The Swat Heard 'Round the World

The relationship between Pepper the Cat and Daisy the Dog has gone a bit south. Now, they are not drawing blood and I'm not sure Daisy realizes it, but Pepper has had just about Enough! from this silly little dog.

Pepper has always been a fairly solitary cat. She was Alan's only pet for years and enjoyed a mostly quiet, cat-friendly existence. When Al started the renovation on the beach house he intended to leave Pepper at the site. I thought, seeing that Al was spending all his leisure time at my house in the evening, that it would be better to move Pepper to my place. Pepper was not too happy about this arrangement as I still had Buster and Buffy as well as Lopey the Bulldog. We kept the dogs in the yard and house all day with Pepper confined to the bedroom for the most part. She had free reign of the house all night but mostly stayed on the bed with us. Since out return to the beach house, she has once again been on her own in the house. We have a heated "garage" that is really an office, gym, woodworking shop and dog kennel. It's as big as some folks' houses so it is ideal for the dogs to crate up in at night (During the day they had outdoor kennels and the yard to exercise).

Then came Daisy.

Now, Daisy is an indoor dog to the Nth power. She is small, delicate and gets chilled fairly easily. There is no way she could ever be a "kennel dog." I may eventually turn her out to Buffy's pen (equipped with a Warning: Police Work Dog sign attached) but that will be only in really nice weather. And probably for only a few minutes. Thus, Daisy is thoroughly an Indoor Dog.

When I brought her home, I told everyone, "The dog does not go upstairs until she is potty trained." I also thought to myself that this would give Pepper some dog-free space and time to adjust before Little Miss Daisy would rampage through the upstairs. As you know, Faithful Reader, Daisy was brought up into bed and under the covers on her first night by yours truly, Hardcore Dog Trainer. We now let her run about upstairs too as it is carpeted and her little Grinchy feet are so tiny and delicate we worry that they are sore from playing on the tile and hardwood on the main level of the house. (Could we be any more sissy-fied?)

Pepper, while patient, is becoming less and less keen on this arrangement. Daisy is now pouncing at and on Pepper both up and downstairs. The dog is officially chasing the cat. While Pepper has not yet made contact she has made it very clear (to us at least) that she can and will scratch the crap outta that dog if it continues to push her. Daisy certainly means no harm and just wants to play, but there is a communication breakdown that is typically normal between cats and dogs.

Dogs and cats mainly use posturing and body language to communicate (I personally think cats also use extrasensory abilities to manipulate their human keeper/slaves, but that is for another posting). Again, I must reference Stanly Coren's How to Speak Dog as an indispensable "translation" resource from Dogese to Human language (I'm not entering the "do animals have language debate" here; just trying to keep it simple with use of the contentious word "language"). However, Catese is completely converse to Dogese.

Let's start simply: with a bit of noise. Consider this, what does it mean when dog growls? A growl expresses anger, fear and rage. Mainly negative and aggressive feelings. What does a cat do that sounds like a growl (besides a growl, which they do do)? That's right, Faithful Reader! They purr. Typically cats purr when they are contented and comfortable (note: there is evidence that cats may purr during times of stress in an effort to comfort themselves, but again, let's keep this simple). Imagine your dear, sweet cat having a lovely nap on the couch, purring away and your dog walks by. The purr may well be interpreted as an aggressive, offensive act and BAM! It's on and dogs and cats no longer live in harmony.

My favorite aspect of the contrary qualities of Dogese and Catese is the Play Bow posture. When a dog commits a Play Bow it serves to indicate to another dog that any following behaviors are not to be taken seriously. Wrestling, biting and general rough-housing usually follows and typically does not end in a full on battle royale because the Play Bow serves as a disclaimer for any too rough actions. Cat's will do a Fear Arc when stressed. This is the typical Halloween cat position, back arched and fur bristled. Unfortunately, dogs interpret this as an invitation to play. Misunderstanding ensue and I am reminded of the story my Russian Language professor told us about the missionary at the Russian border who mis-spoke the word sumka (suitcase) as suka (THE C-word) to a lovely, zoftig Russian matron who proceeded to detain the Reverend as well as his sumka.

Pawing too is a contention for dogs and cats. Dogs will paw enthusiastically as an indication of play and as an attention getting behavior. Cats, being far more delicate in the initiative stages of play and tend to be more subtle in their demands for attention. So pawing, too, results in misunderstandings and bitch-slapping (pardon the pun; I couldn't help myself).

A final discrepancy discussed here is Tail Wagging. Tail Wagging for dogs should always be considered a reflection on the dog's heart rate and level of excitement. The carriage of the tail indicates the level of confidence. A low carriage shows a lack of confidence; a tail held high is high confidence. Just to be sure, dogs will wag their tail when threatened and it is my experience that most protection trained dogs will wag furiously when taking the (bite) sleeve. Joe and I stressed this in our Mail Carrier Safety Seminars. Cats wave their tails high and quickly as a warning. It usually means, "I'm pretty pissed off. Back up, M-F'er, before I scratch your eyes out." Dogs sometimes think this is an invitation to play.

As much as I love dogs, they can be a bit dense when it comes to cat relations. The cat, as a creature, is fairly self-assured and contained. As solitary animals, they really don't need any interference from us bumbling humans and it is, in my opinion, that they will condescend to our Renquist-like (spelling? it is early after all) servitude if we human so choose to serve them and share their homes which we provide. Dogs, on the other hand, need a solid hierarchy to exist successfully. The solitary dog is not safe and they must lead or be led. Specific jobs are allotted to specific roles in the dog pack and everydog must work at his or her position. Collective success (and thus, indiviual survival) is dependant on good leadership and contribution from all pack members.

Cats could care less about the collective success of the community. I've read unfortunate stories about cat owners who have died while alone in the house with cats and have had bites taken out of their remains. Gross but true. (I wouldn't put it past as dog to do the same but he or she would have to be really, really hungry!). Cats are true believers, no, advocates of survival of the fittest. And they couldn't give a flying squirrel about any other critter, feline or non-feline.

Thus, it is not only language difficulties that plague the communications between these two creatures but cultural differences as well. Unfortunately, there is little us humans can do to mediate the above differences. Our best bet is ride out the storm and let the dog take its hits. Which will happen often as, again, they can be quite dense. As for our Daisy, she is just not getting that Pepper DOES NOT want to play. Pepper has growled, Fear Arc-ed, pawed without contact and Tailwagged to no avail. In my opinion, she has been fairly patient, but Daisy will be getting a whack sooner than later.

I'm just hoping it won't be The Swat Heard 'Round the World. I'll keep you all posted!

She's Humping... And She's NOT a Camel

There is nothing in the world wrong with two dogs humping. There is something profoundly wrong with my 5 lbs dogs humping my ankle!

Many people are shocked that female dogs will hump as much (and sometimes more) as male dogs. Buffy the Rottweiler would hump the be-jesus out of Buster the Rottweiler despite a good 25 lbs difference. Her method (she would first sit on his head then hump down the entire length of his back) was fairly humiliating for a number of human male observers who would encourage Buster to "man up" and hump her back. He never once did. Buster was content to be an "indian" to Buffy's "chief." No matter where Buffy went she carried herself with a sort of haughty-ness and confindence rarely seen. Certainly, she was one of the brightest -if not THE brightest- dog I have ever owned or trained and thus well suited to lead. A dog has few politics and Alpha Dog ascentions are not popularity contests and there is no campaigning for the position. A dog TAKES the lead; he or she does not ask for it. And there is little chauvanism in the domesticated dog world: a female can and will lead a pack.

Industry, will and brains gets a dog to the top of the pack. Sometimes such subjugation takes the form of humping from either male or female. Humping or mounting behavior is not a sexual drive or a perverted practice: mounting is all about dominance. While size does matter in the dog-dom, problem solving can take a small dog a long way. The smarter dog, while disproportionate in size, can rise to the top of the pack when consistantly clever and watchful. Even if she is a female. This brings me back to my darling Daisy.

From my previous post you will all note that Daisy was falling in to place in our house and getting a bit more comfortable and rambunctious so I have stepped up her training to include a formal, submissive Heel command. Within days she began to mount Angus when he was on the floor. As the smallest member of our pack and another "puppy," he naturally would be the first target in Daisy's ascention attempt. In addtion, this was a test of the exisiting leadship heirarchy. She wanted to see what we (Alan and I as implicit leaders) would do. Of course, this behavior was corrected and redirected, but her method transmongrified: she now latches on to my leg when I am walking away and gives me a few subtle pumps. Essentially, Daisy is trying to catch me, Leader Extrodinaire, with my guard down. This Back Door behavior would be considered gross bad form among us humans. Recall the wild west where one should never shoot a man in the back. But dogs just don't work that way no matter how much we domesticate or fancify them. Somewhere at the core of my 5 lb-er there is a wolf lurking and plotting to take this pack for her own. She is testing the chinks in my armour.

As hilarious as it is to have her barely discernable weight mounting me, the intent is still the same. She is aserting dominance and must be gently lead back to her pack position. Ambition is rare in the incapable dog; most will comply to the ascribed pack position and be quite content, as Buster the Rottweiler was. Daisy, however, seems to think that there is a better spot for her in this pack, that there is a rank that she is better suited for. Truth is a dog is a dog is a dog. How many times I went to a client's house and found the dog running the entire household, I can't say. Some people cater to the dog and then wonder why they bark, jump up and nip at guests. I simply refuse to have a dog run my house. Besides, Pepper the Cat has assumed that role and I don't think she'll give it up easily! Just kidding, of course!

As a final note on this reactionary dominance from Daisy I must say that I give her a lot of credit. Being a pack leader, an Alpha Dog, requires a great deal of responsibility. An Alpha must be sure to keep order during meal time, during travel, during rest. It is, no doubt, an exhausting endevour to keep your ducks in a row at all times. I presume this is more evidence that she is as extra-bright as I suspect.

The good news is that she will comprehend well. The bad news is the smarter the dog, the more creative and crafty she will be when getting into trouble! Note: Buffy the Rottweiler taught herself to open round door knobs when she was 5 months old and progressed to kicking the door closed behind her. I can't wait to see what Daisy does next. As long as she minds her alotted station in MY pack!

Good day and good training to you all! And Happy Thanksgiving!

Let the Heeling Begins... Daisy Spirals Out of Control

When I was actively training dogs, I could estimate the behavior of the family dog based on the behavior of the family's human children. It is for this reason that I have banned all dog trainers from my home for the next year! Perhaps longer.

My children are fairly rambunctious. Not surprising as I quite remember my own childhood escapades and hear often about the ones I don't recall at family gatherings (it is for this reason that I stay home on Thanksgiving- just kidding!). Our house is very loud most of the time. My own Italian heritage and Alan's Scottish roots don't exactly blend to create a smooth, calm household. Don't get me wrong! We have F-U-N! But it is a wild place to be.

Daisy has completely adapted to this environment. All too happily. My potted palm tree has been dug up several times... by Daisy AND Angus! There is barking... and laughter, high pitched and often SpongeBob-like. There are several empty wine bottles in my trash currently. Daisy is still wearing and dragging her leash for control but we need to step it up.

How DOES one rein in an unruly 14 week old puppy, you say? Heeling. Heeling. And HEELING. Most of my old clients were confused about the term Heel so permit me to define this obedience task. Heel means walk at my side (left preferably as that is a naturally submission position for lesser ranking wolves and dogs in feral pack when traveling), don't step in front of me, pay supreme attention to me and sit when I stop. Simple. You are driving the dog. You are making up the dog's mind as to where he or she is going. With persistence and patience any dog and dog handler can do this. It is a kind and gentle manner of exerting dominance without coercing or abusing the dog.

Coercive or Force[d] training is using strength and -unfortunately- pain to induce the dog to do your will. Years ago this was the most popular method of training. There is such a wealth of information on dog psychology that it really is a disservice to the whole of dog-dom to persist with such archaic means. I refer all dog people to any book by Stanly Coren, especially How to Speak Dog. I would tell my clients: Steer with the nose, steer with the eyes, steer with the brain, but DON'T steer with the neck because there are teeth nearby! I accept aggression from dogs in only two situations: females whelping or caring for a litter or pain induction. Train a dog too hard and you ARE going to get bit. Also, you are just establishing a poor, fear based relationship with your dog. No fearful dog will ever be reliable.

So, with all this in mind, Daisy has begun the next phase of her education. Be assured I have not yet prong collared her (though I do have a Mighty Max Ultra Mini Prong that I wear as a braclet at dog shows). Currently she is being baited with BilJac treats... and my back is killing me from bending over.

She, however, feels and looks great. The storm is passing. If only I could get the kids Heel!!!

More to come! Stay well and train well!

The Difference Between Big Dogs and Little Dogs

I rushed over this week to meet my Aunt Laine and Uncle Kenny's new dog, Piper. He is a very cute, black Labradoodle. I had Angus, the Junior Dog Trainer with me and Laine was the only one home so I really didn't do a full puppy class for her as promised but there is time as he is only 8 weeks old. Nonetheless, I found myself considering the differences between their puppy experience and ours with Daisy.

Firstly and most obviously, Piper is probably three times the size of her and much more substantial in form. In my opinion, this leads us to have a firmer, more consistant hand in training. I have trained countless dogs of all sizes and it is just much easier to "swoop" a bigger pup in for a sit or execute a wolf-roll when you know the dog is going to 50+ pounds. I'm sitll quite scared that I may "break" Daisy given her delicate figure and on her potty outtings I'm letting her make Dog Training Mistake #3: I'm letting her pull on the leash. This is a Cardinal (spelling?) Sin in dog training. The dog MUST follow your lead and NEVER pull on the lead. How many times I have seen a small dog pulling on a lead and thought to myself, "that dog is never going to take direction from the handler" I can't say. I have offically joined that club, certification be damned.

Secondly, big dog owners seem to know there is an urgency for training. Aunt Laine said to me, "I told everybody in the house: this dog is going to be good and he is going to be trained." Great afirmation on her part. When I had my last two Rotties, Buster and Buffy the Dogs of Ward, during the difficult stretches of their training I would say to myself, "I love training these dogs, I love training these dogs." Knowing your dog is going to be big does light a fire under you to have good control. With our Daisy, I find myself referring to my trick training books rather than le grande obedience guidelines and basic principles.

Thirdly, I am letting her jump up. Now, I am the first person to be annoyed when a small dog is pawing at my legs and squeaking with utter abandon. Years ago I had a great friend named Danny Breen who would love to come over and try to get Buster and Buffy to jump up on him. So well conditioned, they would plant themselves in unison in a sit and would utterly refuse to hop up no matter what bait he used. Buster was quite gregarious and agile and I worked very hard to stop him from putting his 90+ lbs on anyone. There is nothing quite so disconcerting as a Rottweiler putting paws on your shoulders and staring you down eye to eye even if he is "smiling" and wagging away. Daisy is certainly not a threatening dog but I'm well on the path of training her to be annoying.

I have a feeling I am going to be quite jealous of Aunt Laine and Uncle Kenny's dog. More of a working-type, obedience-ready kind of dog, I think he is going to be a more "funsport" kind of train, the kind you can teach frisbee fetch and a really soild Heel command.

Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade Daisy for all the world and she has a great brain. I had an instructor at National K-9 that had two protection trained Welsh Corgis that were an absolute riot. I also knew a trainer in Cherry Hill that had a toy breed she offered for home drug detection (ie. hire her to find drugs your teenagers have stashed in their room). Despite recalling these tiny rockstar-dogs I'm still wondering if I can get Daisy to balance on a ball circus-style.

The end of times is neigh for I have a minivan... and a toy breed!

You know you are up early when...

We had a tough night last night. Oh, no! The puppy's great. The kids were bored and Ella was tired and mega-crabby. Daddy was super-ultra-crabby after having a "crappy night's sleep and a dream that [he] lost Angus in the mall." Daisy slept on her new bed in the kitchen pretty much the whole time the whole house was whining and carrying on.

Both kids went down for a nap in the late, LATE afternoon. Angus got back up, had dinner and went back to bed at the regular time. Ella, on the other hand, couldn't quite wake back up for dinner and was wildly crabby all through their deluxe dinner of Cap'n Crunch Chicken Fingers so she went directly back to bed.

Now, I take some ribbing from my friends and fellow moms that I put my kids to bed too early and that's why they get up so early (on the average 5:30 am) but Al experimented last week and kept them up 'til 7pm. Bad idea: they were speaking in tongues by 6:30pm. And they still got up at 5:30!

What does this have to do with dogs, you say? Well, Ella came into our room at what I think was 4:15am and was starving -having not eaten her dinner last night- so we went downstairs to have some Cap'n Crunch. Afraid that Daisy, left in the bed with only Daddy to respond to her potty cues, would make a Dealbreaker mistake I took her downstairs with us. She barely woke up as I picked her up, was completely disgruntled when I took her outside to potty in the rain and now looks annoyed that I am not feeding her ahead of schedule. She also abandoned my lap for her bed in the kitchen.

You know you are up early when you put your 13 week old puppy off!

Did you know...?

The phrase it's "raining cats and dogs" originated in the 17th century when it was believed that many dogs and cats drowned in periods of heavy rain.

(I didn't cross reference this so I may have to amend it later.)

Did you know...?

Three dogs survived the sinking of the Titanic -a Newfoundland, a Pomeranian and a Pekenese.

I could see the Newfie making a go of it as a swimmer but who put that big, honking dog in a boat?!

Who knew? I didn't!

Why Puppies are like Celebrity Deaths...

I'm apologizing to the next set of victims in advance. It seems that puppy acquisition is akin to celebrity deaths: they come in threes.

Puppy acquisition #1: Aunt Marilyn was surprised by Uncle Dave with a Yorkie pup

Puppy acquisition #2: I found our darling Daisy via Facebook

Puppy acquisition #3: My Aunt Laine found a Labradoodle for her family at the pound

As a result of this apparently inevitable trifecta of pups, I will be no doubt posting lots of fun stories about all three dogs. God help all of us!

Hurry up, would ya?! Puppy Potty Training 101

Of all the cool tricks my past dogs have done, none impressed young kids more than the Hurry Up command. I've had dogs that could sit up and beg, run madly in circles around my legs, open mailboxes and retrieve the contents but nothing, NOTHING impresses kids like having a dog poop and pee on command.

Most people are content with a dog being mostly house trained (having the occasional indoor accident). Professional working dogs must "finish up" before entering competitions or a client's home. Buster and Buffy both worked as demonstration dogs for my training school both on and off the kennel campus and the last impression you want to make on a potential client is a lifted leg in their living room or a huge Rottweiler-sized dump in their front yard. Also, you can be DQed in competition for an on-field elimination. As some competitions have hefty entrance fees you would be remiss to let your dog piss a few hundred bucks away. In addition, you will take a good amount of ribbing from your fellow competitors who will have trouble concealing their glee that your awesome female Rottweiler -who kicked their Dobie's ass in the the last season of French Ring- will not be able to compete in the day's bite work. Not that I know this from experience or anything! Hence, for serious dog folk we came up with the Hurry Up command. Named more for the comfort of human handlers' psychology when standing in below freezing weather, the command is simply to go Number One and Number Two. Outside.

"How do you teach such a fascinating and amazing command, O Dog Trainer?" you ask.

Unfortunately for this command there is no short cut. Diligence and determination on the handler's part is required. You must take your puppy out time and time again on a schedule that is appropriate for their age. Go to the same spot every time. Root yourself like a tree holding a 5-6' leash (your dog WILL be able to find an appropriate place to leave his leavings in 12' circle regardless of his size). Say, Hurry Up like a mantra. Say NOTHING else: no names, no curse words, no complaining about the weather or the time. Remain calm even if it is raining, snowing or the wind is at 50 mph. Your dog does and will pick up on your tension, tense up himself and... well, nothing will get moving if you catch my drift. When your dog starts to go (and he will; just be patient), ever so softly say, "Hurry Up, that's it." Praise gently when he is done with Part One; lavishly when he is done with Part Two.

Come rain or shine your dog will have to eliminate so keep making those trips to the curb. Your dog will get it eventually. Repetition, successful potty-ing outside and comprehensive praise go a long way with any dog.

As your dog gets better at this, extend the time between trips to the curb to encourage him to "hold it." Until then, keep the dog on a leash and near you indoors. Now, the leash is not a magic poop-suppressor; it just serves to keep the dog close enough that you can catch him eliminating in the house and correct that dog awful behavior. How do you correct it, you say? Stamp on the floor (again keep the intensity level appropriate for the dog's disposition) and say No. This should interrupt the dog, cause him to tense up and stop the flow and buy you enough time to get him outside and command Hurry Up.

Mistakes in the house are training opportunities, not natural disasters, so try to be as kind and patient as possible. With a bit of scheduling and consistency you CAN train your dog to "go" on command but they will make some mistakes. In fact while I was writing this, Daisy pooped by the back door and I missed it (Sheesh! She pooped twice already this morning! How much poop can this 4 and a half pound puppy make?!). Since I missed the act, there is no correction as dogs live completely in The Now.

Ah, well! Nobody's perfect. And she will poop again.

Good luck and good training to all you out there!

Take a Bow, Daisy!

She also does THIS!

Postscript: as I was posting this my son pulled "Freak Like Me: Inside the Jim Rose Circus Sideshow" off the bookcase. Perhaps we should be working our circus skills now! I can take a hint!

Sit! Down! Stand! Good Girl!

Well, Daisy's training has officially begun. Not that I was slacking during her first week in the house or anything. I'm close to having completely reconciled my Big Dog Ownership Skills to my Circus Dog Ownership Skills. From earlier posts, you all know that our Daisy is quite adept at sleeping on the couch as well as in the bed. Her skills of manipulating cranky Scottish men are unparalleled and her cat-like agility is... well, supremely cat-like. In general, she is a darling 4 pound, 9 ounce pet and as my daughter said, "She clicked right into our family."


At twelve weeks she is formally learning SIT, DOWN, STAND in sequence. Puppies are taught these three commands in sequence with bait (ie. stinky food; I use BilJac liver treats) to train not only the brain but the muscles. Retention of formal, spoken commands at 12 weeks is somewhat still limited but developing. Hand signal are introduced by hiding the bait in your command hand. Capitalizing on a pup's ceaseless appetite and keeping the sessions short and fun for the pup are a great foundation for a good cooperative relationship with your dog. This is true for big dogs too. They benefit greatly from happy training sessions in the formative months and often one can avoid behavioral problems if positive, friendly handling is first employed.

Kids can also be introduced to the training, though this is subjective to age and ability (of the kid, not the dog!). My daughter has a tendency to give Daisy the whole treat after one sit rather than have her work all three commands because "She's SO hungry!" Just so you know, ALL puppies are hungry ALL the time; but that is why bait training works so well in the early months. Younger children can be employed as distraction. You can see Angus is doing his best to play with Daisy in the above picture yet she is still holding her commands.

As you pup gets more and more proficient at the commands you can extend the time of the command held. Not to brag but Daisy's up to a five second sit and just did a single five second down and stay.

One final note on this, training makes dogs TIRED. Most of you with pups have experienced the Frenetic Puppy Behavior (I will post a separate article for this alone) that is completely normal for young dogs. If you can map the Frenetic Periods during the day (most pups have two to four a day) you can start the training just before and capitalize on the explosion of energy.

Deconstruction of a Dog Trainer

Today I will be giving Alan his first formal lesson in puppy training. Daisy has been with us for six days so far. Ordinarily I would have instructed the whole family in puppy basics on day one or two. The size thing is really throwing my training sensibilities for a loop.

Please don't misunderstand me and think I'm am untried with the "mini-minis." I have trained oodles of small breeds. In fact, the smartest dog I was ever hired to train was a toy poodle named Midnight that finished an in-kennel, three-week, off-lead training program in 8 days. I've always loved training Pugs for their sheer enthusiasm and I can't count the number of Maltese headcases I've had to redirect. The list goes on. However, I always said the small breed owners are usually less persistent, consistent and demanding of their small breeds as they can simply pick them up to cease annoying or unwanted behavior.

Somehow I have become one of these less-than-demanding, complacent owners. Despite all my education. Despite every lesson I have given to the contrary of my current behavior. Despite the fact that I know I could potentially create a monster-diva that will rule the house with iron (if not supremely delicately sized) paws. In these pre-dawn hours I am ashamed to call myself a trainer and am tempted to turn in my Trainers' certificate to National K-9 and submit myself for retraining.

I find myself quite torn and my inner dialog is running like a really poorly defended Lincoln-Douglas debate.

(Daisy must NOT pull on Ella's hair as it will set her up for other negative chewing habits)
(But she is so cute! Besides Ella doesn't seem to mind and is laughing)
(Daisy will progress to chewing clothes and possibly biting if it is not stopped now. You could face a lifetime of poor habits)
(But she is so cute! Besides she's only 12 weeks old! We have plenty of time!)
(Daisy is not learning to respect NO. You must train her to respect NO and your commands!)
(But she is so cute! And she's just a puppy and having fun. And how much damage could she do? Her mouth is so little! And she's so cute!)
Etc. and so on.

You see how this is going. I would never, NEVER accept or make excuses for a Rottie, Shepard other larger pup pulling on my four year old's hair. If Daisy were a Rottweiler, she would have been treated to at least of half an hour of structured puppy-play and command training. I have to remind myself that I got Buffy, our last Rottie, when she was 5 months old and I cracked down on her immediately. She was required to sit and stay at the door and only enter or exit after her handler did and commanded her to pass through the threshold. She was required to sit and stay for her food. She was doing 5 minute down commands on the leash. Daisy, at three months old, is extremely proficient at sleeping in my lap, burrowing around our feet in bed and standing on the couch cushions cat-style. I think that because small breeds are sooooo small we trainers qualify the dog as younger and less capable. At least when they are our own and the last dog we can reference was over 60 lbs!

So in response to my own Sucker Behavior I will put on my trainer's hat and gloves and get to work today. Alan doesn't so much need the lesson as much as I need to remind myself of what I am capable of and that size really doesn't matter when it comes to the dog. This little four pounder cutie-pie can certainly do what my Rotties all did.

OK, at the very least I can teach her to hop up in my lap for a cuddle!!!

Would you rather...?

I've been getting up at 5 am. Now, I'm sure most of you think that this is due to Daisy being 12 weeks old. Indirectly, yes. You see, my darling daughter simply cannot bear to wake up and not check on her puppy.

So we are up at 5, having some coffee and watching the end of Sesame Street (who knew it was on at 5?). The question is: would you rather have your kid or your dog wake you up?

Now that I have had a cup of coffee I'd say either. Life is good even before dawn.

Mr. "That's Not My Dog" has left the building!

I was informed this morning that Daisy is Daddy's Dog.

Mission accomplished! Thanks to all the Accomplices!

Dogs and cats... living together! Mass hysteria! (Not so much)

Alan thought that a house dog was a bad idea as we have Pepper. Pepper is a cat. A not very nice cat. She barely tolerates my presence in the house and I often refer to her as Al's first wife. She is not cuddly with anyone but Al and often she gets "pissy" with him. She will swat at you as you walk by. She has scratched and hissed at both of my children on numerous occasions. She hates my mother as well (to be fair my mom really doesn't care for cats either and has shooed her unceremoniously off the counter where we keep her food dish so our son Angus doesn't eat too much cat food). If tempestuous would be a kindly, accurate description of her, bipolar would be the unvarnished truth.

When Daisy arrived Alan initially declared her "not [his] dog" but after a few minutes he put the onus on Pepper. "If Peppi doesn't like her, the dog goes." My response was that Pepper hates everyone! Not a fair test at all. Accomplice #1 agreed with me. I told Al that Pepper would probably swat at Daisy a few times and the relationship should evolve at its own pace. He wanted me to put the puppy on the bed with Pepper (Bad Idea #1). This would have been the short path to Daisy's return to South River and I refused. Daisy had already been around cats and proved she was stable and not too interested in messing with the Clawed Ones.

Long story short: Pepper LOVES Daisy. The Cat Who Hates All has made a friend. Let's hope it lasts!

I didn't see this one coming.

Funny. She doesn't look like a Rottweiler

So my new dog is NOT a Rottweiler. So what? You wanna fight about it?

I have made the jump to toy dog owner rather rapidly and I'm pretty sure I know why I haven't had toy breeds before.

I'm a HUGE sucker.

With the big dogs, you don't worry so much that they are cold or hungry (anyone who has had a Rottweiler knows they are hungry all the time! They were Roman dogs of war after all so they really are Italian IMHO). Yesterday, I bought a sweater for Daisy. A SWEATER!!! I was so embarrassed that I kept laughing. I took my son for his morning 5 mile run/walk at the Long Branch promenade and Daisy came along. I think she walked a total of 30 feet the entire time. I had put a soft blanket in the under-basket and she rode most of the time with her head out looking at the ocean. She barked a HUGE blue pitbull and I found myself nearly sprinting away, terrified she would be bitten, hurt, mauled by this massive dog. (OK, who am I? I own a dog BIGGER that that one?)

Oh! and my dog training judgment has been altered as well. Daisy barked the crate her first night. So I went and got her (while barking, Training Mistake #1) and brought her into bed with me and Al (Training Mistake #2).


Since my whole tough, RottenGirl image has been shattered I'm considering getting a fancy dog purse. To match my steel-toed Dr. Martin's!

Christmas came early... without a crisis councilor!

Well, I did it. I got a puppy. This is not -so much- an out-of-this-world kind of thing for me. In fact, for the last 28 years I have only been without any sort of dog for 6 days back in 2000 when I lost Bandit, my smallest Rottweiler, to cancer in Los Angeles. We still have Dopey Lopey but as I have blogged earlier, he is not really a "performance" dog.

I found myself looking casually (and secretly) on petfinder.com. I asked the Chief Buddy Amato of our own NJ animal cops (an unbelievably great guy if you don't know him of haven't seen him in the Asbury Park Press) for a recomendation letter in the event that I found THE DOG FOR US at one of the shelters or through one of the bazillion rescues in the North East. I glanced at the classifieds a number of times. Not really seeing THE DOG FOR US, I told my friend Christine that the right dog would find us and that I was committed to find a Family-Type dog. My Proposed Pet Requirement List began to read like the "Hurry, Nanny" song in Mary Poppins:

Small young dog required. Must like kids, cats, be thoroughly house trained and like-able. Must be calm, cute and smart.

Note: this description is a serious departure from my past dogs, all of which were over 60 lbs.


Now, I never expected to find love on Facebook. About a week ago, my friend Alicia posted a message about a female, toy poodle mix that needed and immediate home. Well, I thought, Ella has been asking about getting a "french poodle" so it wouldn't hurt to ask. After some back and forth about the puppy and the foster mom Lori (who I had gone to school with but had not yet friended on Facebook) I got to see the puppy. All puppies are cute and looking at her was the clincher. I got on the phone with Lori and made arrangement to "meet" the puppy. She told me her name was Daisy. My aunt lost a mini poodle not long ago named Daisy. Hmm, odd coincidence. I called Lori back the next day and told her that I may just want to take the puppy home if I really liked her and asked would that be ok?

Note: at the this point I have NOT consulted anyone in my family.

I enlisted Accomplice Agent #1 to take the ride with me and had Accomplice Agents #s 2,3,4 and 5 on standby for the expected explosions back at home. Under the guise of shopping, we got the Canine Contraband and raced back home to present Al with his new dog. You see, as with Lopey, I don't do Trial Periods with dogs. Once you claim them, you keep them. Lopey was picked when he was born into my hands. Daisy was mine as soon as I saw Alicia's post.

Al's first response? "That's not my dog."

Well, Al fancies himself a bit tougher than he actually is. In the last 48 hours I have been accused of "hogging the dog," attempting to make her mine and mine alone (apparently by training her) and not being a puppy sharer among other things. When I hand her over to him, he just melts and lets her kiss his face and talks to her in the high squeaky voice. Last night, he played poker on the internet and apparently Daisy was helping... by standing in his lap and blocking the screen with her little skinny body.

So no councilor was involved. The police were not called. No locks were changed. But I DID have to agree to a Vegas (or other debouched location) trip with his brother when he comes to visit this winter.

I think I can suck it up. Daisy is really, really cute!