Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Daisy's First Christmas

"Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all, from Daisy the Dog!"



Okay. I have been neglecting this blog with all the holiday hullabaloo but I had gingerbread houses to build and Buche de Noels to roll... and eat. Daisy ate A LOT of stuff that hit the floor while I was baking.


Believe it or not, Daisy was NOT the first one up...



But she was pretty eager to get downstairs!




She wasn't sure what to make out of the shiny paper.


Then Pepper showed her how to chew on the ribbons!



Daisy got not one but TWO pet Snuggies, one from Ella and one from Grandma. She pulled both off within seconds!
Pepper apparently did NOT get what she asked for.



All in all it was a fun, exhausting day! And Santa was good to little Daisy!

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Joe, Anna, Bella... Rocks! Oh, and Merry!

I just had a number of conversations with my old business partner Joe Rocks about a dog and had quite a great time teasing him. You see, Joe saved my business and I owe him a debt of gratitude that I am hard pressed to truly express. I had just hired Joe as an assistant when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter. I gave him the choice to either run for the door or stick it out and see what happened. Joe, a recent grad from Rutgers, magically happened to be a phenomenal dog trainer and increased our business by nearly 400%. I made him a partner very quickly and he royally kicked ass!

One of the interesting things that happened during his tenure with me was that he found his dog Bella. It is just one of the many occurrences of a dog finding its owner and the story deserves telling.

For some time I had been donating training to a local rescue group and developed a nice rapport with one of their agents, Robin. She had a shipment of pups coming up from the southern states from "kill shelters" but had found homes for all of the puppies. Upon their arrival, she discovered that there was something wrong with one of the pups and was not sure if placement with the intended family would be a good match. She asked if Joe and I would take a look at her and make a call as to the dog's stability. We invited her to bring the pup to the kennel and were greeted by a drooling, neurotic mess. She was a young, black flat coated retriever mix with a huge ass. Sorry, but she really did have a big ass. We put her up in a kennel run and she retreated to the corner, face first and head down. She utterly refused to give any eye contact or even acknowledge human or canine presence. I warned Joe that she didn't look good and that the only other times I had seen dogs behave in such a manner was when they were brain damaged. I gently told him to not get attached and that we may have to tell Robin that she would not be suitable for placement. You see, brain damaged dogs are not predictable and often uncontrollable and should not be placed in a home that can not 100% guarantee civic safety. It's a very hard match and most times it is better to put the dog down than risk liability.

She was really pretty though and I am a sucker for a pretty dog. After throwing a bazillion treats into the kennel I told Joe the we were going to use a bit of brawn: we would force her to come out and assess the damage. We both geared up for being bit up, locked down the training room and I went in and leashed her up. The pup wouldn't walk, wouldn't look up, wouldn't take food. Not the types to give up, Joe and I gave her the best 10 minutes of our careers and then put her up in the kennel again. I called Robin and asked for a few more days with the puppy to see if we could bring her around.

She never snapped at us. Her disposition couldn't be measured; she was just in sheer terror. After a few more phone calls, Robin found out the pup had been born at the shelter in Georgia. Her mother was brought in probably as a stray and was pregnant. The shelter had been really overcrowded -hence the large number of pups they had sent to Robin's rescue- and the conclusion we collectively drew was that the pup had had very little human contact. It was surprising that she wasn't interacting with the other dogs at our kennel. We even tried to put her up near my Rottweiler Buster, who was just a big mushy boy and loved everybody and every dog.

Joe's birthday was a few days away. Robin told us that they had called the dog Bella after me (yikes!) so we started to call her Bella.

Now, you know something is up when your partner beats you into work everyday, by-passes the dogs we were being paid to train and is making googly eyes at the strange black dog from Georgia that may not be suitable for ownership. Joe was in love.

I called it from the third day we had Bella with us and I told Joe so. "That is your dog, dude! You know it," I said to him.

"No, no, no! I've got Jake [an Australian shepherd so hopped up on life it was hard to tell the back end from the front and all you can see is a blur of blue merle and flashes of white] and he's plenty! I've got a lot of work to do on him," he kept saying.

"I know," I told him pointing at Bella cowering in her kennel run. "But THAT is your new dog... sucka! You LOVE her."

"No. No, I don't," he said to me curtly as he pretended to storm out of the training room... with Bella in tow!

Joe took possession of Bella on his birthday and gladly paid the fee (an excessive fee in my opinion but the director of the rescue demanded that Robin tell us she wanted us to PAY for the pup despite the fact the we had boarded, bathed and trained the dog for several days at our own expense; some rescues just don't "get it"). For the next few weeks, she blossomed, still puked in the car and got a bit nervous when new things happened but she became a little lady.

Fast forward to today... Bella lives in great comfort and luxury with Joe in Buffalo, NY. She goes to an island dog park a few times a week and Joe often expresses concern for her time spent alone. He is afraid she is a bit lonely at his grad school apartment after living with him at his folk's place where dogs and awesome people are abundant and cheerful. Bella wakes Joe up by slapping his face... and he loves it. I guess Joe is a sucker too; I taught him a bit too well.

Bella came a long way from the scared pup we first met. She now chases squirrels with a vengeance and occasionally tries to go on wilderness adventures when they visit Joe's folks on their 20 acres in Upstate NY. She bosses other dogs around and has found her "inner wolf" expressing such with the wildest barkety-bark you have ever heard. She is just fine now and has a great life with Joe. I'm so pleased that they found each other, but I am a bit jealous 'cause Bella turned out to be a really cool chick-dog. Frankly, I would have wanted her for myself had I not had the two big Rotties and silly bullydog I had at the time. She reminds me of the really cool dogs you would meet at Grateful Dead shows that just tra-la-la-ed around the parking lot for a day or so until it was time to pack up and head to the next show. She's just a really cool nature girl. And she's really pretty. But she does have a huge ass.

Joe called me last week to tell me that his girlfriend Anna had found a Pit bull mix in the parking lot at her work. The parking lot apparently was an unlikely location for a dog dump as it is a secured lot but it is close to some sketchy neighborhoods. We dog-types always get a bit nervous when you find a bully-type near sketchy areas. Micheal Vick was NOT an unusual occurrence with Pit owners unfortunately. You always get a bit worried about who is taking the dog back and what exactly they are going to do with it. Joe and Anna determined that the dog was well cared for, in heat, probably lost and made great efforts to find her owner. Joe called to me get some input. The best I could do was ask him if he was going to name the dog Merry, Holly or Noel.

"Oh, no! We're calling her Girl. If I name her I'm gonna wind up keeping her. Anna's got a dog. I've got Bella. I DON'T need another dog."

This arguement sounded very familiar to me.

"Okay, dude," I said calmly, "Give Merry a pat for me and keep me posted."

"That's not funny," he snickered and hung up on me.

I was pretty sure Joe was keeping that dog, but it turned out she was a runaway from a nice family who cried when they were reunited. Joe and Anna did a great thing by keeping her safe and helping her get home. They even took her to the vet to get a rabies booster "just in case." I'm usually pretty bang-on about these "love matches" and frankly I was surprised the Joe and Anna didn't get a new dog named Merry/Holly/Noel for Christmas. There's still two weeks until Christmas. Maybe I can find them and unhousebroken, unneutered male Mastif with bad gas and a salivary problem and get it wrapped up for them. They could call him Stinky. Knowing Joe, he would make the best out of it and probably rename the dog Lemonade!

I really look forward to a life full of these updates and weird dog exchanges with Joe and his budding family. He is a great guy, a truly gifted dog trainer (though he's going to be an engineer! Hrumph!) and a good friend. I hope he's not too mad that I took the piss out of him a bit on the blog but I know he's following this blog and I just can't resist!

Sorry, Joe Rocks! You can let me have it about my ultra-mini breed Daisy any time you want. Oh, and Ella bought her a pet Snuggie for Christmas.

Oh, YOU shut up!

LOL

Where Am I? Oh, Yeah! Sweeping Up Glass!

Oh, so I've been missing this blog. I have been knee-deep in broken glass, both Christmas and secular. Not only has the broken balls count risen, but for some reason I have been really spazzy with any type of glass I touch.

My own personal count is as follows:

1 gold glass Christmas ball

2 tall, iced tea glasses (the last of the set to my dismay)

3 (yes, three!) pint glasses (again, the last of the set. WTF?)

1 clear wine glass

1 heavy duty blue gobblet

1 Stella Artois bottle, full (this was fun cleaning up and I nearly had to call my in-college cousins for a Helpful Hint as I didn't want to get my broom and dust pan soaked with beer; in the end I just washed said broom and dust pan)

So as you can see I have been busy cleaning up glass objects and not busy training Daisy. In fact, Alan taught her to play fetch last week. (I suck as a dog trainer right now!) I did, however, nearly fall over at 6 am this morning while trying to put on Daisy's leash and nearly broke the sliding glass doors. Actually, I think it was Christmas Miracle #2 that I didn't break them as I hit pretty hard and scared the dog.

More to come as I mellow out from the Holiday Hulabaloo!!!

Saturday, December 5, 2009

I've got glass balls! Oh, I've got glass balls! They're such big balls! Fancy, big balls! (now let's see if they stay on the tree)

Please enjoy the 5:30 am photo of my partially decorated tree.

When I was pregnant with my first baby and worried about the pain of labor, all the mothers I knew told me, "Don't worry about the pain. You forget about it as soon as the baby is out." Not very encouraging advice might I add, but I guess to a certain extent it is true although my own deliveries were fast, uncomplicated and epidural-assisted experiences.

Apparently this phenomenon also effects puppy ownership and your choice of Christmas tree decorations.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I vaguely remembered having a few Christmas trees with decorations on only the top third of the tree. I can't recall the last time a poinsettia has graced my home (and I LOVE them!). Yes, children and pets do alter your life a bit and I had forgotten how much Christmas needed to be modified in order to be safe for all.

In addition to this, or rather, to add insult to injury, Daisy is going through a foundation developmental phase. Rearranging furniture, changing feeding times and anticipated regularities can disrupt the pup. I have rearranged the furniture and have recently switched Daisy to a two-time-a-day feeding. I feel like the plumber with a running toilet. Don't get me wrong! There was no way I was going to omit the Christmas tree for the sake of Daisy's comfort (trust me; she won't need canine therapy because I moved furniture and put up a lighted tree). But I have gone rather far a-field of my own teachings (and preachings).

I set up the tree slowly to let all biological organisms in my house adjust. Last night, Friday Family Movie and Pizza Night, we put up the bead garland and started on the glass balls (Alan calls them "bulbs" confusing all the children). It proved to be a bit too much for everyone. Ever try to untangle 72' of silver beads and get them on the tree without the children and puppy grabbing and running with them? Not the easiest thing I have ever done, I assure you. The fake tree was endangered. I was endangered of being killed by the fake tree! It is just the first of the Ward-Walker Family 2009 Christmas Miracles that the tree did NOT get knocked over. Daisy peed on my non-washable tree skirt. Ella broke two glass balls insisting that she was a Big Girl and could hang the glass ornaments. Angus re-decorated with the silver and red bead garlands... by pulling them off the tree, entangling them and throwing them back into the branches. I tried to keep as best a sense of humor as possible. It's not about the ornaments, I told the kids and puppy, I just don't want you to get cut by glass. I could give a crap about the dozen and a half glass balls from Target for $2.50; I've got boxes of them.

So my mantra the holiday season is "That [insert object here] is just not as important as you." I think it's a good one for this year. It's either that or "Get me another Bailey's please." We'll see how the holiday progresses.

Until then, the house count is:

Ella: two glass balls

Angus: no actual destruction yet

Daisy: peed on tree skirt; gnawed one gold, plastic snowflake; also gnawed a Burger King Madame Alexander Wizard from the Wizard of Oz doll

Not a bad count so far, but it's only day 5 of the 25 days of Christmas.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

The Puppy Social Rebellion of 2009 and the War of Pee and Poop

Potty training is NOT going well for Daisy. Unfortunately, this is to be expected. Extra unfortunately, my kids and husband are stressed out and acting out as well. Extra-extra unfortunately, I have a localized infection and just want to go have an undisturbed sleep in my car. Sigh. This, too, will pass.

Daisy has been with us just about 1 month now and she is 4 months old. Developmentally she is throwing all sorts of challenges at us but I would like to diverge and talk about what she is throwing at us supernaturally.

OK, don't get freaked out and click off! I'm not going to say my dog talks to me or starts barking 10 minutes before our friends arrive. Dog trainers talk about the Rule of Threes and they vary from trainer to trainer. My own Rule of Threes is as follows:

1. it will take a new dog or pup three days to accept and settle into a new environment

2. it will take a new dog or pup three weeks to learn and challenge/test the rules of a new environment

3. it will take a new dog or pup three months to accept his or her lot in the new environment (pack role, adherence to rules, etc)

Do the math. Daisy is at stage 2, or as we are calling it DEFCON 2. She no longer feels the need to go to the bathroom outside (thank you, makers of the Flexi-lead and associated persons!) and will literally pee at your feet after you stand outside in the rain for 20 minutes.

She is also trying to free herself from the Oppressive Leash. She has figured out that when the leash is off she can have more exciting and self-fulfilling adventures around the house. So she has taken to spinning. Spinning. Spinning. Bright little thing that she is, she tangles herself up in the lead next to me then looks up and squeaks. The first few times I fell sucker as I was working on the computer and untangled her. The loops were surprisingly loose. After bending over a number of times for Miss Puppy (pardon the pun, but it was intended), I realized that she knew, she knew I was detaching the lead to untangle her. She was "checking the fence for weaknesses" ala Jurassic Park.

She is continuing to hump, to hump, to hump her lovely puppy hump, but is being corrected for it so the occurrences are slowing down.

She is testing the rules in this house. Now the Rule of Threes is not technically science; that is why I refer to it as supernatural. Some trainers and behaviorists would argue that the timing is different but as the saying goes: the only thing two dog trainers will agree upon is that the other one is wrong. Nonetheless, there is a social rebellion that takes place with teenage pups in human households and our household is at the dawn of it. Daisy is not styling herself after Che or Lenin though. She may be more of a Stalin-type but we'll see. I'm not so sure she's looking for the Greater Good for the house and may be seeking better accommodations and privileges for herself and self alone! The trick is we humans have to squash the rebellion without alienating the rebels.

Developmentally, Daisy is at a crossroads. Between 4 and 5 months, within a purely canine pack structure pups are leaving puppyhood and entering adolescence. Correction, by other dogs, becomes much more severe. Silliness and frivolity of play is not tolerated as much. Remember: in the "wilds" whether they are in the backwoods of Southern US or the great forests of Russia, keen senses, observation and decisiveness are the main reasons for survival. Consider the seriousness of a wolf portrait versus your own silly lab mugging for a family picture. In this sense, perhaps we humans have allowed dogs to evolve a sense of humor through our domestication ("protection") of them.

Daisy, however, is still "our baby" being so cute and so small. Part of her testing involves nibbling at Angus's bare feet whenever she can. Angus loves on Daisy probably the most out of all of us. Whenever he can he will put his head on her gently and say, "Ohhhhhh, Daisy!" He also pets her everytime his passes her. Dominant dogs are not physically demonstrative with their love. It is the submissive dog that will do all the touching, nuzzling and rubbing. The Last of the Great Rottweilers, Buster and Buffy had a great show of this. Buster, being the submissive dog, would lick Buffy's ears routinely. Buffy would sit like the queen she was and let him so his service. I never once had to clean her ears until after Buster died. Thus, Daisy's seemingly playful nibbling is actually a power-play in response to Angus's human affection for her. She is challenging the pack order that Alan and I have established. Fortunately, she is not a rotten, mean-spirited dog that will continue to challenge her assigned role in an increasingly aggressive manner.

Her physical development is contributing to the unstable potty training as well. Pups are still developing nerve sensitivity through the first year. They are simply not equiped to feel the urgency to "go" at times. Also, their bodies grow oddly at times. For example, Daisy's tail seems just a bit too long for her body and even she is annoyed with its intrusiveness and has begun chasing it. Often, some organs grow faster than the cavity and they will press on the bladder or bowel tract causing the feeling of having to "go" or something will move and they instantly HAVE TO "GO." Either way, pups deserve a bit of understanding in this department. Calm guidence, whispered cursing as you stand in the rain and wind for the 47th time that night and proper correction for potty-ing failures are your only weapons in the War of Pee and Poop.

Alan recently suggested, in disgust with the number of accidents Daisy has had, that we paper train her. My mother had box trained her Westie so they could bring him on their boat and it really is a great idea. I had several clients that had "grass boxes" on their high-rise terraces and we effectively trained small and medium sized dogs to eliminate in these designated areas. I do not, however, want to give Daisy at this point of her development the idea that it is OK to go in the house at all. We have Pepper's litter box already and frankly I just don't have the space for another box for my darling Daisy. Besides, she CAN and will go outside.

Again, I must stress the house training is really a mark of the handler's diligence and determination. Accidents will happen but they are always, ALWAYS training opportunities, not a cause for yelling, screaming or chaos. I have corrected Daisy indoors a number of times and she will hold whatever is coming out of her when you tap the floor and say No. She is extremely responsive to correction and will return to her duty (again, pardon the pun) after a cooling down period outdoors.

No dog can be fully house trained at 4 months just as no child can be potty trained by 18 months old. The indication of successful house training is gaged by the dog indicating that he or she prefers to go outside just as potty training for children is gaged by independant use of the potty. I expect Daisy to be still on a schedule and a short leash (ok that's the last pun for today) for some time. The youngest dog I ever witnessed showing true, effective means of going to the curb independantly was an 8 month old labrador that had a doggie door and an older sheepdog who was showing him the ropes. He would go out without his sheepdog buddy when he had to "go." Don't get me wrong. Other dogs have shown behaviors that indicate some house training effectiveness but most times it is inconsistant. Daisy will cry sometimes to go out. But not always and a lot of the time we find Mystery Puddles that have long gone cold.

Still, she is a good dog and is becoming a bitch... I mean that in the most affectionate way! (I couldn't help one more pun) She will soon be heading into her first Heat Cycle as well as her second significant Fear Imprint period (the first was at 12 weeks). I will be discussing both here in time.

Until then, good luck and good training to you all!!!

(I am NOT proof reading this so please disregard all spelling and grammar errors and don't presume I am an illiterate twit if you find some. Thank you.)

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

How Many Shamwows Does One Puppy Owner Need?

Alan and I tend to disagree on many subjects. I won't go into the rather long list of dissimilar concepts and preferences. The basic principles of dog training was recently added.

I have a large, hockey-style training bag that I would bring to home appointments that had every imaginable size and type of lead, collars to fit most occasions, Kong toys, chew toys, penny cans, clickers and all manner of items adapted to dog training. Three of the items I have in this bag are retractable leads. The name brand is Flexi-Lead. These leashes are great... once your dog is trained to behave on a lead and responsive to commands as well as the discipline word No.

Alan, not to be outdone by my own sweater shopping for Daisy, recently purchased a 16' Flexi-lead for our little Daisy. As he opened the package I told him it was not a good idea to use it yet. "Why not? Look how much room she'll have to 'go' when we take her out!"

That is precisely the problem. The further away your dog can get from you, the more independent decision making they attempt. A four month old puppy should not be making ANY decisions on her own. It would be akin to asking my four year old for directions to the mall. Puppies -to be sure pre-dogs- thrive and work cooperatively with humans when consistently led and directed by humans. Keeping them on a short leash makes a huge difference in responsiveness and behavior.

If you recall, I potty train pups to "go" on a Hurry Up command. Well, as a result of the introduction of the Flexi-lead, Daisy now chooses to tra-la-la outside rather than "do her business." A number of times I have brought her back inside only to have her leave a puddle right at my feet. Sigh!

This too shall pass. If you are training your own puppy along with this blog please keep in mind that nerve sensitivty is still developing in pups through the first year and that they are still learning to recognize the physical pangs of potty urgency. The trick is to catch them in the act of potty-ing inappropriately. This is so crucial to successful house training it can not be overstated.

Until then, good luck and good training... and be sure to have a lot of Shamwows on hand!