I See You, Fenway

The clinic where I work has a kennel and a doggie-daycare.  On Tuesdays, which is my longest day (12 hours), I bring Fenway to work with me.  He loves to go to school to "play with the other kids".  He knows when I'm getting ready for work and follows me around like a lost kitten, rubbing up against my legs and not letting me out of his sight!

There are certain other "kids" he likes to play with, and they're the Tuesday regulars.  I watch him proudly through the viewing window as I work, a few moments stolen in quiet watchfulness.  He's generally pretty well-behaved, but sometimes goes overboard with the humping and the rough play - he is a teenage boy, after all.  He comes from the school of hard knocks - a doggie version of South Boston!  Having 2 older sisters is no joke!

"Mom?  Is that you out there?"

As I watch him through the window, I see him running and playing.  I feel like a mom watching her kid on the playground.  I watch him stumble and get corrected.  I watch him run and jump with glee!  I watch him sort out his relationships with other dogs, all on his own.  Then he sees me through the window and I hear him squeal with recognition, and crane his neck to see inside.  It's then that I realize he has my heart.  No more a homeless little foundling, but a loved dog.  A dog with a home.  A dog in Arwen's Pack.

Home is where you can snooze on your back in the sunbeams

When In Doubt, Just Cuddle

He cuddles.  Fenway likes to snuggle in and be warm and cozy.  He's showing some genetic Pibble with all this cuddle-puddle behavior.  I'm not sure if it's a safety tactic to keep away from the less than welcome ladies in the house, or maybe he's just chilly.  I just like to think of him as a cuddle bug.

The girls snuggle a bit with us - Arwen enjoys a nice upside down belly rub and will stay in close proximity to me at all times, but a good long cuddle is simply too much heat for her, I suspect.  Nyxie like to snuggle into Matt's pillow when it's just the 2 of us.  She'll press her nose against me and steal my warmth, facing me on his pillow, her body pressed against me.

 

To say they've accepted Fenway is a bit of a generous stretch.  "Getting familiar with his presence and not actively trying to kill him all the time" might be a more accurate assessment.  Fenway is an "old soul" dog - one that seems to understand things that he shouldn't already know.  Aside from a perpetually worried look on his face, he's the embodiment of zen.  I suppose I'd be perpetually worried as a newcomer around these 2 myself...

We're taking one day at a time here, working it all out.  We're giving time to each, while letting them know how much they're loved.  Change can be tough, but cuddling comes easy.  

Energy

Every dog trainer is different, and every is dog also different.  Whether you like or dislike the methods of Cesar Millan, there is one central philosophy that can be taken from him and his TV show that is highly valuable.  He teaches people that their own perceptions, feelings, and experiences directly impact the way we relate to our dogs, and that balanced, calm, assertive energy is what dogs follow.  And what people follow, too.

For example, I have experienced Nyxie to be reactive to other dogs, and I carry that fear of what's happened in the past with us on each walk.  Therefore, that anticipation and anxiety creates instability that Nyxie reacts to.  She's tense, anxious and reactive.  Well isn't that baggage unfair to her!

While I walked the girls today, I decided to concentrate on calm, assertive energy as Millan encourages on his show.  I employed a finger snap and that "ch!" sound when I saw Nyxie starting to escalate.  I physically stood between her and the glass slider, correcting her when she started barking crazily at my neighbor walking her dog.  

Guess what happened?

Nothing.  No crazy dog flying off the handle.  No lunging at the glass door.  No pulling on the leash.  No reacting to another dog barking at her in close proximity.  My calm, assertive energy won the day.  Even Arwen responded well on our walk - no leash pulling.  It was invigorating, this new strong energy!      

So we're starting over.  No more nervous energy.  That's something I struggle with at times in all aspects of my life and it's quite limiting.  No more.  Wish me luck, folks.  But I won't need it - just my own inner strength.

Oz

It's puppy season again.  That spectacular time of the year when all fuzzy goodness comes bounding awkwardly through our front doors.  At the hospital, we're starting to see all the new puppies brought in for their first vet visits and vaccines.  Some come from shelters, others from breeders, but they're all adorable.  And their new parents are full of joy.  And questions.

The routine is the same for each visit.  I usher the parents back to the scale for a weight check, they hold their squirming puppy on the scale and then they giggle as they watch their Fuzzy Wonder navigate into the exam room.  As soon as I hear the click of that door behind us, I exhale.  I know what's coming - the Questions.  I have been asked questions about nutrition, potty-training, crate-training, chewing, teething, baldness, bodily excretions, itching, ears, nail-trimming, wet vs dry noses...  The list goes on and on.

I've been a vet tech (although I prefer "vet nurse" as it more accurately describes what we do) for almost 7 years, and I've heard ALOT of questions.  Some are more surprising than others, some I've had to research the answer for, but I love each and every question.  The more questions, the more involved the parents seem as they welcome home their new puppy.  I love those parents that have done the research long before adopting or buying that special puppy the most.  They can tell me all about training, and their puppy's breed disposition, but are wanting to confirm what they've learned.  They're invested in doing the right thing behaviorally, medically, and emotionally.  And they want to truly partner with their vet team to do what's best.

The parents that scare me the most are those that have no questions and are very quiet throughout the exam.  I'm always wondering if they're really ready for the onslaught that this little Bundle of Joy is about to unleash on them.  I know I wasn't prepared when I brought home my first puppy.  In retrospect, I wish I had kept my veterinary tech and vet in that exam room for at least another 45 minutes!

The ones that really terrify me are the ones that seem truly disinterested in their puppy.  The man who seems irritated to be there, whose wife bought the kids a dog of a breed he would never want.  These are the puppies I want to spirit out the back door into the arms of the nearest stranger because they might get a better chance at life.  In these cases, I find myself praising the puppy endlessly, and trying in the short visit to teach a few basic commands like "sit" and "down".  Maybe if he sees me do it, he'll find some merit in the pup.  Maybe.

The majority of the puppies that come through our doors are lucky.  There will be insurance provided for them, daily cookies and walkies, and trips to the dog park.  Life will be good.  The hope in the eyes of each parent and puppy's eyes is palpable.  It's the promise of new life brought into our homes in the season of blossoms and green grass.  Fertility, infancy, renewal.  

For those lucky parents that are opening their doors to new puppies for the first time, and to all the hope they bring, I salute you!  The world of dogs is a magical, joyful, slobber-filled Oz.  So for now on, when I close that door to the exam room, I think I'll just turn to the new parents and say,

"Welcome to Oz.  We have cookies!"

Logic

I recently had an experience that's been on my mind for several days.  I was playing with a Rottie puppy at my clinic who's been boarding with us, when a young man approached us.  As puppies will do, he nipped joyfully at the newcomers hands, play-bowing and hopping about happily.  After we exchanged a few pleasantries, the young man tells me that although the pup's cute now, "all these breeds - Rotties, Pitties and German Shepherds - they can turn on you when they're older".

I was floored and once I'd regained my composure enough to contradict him with LOGIC, I shared with him my personal experiences.  I explained to him that as an owner of 2 of the 3 breeds he mentioned, I'd had nothing but unswerving loyalty and devotion from each.  What  followed was the usual chatter about breeds, media hype and bad owners and then the young man went on his way.  I don't know that I was able to change his mind, but surely his beliefs weren't based on scientific research or personal experience with vast numbers of dogs of these breeds.  They were conjecture.

So now you're thinking that I'll discuss more about breeds, predispositions, temperaments and misconceptions...

Nope.

In mulling all this over for the past week or so, I've come to the conclusion that we expect too much from dogs.  They are expected to be unflappable in the face of pain, loyal when faced with neglect and utterly submissive when bullied.  How much would you take if someone were hitting you, teasing you, or otherwise mistreating you?  The healthy answer would be that you would stop that treatment as quickly as possible.  Either by discussing it, pushing back or simply walking away.  What is considered "turning on you"?  What's the context?  You're walking through your house and Sadie your German Shepherd of 5 years suddenly decided the Kibbles 'N Bits are unacceptable (I can't say I'd blame her) and hauls off and goes for your jugular?!  I find this hard to believe.  A more conceivable, yet troubling scenario is that Sadie is under- socialized, lives in the backyard, is tied to a chain and when you smack her around a bit, or take food from her bowl, she snaps at your hand.

So how much do we expect our dogs to take from us?  If your friend lied to you once, slapped you once, ignored and neglected you, you'd probably stop returning their phone calls.  Stop going to their house, stop the relationship once and for all.  A dog doesn't have that option.  Her first line of defense is the growl, then snap.  Forget about breed propensities - I've seen many a 3 lb chihuahua turn into a piranha pooch at the sight of a nail trimmer.  But wouldn't you react if you were hurt or scared?

So the next time you hear someone talking about a dog "turning" on its owner, conduct your own little experiment.  Raise your arm and bring it really far back, and slap them across the face.  Slap them really hard.  I'm pretty sure they'll act just like a dog.