First of all.... I decided to start blogging again. Several people mentioned lately that they enjoyed reading it (though I can't imagine why) so I've decided to pick up my virtual pencil and begin again. Second, it may surprise you to know that this, my first post in many months is not about dogs.
Lately when I look in my email or at Facebook, I am bombarded with messages about what a bad job the president is doing. Now before you get up in arms, please know that I did not vote for Obama, and I am just as unhappy with many of the issues of our country as anyone else. However, to blame it all on one man is unrealistic.
What made America great is the work ethics, the perserverence, and the sense of responsibility that previous generations brought. Today, many Americans want to do as little work as possible, get instant gratification, and blame it on someone else when things don't go right.
So, before you blame it all on the president, ask yourself some tough questions to see if you aren't also at least a little bit to blame. Have you cheated a friend, a co-worker, or a stranger? Have you ever cheated on your taxes? Do you yearn for a get-rich-quick scheme? Have you bent the rules when filing an insurance claim, or a reimbursement at your work? Are you really teaching your kids about the value of hard work? And are you willing to give a little more than you are required at your job, to your spouse, to your community, to your church?
It is easy enough to sit back and blame this all on one man or even blame it on congress... but we need to recognize that to repair this will require us all to give up on some things and to work harder than before, just to stay the same. If we are not willing to do that, then perhaps we are to blame as well.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
A New Chapter
We had so much fun at agility that we immediately entered every local show. At first, we did not travel, in fact, I thought that we never would travel for a show. We would enter whatever shows were local, but that was about it. Maggie and I continued to improve, and she read my signals like most people read books. Unfortunately, I do not learn as fast as she does, so we continue to have small mistakes when I give her mixed information. But more than that, her entire demeanor changed to the point that I forgot she was ever anxious or afraid. But the following spring, I was reminded.
We were at an outdoor trial at Purina Farms. It was nearing Easter so there were many little kids at the main building, but not too many at the agility ring. However, at one point, when we were taking a short walk around the area, a group of 4 or 5 little kids ran up. One of the older ones yelled "look! It's Fly!" (I suppose he thought that Maggie looked like Fly from the movie Babe). With that, the whole group came running straight at us. I could feel my panic begin, there was no way to head off all these kids and this was exactly the kind of situation that I had feared the most in our fearful days. It was why I never took Maggie out unless I could avoid people. I looked down at Maggie to give her a "heel" command and try to walk the opposite direction, even though the kids were very close. But when I looked down, her tail was wagging and she was actually looking right at the nearest child with a totally relaxed face. I was in shock... I couldn't believe that she had changed so much, so fast. It was more than I had ever expected.
Today, I can (and do) take her almost everywhere. There are a few people that she will shy away from, but there is no great fear associated with it... she will just lean away as she walks past. But I can't really blame her, there are people that I feel the same way about. We continue to trial in agility, and hope to continue until one of us has to retire. It has changed both our lives... not only did it heal Maggie's fear, but it brought us a huge network of friends that I cherish and that I would never have met otherwise. It takes up most of my free time and most of my disposable income, but I love every minute of it, counting the days to the next lesson, next trial, next seminar.
This is the final chapter in this story, but hopefully not the final chapter in Maggie's. And someday, years from now, like Murphy wrote the first chapter of Maggie's life, Maggie will likely be the first chapter in the life of another dog, and who knows where that story will take us. We'll just have to wait and see.
We were at an outdoor trial at Purina Farms. It was nearing Easter so there were many little kids at the main building, but not too many at the agility ring. However, at one point, when we were taking a short walk around the area, a group of 4 or 5 little kids ran up. One of the older ones yelled "look! It's Fly!" (I suppose he thought that Maggie looked like Fly from the movie Babe). With that, the whole group came running straight at us. I could feel my panic begin, there was no way to head off all these kids and this was exactly the kind of situation that I had feared the most in our fearful days. It was why I never took Maggie out unless I could avoid people. I looked down at Maggie to give her a "heel" command and try to walk the opposite direction, even though the kids were very close. But when I looked down, her tail was wagging and she was actually looking right at the nearest child with a totally relaxed face. I was in shock... I couldn't believe that she had changed so much, so fast. It was more than I had ever expected.
Today, I can (and do) take her almost everywhere. There are a few people that she will shy away from, but there is no great fear associated with it... she will just lean away as she walks past. But I can't really blame her, there are people that I feel the same way about. We continue to trial in agility, and hope to continue until one of us has to retire. It has changed both our lives... not only did it heal Maggie's fear, but it brought us a huge network of friends that I cherish and that I would never have met otherwise. It takes up most of my free time and most of my disposable income, but I love every minute of it, counting the days to the next lesson, next trial, next seminar.
This is the final chapter in this story, but hopefully not the final chapter in Maggie's. And someday, years from now, like Murphy wrote the first chapter of Maggie's life, Maggie will likely be the first chapter in the life of another dog, and who knows where that story will take us. We'll just have to wait and see.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The first trial
After only three private lessons, our trainer suggested that Maggie join in a regular class. In retrospect, it was the perfect idea… Maggie was so hyped by agility, that a bomb could have gone off near her and she still wanted to do a tunnel or jump. So the strangers in the class gave her no stress, she focused on the obstacles alone.
There were other people in our class that had their own issues… a big weimaraner that was more puppy than dog and another rescue, a schnauzer, whose apprehension of strangers was probably worse than Maggie’s. Together we took lessons and they soon talked about competing. I repeated my original idea that we had only done this to improve Maggie’s social skills, we had no intention of competing. In addition to that, Maggie was a tall, stringy border collie with a thin tail… I was not sure that the AKC would even provide us with an ILP. But as the weeks got closer, and my classmates began talking about their first trials, I began to think that perhaps this might be fun. There was a local show that I planned to visit, but something came up and I never made it. I pushed the idea back again. One night after class one of my classmates brought out a camera and a ILP (PAL) application. She said “if you don’t send this in, I’m going to” and that night we took the required photos. I can’t say that I was really all that anxious for the result, because I had not yet become addicted. But a few weeks later, the envelope arrived with her AKC certificate. As it turns out, the next show in town happened to be scheduled on my 50th birthday. We entered.
I doubt that I will ever have a more memorable birthday. Maggie ran great for a Novice A dog, and we took home two 1st place ribbons. But more than that, it turned a corner in Maggie’s mind. There were many strangers there, strange noises and strange smells. At first she retreated into her fear, but when I took her to the practice jump and then onto the start line, she forgot about her fear-it pretty much disappeared into the air.
And from the first run, we were as addicted as any junkie.
There were other people in our class that had their own issues… a big weimaraner that was more puppy than dog and another rescue, a schnauzer, whose apprehension of strangers was probably worse than Maggie’s. Together we took lessons and they soon talked about competing. I repeated my original idea that we had only done this to improve Maggie’s social skills, we had no intention of competing. In addition to that, Maggie was a tall, stringy border collie with a thin tail… I was not sure that the AKC would even provide us with an ILP. But as the weeks got closer, and my classmates began talking about their first trials, I began to think that perhaps this might be fun. There was a local show that I planned to visit, but something came up and I never made it. I pushed the idea back again. One night after class one of my classmates brought out a camera and a ILP (PAL) application. She said “if you don’t send this in, I’m going to” and that night we took the required photos. I can’t say that I was really all that anxious for the result, because I had not yet become addicted. But a few weeks later, the envelope arrived with her AKC certificate. As it turns out, the next show in town happened to be scheduled on my 50th birthday. We entered.
I doubt that I will ever have a more memorable birthday. Maggie ran great for a Novice A dog, and we took home two 1st place ribbons. But more than that, it turned a corner in Maggie’s mind. There were many strangers there, strange noises and strange smells. At first she retreated into her fear, but when I took her to the practice jump and then onto the start line, she forgot about her fear-it pretty much disappeared into the air.
And from the first run, we were as addicted as any junkie.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Remember when?
This cold and snow has me missing warm weather. I thought I would throw these out as a gentle reminder that we are on the downhill slide to summer. (please hurry)
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Part 11, the Teeter
Choosing which of my dogs I love the most is like asking me which of my kids I love the most. I could not possibly choose. However, I must say that Jake will always have a special place in my heart… perhaps because of the way he protected Sarah or the fact that he has suffered such hardship, yet continues to greet the world with such happy enthusiasm. About a year after we got Jake I started looking into taking him to nursing homes. He is not only good-natured, but always very gentle when I ask him to be. He would be completely unfazed by wheelchairs, loud noises, or even hands that might pet too hard or grip too tight. And, he would fetch tennis balls for hours, each time gently returning them to your hand. I figured that some older person in a nursing home could benefit from the interaction. I started looking into getting him certified for pet therapy, and found out that the first step was to get him some formalized training. I found a place not too far from home and enrolled him in the next beginning obedience class.
Jake loved it. He loved getting out, he loved the attention, he loved the treats… and we had the best time together. And he was very easily trained. In fact, by lesson four or five, I was beginning to see a competition-worthy obedience dog. He is one of those dogs that heel by looking at the handler’s face the entire time, rarely looking at where he is going. He stays in heel position like we are have Velcro holding us together. And even his long sits were getting better.. he was now up to several minutes and his hips were much improved.
The lady that was teaching the class complemented us on how fast we were progressing and suggested that we consider agility as well. She also taught agility and had an indoor agility ring next to the obedience area. I longed to give it a try, but I knew that Jake’s hips would not allow him to do it.
We also talked after class about Maggie, who, by this time, was becoming overcome with anxiety when introduced to strangers and strange places. And, as she got worse, I took her out less, compounding the problem. The trainer suggested that I bring her and let her try agility… that perhaps putting her to work would help. It took a while for her to convince me, and I made an appointment for a private lesson, because I was too nervous to bring her there with other people around.
From the first moment, she was addicted. At the first lesson she was jumping, doing tunnels, and running the dog walk. I couldn’t remember when I had seen her so happy. We scheduled a second private lesson and I went home. The following week on our way to the facility, Maggie began screaming when we got near the place. Not a scared scream… more like the kids in the “we’re going to Disneyland!” commercials.
About halfway through the lesson, the trainer suggested that we work the teeter. She explained that she would keep Maggie from jumping off by holding onto her if necessary, while I encouraged her to the end. I said “but you don’t understand…no one but me can grab or hold Maggie. I have to muzzle her at the vet… she gets so frightened, that I’m afraid she will bite you.” In true Caeser Milan fashion, the trainer said “That was before; this is now… she loves agility and her mind will be on this, not on the past. As long as you stay calm, so will she” And sure enough, Maggie went up the teeter, the trainer put her arm around her to guide her to the end and Maggie never blinked an eyelash. And as that teeter tipped, Maggie’s life and mine, changed forever.
Jake loved it. He loved getting out, he loved the attention, he loved the treats… and we had the best time together. And he was very easily trained. In fact, by lesson four or five, I was beginning to see a competition-worthy obedience dog. He is one of those dogs that heel by looking at the handler’s face the entire time, rarely looking at where he is going. He stays in heel position like we are have Velcro holding us together. And even his long sits were getting better.. he was now up to several minutes and his hips were much improved.
The lady that was teaching the class complemented us on how fast we were progressing and suggested that we consider agility as well. She also taught agility and had an indoor agility ring next to the obedience area. I longed to give it a try, but I knew that Jake’s hips would not allow him to do it.
We also talked after class about Maggie, who, by this time, was becoming overcome with anxiety when introduced to strangers and strange places. And, as she got worse, I took her out less, compounding the problem. The trainer suggested that I bring her and let her try agility… that perhaps putting her to work would help. It took a while for her to convince me, and I made an appointment for a private lesson, because I was too nervous to bring her there with other people around.
From the first moment, she was addicted. At the first lesson she was jumping, doing tunnels, and running the dog walk. I couldn’t remember when I had seen her so happy. We scheduled a second private lesson and I went home. The following week on our way to the facility, Maggie began screaming when we got near the place. Not a scared scream… more like the kids in the “we’re going to Disneyland!” commercials.
About halfway through the lesson, the trainer suggested that we work the teeter. She explained that she would keep Maggie from jumping off by holding onto her if necessary, while I encouraged her to the end. I said “but you don’t understand…no one but me can grab or hold Maggie. I have to muzzle her at the vet… she gets so frightened, that I’m afraid she will bite you.” In true Caeser Milan fashion, the trainer said “That was before; this is now… she loves agility and her mind will be on this, not on the past. As long as you stay calm, so will she” And sure enough, Maggie went up the teeter, the trainer put her arm around her to guide her to the end and Maggie never blinked an eyelash. And as that teeter tipped, Maggie’s life and mine, changed forever.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Part 10, Jake finds a home
Some of the first applications for Jake were from homes in the St. Louis area. However, even without the home visit, I had already decided that they were not going to be good homes for him. I suppose because he is not a traditional-looking border collie (and at the time I think we said that he was probably a mix), the really good applicants were looking at other dogs, and not Jake. And the ones that wanted Jake did not meet my expectations. But I was patient, knowing that the perfect home was out there waiting for him, somewhere.
I began doing some general obedience with him, and gradually began increasing the length of time that I asked him to sit. In the beginning, I was happy with 20 seconds, but we were working up to over a minute. Some days we would take a walk, but even a short walk would leave him lame a few hours later. He wanted to run and play with Maggie, but we really had to limit the running especially, or he would be almost unable to walk the next morning. We continued to visit the vet and talk about his hips and his strength. We also discussed the complications and cost involved with hip replacements; and we talked about keeping his weight low so that someday he might be a candidate for removal of his femoral head when his hips finally gave out. But, he did remind me over and over to keep him moving… keep pushing him as far as I could without causing him any pain or lameness. And so we kept working on walks, a little farther all the time, and sitting… a little longer every time. I tried to get him to swim, but he was terrified of the water, so it just wasn’t worth the trouble.
By the time Jake had lived with us for 3 months, his coat was becoming more shiny, and he was gaining strength in his hips. He was now able to play with Maggie, though I would have to intervene if it got too crazy. He was becoming a great little dog; yet most of the applications that arrived showed interest in one of the other dogs, and not Jake.
In the fall, we headed to the Kansas City area for the rescue reunion. Once a year the rescue invites everyone that adopted a dog for a get-together. Obviously, I would take Maggie to see her foster family and some of her littermates. I took Jake along for the ride and maybe drum up some interest in getting him adopted. I also took my daughter who was about 16 at the time. We stayed at a nice hotel that had a patio door that opened to a courtyard, making it easy to take the dogs out. A little after midnight they whined to go out, and she offered to take them both. Armed with poopy bags and a flashlight, she went out. Not long afterwards, she returned crying. A truck with several drunk young men and driven up to her. One got out and was walking toward her, making lewd suggestions. Maggie hid behind Sarah and cowered, but little Jake turned into an attack dog. She said that Jake lunged at the end of the leash with all his might. She said he growled and barked and foam flew from his cheeks. She said that the young man stopped in his tracks and returned to his truck saying something about a vicious dog. And as soon as they had gone, Jake went back to his happy-go-lucky self and finished his potty trip.
As soon as she told me the story I realized how foolish I had been to let her go out. And how Jake had likely saved her from who-knows-what. And I knew at that moment that I owed him a debt that I could never repay…but I promised him that I would never stop trying. And on that day, in Independence MO, Jake found his perfect forever home-ours.
I began doing some general obedience with him, and gradually began increasing the length of time that I asked him to sit. In the beginning, I was happy with 20 seconds, but we were working up to over a minute. Some days we would take a walk, but even a short walk would leave him lame a few hours later. He wanted to run and play with Maggie, but we really had to limit the running especially, or he would be almost unable to walk the next morning. We continued to visit the vet and talk about his hips and his strength. We also discussed the complications and cost involved with hip replacements; and we talked about keeping his weight low so that someday he might be a candidate for removal of his femoral head when his hips finally gave out. But, he did remind me over and over to keep him moving… keep pushing him as far as I could without causing him any pain or lameness. And so we kept working on walks, a little farther all the time, and sitting… a little longer every time. I tried to get him to swim, but he was terrified of the water, so it just wasn’t worth the trouble.
By the time Jake had lived with us for 3 months, his coat was becoming more shiny, and he was gaining strength in his hips. He was now able to play with Maggie, though I would have to intervene if it got too crazy. He was becoming a great little dog; yet most of the applications that arrived showed interest in one of the other dogs, and not Jake.
In the fall, we headed to the Kansas City area for the rescue reunion. Once a year the rescue invites everyone that adopted a dog for a get-together. Obviously, I would take Maggie to see her foster family and some of her littermates. I took Jake along for the ride and maybe drum up some interest in getting him adopted. I also took my daughter who was about 16 at the time. We stayed at a nice hotel that had a patio door that opened to a courtyard, making it easy to take the dogs out. A little after midnight they whined to go out, and she offered to take them both. Armed with poopy bags and a flashlight, she went out. Not long afterwards, she returned crying. A truck with several drunk young men and driven up to her. One got out and was walking toward her, making lewd suggestions. Maggie hid behind Sarah and cowered, but little Jake turned into an attack dog. She said that Jake lunged at the end of the leash with all his might. She said he growled and barked and foam flew from his cheeks. She said that the young man stopped in his tracks and returned to his truck saying something about a vicious dog. And as soon as they had gone, Jake went back to his happy-go-lucky self and finished his potty trip.
As soon as she told me the story I realized how foolish I had been to let her go out. And how Jake had likely saved her from who-knows-what. And I knew at that moment that I owed him a debt that I could never repay…but I promised him that I would never stop trying. And on that day, in Independence MO, Jake found his perfect forever home-ours.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Part 9-Jake looks for a home
Jake's photo from the shelter 
At first, I did not think that Jake would fit in well. I’d never had a male dog and it just seemed… well… wrong. I had some preconceived notion that he would mark… he didn’t. I thought it would be hard to housebreak him… it wasn’t. I thought that he would not be affectionate…he was. In fact, almost everything I thought was true about male dogs was untrue about him. Within days, he had figured out just how to creep up onto the sofa in super-stealth mode so that I would not notice. He would snuggle on my feet at the computer and follow me everywhere.
I scheduled a vet appointment for him, first, to make sure he was healthy and also to arrange for his neuter surgery. I assumed that he would be apprehensive about walking into any place that smelled like a vet or a shelter, but he marched right in with tail wagging-like a politician running for office. He still does that, too… stops by to say hello to everyone, even jumps up and peaks at the people behind the counter. Anyway, we got in to see the vet and we talked about what a great little dog he was, and what bad shape he was in. His coat was dull and thin, and he had very poor muscle tone. His rear legs and hips had virtually no muscles and if you put your hand on the top of his hips when he sat, you could feel popping and uneven motion between the two sides. And the poor guy could only sit for a few minutes before he would flop over into a puppy sit. He just lacked the muscle strength to sit normally. The vet suggested that he had probably been enclosed in a small area for so long, that he had not developed any muscles in his hindquarters. But his hips were so unstable, we also considered that perhaps he had such bad hips that maybe he just didn’t want to run or jump. So they took him back for a few x-rays.
The results of the x-rays were staggering. His hips were not good, but not terrible like we thought they might be. The bad part was that his little body was just riddled with pellets. The vet said that they sometimes see dogs, especially hunting dogs, with bird shot from a shotgun. But these were not the little BBs you would see in a case like that. These are pellets from a pellet gun, and they were in multiple areas of his body. Since then, between x-rays and checking him over, we’ve found about 2 dozen. Quite a few are in his hips, some in his legs and feet, front shoulders, chest, even one in his ear, and in his tail. And since they were all healed by the time I got him at 6 or 7 months, he must have been a little pup when someone did this to him. To this day, I get choked up thinking about the cruelty this little guy had experienced.
We scheduled his neuter surgery and he pulled through like a champ. While he was out, the vet removed three or four of the pellets that were near the surface that seemed to be bothering him. When I went to pick him up, he was his usually charming self, unfazed by the surgery and making his rounds with the employees, saying goodbye. What a ham. It was going to be very difficult to let this boy move on to an adoptive family. But we took more pictures and I updated the website with more information and before long, applications began to arrive.
At first, I did not think that Jake would fit in well. I’d never had a male dog and it just seemed… well… wrong. I had some preconceived notion that he would mark… he didn’t. I thought it would be hard to housebreak him… it wasn’t. I thought that he would not be affectionate…he was. In fact, almost everything I thought was true about male dogs was untrue about him. Within days, he had figured out just how to creep up onto the sofa in super-stealth mode so that I would not notice. He would snuggle on my feet at the computer and follow me everywhere.
I scheduled a vet appointment for him, first, to make sure he was healthy and also to arrange for his neuter surgery. I assumed that he would be apprehensive about walking into any place that smelled like a vet or a shelter, but he marched right in with tail wagging-like a politician running for office. He still does that, too… stops by to say hello to everyone, even jumps up and peaks at the people behind the counter. Anyway, we got in to see the vet and we talked about what a great little dog he was, and what bad shape he was in. His coat was dull and thin, and he had very poor muscle tone. His rear legs and hips had virtually no muscles and if you put your hand on the top of his hips when he sat, you could feel popping and uneven motion between the two sides. And the poor guy could only sit for a few minutes before he would flop over into a puppy sit. He just lacked the muscle strength to sit normally. The vet suggested that he had probably been enclosed in a small area for so long, that he had not developed any muscles in his hindquarters. But his hips were so unstable, we also considered that perhaps he had such bad hips that maybe he just didn’t want to run or jump. So they took him back for a few x-rays.
The results of the x-rays were staggering. His hips were not good, but not terrible like we thought they might be. The bad part was that his little body was just riddled with pellets. The vet said that they sometimes see dogs, especially hunting dogs, with bird shot from a shotgun. But these were not the little BBs you would see in a case like that. These are pellets from a pellet gun, and they were in multiple areas of his body. Since then, between x-rays and checking him over, we’ve found about 2 dozen. Quite a few are in his hips, some in his legs and feet, front shoulders, chest, even one in his ear, and in his tail. And since they were all healed by the time I got him at 6 or 7 months, he must have been a little pup when someone did this to him. To this day, I get choked up thinking about the cruelty this little guy had experienced.
We scheduled his neuter surgery and he pulled through like a champ. While he was out, the vet removed three or four of the pellets that were near the surface that seemed to be bothering him. When I went to pick him up, he was his usually charming self, unfazed by the surgery and making his rounds with the employees, saying goodbye. What a ham. It was going to be very difficult to let this boy move on to an adoptive family. But we took more pictures and I updated the website with more information and before long, applications began to arrive.
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