve learned a lot from them. But when they try to explain what they do to the novice pet owner, or show owners how to get the same results, or even explain to the audience how what they do works, they often choke. They just don’t have the “people chops” to create lasting change. Brian, and especially Sarah, do. And that’s one reason I will travel long distances to see them in action whenever possible. I had seen this seminar before, last year. But I knew if I attended again it would be slightly different, and I’d learn more. I was not disappointed.

I probably attend 1-3 dog training seminars and workshops every year, though the number is fewer this year because of the poor economy. I will occasionally attend lecture-only seminars, but I’d love to not have to. I need to spend what little money I have for “continuing education” on workshops that give me the best bang for my buck. Going to hear a dog trainer lecture—with nary a dog in sight—is usually a waste of my time, though the better ones of these have video accompaniment showing lots of footage of the speaker “walking the walk,” and a presentation style that leaves you wanting more. The lamest ones, I’m sorry to say, are strictly Powerpoint or someone promoting his or her book. Really? I could have read the book and saved myself the travel expenses, thank you.

(Actually, the lamest presentation by a so-called dog expert I ever saw was a traditionally “hot” young woman with her “world-renowned trick dog.” She underestimated her audience, a diverse group of canine professionals, who have more skills than she did, and worse, her dog would do nothing if she wasn’t shoving treats in the dog’s face. She simply had no visible relationship with the dog. As she tried to talk in between tricks, the dog ignored her “stay” command and wandered around the room, urinating on the floor and sticking its head into people’s purses or bags, searching for food. At one point, it put its paws on a table and stole some treats that were there. The entire time this was happening, the presenter was halfheartedly asking the dog to “stay” and shrugging and smiling like it was funny.

It was excruciating to watch. She seemed like a perfectly nice person, but her shtick didn’t impress. At all. "Nice" and "hot" were not what we paid to see. Note to presenters: if the dog you bring—your supposedly well-trained dog you have a bond with and have spent years training-- won’t listen to you while you talk, the audience won’t either. Yes, crap happens, but it was obvious this woman had not prepared for her presentation, which is disrespectful to the audience.

To top it off, more than half of her presentation was self-promotion, though not of her work. I consider it an epic fail.)

Sadly, many more so-called “professionals” hold workshops and seminars around the country every year and never work a single dog, or only show their highly-trained dog in action. I understand why sometimes having multiple strange dogs to demonstrate on might not be feasible (venue won’t allow it; seminar or conference too large; shelter dogs not available; audience doesn’t expect it; time constraints; etc.). But those tend to be lame excuses. More often than not, I suspect, it is a lack of confidence on the speaker’s part that he or she can “walk the walk” in front of the audience. I personally feel that some of these speakers plan their presentations so that having dogs there is not feasible—on purpose.

Why would they do this? Why not work some dogs at your dog training seminar? For some, it’s the aforementioned anxiety. For others, it’s because they know their methods do not fit neatly into a seminar format (this is especially true for the “positive only” crowd, a large—and unfortunately—powerful group who will, to the detriment of most dogs, do just about anything to avoid dogs getting any unpleasant information), or will not “show well.” I can excuse a tiny portion of this nonsense because I do not organize seminars or workshops and realize I don’t know all the logistics. Like I said before, I do occasionally spring for presentations wherein dog trainers simply talk about training and don’t actually do any. But I am less and less inclined to do so than I was 5, or even 3, years ago.

Mostly, these days I don’t pay unless there’s going to be some play. Ideally, the speaker will work multiple dogs that he or she does not know—and it’s better still if they are not the audience members’ no-longer-green dogs. Even better, the professional will let audience members work dogs while they offer feedback. To me, the true test of a good canine and human teacher is one who can take heretofore unseen dogs and show you the process of training in a short amount of time.

This is what Brian and Sarah do. And I respect the hell out of them for it. And I pay to see them whenever possible, because not only do I always learn a little something new, I want to support their efforts to improve the quality of training dogs get. I also want to support their methodology, which combines clear instruction with appropriate feedback—both positive (lots) and negative (enough). In their hands, dogs have “light bulb moments” rather frequently. It’s a joy to watch. It’s as positive and fun as any training you’ll ever see—and it’s incredibly effective.

Bonus: Sarah has umpteen videos on YouTube of her—surprise!--training dogs that are not hers. Many can be found at her phenomenal website and forums for dog owners, MySmartPuppy.com, and a great many are free.

It’s time for those who make a living training dogs and people to “put up or shut up.” If your methods are superior, show me. And don’t just show me with your already-trained dog of a breed commonly owned by dog trainers. Show me with a timid Chihuahua, an adolescent Basenji, an out-of-control, pushy Shepherd mix from the shelter. My demand to be shown especially applies to trainers who believe that all dogs can be trained with one tool, or in one way, or who ignore the laws of Nature and go out of their way to completely eliminate stress for the dog.

Show me you working the dog and getting results. Show me how you’ll translate that instruction to a novice pet owner without confusing scientific terms, grandstanding regarding tools, cockiness, a holier-than-thou attitude, and the assumption that pet owners are unworthy. Show me how your way will start getting results for novice pet owners in MINUTES, not days or weeks, and without incredibly detailed rules that novice pet owners will never adhere to. Show me how you’ll make the owner exclaim, “Wow. I really CAN do this! And now I WANT to!”

Dog training is NEVER a “quick fix.” It takes time and effort to see results, though many pet owners want them to appear as if by magic. This is not reality, and it’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about fun, effective methods that are doable, start to work right away, and that inspire confidence in owners to keep at the business of training so that they can have the dog they deserve.

Because results matter. Show me.

I'm Not Dead or Sick, and I Have Good News

2010-09-09T20:55:00.006-04:00

I'm just resting...from blogging. See, I have a hard time just tossing off posts. Writing comes easily to me for the most part, but I do have to tinker and get things just right, and that ends up taking a while. So when I post a blog entry, it has taken me a few hours to write it usually (I also edit as I go).

Since this blog is really for my own amusement, I have let it go a few weeks (oops, a month) without a post. I do have more to say, and will get back to it soon.

So, to my 11 followers, I appreciate your support during this drought.

I did receive some good news 2 weeks ago. After having the training classes rug pulled out from under me last year at the shelter where I work, my bosses have decided that there's money to be had in classes (who knew?), and they want me to ramp them back up.

So I will be teaching group classes again, which I truly enjoy doing. I will not be making any more money, unfortunately, but I also won't be working any more hours than I have been, so I can accept the fiscal disappointment (and there are other perks in my job that, at least for now, outweigh the negative of keeping the same pay for more work. One of those bennies is, well, having a steady paycheck and health insurance in a shitty economy. That's not even the best benefit).

The important thing is that Atlanta dog owners will have a decent source for low-cost group training, and I will have a dedicated place to do it, the autonomy to do it the way I want to, and higher-ups wanting it to succeed. The good far outweighs the bad here, and though I do have limits and know them, I am not at them yet.

I love teaching Basic classes to pet owners. I know some trainers hate it, or dislike it, but I love the challenge of trying to play to everyone's learning styles and show them that they can get results with their own dogs with what I consider a minor bit of effort. Once they "get" that, they usually put more effort in just to see how exponentially better their dogs get. It's a win-win. And there are more perks in group class, especially for the dogs.

I'm sure I'll expound more on this in the future.

Cogitate on it

2010-08-08T09:45:00.003-04:00

How do you gestate?

There are many ways to do it. And there are many reasons to do it.

Eric Booth, in his book The Everyday Work of Art, defines gestation as a pause to "reflect, step back from action, to allow intuition and other wordless inner processes to perform their roles" and considers it a necessary part of decision-making and what he calls "world-making." It occurs mostly under the threshold of our attention, in our subconscious.

In dog training, we would put the dog in his crate after a working session to help him calm down and "ponder" what he'd learned. It seems odd that a dog would think about what just occurred, but many trainers find that this does seem to make a difference. It also serves to make training more interesting, as the dog sees it as a chance to be out of the crate and be with his humans.

In contrast, working the dog and then letting him play all the rest of the afternoon with his doggy pals won't allow him time to gestate his new knowledge. Plus, playing with other dogs often supersedes "boring" time with humans doing exercises, so a "green" dog who has not developed a full relationship with his owner or handler will prefer the playtime to the person, thereby making said person a little less relevant.

I have had prospective clients tell me that they take their dog to daycare 3, 4, or even 5 days per week. Usually, this is a daycare that does not meet my standards, and the dogs play all day long. The dog's owners tell me that the dog doesn't seem to give two squirts about them when he's home, and he doesn't listen.

Well, who can blame him? His owners are so far removed from his life that they have become irrelevant. The same thing can happen sans doggy daycare, with owners who won't confine their dogs, ever, and allow them to do whatever they want to do save for the few minutes a day they ask the dog to sit or lie down for some reason.

Having a dog should not be about simply perfunctorily going through the motions to satisfy his needs for food, shelter, and exercise. It should be about developing a relationship, and a bond. Owners who pass off Rover to daycare too often find that being less relevant is not very much fun. (And yes, there is a case to be made for a correlation to nannies raising the children of the rich, but I decided not to go there.)

Gestation doesn't only help dogs to learn. It helps us.

Regardless of what the situation is, I can almost always see the problem much better after I have put it away and ignored it (and I mean ignored it completely) for a while. Sometimes, gestation results in a "Eureka!" moment, and I realize I've just discovered some new way to look at it, which is great fun--even if that doesn't solve the problem.

Sometimes, sleeping on it is the answer. I have also meditated on it, taken a walk on it, written on it, read on it, lain on my back and looked at the sky on it, climbed a tree on it, watched a movie on it, gone to dinner with friends on it, or listened to a favorite orchestral piece of music on it (I think the fact that a symphony or a movie score comes full circle and resolves itself has a lot to do with that working). Every now and again, a bourbon on the rocks will do it, but I drink pretty infrequently, so that's not something I go to right off.

Booth says, "Dreams (of the day or night variety) do not travel the way the crow flies; they zigzag like a butterfly. These tools of gestation go to deep places our intuition would like to tap, to worlds we know, unbeknownst to ourselves."

What about you? When you are faced with a thorny conundrum, how do you gestate? And how long does it take? Is it different depending on the issue? Do you find that skipping gestation results in a degraded solution? Has it ever not worked?

What are you laughing at?

2010-08-03T21:10:00.007-04:00

If you had told me 10 years ago I'd own Chihuahuas, I'd have laughed at you. I now own 3, plus 2 other small mutts. All are shelter adoptees.

"Real" dog trainers don't own "frou-frou" dogs. "Real" dog trainers own Belgian Malinois, German Shepherds, Dobermans, field-bred Labs, Australian shepherds, and Border collies. And if they own toy dogs, those are not their "main" dogs, those are ones they picked up along the way (because dog trainers tend to collect dogs like kids collect rubber bracelets).

I have nothing against the above breeds, but I am a real dog trainer, and I have small dogs. And I am hooked.

For one, my dogs are incredibly portable. I can fit all five easily in crates in my van, with room to spare. Many of my trainer friends have to car shop with specific prerequisites in mind for how crates will fit.

Small dogs are cheaper to own. Food and preventative medicine is cheaper. Dog beds, collars, leashes, and training aids are cheaper. Cheaper is good. Because when you have multiple dogs, things get expensive. And I am a cheapskate.

Smaller portions of food=smaller poops. I can take one newspaper bag on a walk with all 5 dogs and not fill it up.

Small dogs (with some notable exceptions like terriers) need less exercise. This is especially nice because I am lazy during my leisure time. Sure, I like to hike and do stuff, but I also like to do things without my dogs (which is another black mark on my dog trainer resume). And they are OK with that--they'll just nap.

Small dogs take up less space. My partner and I share a queen size bed with 4 of our dogs (the 5th is weird and prefers to sleep under the bed unless Jupiter is in retrograde on a Thursday night). They all sleep under the covers, and we still have room. Try that with 5 Malinois.

The "less space" thing is also handy around the house. It allows us to have more furniture. I never trip over sleeping dogs in the middle of the living room.

Part of the reason I don't is because small dogs get out of your way when they notice you are coming. Larger dogs that have been trained do, also, but it often takes them longer to get going, especially as they age. One of my cardinal rules when it comes to training is "never step over your dog; gently but firmly make him move." I never have to make my dogs move--they are on high alert to Get The Hell Out of the Way or get stepped on by clumsy humans.

Small dogs can get in your lap, and cuddle with you, without cutting off your air or causing your legs to fall asleep. And several of them can be in your lap at once. Your 2 Boxers both want to be in your lap at once, but there ain't much room for that.

And don't let some macho dog trainer tell you he doesn't ever cuddle with his dog. He does. Besides, most pet dog trainers are women, and we need the oxytocin dump as much as our dogs do. We don't overdo it, because we know that there is such a thing as "too much of a good thing." Petting and cuddling are an important part of having dogs, but they should not be the only part, or even the biggest part.

My dogs don't slobber. They love to eat, but they do it very neatly (and on a schedule, of course). When they lick you, it's not sloppy. My dogs never have strings of drool hanging from their mouths.

Chihuahuas are smart, and catch on quickly. I used to think they were all nasty ankle-biters, but that was before I was a trainer. Who knew they just needed rules to follow, and proper socialization, just like "real dogs"? Now I do. And I spend a fair amount of time convincing non-trainer small-dog-owners of this, so that their dogs do not become nasty ankle-biters.

Some people laugh off the idea that small dogs are every "truly" aggressive. They giggle when Poopsie the tiny Shih-tzu challenges Thor, the passing 90-lb Lab mix, snarling and lunging on the leash. "Isn't that cute?! Look, Myrtle, at the tough little guy! Give 'em hell, little guy!"

This irks me. Small-dog owners are just as liable for their dogs' behavior as large-dog owners are. Just because Poopsie is small and cute does not excuse that rude behavior, and if Thor decides to stop showing restraint, Poopsie will be in a world of hurt, or dead, and any onlookers will be horrified at the carnage. And both dog owners will share the blame: Poopsie's, for not teaching her manners on a walk, and Thor's, for not properly restraining their dog.

But Thor's owners will probably be held accountable, while Poopsie's will not. As I am a small dog owner, you'd think this would make me happy, but I'm a dog professional, so it absolutely does not. All dogs need training, period. Dog owners who refuse to train, and who keep dogs that are aggressive to people and other animals--regardless of size--are irresponsible.

Training provides dogs--a social species--with a blueprint of how to fit into human society. Without this blueprint, dogs do not thrive. Seeing toy dogs stuffed into purses and strollers annoys me in several ways, but mostly because I know that those dogs are not able to truly be dogs.

My dogs sometimes roll in stinky stuff. They have great noses and they use them. They keep squirrels out of the yard with great pride. They know lots of basic commands, including "heel," and lots of tricks--most of which they will happily do with or without treats. They frolic in the grass, get dirty after it rains, chase and fetch, and in every other way act like dogs much bigger than they. As long as conditions are safe for them to be on the ground, they are.

Sure, there are drawbacks--besides the snickers. I have to watch out for birds of prey, people's clumsy feet, crowds, large dogs. The Chihuahuas cannot run or even walk as long as I might like to, because they get tired. Their limbs are more fragile, and they don't deal well with cold weather. They can get nervous if people shriek and run towards them or try to pick them up (why anyone would assume it's OK to pick up a dog without asking and hold it up to her face I'll never know). Most people don't try that stunt with German shepherds.

(In high school and college, I had a Doberman. She was a lovely dog with a wonderful temperament, despite the fact that she was not formally trained. When I'd walk her in public, people would yank their children up and over to the opposite side of the street as we approached, even though she walked nicely at heel and paid them no mind at all. Naturally, I was offended, because I knew she'd never hurt anyone, and I wasn't wise enough to know what I now now about cynophobia. At any rate, I solved the problem by outfitting her with a bright, colorful bandanna. The change in people's reactions was almost immediate: my "vicious" dog now garnered appreciative looks and compliments, and parents actually allowed their children to approach for petting.)

They may be small, but their hearts hold as much love as any big dog's, which is really the important part. They are bona fide canine companions, albeit in smaller, more efficient, longer-living, smaller pooping, no-slobber packages that make great bedtime heating pads on cold days.

Scoff if you wish, but maybe one day you will know the joys of a good lap dog.

A Letter to My Father

2010-07-26T01:00:00.005-04:00

Dear Dad,

I wanted to write you because it's been a long time since I had, and because you like getting letters, and because I like writing them. You've been on my mind lately, more than usual.

I'd like to start with a few simple "thank yous," if that's OK. These are in no particular order.

Thank you for pursuing Mom. In today's world it would be stalking, no doubt about it. But she admits she didn't mind it (except maybe when you followed her to Europe when she went on that trip with her cousin; she said that was a bit weird). And you were 16 years her senior, and, well, her boss.

Yeah, creepy. But it ultimately brought me into the world, and I'm enjoying myself here.

Thank you for buying a house where you did. It was a stroke of genius, which I know you didn't know then. But the location is perfect, and the neighborhood that was great to grow up in, where I rode my bike and played football and threw frisbees and lost myself in the woods behind the house for hours on end really just keeps getting better. I am so glad that my brothers didn't have interest in this place when it was going to be sold. I love it here, and I always have, and it is because of you. The tree in the front yard is beyond magnificent.

Thank you for agreeing to the divorce. I know that sounds weird to say, but it really was the best thing that could have happened. While you may have had happy times for a while, by the time I left 8th grade it was all shot to hell. We all knew it. I know it wasn't easy for you to admit defeat, and I'm sure it didn't make much sense to you at the time, or afterwards. Unknowingly, you gave up your own happiness for mine and Mom's. It's what a good father does.

Because you were much older than my friend's fathers, I didn't really connect with you until I was an adult. As a child I found you stodgy, but as I grew I matured, and I paid attention.

Thank you for imbuing me with your love of literature and music. I admit that I didn't like your Big Band sound, and I thought the tapes you made for your friends where you DJ'd were dumb at the time (though they loved them). I did grow weary of hearing Tommy Dorsey, Stan Kenton, Glenn Miller, and Anita O'Day (and I still don't enjoy that sound), but, and you might not know this, I was listening to you love it.

And in between the sounds I disliked were some serious gems. I remember being in my room studying and hearing, for the first time, the throaty awesomeness of Nina Simone. I didn't think much of it until I watched the Bridget Fonda/Gabriel Byrne remake of "Le Femme Nikita" called "Point of No Return." When the first Nina song came on, I started. I recognized it! It gave me chills.

And though I had become interested in classical music really for the first time my freshman year in college (thank you, Music Appreciation 101, J.B. Golden, and Paula Williams), I recall lying in the bathtub at home, long after that class, and hearing the strains of Ennio Morricone's spectacular score for "The Mission" coming out of the speakers in the living room, and thinking, "Wow." You were thrilled when I asked you about it, and thereafter you'd call me excitedly whenever you had other scores (or symphonies) you thought I'd like.

Thank you for not pushing me to major in something I hated just so I would be more employable; I'm convinced my English degree and Education M.Ed. have helped me way more than an MBA would have. I know you were just happy I was going to college, and later I know you were proud that I am the only one of your children to finish college at all.

Thank you for giving me a good economic sense. It has been a huge asset, and I am grateful. My brothers did not get it, and they have still not learned from their mistakes.

Speaking of that, thank you for allowing me to make mistakes, though I never made huge ones. I was conservative enough with money to make good decisions early on. I'm not rich by any monetary means, but I support myself just fine, thanks to your wisdom.

Thank you for letting us have dogs. They all taught me so much, and shaped my life immeasurably.

Your "hands-off" discipline style meant that Mom was the one wielding the switch when I needed it. Some of my friends told stories of the spankings their dads gave them, but I could say, "my dad has never laid a hand on me." I'm not angry at Mom, mind you--I am so thankful she helped me understand that behaviors had consequences, and I learned quickly. Just the thought of disappointing either of you meant that I didn't get spanked much.

Of course, the validity of spanking is now a hot topic, and I'm glad I have no children of my own causing me to have to deal with it. I was not abused. I was disciplined as necessary. There is a difference.

My childhood was a good one, Dad. It wasn't all sunshine and ponies, but it was sturdy and caring compared to the childhoods of some people I am friends with now. Knowing what I now know about how much one's childhood affects the rest of one's life, I am eternally thankful for both you and Mom. I am who I am today because of how I was raised.

Thank you for living your values, and for teaching them to me, and not hiding behind fundamentalist religion to do it. I know you couldn't afford to send me to Catholic school for 9 years, and now I know why you sacrificed and did it anyway: it wasn't because you honestly believed it was a superior education. It was because of your sister, and I can forgive you for that. You loved her in spite of her "crazy" immersion into belief.

I know now that you were agnostic, but "going with the flow" and raising your children in the church of your youth was expected of you. Trust me when I say that knowledge buoys me on a consistent basis. I wondered about it for years, until one day I got it. I had long left the church by then, but never really understood why you had believed it in the first place. You were too intellectual for it, Dad. (Yeah, I hate it when the obvious hits you right smack in the face.)

You worked hard at a job you grew to hate to provide for us. You retired, then started working again because you needed the money. You took care of the things that needed to be taken care of at the expense of doing things you wanted to do. You did the best you could, always.

None of this was lost on me. As I age, I see so much of you in me, where before I thought we had little in common. In your own quiet way, you loved me no matter what. That is the greatest gift a parent can give a child.

Thank you for the sacrifices you made, including the sacrifices to our country during the war, and the stories that came from them. Do you remember that interview I did of you for my Journalism class, the one where I told your story of bailing out of a plane and ending up in a POW camp (with a really wild twist of fate), and I didn't reveal until the end that you were my dad? I got an "A" on it, and I still have it.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of how you have affected my life and helped me along the way. (Mom did, too; she deserves a ton of credit that I will get to later.) You showed me it was good to love learning, and reading, and reciting poetry; the pleasures of a good hammock, a good fire, and a good mixed drink; the way a musical piece can lift you into another world. I had loved the beauty of Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana" as a symphonic/choral piece for years, and disliked ballet, but when you took me to the ballet performance, I was dumbstruck. I'll never forget it. I still do not care for ballet, but "Carmina" is one I will see again.

I'll never be able to properly thank you, Dad. There's more, but this is enough for now. It's been a philosophical day for me, as this day has been for 16 years now.

I have one more thing to tell you, Dad, besides the fact that the movie "Meet Joe Black" (and its beautiful score by Thomas Newman) makes me sob uncontrollably because Anthony Hopkins' character is not really like you but makes me think of you; besides the fact that I listen to the 2nd movement of Brahm's "Requiem" on this day every year and end up curled in a crying fetal position the rest of the day; besides the fact that Elton John's "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" makes me stop the car and weep no matter where I am. As I drove home from the hospital after you quietly left, your body spent and unable to continue, I was remembering the sound of your respirator ceasing, and my aunt, Mom, and brothers crying, and the nurse leaving us to our grief. And that song came on the radio.

I love you, and I miss you more than I ever, ever thought I would. I've got so many more movies and scores and songs and books to share with you.

My life is one of happiness and promise, Dad, in many ways because of you. And I have only one real regret: I'm not sure that I told you how much I loved you before you were gone on July 26th, 1994, at the age of 72. I was 28, and we hadn't been "close" for a while. Three days before you went into the hospital complaining of stomach pains, we all gathered at Lee's and had a Father's day cookout. You gave me my birthday present, which I recall was a pair of shorts and a shirt from Sears that I might have worn when I was 15. I know I thanked you for it, and I knew secretly I'd never wear it, but how could you have known? The thought absolutely counted.

I remember parts of that day in stark detail, and the rest none at all. It was hot, of course. You and Lee probably argued. At some point I'm sure I wanted to be doing anything else. But the thing I cannot remember, and believe me, I've tried: did I tell you "I love you" that day? Did I? If not, why not? I could kick myself for not knowing that.

I'm pretty sure I told you in the hospital before your body started shutting down slowly and you went into the coma. Yes, I'm sure I did. We all thought you'd be coming home; pancreatitis is rarely fatal, the doctors all said. But the days passed, and you didn't get better; you got worse. Surely, at some point before you were no longer lucid, I told you.

I'm trying to make up for it by living my best life, and I think you'd be proud of me, still. For weeks after you died, I dreamt of you, and in every single dream I spent so much time telling you how special you were to me, and how much I appreciated you. I woke up crying every morning for weeks after your funeral.

Though I do not believe in the concept of an afterlife, in those dreams, time had reverted back to when you were alive, and you heard me.

Despite my regret, what I did in those dreams has to be enough. I love you, Dad.

"It doesn't matter who my father was, it matters who I remember he was."
~Anne Sexton

Should I Get My Dog A Dog?

2010-07-19T15:45:00.008-04:00

There is a tongue-in-cheek suggestion often given to Women Who Do Too Much (you know, the ones ferrying the kids everywhere, planning meals, shopping, working, doing laundry, and multiple other tasks while trying not to stress out).

Their friends, co-workers, and even family will jokingly suggest, "You need to get yourself a wife."

For some reason, I thought of that joke as I was writing this. Let's look at this scenario (minus the ferrying, shopping, planning, doing laundry, etc.) from the perspective of the "average" dog owner.

Many people who only have one dog often feel guilty, and worry that they are depriving their pet by not having a playmate for him. I am often asked if they should get a second dog to keep their dog company, and my answer is “it depends.”

Dogs are indeed social animals, and most enjoy the company of other dogs in addition to humans. Their innate sociability is why they make such great companions for us, and why they are relatively easy to train. But are we depriving them if we only have one in our home?

Before you rush out to get Rover a pal, ask yourself the following questions, and consult a qualified trainer if you are not sure.

Is Rover 6 months or older? Raising one puppy is hard enough; don’t make it harder by adding another dog before Rover is housebroken and at least somewhat trained, and bonded with you. This is one reason out of many why most canine professionals agree that adopting 2 puppies together is a bad idea. And adding a “non-puppy” may not be much better; any age dog that is new to your home will still need training and time to settle in.

Is Rover obedience trained? If he isn’t, you will have a much harder time training 2 at once. And dogs learn from other dogs, but not usually good habits. So fix Rover first, for best results. Otherwise, you may end up with twice the trouble.

Are you getting Rover a pal because you don’t spend enough time with him? This is a common mistake people make, and what you end up with is two dogs you now do not have time for. Dogs may love each others’ company, but they typically love us more, and dogs don’t raise other dogs—people do. If sociable dogs had their pick between “another dog” and “more quality time with owner,” most would pick option 2. Seriously.

Does Rover really like other dogs? This sounds like a no-brainer, but you’d be surprised how many people have dogs who really have little interest in other dogs who rush out to get Fido a friend. Does Fido go to the dog park, or to daycare? If so, does he play well with others (as opposed to just tolerating them, or worse)? Maybe he likes certain kinds (and breeds or sizes) of dogs, but not others. Not every dog loves every other dog he meets. We don’t expect that of humans, so why do we expect it of dogs?

Being a social species does not mean that one likes every other member of the species; I'm sure you know this from, like, life (do YOU like everyone you meet? Humans are a social species...if you answered no, then why not?) You might be amazed at how many people are truly troubled that their dogs are simply nonchalant about playing with other dogs. They get very offended when they go somewhere with dogs and their dog prefers to hang out with the owners instead of running around with the other dogs. Of course, there are plenty of reasons why, but the bottom line is that those dogs, as long as they are not aggressive or overly stressed, are perfectly happy that way.

Are you really ready for a second dog? You know he won’t be as easy as Rover was, don’t you? The law of averages says that if your first dog (or child) was easy to raise and train, the second one will be just the opposite. Are you prepared to do the work? Whether you get a young puppy or an adolescent or an adult, all dogs need to learn the rules of your home when they come into it. Prepare for a lot of work, and be thankful if it isn’t as hard as you expected.

Adding a second dog also adds costs, from food to travel plans to how big of a car do you have, and do you have room for another crate?

Ultimately, getting a second dog is a personal decision that must not be made lightly. For most people, after training, having a second dog isn’t much harder than having one (though adding a third definitely ups the stakes). Being left alone is not as lonely for Fido, and watching 2 dogs who like each other interact can be very enjoyable. Plus, you are helping a dog that needs a home. So, the positives are definitely there.

The best short answer to the titular question is this: don’t get a dog for your dog. Get a second dog for yourself when you are ready (after it has met and gets along with your dog, of course), and chances are the dogs will also benefit from the arrangement.

If you are going to take the plunge, here are some suggestions.

Try to choose a dog of the opposite sex, and if your dog is 2 or older, go younger (it doesn’t have to be a baby, though). Know your dog's personality and try to get a dog that won't clash with it. Ultimately, though, get the dog you want to have--the one you are best suited to raise and train and live with for the next 10-15 years. Consult a trainer to accompany you to the shelter or breeders' place if you are not sure; there are no guarantees, but someone with a good eye for what "getting along" looks like can be immensely helpful in this process.

Take your time and make the right decision; there's no need to rush.

Establish rules and structure right away for the new dog ('cuz your existing dog already has them in place, right?) and be prepared to feed separately for best results. Of course, the new dog needs his own crate.

NOTE: just because your Fido and new Rover got along at the shelter, don't expect pure, unfettered harmony at home--at first. Space is a dog's primary language, and when a new dog comes into an existing dog's territory, there is bound to be a little friction (especially if your house or yard are small). Let them drag leashes at the first meetup, and later in the home until you are sure they understand what's expected of them. Tight leashes promote frustration and reactivity.

In the above photo, what do you see? A happy greeting? Notice the raised tails, the raised hackles on both dogs, and the way the brown dog is hovering above the black dog. Without a dog-savvy adult nearby, this could have turned ugly. The obvious positives of the above situation: outdoors, with plenty of room to move; the dogs are not squared off, but perpendicular; the dog with the most potential for problems is dragging a leash. Just after this was taken, I called the brown dog and he turned towards me, breaking the "stalemate." The black dog was relieved and trotted off. I had a close eye on the brown dog after that; there were other dogs in the yard, and he was wary of all of them, but he was never given a chance to posture that way again due to sharp human intervention. After he calmed down, he even played a bit.

Harmony between dogs in the home is always easier with good, clear leadership. There will be less squabbling if you have made it clear that you will not put up with fighting. If you are having a problem, keep them separated for safety, and consult a balanced trainer.

Initial training is easier with fewest distractions, so any training you do should be one dog at a time for now. Crate the other dog while you work, then switch them. As they get better, use the other dog as a controlled distraction.

"Old age means realizing you will never own all the dogs you wanted to." ~~Joe Gores

We have met the enemy, and He is Us

2010-06-19T09:05:00.001-04:00

The young dog was gaunt, but I knew he’d been fed on a regular basis. Now, in our care, he ate warily but readily, as long as the food was left for him and no one was looking. His eyes darted back and forth, watching everything. He shrank back in his kennel and occasionally we would hear a low growl emanating from him when we came too close. Crouching down and looking over his head was better, but he still wouldn’t readily approach. At one point, I went and sat in the 8X10 run at the far corner, a handful of chicken pieces in my bait bag and a book in the other hand. I would sit and read out loud, and toss chicken in his direction. For the first 15 minutes he ignored it. Growling came and went. I never looked directly at him.

He eventually stuck his slender neck out and snatched some of the pieces hurriedly, fearfully. After a few agonizing minutes he finished the rest, never taking his eyes off me. When I finished the chapter, I stood up very slowly and exited, not looking back. He watched me carefully, but didn’t move a muscle, as I walked away.

After 3 days of this there hadn’t been much change. I was able to loop a leash over his head, and he would walk with me, but it was not a normal walk. He alternated hanging back and forging ahead in an attempt to free himself from the leash. When the door to the outside opened, he bolted through it and stood, shaking, on the other side. I had him out for about 20 minutes, and he never eliminated. I was able to stroke his fur on his side (he started when I touched him, but didn’t move away, so I left my hand there), but I did not try to touch his head. I spoke calmly to him, and watched as he scanned the area hawkishly, his bushy tail tucked between his trembling rear legs. A loud truck went over a bump in the road, and the dog nearly leapt out of his skin.

He looked wolfish, but it was likely German shepherd and some other lanky breeds. Had he been at his correct weight, where ribs could be felt but not seen, he’d have been beautiful. He had what we like to call “human eyes”: dark brown with rimmed irises. His coat was in decent shape, he was neutered, and I knew he’d finished his last round of vaccinations about 6 months ago.

No, Shiloh wasn't some stray we'd picked up on the side of the road.

He was adopted from the shelter as an 8-week-old pup, by a happy couple who had owned dogs before. They were middle class, no kids (yet), and far from ignorant or unprepared--at least as far as shelter personnel knew. There was no reason to believe that this puppy would live anything but a pampered life with them.

But here he was, returned 8 months later, a victim of abuse. Oh, they never laid a hand on him except to pet him (and I know this because they were horrified the shelter staff might assume they had). He was housebroken, but he didn't have much else in the way of "formal training." You might think that's why I considered him abused--refusing to train a social species that hungers for information about how to fit into our world is, well, at the very least disrespectful to dogs--but that really wasn't even on my mind as I sat with him and remembered the wife crying in the Intake waiting room.

"I'm due in 3 months. And I love him--he's very loyal and attached to me--but he is so scared and spooky, and I just can't take any chances with the baby."

Pregnant couples giving up on perfectly good dogs is nothing new in sheltering. It happens a lot, and one can blame them up one side and down the other (I mean, you've known for a while you were gonna have a kid, right?), or even have some compassion towards their predicament, lame as it sometimes sounds, but at that point, it is moot. Cultural traditions, myths, advice from well-meaning people and the glut of information online, coupled with the emotions surrounding the fact that your lives are about to change forever, put seeds of doubt into would-be parents' minds, and often there is no going back.

I didn't fault this woman for the choice she had made. Pregnant couples giving up on perfectly good dogs may not be new, but Shiloh was far from "perfectly good." He was spooky, flighty, and on edge. I couldn't imagine him around a newborn, not to mention all the preparations, and the arrival home from the hospital, and change in schedule, and family in and out after the blessed event. He barely had enough confidence to eat enough to keep his ribs from showing when it was calm and quiet at their home with no visitors or stressful events. A baby in the home would be an accident waiting to happen. I'm childfree by choice, but I know enough to know that nervous, frightened dogs don't mix well with kids, and parents don't usually have a lot of confidence in them--which perpetuates the cycle.

So if they never laid a hand on him or made him go without, how dare I claim "abuse"?

I'll tell you why: he was scared of everything, and not just at first. Shiloh was distrustful even after a period of time had passed with nothing bad happening to him. He couldn't "bounce back" from his fears easily. And while fear has an evolutionary advantage in mammals, an overabundance of fear is not better. It's far worse.

But how is his fear their fault?

Well, the genetics part isn't, at all--they didn't breed him. And though they never laid a mean hand on Shiloh, never yelled or screamed at him, never left him in the cold without food or shelter, never ignored him when they were home with him, and never neglected his veterinary care, they abused him, passively, just the same.

Because Shiloh was never socialized. By their own admission, they kept him inside with them all the time, and during the crucial socialization period that all puppies go through between 3 weeks and 16 weeks of age, when they should be learning positive things about the world, Shiloh was kept from life. They were worried he might catch a disease, so they avoided exposing him to the world. Unknowingly, they took away his ability to develop the capacity to deal with the world outside. Shiloh never went for walks, or on short trips to safe places that wouldn't overwhelm him. He hid in the bedroom when guests came, and he had never seen a child up close. He didn't get to play with other dogs; he didn't attend training classes; he didn't really get to be a dog.

Socialization is inoculation against later fearfulness, and his owners, while meaning well, denied him this vaccination.

And in doing so, they made sure Shiloh would never be normal. Some of his fear was likely hereditary, given his potential breed mix. It was a double whammy, nature and nurture in a negative capacity, and he never saw it coming.

Dogs are social creatures who develop bonds early in life to their own kind and, thanks to years of selective breeding, to humans. It's part of their genetic code to seek a social group, and to seek a place within the hierarchy of that group.

Deny a human child the company of other humans during our formative years (namely, birth to puberty), and the Critical Period Hypothesis says you will get a child that will have lasting damage, including an inability to master language--a result that is not fatal to the child, but certainly increases stress and makes life way more difficult. Puppies go through critical periods of development as well. John Fuller and John Paul Scott, in their landmark study chronicled in Genetics and the Social Behavior of the Dog (1965), said,

Every highly social species of animal which has been studied so far has a short period early in life when primary social relationships are formed…in the case of the puppy, it looks as if a small amount of contact shortly after 3 weeks of age will produce a strong social relationship which can be duplicated only by hours or weeks of patient effort at later periods in life—if, indeed, it can be duplicated at all.

While Fuller and Scott’s study doesn’t say when the “socialization window” closes, other experts agree that it appears to be around 16 weeks of age. Again, it’s a window, so it never completely shuts. But we do know that if puppies are not handled at all by humans before 16 weeks, they will always live in a feral or semi-feral state.

Most puppies get at least some handling between birth and 16 weeks, whether it be purposeful or not. Shiloh certainly had some. But it appears that he—and many others like him, sadly—didn’t get enough. And that’s something puppy breeders, buyers and adopters can change.

Granted, when we compare the undersocialization of human children to the undersocialization of dogs, the latter seems pretty trite. But dogs are everywhere in our society, by our choice, so undersocialization cannot be brushed aside as inconsequential, since it definitely impairs their ability to adapt to our confusing, loud, emotionally-affecting world. And fearful dogs may not want to bite as their first defense, but when cornered, many will.

Refusing to train a dog to understand the rules of our world is refusing to acknowledge the dog's real needs, does nothing to help dogs, and often harms them. It's especially heartbreaking when you know training isn't difficult, time-consuming, or expensive, it need not be harsh at all (it's actually a lot of fun if done correctly).

But forget obedience training for the moment. Not exposing a puppy to what life will hold for him later, even just the basics of people with different skin tones, outfits and different voice tones; loud noises; cars; children; bicycles; and various and sundry things we take for granted every day is abuse. It's setting up for failure a creature that craves anything but social isolation. It seems inocuous, but it isn't. It seems better for the pup to isolate him from possible disease, but it isn't.

The problem with neglecting to socialize a puppy that is hard-wired for it is that once the crucial window closes, experts agree that it is partly closed for good. Yes, it is more than possible to socialize dogs past 16 weeks (it's a window, not a steel door); people do it all the time. But you can't get back all of what you lost. You can help the dog, but something will always be missing: an important piece of the puzzle that is best acquired while the dog's brain is still forming.

My friend Sarah Wilson is an author, teacher, damn good trainer, student of the human-animal bond, and a wise woman. She does her best work with what she calls "deficit dogs": dogs with decent genetics who had a bad start in life, but with the proper training and an owner who looks to the future instead of dwelling on the past, will make progress. Most make incredible progress under her tutelage, and so do the bipeds holding their leashes. (An article from Sarah with ways to help deficit dogs.)

When it's done right, it can be remarkable. The dog may make infintesimal strides forward for so long you think nothing is happening, and then, Bingo! You see a huge success. If you don't push it, more success will follow.

But it's not an easy, or quick road. Socializing and training deficit dogs is a slow process that happens in small fits and starts, and one setback (e.g. thinking the dog is ready for The Big Leagues before he has even started batting practice) like thrusting him into an unwinnable situation, can reverse all the good progress already made. It's maddening for owners and trainers, and sad for the dogs.

Many of these dogs reach a plateau after a while. They hit the ceiling of As Good As It Gets, and they may never get past it. Owners of these dogs must be prepared for that, and all along they've had to be realistic about Fluffy, realizing she'll never be the outgoing Life of the Party they wanted. But that doesn't mean the dogs don't deserve someone who will try. And many people do--because you don't train the dog you wanted to have, you train the dog that you actually have, the one sitting right in front of you, for better or worse.

Shiloh is not a true deficit dog, by my estimation (though time will tell), because he likely has hereditary fear, and no amount of training will overcome genetics. He'll probably always be a bit flighty and nervous, and never really comfortable around men or small children.

When people see his behavior, most immediately assume the abuse he suffered came in the form of a child teasing him, or a man beating him. But in truth, it's because he was never exposed to children, and the only man he knew was the husband, who is short and very soft-spoken. Though there is no way to know, my experience is that what the public wants to see as conditions arising from physical abuse (cringing, submissive urination or defecation, ducking when an arm or object is raised, avoiding eye contact, bolting for safety, or even snapping when cornered) are more often symptoms of a lack of socialization. If your dog hits the dirt every time you pick up a broom, your first instinct is to assume that someone hit him with a broom. While that is certainly possible in dog you have not lived with his whole life, what is more likely is that a broom fell when he ran into it while exploring during his "fear period,"(maybe more than once), or an adult picked up a broom and gently shooed him with it while yelling, and now he thinks brooms are agents of Lucifer. Things learned during the fear periods have lasting consequences, and even if they are not harsh, they can be perceived or "remembered" by the dog that way.

NOTE: I'm not saying that the "guilt" behaviors mentioned above never have roots in actual abuse. It's positively horrific what humans are capable of doing to animals, and shelters in more rural or depressed urban areas see the effects of abuse far too often. But we do know that a lack of socialization also causes timidity to people and objects, and when we know this, we are less likely to spout The Abuse Excuse. When we let that go, we can move forward with the dog.

So what is good socialization? Experts don't always agree on how much puppies need, but most of us agree that many puppies don't get enough. Good breeders (you know, the ones who do health checks and genetic testing to weed out congenital defects, screen buyers carefully, breed for temperament, work with rescues to take dogs back, breed 1 or maybe 2 litters a year, specialize in one or maybe 2 breeds, don't disappear after the sale, don't try to pawn off multiple pups on unsuspecting buyers, and understand genetics and their breed thoroughly) raise pups in the home and generally follow the Rule of Sevens. (Some say that's a good guideline, but may not be enough.) They don't allow pups to leave the litter before 7 weeks at the earliest, and if they keep the pups longer (some up to 12 weeks) they start crate training, housebreaking, and do even more socialization. Good breeders also encourage the new owners to continue the socialization from the day after purchase through 16 weeks and beyond, with suggestions like well-run puppy training classes, and lots of safe visiting in the community.

Dogs born in puppymills generally have little or no socialization because those producers have no interest in the final product, only the money they receive from the transaction. In spite of that, to dogs' credit, some puppymill dogs manage to turn out OK, though that in no way implies that I support anyone going that route for a pup. But if you adopt a purebred or a designer mutt from a shelter, you may be getting a puppymill dog that an unsuspecting pet store shopper could not handle--so be prepared.

It has long been common knowledge to trainers that a lack of early socialization causes problems down the road. A lack of training will cause problems, too, but the "training window" never truly closes, as dogs (like people) are always learning. Many people have adopted adolescent and adult untrained dogs from shelters and turned them into fantastically-trained, outgoing, happy dogs. It takes longer than with a new puppy, but it's more than possible.

Trying to make up for a lack of early socialization, however, is like trying to push string. It takes a lot of patience and time just to get the dog to a place where obedience training can begin. Unfortunately, this is more of a project than the "average adopter" signs up for, and though deficit dogs tend to be very attached to their owners, excessive neediness is not healthy for man or beast.

It is far preferable to set the puppy up for success, so no matter what obstacles he meets later in life, from the stresses of a new baby at home to having to be rehomed, he can acclimate to them. Well-socialized dogs are easier to train and live with, and live less stressful lives.

Shiloh was adopted eventually, by a young man who'd owned GSD before. He and I talked for a long time about the road ahead, and I really think he understood (though it is likely to be longer than he thought). We discussed how to make up for lost time, and how to go slowly, and we discussed the plans he had to make Shiloh's new life better through training and socialization. I told him that Shiloh didn't need his pity--he needed the young man's strength. I told him that his own confidence, plus guidance and structure (i.e., training), would give Shiloh confidence. I told him not to expect miracles, but to shoot for small successes every day. I told him that he couldn't change the past, but he could affect the future--and for Shiloh, a world with less stress and more chances to "be a dog" would be heaven.

Every dog deserves that.

"Uttering joyous leaves of dark green"

2010-06-14T02:15:00.006-04:00

All my life I've been fascinated by trees. I grew up in what the U.S.D.A. Forest Service calls the Blue Ridge area of the Central Hardwood region. There are a number of pine trees (considered softwoods) in my yard and in my neighborhood, but luckily, there are quite a few hardwoods, too. Oaks are my favorite, especially Quercus rubra (Northern red oak) and Quercus alba (White oak). In one of my first blog posts, I wrote about my favorite trees, and I alluded to climbing them.

My love for trees began early, when I'd spend every nice day outdoors, and often alone, in the woods behind my house. There was quite a bit of undeveloped land in the neighborhood, and I'd explore it happily and safely as often as possible. My friends and I built forts from discarded branches and created walking trails in an area probably only a few acres in size, but it felt gigantic (and private) to us. Neighbors didn't mind us tramping through their "way back" backyards (they certainly never went back there), and if they did, they didn't say.

"In the woods" was where I started looking up. The trees were magnificent and plentiful, and my friends and I climbed as many as we could, but most in our woods were older and too tall for us to reach the branches. I often wondered what it would be like to perch myself high up in those branches, but I knew I couldn't fly and the idea that it was possible to get there was too wild to fathom. So I surveyed reverently from the ground, and in the meantime passed several phases of childhood in that shady landscape.

"In the woods" was where I also had my first kiss (and several subsequent ones, but don't judge me--this was when "making out" was kissing and not much more), my first look at porn (1970's Playboys stashed under what someone must have thought was a hidden rock), typical pre-teen angst and mood swings ("I hate you and I'm running away!"), and many adventures jumping creeks, catching tadpoles and crawfish, and just hanging. I played softball and of course had school, but I never had playdates or structured activities that I can recall. You had to listen for the cowbell to know when Mom was calling you for dinner, and we were discouraged from being in the woods after dark, so our post-prandial play moved to the front yards and the nearly empty neighborhood streets until bedtime.

But the woods were the best. I used to fantasize that my folks would buy me a horse and I would build him a stable in the woods just behind the house ('cause, hey, I could built a rudimentary fort, so surely he could live in something like that, and he'd eat...leaves and sticks?), and I'd ride him through the trees along our trails.

When I wasn't trawling the woods, I spent time in our own semi-wild backyard inside the fence. Grass never would grow in our yard, much to my father's consternation, because of the trees. That didn't bother me one bit, and I think he secretly was glad, because he had no intention of cutting them down--and he hated to mow. I climbed the one tree I could reach from the ground, a Southern Magnolia, to my heart's content and found great solace in being in the branches. It was my own special place, and I distinctly remember bolting up it through tears on the day I learned of my grandfather's death in 1977. (One of the first scenes in "Fried Green Tomatoes" always reminds me of that day.) The trees I love most and I grew up together, though they had a long head start.

I still live in that house (yes, I moved away for a while, attended college and lived in a few other places--the usual "spreading the wings"), having bought it from my father's estate some 15 years ago. It holds much sentimental value for me, and the trees are a huge part of that. Though I always thought them huge, they are much taller now. And I still cannot fly, but yes, I have been in those topmost branches.

In 2004, I decided that wings were not necessary to get up into trees, and I sought out treeclimbing. I found Tree Climbers International, and wouldn't you know it, it wasn't 10 minutes from my house. Founded by an arborist named Peter "Treeman" Jenkins, TCI taught recreational tree climbing, and just happened to have a "free climb" once per month. That's where they would set the ropes, help you into your harness and give you a little tutorial, and you'd be up in the branches as quick as you please.

Well, if you were 10 and skinny, that is. My overweight, almost-40 self didn't do much quickly those days, so the first climb was a bit of a disappointment. I think I got about 15 feet off the ground. But I was hooked, and I was determined to make it to a branch at some point--first at the TCI grove, and then in my own yard.

Luckily for me, TCI offered courses to teach you how to tie the ropes and get yourself up into the canopy. The techniques they use are not harmful to the tree (no spikes), and you can go as high as a few feet below the branch where your line is set. I signed up, and after a pretty grueling 2-day intensive, I was armed with knowledge (and sore muscles--but I passed the course). I purchased my climbing equipment (standard arborists equipment with some slight variations) and set out to set static lines in the trees in my yard.

People often ask, when I tell them I climb, "oh, is it like rock climbing?" When I say no, they seem disappointed. Treeclimbing with ropes is not as strenuous as rock climbing, though it can be a decent workout. And the ropes get you both up and down, not just down. It's also a "self-belay" system; you don't need another person on belay, so it can be a solitary activity. We use the same carabiners as rock climbers and cavers, but the chalk, special clothes, and special shoes (some tree climbers do it barefooted) are unneccessary.

Tree climbers use arborists' rope, which is different from rock-climbing rope, because it has less "give." You can't leave it in the tree all the time, because it will rot. So if you want to climb repeatedly, you set a static line in the tree in the setting you want, using a thin nylon cord that is impervious to the elements, and you haul your climbing rope up using that line. (I actually use plastic-covered clothesline; it's cheaper than zip line). Otherwise, you have to throw the line (using an arborists' throw bag) every time, and it's a skill I am only slightly good at. I set 4 lines, two each in two trees, the white oak Zemyna in my front yard, and the red oak Hannah in the back.

So when I want to climb, it only takes a few moments to get my 1/2" rope into the tree and tie my climbing knots. Then I saddle up in my recreational saddle (the "Tengu" model at right), put on my helmet, hook on a water bottle, camera bag, notebook and gloves, and I go "on rope." I use locking carabiners to secure myself to the rope. One of the cardinal rules of tree climbing is that you never unhook from your rope while in the tree. If you obey that rule and tie your knots correctly, it's incredibly safe.

The climbing technique I use is called DRT (double rope technique), and it uses a very ingenious knot called a modified Blake's hitch (the topmost knot in the photo at right) to allow the climber to ascend and descend easily. You pull yourself up using your own body weight (upper-body strength is necessary, but you mostly use your legs and your weight). I use a Prussik loop on the rope with my feet in it to literally pull the opposite end of the rope downward, which sends me upward. The Blake's hitch is scooted up by hand, and holds me in position. Eventually, I reach my destination branch, and after hanging out there a while, I decide if I want to switch branches and ascend higher, or descend.

Descent is simple and fun. You just grab the Blake's hitch and apply pressure on the top of it, and gravity will do the rest. A safety knot in the rope keeps me from plummeting too quickly, and if I get to going to fast, I just let go--and the knot holds. It's pretty clever.

(A single rope technique, or SRT, exists too, but it is mostly used by more experienced climbers and for really, really tall--300 feet and up--trees like redwoods. SRT requires some different equipment and skills, and I never learned how to do it. DRT works fine for my trees, which are 80-100 feet tall.)

It usually takes me about an hour from the time I decide to climb to when I'm on my destination branch. I usually go to a branch about 45-50 feet off the ground when I climb Hannah. Zemyna has more copious branches and a tighter canopy; when I climb her, you have to look hard for me in the summertime. (Can you see me?)

And what happens when I get there? Nothing. Blissful, quiet, cool...nothing. Being in the tree is indescribable, especially in the fall when the breezes are spectacular and the sky is so blue it almost makes you cry to look at it. You hear leaves rustling and the sound of your own breathing, birds chirping, and the creak of the branches. You can see your neighbors mowing their lawns or strolling by, and they can't see you (because they don't look). I admit that I like to call my dog and see how she'll react; she's not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, so she usually looks for me for quite a while before forgetting I exist (until I come down, and she has this relieved and puzzled expression I take to mean, "I thought I heard you calling me!").

Dusk is lovely, and climbing at night is even more thrilling. I haven't yet slept in the tree, though several companies make hammock-type apparati for doing just that. I'd like to put a semi-permanent pallet in Hannah, if I can figure out a way to do it without harming her.

I have a Sky Chair that I will haul up and clip into a setting placed just for it. It's a great place to read or write or just think, which I do a lot of.

"Murmuring out of its myriad leaves,
Down from its lofty top rising two hundred feet high,
Out of its stalwart trunk and limbs, out of its foot-thick bark,
That chant of the seasons and time, chant not of the past only,
but the future."

~Walt Whitman, from Song of the Redwood Tree

I think I'm going to be Sick

2010-05-26T20:46:00.006-04:00

Sorry for the cop-out, but I had to cross-post this.

This bit of WTF from Raised by Wolves has just about ruined my day.

It's bad enough that the cruelty is perpetuated, but the outrage is over what happened next.

Nothing.

The pictures are graphic. There are only three, but that's all that is needed. Be forewarned. The second and third ones are heartbreaking.

I have had more than one person who bought a dog from a pet store tell me s/he was told it came from "a reputable breeder." Well, if in their world "reputable" means vile, shameless, heartless and only in it for the money.

Since I tend toward the positive, especially when it comes to doggy stuff, you may ask why I posted this.

It wasn't to upset anyone. It's not gratuitous. It's to educate.

"Don't Blame the Dog!"

2010-05-13T22:20:00.002-04:00

A while back, I wrote a post about shelters and rescue groups not wanting to see the forest for the trees, and therefore were unwilling to properly screen dogs up for adoption, euthanize aggressive dogs, or admit that what they were doing was unethical, and bad for dogs.

I've been in a back-and-forth on an email list about this very subject the last few days, and it made me think of some more things to add to my diatribe.

Why are we not allowed to blame the dog, again? When dogs bite, and especially when they bite aggressively, with purpose to maim or worse, it is ALWAYS because the owners "did something wrong"?

They didn't socialize the dog when he was a puppy. They didn't train him. They overtrained him. They trained him too harshly. They trained him too wimpily. They used the wrong type of treat/training collar/leash/attitude. They fed him food with too much protein. They fed him from a stainless steel bowl, when they should have used plastic. They fed him from a plastic bowl. They fed him too much/too little/too often/not often enough. He was hungry. He was itchy. His feet hurt.

They crated him too much. They didn't crate enough. They let their kids tease him. They didn't let their kids interact with him enough to make him understand the kids were "in charge." They should never have gotten a dog because they had kids. Didn't they know Fido doesn't like kids?

The people worked too much, and were gone all the time. They didn't work enough, and were home all the time. They petted the dog too much. They didn't pet him enough. They paid too much attention to him. They didn't pay any attention to him. They tied him up. They didn't tie him up.

They named him a silly name. They didn't take him to the vet. They neutered him too early/too late/not at all. He wasn't vaccinated. He was over-vaccinated. They fed him Ol' Roy. They fed him top-of-the-line food, but it was crap because it wasn't raw food. They fed him raw food when he should have been eating kibble.

They dared to walk into the kitchen one day, nowhere near the dog's food bowl or toys, or the actual dog, and the dog launched himself across the floor and leapt up and went for the face of the teenage girl, and latched on, shaking back and forth, knocking her backward, and would not release despite her father beating him with a chair. He would not release until the hold on his collar made it hard for him to breathe, and he opened his mouth to get more air, and he was propelled backward. After the father shoved him across the kitchen and bent over his daughter--who had never done anything to the dog but interact normally with him--to try to stop the bleeding from the gash, the dog came back for more and the father had to cover his bleeding daughter's body and take several slashing bites to the back and arms before someone mercifully leashed the dog and threw him in his crate.

I KNEW I had left out something from the previous list of wrongs committed by this stupid, clueless, never-should-have-owned a dog family: walking into the kitchen!!

People are so dumb, right? How dare that girl walk into her own kitchen. She should have known better.

My brilliant, inspiring, and astute friend Sarah Wilson is, among other things, an author, trainer, teacher, lecturer, student of the human/animal bond, and wise sage when it comes to dogs and people. Her definition for serious aggression is the most succinct way I've ever come across to express it.

"When normal life events cause offensive aggression with little or no warning, that dog is not a pet." ~Sarah Wilson

So, when a dog bites without warning over normal life events, whose fault is it?

It's not an easy question to answer, but I will not lay blame at the feet of the teenage girl walking into the kitchen.

Perhaps the family was inconsistent with this dog, and he was truly confused as to who was the leader in the home. Perhaps he absolutely believed he was ruler, and she had no right to cross "his" property without permission. Perhaps any number of things from the above laundry list of "sins" dog trainers often bemoan were happening in the house.

Maybe he had a brain tumor, or some other medical issue that contributed to his vicious, unprovoked attack. If they had just taken him to the vet and had a full blood workup done, the vet might have found something. Neurological disease? Cancer? Thyroid imbalance? These can all contribute to aggression.

And perhaps, just perhaps, the dog was genetically wired wrong. Maybe it's the breeder's fault? Mother Nature? Zeus? Charles Darwin?

Does the picture above make you think, "Awww! How sweet!" or does it make you cringe?

A popular book amongst a subset of dog trainers (those who call themselves "positive" or "all positive") is Karen Pryor's Don't Shoot the Dog! Originally published in 1984 (I believe), it is a slim volume from a dolphin trainer-turned-dog-trainer that points out some of the misconceptions about dogs and behavior. It was the first book I remember reading that specifically exhorted dog owners to blame themselves for their dog's issues, not the dog. Other authors have done this, too--and for good reason. Most of our dogs' behavioral "problems" are indeed our fault. We are lousy communicators with species other than our own (and not even so great with our own, right?)

We get frustrated and angry at our dogs over things we should have trained them not to do. Dogs do not have morals or ethics, they simply have behaviors. Some of those are acceptable to us, and some are not. Training is about instilling the behaviors we want and teaching the dog to abstain from the behaviors we do not like. Since many of these "bad" behaviors are normal for dogs, it can be challenging sometimes.

Certainly, we cannot expect the dog to learn our language--we must learn his, and speak it to him.

When we fail to do this, problems can result, aggression among them.

So we must hang our heads in shame as a species for our arrogance at thinking the dog "knew better." After we flog ourselves, we need to get on with the business of being better communicators with our dogs. Modern dog training is about building relationships based on trust, and it allows humans and dogs to coexist quite peacefully the vast majority of the time.

But training cannot override everything. It cannot trump DNA or disease. When it squares off with genetics or medical issues, training by itself often does not come out victorious.

That is why blaming the dog is sometimes necessary, and when serious aggression is on the table, the dog must often pay with his life.

I know what it feels like to love a dog or two. And I know what it feels like to grow attached to dogs one does not own. I have been in the animal sheltering world for more than 10 years now, and working with animals for almost 30 years. I've loved and been attached to many dogs in my life.

I know what it is like to have to euthanize a dog I love who is no longer safe. The pain and heartache is overwhelming. Euthanasia of a beloved animal is never easy, but when the animal is in obvious pain, or simply no longer has a quality of life, at least we can clearly see the need to humanely end that life (and so can everyone else).

Euthanasia of aggressive animals is less clear-cut, so much so that I've had clients tell me their own trusted vet would not do perform the procedure on their dog after its aggression had reached unsafe levels. To the vet, the dog looked healthy. But the vet didn't have to live with what the dog had become. He or she did not have to walk around on eggshells in his or her own home because the family pet could "go off" at any given moment. Vets, like doctors, are taught to do everything possible to save lives, not destroy them.

Is the pain of euthanasia worse when one is made to feel guilty for it?

How do you think it feels to the family of the dog who attacked the teenage girl to be told by their vet that euthanasia is not appropriate for this dog, that they must have done something to provoke the dog, and that putting this dog down would not be fair to the dog? Perhaps the maimed young woman should be the one to, oh, I don't know, maybe take the "healthy" dog to an obedience class after she heals and get him the training he never got. Her scar(let letter)s could be an abject lesson for all to see: see what a lack of training gets you?

Until one has lived with a truly aggressive dog, has lived with the fear that the dog might hurt a family member or a friend or a stranger, or might escape the yard and maul a child, it is hard to imagine what it feels like. It's something that keeps decent people awake at night.

And from the often-grim insides of a rescue or shelter, teeming with unwanted animals that have, through no fault of their own, been cast off, treated poorly, abused, or simply neglected, the thought that the dog deserves another chance is not as uncommon as you would think.

After all, it's not his fault, right?

When it comes down to it, a homeless dog with a known bite history is a huge liability for anyone with which it has contact. Good shelters and rescue groups know this, and will not put up for adoption animals with known bite histories.

(NOTE: ANY dog with a bite history is a liability. But my main beef is with groups housing and adopting out homeless aggressive dogs, NOT owners who have such a dog and are trying to manage the situation while keeping the dog. That is still an issue, one based on personal choice that should never be taken lightly, but there is a difference.)

Fault is not the issue here--knowledge is. And knowledge can be a painful thing.

Good shelters understand that people deserve better than a pat, facile, "It's not his fault."

Some shelters and rescues who ignore this dictum and believe all dogs are salvageable claim to give "full disclosure" to adopters about the dog's history. They say that "some people want to adopt these damaged dogs, so we should let them." They think that disclosure will shield them from a lawsuit, but it won't.

And it wouldn't matter if it did. If the known biter bites again, more lives will be changed forever. The damage will be done.

Is it POSSIBLE to adopt out known biters and have them managed safely so that they never bite again? I suppose it could be. Is it ethical? I do not believe so. Is it kind? No. Are most adopters equipped to deal with this sort of dog for the rest of its life? No. Should they have to? No.

Some of these "rescuers" decide that Fierce Fido isn't safe for the average Joe, but he would be fine for a dog trainer to adopt and work with. How many of us do you think there are walking into shelters on a regular basis, looking for such a liability-er, project? Very few--we already have multiple dogs.

Doing something unethical and quite possibly dangerous "because some people want to" is not a recipe for a successful enterprise. And, here's a shocker--MOST people do NOT want it. They don't want to own an aggressive dog, they don't want to live next to an aggressive dog, and they don't want aggressive dogs in their neighborhoods.

So these "save 'em all" rescue groups are endangering the majority to make themselves (and the mysterious "people who want to") feel better. Since it's never the dog's fault, they think what they are doing is humane. But what they are really doing is eroding the rights of dog owners, little by little. They are creating a culture of fear with dogs, so that children are growing up afraid of dogs--a fate that should not be visited on anyone, much less a child. These groups are turning people away from adoption (or dog ownership in general) in tiny little increments, which affects all animals in shelters. It has been said that only 10% of the animals in people's homes came from shelters. Do we want that number to decrease even more?

(And that leads us down another slippery path towards the "Abuse Excuse" and its ramifications.)

The truth is that some dogs are just not pet material. And until shelters and rescues get their emotions pushed aside for just a minute and realize how their inaction with aggressive dogs ripples out community-wide in mostly negative ways, they will continue to blame the owners, the breeders, the pet store proprietor, the puppymiller, and Jesus, Joseph and Mary for the dog's aggression.

It may not usually be the dog's fault, but it is all our problem.

Reciprocity

2010-05-05T22:35:00.003-04:00

From someone named Ben, on a blog I frequent:

This also reminds me of a similar revelation I had a while back: a person who says “no, thank you, I’m fine” all the time makes for a lousy guest. The dance of giving and receiving is what brings us together, and “being no bother” is actually just a recipe for estrangement.

I must be a lousy guest. And I never knew.

I generally refuse offers of things out of a sense of duty: thou shalt not maketh they host wait on thee hand and foot. I feel like I'm imposing if I actually accept something being offered to me upon arrival at someone's home.

Host says, "Can I get you anything? A stiff drink? Soda? Water?"
Me, completely parched to the bone, croaks, "No, thanks. I drank some three days ago," and then I collapse from dehydration.

Seriously, I was taught to refuse offers (and I will not be swayed by Mafioso) because one didn't want to be any bother. I was also taught to say "Yes, Sir" and "No, Ma'am," which I still do to this day, though the line is blurring as to whom it is appropriate to say that, now that I am "of a certain age." And in the spirit of "Bless your heart" (which I could never bring myself to adopt), I learned to say "Wow, that's interesting" when what I was really thinking was, "You gotta be freaking kidding me!"

I guess I never considered that it was rude to not accept. Of course, I knew that some hosts insist until you give in, and what can you do when that happens? Not much. They win. Drink up, Sweetheart.

I actually have a philosophy about it now, especially if what is being offered is of great value. Politely refuse once, and thank them. When it is offered again, politely refuse again. You need to be serious, not coy. You are turning the offer down because It's Too Much.

If they go away, and after long enough to have considered it (like days, not minutes), offer a third time, then jump on that train, Sister! If I give you 2 full, honest refusals, and you offer again, then I very well might accept. So...if you want me to have something, you may have to wear me down.

But how about the ones who only offer once? Or maybe offer again a little later? Isn't it possible they are secretly hoping you'll be polite and refuse them?

If so, don't offer it to me more than twice.

What about you?

The Best Gift You'll Ever Give

2010-05-01T20:30:00.005-04:00

I'm sure no one who enjoys the company of dogs will find this surprising.

Many people would prefer to have conversations with their dogs than with their spouses.

It's not because dogs are wittier, have a greater grasp of the language, or will answer thorny philosophical questions.

It's because they listen. Or, we think they listen. Regardless, they give off the appearance of rapt attention, and as humorist Dave Barry says, "You can say any fool thing to a dog, and the dog will give you this look that says, 'My God, you're right! I never would've thought of that!'"

That's why we like to talk to dogs. (Though I confess I talk to my dogs not because I think they listen to my ramblings, but because I amuse myself by talking to them. I also talk to myself a lot, so there you go.) I'm sure people have other reasons, too.

"The dog is a yes-animal. Very popular with those who cannot afford a yes-man." ~Robertson Davies

But this story brings up a better question for me. Why don't we humans listen better to our loved ones? Many of us pay rapt attention to inconsequential stuff: pop music lyrics, TV shows, sports statistics, snippets about celebrities. Some of us also pay attention to teachers, and other sources of education. What one chooses to pay attention to depends on what one values. It also depends on what one hears frequently, or less frequently. It's easy to "tune out" conversations with our loved ones because they seem to become repetitive, or we find them mundane.

Unfortunately,
"tuning out" those we care about--those we should be listening to--sends a message we probably do not want to send. It says to those people that we don't care, or that we have better things to do.

This is hurtful and depressing, and it definitely doesn't help our relationships. Becoming a better listener can change your relationships immensely, and improve your life.

Try this experiment.

The next time your partner, husband, wife, sibling, parent, lover, girlfriend, boyfriend, your child, or a trusted friend asks (or just begins) to speak with you, do the following.

Put down everything your hands are busy with. This means your computer, phone, coffee cup, paper, pen, Wii controller, whatever. Stop touching it. If it is going to tempt you, put it away.

If the person is sitting, you should sit across from them. If they are standing, you should stand across from them, or invite them to sit.

Face the person, and put your empty hands on the table, or on your lap, loosely clasped. If you are standing, they should be at your sides loosely. Do NOT put them in your pockets, or hide them in any way. Do NOT cross your arms in front of your chest.

Your hands should be visible, empty, and still.

Stand or sit comfortably, back straight, but not rigid. You should be comfortable, but not slouchy. Face the person directly, and look them in the eyes, warmly.

Now, here's the tricky part.

LET. THEM. SPEAK. Do not interrupt. Keep your expression relaxed, but attentive.

LISTEN FULLY. You may not know how to do this, because if you are like most people, you have lost the ability to do it. It's like a muscle--you use it, or you lose it.

You can get it back. Starting now.

Wipe your mind clear--as much as possible--of all thoughts that do not pertain to what the speaker is saying. Do not think about work, or to-do lists, gossip, or what is happening later that day. Ignore your worries. Do not daydream.

Do not think of questions to ask the speaker when s/he is finished. Do not think of what you will say in reply to his or her statements.

Just pay attention, and listen.

Pay attention to the speaker as if your life depends upon absorbing what s/he is saying. No matter how mundane the topic seems (or actually is), your job right then is to hear it, and hear it fully.

When the speaker has finished their thought, or story, you can do one of two things.

If you are pressed for time, smile, and say "thank you" with genuine warmth, then go about the rest of your day. Your experiment is finished.

If you are not pressed for time (and really, can you not make a little bit of time for this?), do the following.

When s/he finishes speaking, count slowly to 5 (to yourself, silly). There should be a marked pause here. Smile. If the end of their speech did not contain a question you need to answer, lean forward just a little, continuing to look them warmly in the eye, and say, "Tell me more."

I don't care how silly, dumb, old, tired, or ridiculous the topic was. Ask them to tell you more. It wasn't silly, dumb, old, tired, or ridiculous to them.

This is someone you love. Someone who gave birth to you, or fathered you, or to whom you gave birth, or fathered, or you have known a long time, or with whom you are intimate. This is someone who knows you, and loves you. This is someone you cherish. This is someone important, someone without which you would not be the person you are right now. This person matters. And what they think, and say, also matters.

Doesn't it?

This exercise is simple to do. It doesn't take hardly any extra time. And you know what? It changes things. When you make the conscious choice to start listening, really listening, to your loved ones, your life will change, and so will theirs.

You don't have to do this with every person you talk to. Reserve it for loved ones who need to tell a story, or convey information. Do it once, and see if you don't want to do it more often.

Extra Credit: the teacher in me wants to give you a chance to excel. So here are 2 things that will put the cherry and whipped topping on this exercise.

1. When the above exchange is over, and you are alone again, get a pen and a notebook or sheet of paper and write down what transpired. You can write a synopsis of the conversation, or just how it made you feel. You can make notes of how it seemed to affect the speaker (if you noticed at all). You can write that it frustrated you, or bored you, or made you think. You don't have to be Tolstoy; no one will read this but you (and your heirs after you are dead--ha ha). Just write it down.

2. About 5-7 days later, approach the speaker with purpose, and ask them about the story. You might say something like, "That incident you told me about with your boss...how did that turn out?" Or, "have you made up your mind about college yet?" Or, "I was wondering if you were feeling better since our talk about Joe's illness, and how it was affecting you." Inquire about it because you want to know, and because you remember the conversation. And listen to their reply, just like you listened the first time.

"Excellence is not an act, but a habit. We are, therefore, what we repeatedly do." ~Aristotle

More on this topic to come. Let me know how the experiment goes for you.

Roll the Bones

2010-04-26T23:00:00.008-04:00

I remember being about 9 years old and accompanying my mom to the local Ben Franklin "Five and Dime" store. I believe the company is gone now (though a few stores may still exist in small towns by that name), but younger and more urbanly hip readers are familiar with the concept of the "dollar" store, now seen almost everywhere.

It's not the same. Maybe I have a selective memory, but today's "dollar" stores seem riddled with cheap depressing crap no one really wants (including the manufacturer), while variety stores from my youth had cheap crap a lot of people actually wanted, and used.

The Ben Franklin at our local strip mall was one of my very favorite places to go. I remember buying those balsa wood airplanes every summer, and I still have a fondness for their incredibly simple, rubber-band propellor technology today. And the store itself wasn't large, but it was dark and cool, and Mom would let me wander to decide what trinket I needed to have that very minute. Meanwhile, she bought sewing notions, a hook-and-eye loop for the screen door, a turkey lifter, and a plunger. Was there something the store didn't have? It seemed to my child's imagination that Ben Franklin had tons of stuff.

But not as much stuff as one can find at most every store today. And therein lies the problem. We simply have too many choices. And having too many choices can leave us overwhelmed and anxious.

I wish I could explain this as well as Cath Duncan does in this blog post. But I can't. So go read it, and come back. Because it relates to choosing a pet.

How having too many choices relates to pet acquisition

To paraphrase Cath's post, we use our left-brain to weigh the pros and cons of daily choices, and this works well for us, unless there are too many choices. Then, we start second-guessing our choices, which actually, according to Dan Gilbert, reduces our happiness. It seems weird, but from a personal standpoint, I can totally relate.

And it can affect all parts of our lives, even down to the pet we choose in an animal shelter. Oddly, I had always thought this was because of our pesky emotions, which definitely play a part in our decisions when it comes to animals. But Cath points out that using our emotions can help when there are too many choices. I don't have hard scientific evidence to prove my hypothesis, but when the shelter at which I work is at full capacity for adult dogs, adoptions plateau, then start falling off. Price or perceived value becomes moot (because many shelters lower prices when this happens, in an attempt to "move the merchandise"), and many "lookers" actually leave having truly only looked.

If you asked people as they were leaving why they didn't adopt a pet today, "you had too many to choose from" would not be their answer. I suspect it's unconscious, actually. They felt overwhelmed, but they don't really know why.

When a number of cages are left empty, adoptions increase. There are other factors that play into it, too: weather, the economy, time of year, how many black dogs are in the shelter, and the animals' behavior, to name a few. How clean the place is also affects adoptions, and the more dogs that reside there, the harder it is for staff to keep the shelter clean.

Overall, it does seem to hold true that too many choices of potential pets will stymie the "average" adopter. It's bad enough when you are looking at cans of tomato sauce, or brands of toilet paper, but when you throw homeless pets into the choice pools, people's already frazzled emotions take a huge hit.

(I will explore this emotional link regarding shelters in a future post. I've got lots of theories about it.)

It is often said that life was easier "back in the day" (an idea that minorities would vehemently disagree with), in part because there weren't more than a couple of choices we faced every day. I can see how this might have been true. From brands of products to how to live our lives, not having to analyze everything must have been a relief.

Technology has improved our lives immensely, but at what price? If adoptions decrease when one has too many dogs to pick from, then dogs stay in the shelter longer, which increases the chances that stress will degrade their behavior and health--even in the best-run facilities.

That doesn't mean adopters should make uninformed choices, but the opposite of that is not making a choice at all. And Neil Peart very brillantly had something to say about that.

Embarking on the Obedience Train

2010-04-14T01:05:00.001-04:00

Would you agree that stability and clear communication in relationships lead to their success? Then you should agree that trained dogs are happier than untrained dogs. Trained dogs’ lives are more stable and consistent, and they are rarely sent to shelters for behavioral problems. They are part of the family, rather than relegated to a boring backyard or crated most of the time. Since training your dog is so essential, one wonders why anyone would want to have an untrained pooch!

The sad fact is that many people are more willing to give up their dog instead of putting effort into training. Perhaps they are put off by the cost or effort required (often, the perceived cost or effort is greater than the actual cost and effort), or they simply think their dog doesn’t need manners. Whatever the reason, untrained dogs are suffering because of it. Finding a trainer who will work with you and your pooch effectively isn’t difficult, but it is essential to know what you need and where to look. Refusing to train the dog is simply not an option–-if one day you can’t live with him because of his behavior, why expect someone else to?

To canine professionals, training is not a luxury. It's a necessity. We have brought dogs into our lives on purpose, and there is no doubt that they have enriched the human race in immeasurable ways. When you realize that enriching their lives by simply showing them the proper way to behave in our lives takes so little time and effort, you will wonder why you didn't do it sooner. Training provides stability and purpose for dogs, many of whom are no longer performing the jobs that they were originally bred to do. It also gives them freedom.

As for what the "right" way to train is, there is one maxim to remember: no tool or method works for every dog. Dogs and their owners are individuals working as a team, and what works for one “team” may not work for another. It may take some trial and error to find just the right tools and methods, but once you do, your dog will thank you for it, and your relationship will be much enhanced.

All dogs need a leader and a set of rules to follow in order to fit well into the household. A competent trainer will be able to match your needs and the dog’s needs to tools and methods that work best for you. He or she will also be friendly, helpful, accessible, and care about what you need and want, in addition to making sure you are meeting your dog's actual needs. Training should be interesting and enjoyable for both you and the dog. Your dog should improve after just a few sessions, and you doing your homework.

Here are some pros and cons of the four basic training setups.

Do-it-yourself

Pros:
1. If it works for you, it's cheapest; minimal money outlay is mostly for books/video and training tools
2. You are building the relationship with the dog; dog learns to work for you
3. It can be done at your convenience in the place of your choice and at your pace

Cons:
1. The method you choose may not work for your dog; books and manuals vary widely in approach and cannot always answer your questions
2. No professional is on hand to make sure you are doing right by the dog and the dog is actually learning what he is supposed to be learning (no feedback)
3. No professionally-supervised socialization or distractions

Classes

Pros
1. Typically it's the least expensive of professional help options
2. Shows you how to teach your own dog; dog learns to work for you
3. The better ones contain a beneficial socialization component, and the added distractions of class prepare the dog for “real life” situations
4. You get to meet and speak with folks “in the same boat” as you–-you learn you are not alone, and you can meet some fellow dog-lovers
5. Allows for lots of training opportunities, including doggy sports like agility and flyball

Cons
1. The method they teach may not work for your team; instructors can vary widely in approach and teaching skills, and may forbid certain tools or methods that could work for you
2. Little individualized instruction; multiple class attendees means less attention per team
3. Not suitable for aggressive animals and won’t always work for major problem behaviors
4. Scheduling and geography may not jell with your needs

Private lessons (usually held in your home)

Pros:
1. Individualized instruction is tailored to your dog’s (and your) needs
2. The dog learns to work for you with the aid of professional help
3. It can be done usually at your convenience in your home and at your pace
4. Problem behaviors have best chance of being solved

Cons:
1. The method the trainer uses may not work for your dog or you (though a quality trainer will figure out the best way to get results)
2. One of the more expensive training options, and once you've paid for it, you may feel obligated to keep using the trainer even if it isn't working
3. It has less chances for socialization than classes
4. Regular “home” distractions (phones, kids, etc.) may lessen your chance of success

Board-and-train (B&T)

Pros:
1. Provides individualized instruction tailored to your dog’s needs
2. Your dog gets the basic foundation from a professional, away from the distractions of your home
3. Great for dogs that need to be boarded during the time they should be getting trained (i.e., crucial learning periods)
4. Most of the "startup" work is done for you

Cons:
1. It can be expensive
2. Dog is learning to work for the trainer, not you; you may not get good follow-up once the boarding has ended and find that the dog doesn’t behave at home
3. Most of the work is done for you, so your relationship with your dog is not growing
4. You cannot watch how your pet is handled or trained or socialized

When choosing trainers, ask questions! A quality trainer is one who is experienced, knowledgeable, makes you feel comfortable, likes your dog, is flexible and willing to use the tools or methods that work best for your dog and you, and who gets the job done to your satisfaction. After all, YOU have to live with the dog.

Word-of-mouth referrals are the best way to find a good trainer. Ask for references, length of experience, and what types of dogs and behaviors they've dealt with. Avoid a "high-pressure" tactic to get you to sign up, and avoid franchises with "too-good-to-be-true" guarantees. These often mask a lack of experience, and can inflate the training's price--and may do you absolutely no good. Caveat emptor.

P.S. Remember to take what you see on TV in regards to dog training with a grain of salt. Some of it works, some of it is just for show, some of it isn't even training. Plus, you don't know what ended up on the cutting-room floor. Though TV would like us to think differently, problems are never solved in one hour or less.

Training takes patience and time. Good training is efficient, but it cannot be rushed. Your dog has had weeks, months, or even years to build up his habits. It may take some time to erase them, and replace them with better ones.

If you don't have the patience for this, you should have gotten a cat. Or a guinea pig. Or a hamster. Or a fish. I'm just sayin'.

Why I love Max and Maira

2010-04-05T19:00:00.000-04:00

"I want to say
That wonderful ideas
Can come fom anywhere.
Sometimes you make a mistake,
or break something,
or lose a hat,
and the next thing you know,
you get a great idea."

~Max Stravinsky

Max is a poet, and a dreamer. He is also a dog.

Max is the hero of several children's books by the witty and wonderful Maira Kalman, whose drawings have appeared on the cover of the New Yorker for years, and hilariously decorate the pages of The Elements of Style (apparently, she went into a store one day, picked up a copy of the book, and decided that it needed pictures), as well as non-Max books and several lovely year-long blog projects for the New York Times (I am so hoping she will revive her blogging). The most recent is "The Pursuit of Happiness," from 2009. It will be released as a book this year.

Max is the dog everyone wishes they could be. That's why I love him.

"Good things come out of incomprehension." ~from "Illustrated Woman" TED video, October, 2007

Maira doesn't believe in talking down to kids. I don't have children, can't have them, and have never wanted them, but the fact that she doesn't talk down to them gives me hope. Most kids are way smarter than given credit for. Many parents think they have to "dumb things down" for their kids, but I find that to be tiresome and pedantic. I think children should be exposed to things that make no sense to them yet. I think it widens their brains. Like puppies, they are sponges, soaking up the world in little bits and bytes. You never know what will stick.

(That said, my never-to-be-born children would have grown tired of me, always offering them art and literature that was too advanced for them, and expecting them to like it. "Just because you loved Romeo and Juliet when you were 11 and practically memorized the whole play doesn't mean we have to. I wanna play Pokemon!" I would then grumble and sigh and say something like, "When I was your age..." and they'd tune me out. So, better to be sans children--I'm sure their taste in art would have bored me.)

Readers understand the incredible power of literature, and I do believe that kids reading a bit over their heads makes them better readers, and enjoyers of the printed page. Kalman's "Max" stories are poetic and use words most kids (and many adults, albeit typically not the ones reading her work) don't hear on a daily basis--words like pluperfect, ruminations, and debonnaire. Her character's names are delicious. (I so hope one day to meet a Mr. Hoogenschmidt.) One has the lovely moniker Ferrrnando Extra Debonnaire....great name for a dog.

Speaking about the seminal writer's style manual for the ages, Strunk and White's The Elements of Style, she muses,

"E.B. White wrote a number of rules which can either paralyze you and make you loathe him for the rest of time, or, you can ignore them, which I do, or you can, I don't know what--eat a sandwich."

Kalman's text in her kid's books scrolls wildly on the pages, too, which has a certain "to hell with you, typesetter" quality to it. It wraps dangerously around her drawings, clinging to them precariously on some pages. I LOVE THIS. It satisfies me like a nice rare steak at the end of an emotionally trying day.

You know what else I love about Maira? She takes photos of oddities, or everyday objects, and then draws pictures of them and thinks up captions. I can't paint, but I do like oddities, or the art of the absurd.

She uses words purposefully, and yet, with abandon. If I was ever able to meet her I would surely babble like a schoolgirl and bow down like a subject humbled before the crown. I'm embarrassed just considering the thought.

If you haven't seen her work, you are missing out. Besides the Max adventures (including my favorite, Swami on Rye: Max in India), check out Smartypants: Pete in School and Sayonara, Mrs. Kackleman. The Principles of Uncertainty is a classic.

.(above) From "The Pursuit of Happiness" blog.

Kalman's bibliography on Amazon

Definitely worth a watch: Maira Kalman, the illustrated woman | Video on TED.com

Rescue Remedy

2010-04-03T22:16:00.000-04:00

"Better to light a candle for one lost dog than to curse the darkness of man's indifference. Saving just one dog won't change the world, but it surely will change the world for that one dog." - Richard C. Call

Given the vast numbers of homeless dogs in this country, one understands why there are countless groups who are trying to help them. There are thousands of shelters or rescue groups in this country (no one knows how many for sure, as there is no agency that unites them all--despite the Humane Society of the United States' ploy to make their donors think there is). Some operate shelters, others do not. Some set up shop at local pet stores and other venues in an attempt to place dogs. Most utilize foster homes and large networks of volunteers to do, ostensibly, what’s best for dogs.

But sometimes, people look past the forest and see only the trees. Not all rescues or adoptive agencies are the same. Some are great places to get a “recycled” dog, and others should never be handling animals at all. This latter group includes shelters or rescues who do not put an emphasis on temperament, and therefore adopt out (or keep caged for life) known aggressive animals in an attempt to “save them all”; who do little or no screening of adopters, or are too strict and unyielding in their screening of adopters; who do not understand how to run nonprofit organizations, and therefore waste money and time; and who are “all about the dogs” while treating most people with suspicion or utter contempt.

A friend of mine was once refused adoption of a dog that would have been perfect for her because--I am not making this up--she “might decide to get pregnant one day and have kids,” and the dog was distrustful of children. My friend is not even in a relationship, and has no intentions of having kids—now, or ever. But the “rescue group” was adamant. Apparently, the fact that she has ovaries and a uterus was enough reason to deny her (silly women...always changing their minds, and stuff).

This is utterly ridiculous, and my friend is not alone. I have heard stories like hers numerous times. “Perfect homes” simply do not exist. When you are dealing in a commodity (dogs) that is utterly expendable in many people’s eyes, and you have a surplus of these animals who are dying everyday for lack of homes, you can be choosy to an extent, but being overly picky and unrealistic costs animals their lives.

Spending precious resources on dogs who will not be acceptable pets in most homes is also killing nice, adoptable dogs. Adopters are not usually professional dog trainers. They do not want a “project.” They want a pet! They want a dog they can touch, and train, and have around their kids and their kids’ friends, and make part of their family. In an attempt to “do right by the dogs,” many adoptive groups simply do not get this. Every time an aggressive dog is adopted out, all dogs in rescue and in shelters suffer the consequences. The adopter has a bad experience, and that bad experience leaches into the community like toxic waste into the water table. It is unethical to pass marginal or known aggressive dogs into the community by way of adoption. This is really also true for terrified or extremely shut-down dogs who will never be comfortable in their own skin, for they can become aggressive quite easily. Even if they never bite a single soul, seriously flawed dogs will try the patience of even the most stouthearted of kindhearted adopters. Most people, after 10-15 years spent with a seriously flawed animal that is supposed to be a pet but is instead a frightened, antisocial, unable-to-be-boarded-or-medicated dog will not make the mistake of adopting a "used" pet ever again.

Frankly, you can't blame them. But countless holier-than-thou types in the animal welfare business do just that every day. It's called "blaming the victim."

It’s time for “rescue” groups and other animal adoption agencies to wake up and smell the coffee. This “business” is as much about your potential adopters (the humans) as it is about the dogs. If you are not a “people person,” you don’t belong in animal rescue. If you are too emotional to understand that some dogs will not ever be good pets, you do not belong in animal rescue. If you think that your actions do not affect other dogs in rescue, you are wrong.

It has been said that only about 10% of animals in homes are from shelters or rescue. If rescue groups want to increase this number, they must be friendly, open, ethical, realistic, and a source for only the best-tempered dogs they can find.

Homeless dogs deserve nothing less.

Into the Canopy

2010-03-27T18:09:00.000-04:00

I am fascinated by trees.

The larger and more gnarled they are, the better. One of the reasons I like winter is because of how bare branches look against the sky.

Oaks and other hardwoods are my favorites. I like the sturdiness of Quercus alba, the white oak, and the compact, rounded nature of its leaf lobes. My front yard contains a lovely white oak commonly referred to as a "pasture tree." It is tall and its branches are very well proportioned out in a rounded form because it was not competing for light with any other trees as it grew. White oaks (and other tree species) in more dense areas have branches that grow upwards, almost parallel to the trunk. Mine has lots of perpindicular branches, which are lovely to sit in.

I have named this tree Zemyna, after the Lithuanian goddess of nature. That's her at right, in winter.

I enjoy the stature of the huge Northern red oak (Quercus rubra) in my backyard--so close to the deck that I can begin a climb from there. It's leaves are pointier and larger than the white's, and its branches are thick and hardy. They grow more parallel in general, but the tree doesn't have a distinct shape, really. I find her aesthetically pleasing anyway. Her name is Hannah.

Below is Hannah in February, at night, and in summer.

(The white rope hanging from Hannah is my static climbing line. More on that activity later.)

My favorite oak tree ever is the mammoth Live oak (Quercus virginiana) known as Treaty Oak in Jacksonville, FL. It is said to be over 200 years old, with a crown at least 145 feet around. It's an incredible tree to behold, with dozens of low-hanging branches that are thicker around than many trees' main trunks. Many touch the ground.

Other hardwood favorites that appear in my yard are American beeches, with huge, straight trunks, smooth bark the color of a newborn Weimaraner, and oval leaves with sawtooth edges, and a gangly Black cherry (Prunus serotina) that has never produced fruit and is stunted because it lives literally at the feet of a yellow pine. But it perseveres.

I also have a couple of stately Tulip poplars, a Southern Magnolia (whose branches are fabulous for no-rope "freeclimbing"), and a red maple (acer rubrum). We planted the maple just 4 years ago, and it has not yet had the brilliant fall foliage I so crave. But I know it will come.

Left: A "pasture" maple at a park near me.

Below: When I take a nature walk, I am often looking up, into the canopy.

Ad Absurdum: How Much Do We Hate the Gubmint?

2010-03-24T21:22:00.013-04:00

Whatever your thoughts on the healthcare bill passage, you gotta admit it has brought the crazy out in more than a few people. Where is the sanity, indeed?

One wonders how many folks currently on Medicare are protesting "Socialist medicine"?

Via Terrierman's Daily Dose:

(Author unknown)

This morning I was awoken by my alarm clock, powered by electricity generated by the public power monopoly regulated by the US Department of Energy.

I then took a shower in the clean water provided by the municipal water utility.

After that, I turned on the TV to one of the FCC regulated channels to see what the National Weather Service (of NOAA - the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration) determined the weather was going to be like, using satellites designed, built, and launched by NASA, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

I watched this while eating a breakfast of US Department of Agriculture inspected food.

At the appropriate time (as regulated by the US Congress and kept accurate by NIST - the National Institute of Standards and Technology - and the US Naval Observatory), I get into my National Highway Traffic Safety Administration-approved automobile and set out to work on the roads built by the local, state, and federal Departments of Transportation, possibly stopping to purchase additional fuel of a quality level determined by the Environmental Protection Agency, using legal tender issued by the Federal Reserve bank.

On the way out the door, I deposit any mail I have to send via the US Postal Service and drop the kids off at public school.

After work, I drive my NHTSA car back home on the DOT roads, to a house which has not burned down in my absence because of the state and local building codes and fire marshal's inspection, and which has not been plundered of all its valuables thanks to the local police department.

I then log on to the Internet (which was developed by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Administration) and post on FreeRepublic.COM and Fox News forums about how SOCIALISM in medicine is BAD because the Government can't do anything right.

Me, I'm taking a "wait and see" attitude on H.R. 3200. I admit that giving the U.S. government as much access as they would like to our personal information scares me, but I do not plan to panic until I read the thing.

Or maybe I should have just been in this class.

A Fresh Start

2010-03-13T20:15:00.004-05:00

So you’ve brought your new canine adoptee home after much soul-searching and a long choice process. He was waiting in the shelter for a long time for you to come for him, and you couldn’t resist those eyes and that wagging tail. Congratulations!

You tell your friends and family, “I am going to treat this dog like a king! He’ll lack for nothing, and be showered constantly with love and attention. He’s been abused, and cooped up in the shelter for months, so I don't want to put any limits on him. I’m going to make up for all the abuse and hardship he suffered up until now.”

Sounds great...except you will be doing Fido a huge disservice if you follow through with those plans.

Five Things Your Newly-Adopted Dog Needs:

1. Structure—he does not need to have total freedom in your home yet. He needs to earn the privilege, so utilize a crate and confine him when you are not there to supervise. Lots of supervision and pretty strict confinement helps the dog relax in the first few stressful weeks, and beyond. Wean him out of the crate gradually, once he has proven he’s not going to destroy the house.

2. A Schedule—get him acclimated to The Way Things Are in your home. Food, exercise, playtime, potty walks, and even alone time should all be put on a workable schedule. This also helps the dog relax and know what is expected. It also makes housetraining MUCH easier.

3. Guidance—how will he know what you wish of him unless you show him? Dogs are not born knowing how to behave in our homes. Decide what the boundaries are (and trust me, he needs some), and use firm, gentle guidance to help him understand. Preventing bad behaviors is a big part of this. Training is not a luxury--it is a necessity. Your dog and you benefit greatly from it. When he's settled in a bit, contact a local trainer for advice on obedience training. Here's how to choose a good one.

4. Alone time—your new pooch needs to learn to be alone some. Allow him to develop independence by crating him some when you are home, and by not showering him with attention all the time. Your eventual absences will be less stressful that way. Many behavior problems could be prevented had owners started crate training right away, instead of thinking it cruel. You don't have to use a crate to train the dog, but it's the easiest way to make sure he gets enough time alone.

5. A Leader—dogs live in a hierarchal system that demands a leader and a set of rules. You are the natural one to lead, so do it, or the dog will. Be consistent, and make sure all family members follow your lead. Don’t allow your dog to do things he shouldn’t, even if you think it’s cute.

Do you think leadership is harsh or cruel? It need not be harsh at all, and it's definitely not cruel. It shouldn't be confrontational, or based in anger or frustration. Leaders are clear, calm, and inspire a willingness to work in the dog--not fear. It's precisely what your dog is looking for!

A leader does not wallow in the dog’s past—he or she plans for the future. A leader does not feel sorry for the dog, he or she builds confidence in the dog with calm, balanced obedience training and guidance. A leader is firm but fair, praises and rewards more than she criticizes or punishes, and knows that dogs are not humans in little fur coats.

Enjoy your new dog!

Retaining That Dear Perfection

2010-03-09T17:50:00.002-05:00

It appears that originality has gone out the window when it comes to pet names.

I, for one, am greatly saddened by its demise.

Your child may be shunned for life if given some ungainly name, but your dog probably will not (as long as the name is positive). Naming your pet is about the only time you get to be creative with names. So why settle for Max or Buddy or human-centered names, especially when there are so many great possibilities inspired by foodstuffs, literature, cinema, history, art, and life? What happened to naming dogs after their best (or worst) character traits? Some of the coolest dog names I have run across are competition dogs, especially agilty dogs or frisbee dogs. The dogs have a joi de vivre, and so do the names.

Creative types name their pets to give them something to live up to. So do racehorse owners.

It doesn't take much imagination to figure that the human-centered naming trend is a direct reflection on how we feel about our pets. More and more, they are true family members. This is, in general, a very positive trend, but that doesn't mean we have to name them bland, boring names that every other dog at the dog park, daycare, obedience school, community pool, or arcade will be sporting. Get creative, people! I want to see more Grumblepants, Gullivers, Grundys, and Peabodys. What's wrong with McGillicuddy, Mortimer, Bixby, or Kismet? Why settle for Sam when you can say Sasquatch? Max is so common--why not Marlowe, instead?

During my high school, college, and just-graduated years, I shared my life with a beautiful Doberman pinscher, a breed that I am still quite fond of. The future English teacher in me already loved Shakespeare. I remember sitting at the table with my very literate Pop one night discussing possible names for my new puppy. She was, as puppies tend to be, gangly and goofy. But I knew she would not always be so. And I wanted a name to reflect her future pride, her beauty, her intellect, and her...sense of justice? To me, she had to be Portia. And so she was, for 13 years. And I'll never use that name again.

(Cue Max Steiner's "GWTW" theme music here.)

(That reminds me: what's with the naming of all successive pets the same name the previous pets had? Sometimes you get a II or a II or a IV after the "Buddy," but, more often than not, you don't. I think some folks just figure they are going to call the dog that name anyway, out of habit, so why not? It stands to reason that they should only date people with the same names of their exes, too. Just so things don't get too out-of-hand at a romantic moment.)

And on that note, there are these folks, who really won't forget their partner's names.

But as far as our pets go, names are definitely personal, and I certainly don't want to disparage those to whom Sophie, Max, Sadie, Molly, Murphy, and Henry are special, meaningful names. Sometimes, it's simply about convenience, too. If you adopt a pet who already knows that name, it's easier to keep it than to try to start afresh, especially the older the animal.

No one who knows her has to ask why my black and white JRT mix (seen at right) is named Whirling Dervish.

Sometimes, it's a name we've been wanting to pin on someone, sometime--we've had the name in our head for years, and were just waiting for the perfect animal (or newborn babe) to fill it. I have a list of names for future pets, and it grows almost on a weekly basis. (I dare not share it here for fear of it being usurped. I simply will not name my next dog "Magnhild" if someone else I know has a dog with that name. It will SO look like I copied.)

In short, I believe pet names should cover 3 bases. A good name:

1. Is unique, and/or special to the owner

2. Fits the animal (looks, characteristics, etc., though I will admit I prefer ironic names when it comes to looks, e.g. "Snowball" for a black cat...and I once had a white cat named Aunt Jemima.)

3. Is a positive representation of the pet, and the owner (please, no "Homicide," "Hitler," "Pol-Pot," "Massacre," or other criminally-inspired/dictators-we'd-rather-forget names). Have some respect.

4. Did I mention unique?

There are so many possibilities out there. Get creative! If you are a foodie, go to the library or the Barnes and Noble and skim through The Food Lover's Companion for good ideas. Anyone for "demitasse"? "Delmonico"? How about "Papillote" for a small white dog with pointy ears? (A Papillote is the French word for a paper frill used to decorate the tips of bones.) "Jicama"? A mandelbrot is a thin almond cookie. "Togarashi" would be a good name for a reddish small dog with a lot of gumption; it refers to a small hot red Japanese chile.

You like cheese? There are lots of good cheese names that fit pets well ("pecorino," "muenster," and "havarti" are a few possibilities). If you are a wine connoisseur, or like whiskey, you also have a lot of options. Fish and meat names can be fun, too. Anyone for Mullet? Schnitzel? Spotted Dick?

Into the Arts? There are endless possibilities. You can name your dog after an artist, composer, writer, dancer, or any actual work of art. Personally, I'd avoid a name like Napoleon's Nose, Transformed Into a Pregnant Woman, Strolling His Shadow with Melancholia Amongst Original Ruins (yes, it's real, and actually a good representation of the man's genius), But "Napoleon,""Dali," or "Salvador" would work.

Likewise, String Quartets 1-6, Opus 18 is a bit ungainly, but "Amadeus" or "Wolfgang" could be cute. One of my co-workers has a dog named "Wagner" (rhymes with tag her), but I cannot resist pronouncing it "Vahg-ner" and belting out a few bars of Götterdämmerung every time I see him.

The Wirehaired Pointing Griffon at left is named Drummer. Cute name in and of itself, but better if you know he lives with two other dogs named Harper and Piper. (Well, his owner and I think it is cute.)

I have a dog named after a pickle, and one after Jack Black's character in "School of Rock." I WILL have a Dr. Seuss-inspired name one day for a dog. And an Edward Gorey one. And another inspired by the Bard. (That's a lotta dogs. I'd better get busy.)

"From there to here, and here to there/Funny things are everywhere."

From Rosettes to Ruin

2010-03-08T12:01:00.003-05:00

Terrierman Patrick Burns has a lot to say. I read his blog on a regular basis, and he doesn't shy away from hot doggy topics. Because I am a thinking individual, I disagree with him sometimes, and certainly I don't know much about working terriers (though I have a terrier, who works my patience regularly). But I read his work often.

This is a nice article he wrote about what the show ring has done to the working dog.

Sine qua non

2010-03-04T07:30:00.001-05:00

“If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader.” ~John Quincy Adams

Dog owners have heard for years how dogs need us to be good leaders. But few people really understand how to take charge and be a leader to their dogs, because we get so caught up in our emotions about them—especially when we adopt dogs that have been given up or abandoned. This is natural; dogs are creatures who depend upon us for survival, and who may or may not have suffered abuse or neglect before they came to us. Wanting to protect them and nurture them is normal.

However, it is important that we not get caught up in what writer Jon Katz refers to as the “Abuse Excuse,” as it does nothing constructive for the dogs. The “Abuse Excuse” says that owners should not endeavor to train or discipline or even control their pooches, because of the horrible lives they have had. “Abuse Excusers” consider training and structure to be too difficult for these dogs to deal with. They prefer to live in the past, to make excuses, to pity the dogs, and think that their new dogs should just be able to do as they wish with little structure or guidance.

Though a few dog owners may be able to get away with this mindset, it doesn’t work for the vast majority of dogs. Structure, leadership, and training are precisely what dogs need most when they arrive in a new home. The stress of being kenneled, abused, or abandoned can be lessened greatly when the new owners take a positive role and become the leaders their new dogs need.

Your new dog is looking to you for leadership and rules in this new confusing place. The faster you put a good structure into place, the better off he will be. In fact, the previous owners' lack of structure is probably why the dog ended up in the shelter to begin with! So get him started right by stepping up to the plate and truly being his best friend.

What does this mean? For starters, get the dog started with crate training as soon as you get him home. A crate is as beneficial a tool as a collar and leash; it’s not just for housetraining; and used wisely, it will give you dog more freedom in a quicker time frame. Your dog will earn his way out of the crate as he matures and learns the rules. Properly crate-trained dogs are easier to live with, period.

A leader does not wallow in the dog’s past—she plans for the future. A leader does not feel sorry for the dog, he builds confidence in the dog with training and guidance. A leader is firm but fair, prevents bad behaviors and sets the dog up to succeed, praises and rewards more than she criticizes or punishes, and knows that dogs are not humans in little fur coats. A leader refuses to make excuses for the dog.

Be a leader; your dog will thank you for it. It is truly the most humane thing you can be.

Well, the world IS supposed to end...

2010-03-03T18:13:00.004-05:00

Yeah, read the fine print.

I had no intention of getting political on this blog. I posted this because it made me laugh.

But here's the thing.

I understand what her supporters see in Sarah Palin. I really do. She's pretty, smiles a lot, and she is "folksy," which is apparently very "in" right now.

But if you take away comparisons to others who COULD be running the country, and who are currently actually running the country, what does she have that makes her qualified to be POTUS?

I mean, when you bring her up in conversation, her supporters get all apoplectic and yell "Well, she'll be a HECK of a lot better than who's in there NOW! He's robbing us blind! Blah, blah blah."

But take away Obama and the way things are now. Look at Sarah Palin as a potential candidate based on her own knowledge, her own merits, her own abilities.

Does she really have what it takes? I do not for one minute think so.

For her rabid supporters, she's merely an anti-Obama; an anti-Democrat; an antidote, if you will, of What Is Wrong With The USA Now.

For that reason, I can see why folks like her. People are desperate. The current administration gets blamed. Things are not going too well in Washington, and everyone points fingers.

But that hardly means Sarah Palin is qualified to run the highest office in the land.

Obama is more than qualified to lead. You may hate his guts, but that's a personal reaction. Whether he is doing a bang-up job right now is another question, but he's more qualified to be POTUS than Palin.

I find myself asking, "Is Palin really the best the Republicans have?" A lot can change in 2 years, for sure, but honestly, folks--I know you like the folksy, down-home, feel-good, family-values-facade stuff, but it ain't enough to make her a good Prez.

"Lacking in gravitas" is an understatement. "Works well with others" doesn't come to mind immediately. "Thinks fast on her feet in a crisis" may be accurate, but I don't get that impression. "Able to kill and field-dress a moose" is pretty admirable, but I don't know how that will help in Washington.

Then again, the world is supposed to end in 2012. You betcha!

2010-03-02T18:30:00.001-05:00

I am a sucker for interesting statuary, especially cemetery statuary. The photo behind my blog title (shown at left from the front) is of an inspiring piece at the Crestlawn cemetery in NW Atlanta. Unfortunately, the man's nose is long gone, perhaps the work of teenage cretins. Otherwise, it's lovely.

I enjoy photographing statues and trees and other architectural delights with an impossibly blue sky in the background. You know the kind of sky that makes you ache to look at it? That kind of sky makes me supremely content. I bask in that sky. It's why I love fall so much.

These photos are from historic Oakland Cemetery near downtown. I thoroughly enjoy trips there, especially during fall and winter. I feel like John Muir experiencing Yosemite. I don't hear the cars whizzing by on Boulevard or Memorial Dr. I can spend hours there, awash in the tranquillity of the dead.

The dogs enjoy visiting the graves, too. Weddings and other ceremonies are often held there.

In Victorian times, it was common for cemeteries to be destinations for picnics. Families would frequent them like we do parks, and spend the day there. It's no wonder many of them are so beautiful.

If I ever get to Paris, a visit to Pere-Lachaise is definitely top on the list. You can actually take a virtual tour of Paris' most famous burial grounds.

Pretty neat.

I'd also love to see Highgate Cemetery in London.

Here is a cool list of statuary symbolism.

"Has anyone supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it."
~Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

All That Retrospection

2010-03-01T14:37:00.000-05:00

I guess blogging is the last (first) resort of the stifled writer. I tend to be long-winded in my missives, so maybe I'll learn from some of the Master Bloggers out there and learn to make my points quickly and well.

Maybe pigs will levitate, too.

Thanks for reading my ramblings. My attempts at humor can be facile, or puerile, depending on your sense of humor. I hope to be able to express myself differently than the 2,733,609 other bloggers out there. Yes, I counted.

I spend a lot of time in my own head. It's a bit murky in there, what with all the neurons and synapses. This blog is my facile and puerile attempt to cranially regurgitate some things I have observed, done, considered doing, read about, and slept on.

If you like it, come back ("I can't come back! I don't know how it works!"). If you don't, there are 2,733,609 other bloggers out there. Yes, I counted.