Monday, August 30, 2010

Comments appreciated, responses stalled.

I can't seem to respond to comments anymore. I was able to a couple of weeks back and now it's acting like I'm not logged in when I am. Peculiar.

Until I figure this out just know that you're not being ignored.

Here, have a picture of a pretty red lady Pit:
Red Dog

Last friday I went to Riverside Park without the dogs (I know, I know--that was pretty mean of me!). 3/5 of the dogs visiting the park that day were Pit Bulls. Incidentally, they were the most outgoing and well behaved dogs I saw at the park. Even when children were hanging from their ears.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The difference between play and fight

Dog fight! Or is it?
Dog fight! Or is it?

 Sometimes it's hard to tell a play fight from a real fight. In what could have been a simple misunderstanding of dog behavior and difference in play styles, a dog named Bear-Bear lost his life. From HometownAnnapolis.com:

"Shepherd claimed he shot Bear-Bear because the animal was attacking his German shepherd, Asia, and he feared for the safety of himself, his wife and his dog. The man who was watching Bear-Bear at the park, Stephen Kurinij, claimed the officer overreacted and that the two dogs were just playing."

Intense play We may never know whether Bear-Bear and Asia's play had turned into something more serious or if the officer was just unfamiliar with Bear-Bear's play style. But one thing is clear: Someone at the dog park that day was ignorant of canine behavior.

 Thankfully, most misunderstandings of this nature don't involve such a tragic ending. But misunderstandings are surprisingly common considering an estimated 39% of U.S. homes have at least one dog (approximately 77.5 million owned dogs).* Many Americans grow up with or around dogs yet we struggle to understand them.

 Most of my neighbors have dogs--and the majority of them have two or more--yet I have had people shoot worried glances at my dogs as they wrestle in the backyard. Online I have received concerned comments over photos of my dogs at play. At the dog park it can be worse with people labeling dogs as aggressive and shaming owners for their dog's perfectly normal behavior. Sometimes things even turn physical. Once a lady grabbed my puppy by the throat and screamed in his face because he was play growling.

Dexter and Lele  So how do you know when it's all in good fun or something scary? It takes equal parts of reading dog body language and knowing your dog. It also helps to be able to tell the difference between various vocalizations.

 There are websites, books and videos available at various sources that can explain canine body language. Take what you learn from these sources and apply it at home with your own dogs. Watch them and practice reading them. You can take this on the road and visit places where dogs are--places like dog parks, pet stores, vet clinics and training classes--and practice there, too. What are the dogs' bodies telling you?

Fig looks scary, but Dex isn't worried  And for those of us who share our lives with dogs that prefer rough play styles: We need to know our dogs and stand up for them. A play growl is not the same as a serious growl. Our dogs are not dangerous just because their play style appears aggressive. Don't let ignorant people threaten, scare or shame you or your dog.

 Also, please do be aware that not all dogs like your dog's rough play style. Supervise your dog and know when to separate dogs or enforce breaks in play.

*Source: http://www.humanesociety.org/issues/pet_overpopulation/facts/pet_ownership_statistics.html 

Monday, August 23, 2010

Peace and puppies

Picture, if you will, the following: It's early Saturday morning. Quiet. Peaceful. (Yet still way too damn early to be awake, but I'm not about to argue with a dog's bladder.) In our little backyard--a slice of heaven reserved for us--Fig romps with a visiting 7-week-old black Labrador Retriever puppy. The play breaks up for a brief rest. Puppy is getting tired. He's very young so his bursts of energy last an hour before he needs a forty-minute nap.

Puppy plops his tiny puppy bottom down in a shaded spot for a breather. A strange scream is heard. High-pitched, almost wailing. It sounds muffled, yet still loud enough to disrupt our peaceful Saturday morning. Puppy looks startled. Fig hears the noise and rushes at puppy. Puppy looks confused. Fig shoves puppy out of the way and throws herself down on the spot puppy had occupied. The screaming grows louder and, if possible, frantic.

By the time I made it across the yard to investigate Fig had a giant cicada sticking out of her mouth. She was gritting her teeth with a determined look on her face.

So wee puppy had sat on a cicada, who had screamed in protest, and ended up locked in the jaws of an angry Fig.

CicadaAnd if you're wondering whether I'm the kind of fruit who saves insects from dogs, I won't keep you wondering: I did make Fig hand over the cicada. She was not at all amused about having to give it up. The cicada was not amused at being sat on and then glomped. I was not amused at having to fish a cicada out of a dog's mouth.

I learned two things: Cicadas sound really creepy when sat upon and Fig needs to work on her "drop it" cue, as it doesn't work on cicadas.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Summer evenings with Fig

An Evening with Fig
You can't water your yard without Fig getting involved. For water hounds--like Fig here--running water is an open invitation. This is also why I can no longer take private showers unless I close the bathroom door. If there wasn't a lid on the toilet every flush would be followed by the sound of frantic splashing. (And possibly human screaming).

Sunday, August 8, 2010

My dogs get their own visitors

Most dog people I encounter on walks learn and memorize my dogs' names long before mine. I'm "Dexter's Mom" or "the lady with spotty dogs," depending on how you tend to encounter me. I've had people call across a four lane road, "Where's your dog?!" As if I'm not supposed to leave my house without something furry in tow.

Despite these experiences I was still surprised when people began coming to my house to visit my dogs. From adults to children, Dexter and Fig's friends (fans?) invite themselves over for a visit: with my dogs. People politely ask to setup play dates with my dogs. And the dogs? Well, they think it's grand.

Fig gets a hug from a friend
Here Figlet gets a hug from a friend.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

How we have fun and stay cool in summer

Fig and Dex hunt ice cubes in the poolWith temperatures nearing triple digits it was time to bring out the kiddie pool so the dogs could have some cool fun. Today's pool time was a bit different, though. I decided to add ice cubes and baby carrots to the water. The ice cubes would serve two purposes with the spotty duo: First, keep the water cool (though not for long). Second, it gives them something to hunt for and destroy. The carrots would distract Fig, my female Australian Cattle Dog mix, while I grabbed more ice cubes. (Dexter, my male Australian Cattle Dog mix, will take carrots hand-delivered to his mouth or not at all, thanks very much!)

Pool fun was periodically interrupted by spontaneous bursts of run-and-tackle games.

IMG_7290a
Fig can fly!

And then they would be back in the pool again.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Why puppies need supervision

Some days puppies seem almost angelic. They play sweetly and pass out on your feet. They lick your face and roll over to show their wee puppy bellies. You coo over them and snap pictures you will forever treasure. And then they have one of those days where you could pull your hair out and scream. But that would just mean you'd have to deal with naughty puppies AND clean up additional hair.

In one morning when Levi and Myrl were still puppies they managed to:
Bark at insane o'clock in the morning, repeatedly, disturbing everyone's sleep and our quiet neighborhood; pulled potted plants out of their pots and chewed both pots and plants; made strange scratching noises that turned out to be the exact sound a puppy makes as he claws his way under the 3" gap of the gate; ran free and thought it was AWESOME (thankfully came back when called); played "musical dog food dishes," resulting in 21 lb. Levi eating twice the food as 31 lb. Myrl; chewed the support system of several favourite orchid plants, resulting in plants falling over; chewed several favourite orchid plants; dug a huge hole in the pristine lawn and rolled in it; got covered in mud only three days after their last bath; and played with the outdoor solar lights (and by "played" I mean yanked them out of the ground and chewed on them).

20020827myrlleviplants
Fourteen potential chew toys in this picture and not one of them belong in a puppy's mouth.

And now for some math my dogs taught me:
Two puppies + no supervision = destruction.

Puppies: Furry evil geniuses in training? You be the judge.

In 2002 I was living at home with my family. My parents bought a house with a fenced yard and promised my sister and I that we could get a puppy. In a decision that was both sweet and--unbeknownst to us at the time--stupid, somehow one puppy became two. The puppies my parents purchased for us--an Australian Cattle Dog named Levi and an Australian Shepherd named Myrlhin--would teach me a lot about puppies and dogs.

For example, did you know that every puppy is a furry evil genius in training?

2002.08.24 Myrl the merle Australian Shepherd puppy
This is the face of an evil genius in training.

When Myrl and Levi were puppies they were mostly outdoor dogs. This meant there was a lot of time they weren't supervised, which meant they got into a lot of trouble. I couldn't so much as take a shower without one of them chewing something, knocking something down, pulling up potted plants, breaking planters, digging, or otherwise destroying stuff. (They taught me that dogs belong indoors with their families. And that puppies need lots of supervision in addition to lots and lots of toys to distract them.)

With no one there to guide him but his boredom, Myrl developed a particular taste for chewing up the solar lights in the backyard. One day my father looked out the back door to find Myrl proudly prancing through the yard with yet another solar light in his mouth. "Hey! Put that down!" came the booming voice of my dad. Myrl wandered over to Levi, dropped the solar light on the ground in front of his paws, and ran away as fast as his clumsy legs could carry him.

All Levi could do was muster a confused expression.

Life with dogs

Every now and then life throws you a curve ball. If you happen to share your life with dogs that ball may be covered in slobber. Or poo.

This is about the good, the bad and the downright goofy parts of life with dogs. The things no one shares with you until you're already in over your head and drowning in chew toys. The moments, from sweet to frustrating, that may get overlooked in the rush of life. The memories that time makes fuzzier each passing year.

Levi & Myrlhin