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Author Archives: Donna Black-Sword

Well, Hello Deer

Why, hello deer

You know, I’ve always kinda liked the humble little burgh where we live.  So much so, that apparently I’m willing to drive an hour to my job, which is located in a more upscale locale with a denser population. We’ve grown roots here in this town, we have. Family, friends and many of our interests are comfortably close by.

We chose this community to put the Favorite Kid through the local public school system, having moved from an even smaller town*. The schools here have boasted an Excellent rating for several years and now that I have a college grad for a kid I can lay claim that we made a pretty good choice coming out this way.

A couple things I miss out here, though. It would be lovely to have bookstore with a coffee shop to lounge about in.  And . . . well, actually that’s pretty much it. Oh wait, no.  A bookstore with a coffee shop and an outdoor patio.  Some flowers, a couple of throw pillows** . . . [sigh]

But when I tell The Husband about the upcoming training event for the CCI pups at a Cabela’s in Columbus, I realize that a big, honkin’ sporting good store might spark the interest of some folk as well.

Google Maps tells us to expect this to be an hour and a half drive to the new Cabela’s, the first of its name in Ohio, located within all the bustle of Polaris commerce. As we navigate through this fancy commercial area, we’re reminded of all the other shops and eateries missing from our simple burgh. Polaris shows herself to be a rapidly growing area. Similar to watching your buildings time lapse like in SimCity 4, there are new stores of all genres going up on every street and avenue. And just when you think you’re on a main road, it’s all nope, this is just a sub-street to a parking lot and you have to find another route across to get to where you want to be. Like a labyrinth, but one designed by a city planning engineer.

But no matter, we make it on time for an obligatory after-the-drive potty break for Euka and to join the other CCI puppy raisers outside Cabela’s entrance.  Walking towards the gathering group I realize, if memory serves, this is only the third time Euka has been in the presence of so many other CCI puppies in training.  We give her a moment to process this info across the canine neurons (play or work?) before we move into the training event in the store. 

I catch a shot of her with a ponderous look.  Such deep thoughts, one has to wonder what profundity is working through the noggin.

Don’t labyrinths have minotaurs?

This isn’t our first visit to a Cabela’s with a CCI puppy, so we had an inkling of an idea of what to expect inside with Euka.  Every dog is different, of course, so best to not get distracted from any signs that the puppy is feeling stressed. In dog language, a full on stare and stiff body exhibited by another dog is an aggressive challenge. So it could be that a full size taxidermied critter might bring on a fight or flight response in a puppy. Be aware, but don’t be stressed about it — the puppy will pick up on this too, we know.
Micron’s trip to a Cabela’s a couple of years ago in Virginia, back when he was a mere pup in training, was a non-eventful affair. No problems then with staring prong-horns or beady eyed catfish in the aquarium. Well, just that one worrisome moment when I thought the big guy might claim a stuffed jackrabbit as his very own fluffy bunny, but that passed without security getting involved.



Oh, c’mon, people. Even a dog can make a smore.

Euka doesn’t have the same stuffed animal fixation as the mighty Micron, so we move smoothly among the taxidermy art to practice Ups, Unders, Visits and such in this distracting environment.

On left is Euka demonstrating Up, a command that the CCI trainers will build on as they teach the dogs to turn on light switches.

Do note the boxes on the left display there.  Those are campfire smores kits. In a box. When I was a kid, we had to make our own smores from raw ingredients like stale graham crackers and sticks out of the yard, and not from some prefab stuff in a box. You kids today have it so easy.

Moving on, in the photo below Euka is demonstrating her Derp face as she performs the Under command.



Derp

At the fish tank, Euka shows no interest in the whatever those are finning around in there. No, our little tart is more interested in the cute guy on the left.

look at me look at me look at me

Next to the Dead Thing Mountain display, we have the pups do a Jump onto a cedar bench. I’m not in any hurry to work on this one. With that Tigger spring in her butt, Euka has no problem with Jump.  She can jump efficiently, even without a command. Like the time she jumped, all four paws now, onto my desk at work to get a better look at a favorite co-worker. Yep, this white girl can jump alright.

So we watch the other pups. Euka is in a Down observing one pup after the next.  Jump!  Good Dog! [photo op] Next . . .

Oh, this “Jump.” I thought you
meant the other one.

We go last, nearly everyone else has moved onto the next training challenge. Which, in hindsight, I’m grateful for. Because yep, shore nuff, Euka has completely forgotten this skill that she was, indeed just this very morning, so very proficient in.

Euka! I say. Jump!  Euka puts both front paws on the bench and turns to look at me.  She is smiling and wagging her tail like she just did the most amazing thing.

Well, I say. Good “Up”, Euka.  I swing her back into position and repeat the Jump command with the same sad ending. Alrighty, let’s try this again. Darn it, she knows this one.

You know how they say to determine that you’ve gotten a bit unhinged in the noggin parts?  You keep doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results***.

So yeah, fine. Just fine. Oh, for . . . just pick her up and put her butt up there, I tell The Husband.  I want a picture of her with the deer in the background.  I look at the digital image in the camera, deem it a pretty crappy shot yet somehow good enough because I’m getting stupid frustrated about this whole refusing to do the Jump thing.

Which is, of course, exactly why it’s so important to do these training outings.  No, not just to frustrate me. I can get that at home without the three hour round trip drive. Rather this is a good reminder of why we need to proof these puppies in unfamiliar and distracting environments.  Euka certainly knows her stuff at the places we frequent and it’s so very easy to set this as a pattern of behavior. But as she showed us at the cedar bench, we need to practice her commands in the new and different. Something we’ll now throw ourselves into with a renewed effort.

A thank you goes to Cabela’s and staff for being such gracious hosts and supporting the puppy raisers for Canine Companions for Independence.  We had a blast meeting y’all. And sorry about that Dead Thing Mountain comment. But it kinda is, right?

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*Ok, it wasn’t even a town.  Our prior residence was a village, a farming community.  When we put the kid through kindergarten screening was when we decided it was time to bolt.  Get this . . . after testing my five year old, we were informed that because he couldn’t skip, he would be certainly be a poor reader.  These scholars were ready to slap a remedial label on the kid before he even stepped a sneakered foot into a classroom simply because I never bothered to teach the boy the essential life skill of skipping. They even handed me a paper how “research has shown us” this factoid of theirs. Yep, I actually still have that paper. And apparently from this little rant, the grudge as well.

**Young Frankenstein (1974)

***A quote attributed to Albert Einstein, but a disclaimer that I have not fact checked this. It does sound like something he would say though, right? And wasn’t he just a bit, um, eccentric too? So if you claim to be insane, are you really? How would you know? Oh, never mind.

Wordless Wednesday: Chubby Bunny

Um, Euka my love?  What’s in your mouth now? I ask.

Muthin’, says Euka.  Why?

Because it looks like you’re storing marshmallows in there, I say.  Or auditioning for Brando’s role in The Dogfather.

Nope, says Euka. I got muthin’.  See? 

Ok then, I say.  Look me in the eye and say Chubby Bunny.

Shubby . . . says Euka.  Alwight, alwright! graaack [spit]

Ah, blades of slobbered grass fall upon her front paws.  Not the worst thing she’s rolled around in that adorable maw of hers.  But still.

I love how Ella’s in the background looking on with that I’m-the-Good-Girl expression.

Aw, c’mon, Ella says.  You’re not fooling anyone here with that innocent dog act.

Yeah, I know, says Euka. [wink]

"Baw"

I was wondering why that tennis ball kept getting bigger and bigger*, said Micron.  Then it hit me.

In A Big Little Life** author Dean Koontz tells a story about his neighborhood walks with Trixie, a golden retriever CCI retiree that he and his wife adopted.

Spoiler alert: this book is awesome. Something that which inspires one to awe. The entire, splendid thing.

In this particular walking-the-dog tale***, we get an understanding of the deep appreciation Trixie had for tennis balls.  After the usual passage of tennis courts along their stroll, one evening Trixie is disappointed to not have found an abandoned tennis ball or two this time. It is her daily joy to discover a fuzzy yellow ball to roll around in her mouth on her way back home.  But on this evening, something else is different too.

Trixie balks on the leash. She stops and turns to look back at the tennis courts. Dean Koontz’s wife, Gerda, is on the other end of the leash, wondering what is on her otherwise obedient dog’s mind.  In Dean Koontz’s words:

Looking up at her mom, she opened her mouth and thrust her muzzle forward as though straining to produce a sound — then spoke.”
 
“Baw.”
 
“This sound — pronounced like the word awe with a b in front, slightly attenuated — was so unlike anything that came from Trixie before, was delivered with such an earnest expression, and was accompanied by such tension in our girl’s entire body . . .

Turns out, she realized there was a ball hidden under a bush and she needed permission to go back and get it. She merely hesitated, because Trixie was a good girl and not the kind of dog that *cough micron cough* will forcibly drag their hapless person across three tennis courts to retrieve a high value treat. And so it seemed to Gerda that Trixie’s vocalization was an attempt to say exactly and simply what was on her mind.

Wow.

Ok folks, that story, and the golden butterfly one that opens A Big Little Life kinda gives me chills just a little.  Whether fact or the fanciful stuff written by a prolific writer of fiction, we Lovers of All Things Dog are well experienced in the magic of the human-canine bond, aren’t we?

Those of us so fortunate to spend our days with our dogs at our sides find ourselves somewhat bilingual with at least a basic level of Dog Speak.  We know to watch body language to determine if that yawn indicates a sleepy dog or a stressed one.  Or listen to specific vocalization as a clue to what our furry friend is thinking.

While lying around like a shedding carpet, a softly uttered moan indicates the mighty Micron is exhausted, but low groan is passive-aggressive communication that the big guy needs to use the lawn facilities. The latter requires him to actually get up and move, which I suspect is where the groaning comes in.  There ain’t nobody as skilled in the art of Relaxation as the mighty Micron, you know.

Oh, but outside play time is a whole ‘nuther animal, so to speak. Being a retriever, our Micron is hard-wired in the noggin to carry things about in his maw.  Of course, one should never expect this fellow to articulate a “Baw” to express his infatuation of tennis balls. But it is indeed clear when a game of Ball is on his mind. Micron keeps it easy for us.  He simply finds one of the dozens of tennis balls strewn about the house like little fuzzy landmines to roll an ankle on — and brings it to you.

With a wide doggy smile and plumed tail waving like a flag, he drops the slightly damp ball upon a lap and takes a step back.  His thoughts are radio waves with one simple repeating message: throw the ball throw the ball throw the ball . . . .

And we do.  We throw the ball — over and over. 

Noting the photo on the right, a ball in the mouth and second one to chase just might cause a short-circuit the canine neurons.  This situation, says Micron, blows my mind a little. I love them both so much.

Speaking of love, a friend with a new puppy was asking for advice the other day.  She has so much energy, says my good friend. And she chews on everything, even the furniture. What should I do?

Um, I say. Lookit, we all know I’m merely a Lover of Dog, not some kind of obedience expert. I have no more business giving this kind of advice than I do talking about tax laws. But in the Hippocratic spirit of “First, Do No Harm”, I give it a shot.

Well, I say. Sounds to me like she’s acting just like a normal puppy.  Good luck to ya. 

Ok, I realize that’s helpful not at all. So I follow-up with the benefits of crate training, Bitter Apple, and professional obedience classes.

But in the meantime, I add, here’s what will really help to bond you two. Simple things, really. Always be in the same room when your pup is eating and interact with her. Make sure she knows this wonderful experience comes from you. Give her a lot of positive attention when she’s good, especially so during those rare quiet times.

And this is really important, I continue. Play with her. Exercise her. It will help her burn some of that destructive puppy energy and she’ll eventually link these good times to your presence. It’ll take time, but some day this dog will know you as the Best Thing Ever. And it will be her mission in life to please you. 

She’ll want to play ball with you because she sees it makes you happy, too.

I’m confident with this bit of advice. I am.  Because it goes both ways, this playtime with my own dog. 

See, every time that Micron drops a ball into my lap and I look up from my book to meet his smiling, root-beer brown eyes, well . . .

That’s the Best Thing Ever, says me.

  

 
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*You see it, right?  The tennis ball?  Just follow Micron’s line of sight to see it hovering there in the top part of the photo.

**A Big Little Life, a memoir of a joyful dog named Trixie by Dean Koontz.  This tome is a wonderful introduction to Trixie and her life with Dean and Gerda Koontz.  And the glorious Trixie has told her own story in such treasures as Bliss to You: Trixie’s Guide to a Happy Life and I, Trixie, who is Dog.  There’s a whole feel-good series of these things. I recommend the lot of them.

***This story is found in Chapter XIV Freedom of Speech

Wordless Wednesday: We’re not fancy people

Jet skiing at Cedar Island. Sans the jet ski.

We’re not fancy people with fancy things.  Hey, it’s not like I completely reject the material life though.

We do so enjoy vacationing in a natural setting kinda venue and all. And I’d rather be in the quiet company of family and my beloved dogs than among throngs of tourists.

Micron says he can go either way. The big guy thrives on the attention of folk, because as he says, once someone rubs your belly they’re no longer a stranger.

But our mighty Micron is also an appreciator of what nature can offer up. On the first Saturday of summer, we Ohioans were not surprised to find ourselves in the midst of a hot, humid afternoon. The dogs had placed themselves strategically about the house next to the air conditioner vents.  Wouldn’t it be so nice if we lived near water, I said to the Husband. So Micron could go swimming again? Like he did on vacation last month?

But because we’re not fancy people with fancy things, we did what we could for our water lovin’ dog.

This, says Micron, is the best day ever!

Working like a . . . well, not really

Working like a . . . well, not really.

What do you mean by this word “irony”? asks Micron.  I’m a dog and this is how I spend the day in the office.  So yes, I actually am working like a dog, thank you.

‘Cuz if I were working like a human bean, he continues, I’d be walking around being all blah blah how was your weekend and yadda yada where do you want to go for lunch today. Hey, don’t think that it’s not like I’m not busy here and not just goofing off.  Because I totally am, doncha know.

What? I say.  Are we doing Bilbo Baggins-speak now?*  If I were a dog, my head would be tilting to the right trying to understand what you just said.  Lookit, you’re as flat a pork chop done on one side. Where’s my spatula? Just lift your head up, willya?

Naw, I don’t think so, says Micron. I already did that once today and I’m not into repeating myself again, because I already did that.

Well, at least his eyes are open for this photo. And to his credit, it does appear that Micron has the puppies under control.  He is sentinel of all that is yellow puppy.

Oh, you want to see a puppy, do you?  Well, you have to get past the mighty Micron. Wait. . . did I say get past? I meant trip over.

Friday was National Take Your Dog to Work Day, an event started in 1999 by Pet Sitters International.  Because my job in the pet food industry is really pretty freakin’ awesome, every work day is one I celebrate with a dog, or two, by my feet. I’m a lucky chick, I am.

To mark this national celebration however, I took the shot above on Friday.  Yeah, yeah, cute dogs and all. But let’s take a deeper look here, shall we?

In the far back and to the left is Kel, a CCI release and beloved pet. He is not a fan of puppies. Nope, not at all. This is as close as he was willing to come to the front, lest he get puppy cooties on him and require a hazmat decontamination.  Also, he’s also not willing to stray far from his one true love, Mary Ann (not pictured, but she’s right there).

And that’s our E pups in front. Ever contrary, Euka has one paw outside the dog gate. Hey, Food Lady, says Euka with a smile. I’m on the other side [snicker]. 

Everett is in the middle and showing off his good-boy behavior. Who’s a Good Boy?, asks Everett.  That’s me!  I’m a Good Boy.  Euka looks at him with squinty eyes.  When Food Lady says Release, says Euka. I am so pouncing on your good boy noggin.

And on the right is Ella, who understands where her bread is buttered, so to speak.  She’s expecting a cookie from me when this is done. I’m good for it and so she’s lasered in with those come hither with a cookie eyes. Ella is a smart, obedient girl and how wonderful it would be, I think, that some of that goodness might rub off on Miss Euka.  But just like kids, it seems to be the bad influences that win out too much of the time. Poor, kind Everett should be anticipating to be a yellow puppy samwich when these two stinkers pounce him.

Oh, and that sign posted on the dog gate?  What does that say, you ask?  Well, it’s there to remind folk to reward our CCI pups with positive attention only when they can show some self-control.** “Please don’t pet us until we are sitting”, says the sign. 

Ok, so we do have on tap more than yellow CCI dogs in some stage of early career development – or forced early retirement, like Kel and Micron.  Other co-workers have . . . what’s the right word here?  Normal dogs? Pet dogs? Rescue dogs? Dogs not on a career path? I dunno, but Nahla is here to show you her ethereal beauty.  Nahla, just a young thing, isn’t to the stay-here-while-I-take-your-picture stage of life yet.  It took me so long to set up this shot that even Micron got bored and left. 

However, I do want to draw your attention to Euka, who is still sticking that paw out of the gated area. With dead on eye contact, the little tart.

Why do you keep calling me Stay? My name’s Nahla.

Micron’s still waiting for a movie role

So if, as they say, everyone gets fifteen minutes of fame, we still have fourteen minutes and some change left.

The List, a program aired in the Cincinnati area, was in the office last week to get some footage of our pet-friendly workplace.  Before you watch the two-minute clip below, I want to you to know one thing.

I don’t usually wear flip-flops to the office.

Even I, never a slave to fashion, have some thread-bare scraps of a value system regarding office attire. It’s just that, well, before I left the house I kinda forgot to change out of my oh-so-comfy sandals and into the oppressive things I wear to look all respectable. And you know what else?  I had no idea about this filming until about thirty minutes before they showed up at my humble cube***.  I may, or may not, have reconsidered that blouse that is so colorful it appears to be shouting at you. [sigh]

But it’s not about me, is it? This is, of course, a story about the dogs.  It’s our friendly office canines that get the warmth of the spotlight in first minute of this video.

Watch for the mighty Micron, Euka II, Scarlet and Rhoda here.  Scarlet is the lovely pooch catching a treat from mid-air, Rhoda is the black lab getting some good air time with one of my co-workers.

As the camera pans from my obnoxious blouse to Euka in a Bed command under my desk, hit the pause to catch those rockin’ Labrador flip flops. My only saving grace here is the pedicure is fresh (color: Paint My Moji-toes Red).

When the reporter is walking with a dog on leash, that’s our Micron.  No, watch that again. I really need you to see this. Because he’s walking on a loose leash with a person he just met. Micron is. Heh, who knew he could do that?  My sweet, impulsive Hodor dog.  I was right behind the camera guy lest my dog saw a favorite person**** and wanted to say Hi! because he would surely drag that slip of a nice lady down the aisle with him.  Oh, whoops, see his attention shift there for a second?  Yep, he sees Scarlet, who has the best toys ever.  But check it out, y’all. Micron holds that Heel position like a pro.  It’s like he was trained to do this. For the last three years.

And do feel free to look away when Micron tries to slip tongue during that excited greeting with one of his favorites.***  That’s a rather intimate moment, y’all.

Enjoy . . .

Every day is take your dog to work day

http://www.thelistshow.tv/html/video-assets/swf/EndPlayVideoPlayer_v1_3_FP10_2.swf?v=041613_0&env=39840

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The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001).  Bilbo Baggins: I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.

**An awkward and ambiguous sentence, that one. Exactly whose self-control am I referring to here – the dog’s or the person’s? [heh]

***You know what they say . . . clutter is a sign of genius.  I forgot who said that originally. I had it printed out somewhere, but lost it.

***You know who you are.