Tag: puppy

Places

Just over a month since Ruffian joined the pack at Four Sticks Farm, and we’re starting to widen his world.

An energetic extrovert at home, which is his safe spot, Ruff gets a smidgeon shy and skittish in unfamiliar spaces, so I stay mindful of the fact that he’s still a pup with a mystery history and there is work to be done.

Obedience 101 is an exercise in confidence construction. Last week he willingly hopped out of the truck upon arrival, unlike our debut performance, which involved the instructor and I hefting his portable kennel on to the parking lot, a little dragging, and a lot of treats to convince him to leave at safety of the 24 x 38 nylon doggie den. Talk about impressive first impressions.

Our Tuesday night class includes five assorted mixes, another golden retriever, a black Labrador about the same size as my rambunctious rogue, and a mammoth merry Muppet of a doodle dog named Harvey, who will definitely be the pick to plan the graduation party.

Ruffian is interested in the activities, and curious about his classmates, but sometimes opts to tuck himself between my knees to simply survey the situation. He’s learning to focus and has mustered the courage to cross over a tiny teeter-totter, step on a mini-trampoline and climb up and down a little ramp.

He’s happy to be there but happy to leave, leaping into his crate as soon as the tailgate lifts to minimum clearance. Tuesday nights are solid sleep nights.

We took our first walk in the park which turned out to be a walk in the park, strolling for 30 minutes with George and Rowdy, on paved trails in a quiet park on a cool cloudy day. Bolstered by the successful maiden voyage, I’ve now repeated the trip four times by myself with both dogs. Successfully. Mostly.

The third outing provided an educational opportunity, thanks to (a term I use very loosely) a heart-stopping moment when both dogs managed the exceptionally unlikely feat of rubbing open the clips on their Gentle Leaders®, allowing them to slide not only off their noses, but also off their necks, leaving them free to roam about the countryside.

I watched Ruffian raise his head, sniff the air, and slowly start to trot. Away. He glanced at me when I spoke his name but continued to move in a direction not toward me. Recognizing this as a call for critical management skills, in which I am neither practiced nor proficient, I stifled the panic and conjured up my A-game Happy Voice, called him as I raised my arms in the universal dog handler sign for “Woo-hoo! How much fun is this game?!!!” and watched him run right to me. Right into my relieved, grateful arms that gathered his sixty pounds in a vise grip, as my thumb slid under his buckle collar for reinforcement.

Ruff stood calmly as I secured the head collar and turned to do the same for Rowdy, the greatest dog in the whole wide world, who had been standing patiently by my side through the whole ordeal.

The rest of the walk was blissfully uneventful, though Ruff did eventually leave a mushy pile of stress relief in the pine trees that edge the trail.

It took an hour for my knees to shop shaking, but The Houdini Hounds incident transpired in fewer minutes than it took me to type the last four paragraphs, and twenty-four hours of reflection resulted in the revelation that Ruffian was not really running from me, just trying to remove an irritant from his nose.

I had him on the head collar because I had assumed he’d pull me down the trail like all the goldens who’ve come before him, but I was wrong. I switched to a martingale collar that proved comfortable for both of us, and we now work our way through the trail sans pulling, partnership secure.

Ruffian’s oafish charm, his enthusiastic embrace of the world around him, and his willingness to accept direction from the two-leggeds for as little as a “Good boy!”, a shoulder rub or an ice cube (he perfected his sit during Happy Hour) earned him a permanent place in my heart, but he and Rowdy are still sorting out their spots in the pack.

Ruff tries tirelessly to befriend, only to be rebuffed by a reluctant Rowdy whose responses range from a sneer with curled lip to a lunge with bared teeth to a snub with closed eyes, lying on the floor sending a prayer to the Gods of Unrequested Roommates, pleading for an end to this nightmare.

As a last-ditch effort to encourage the Happy Hooligan to join his play party, Ruffian will find a rug to drag, drub and drop, leaving a heap of machine washable microfiber anywhere but where it’s supposed to be, after easing his frustration with several substantial shakes.

Though reticent to assume the role of Lead Dog, Rowdy seems set on playing the part of Canine Conduct Controller, sidling up with side-eyed disapproval whenever Ruff engages in any activity considered unacceptable, generally an accurate assessment.

But because his motives are mostly about making friends not mayhem, and because his attention span is still puppy-short, my oft-employed tactic of taking neither notice nor action works as a cease-and-desist order in the world of Ruffian, and no matter the mischief in which he’s currently engaged, he’ll momentarily move on to his next happy place.

Despite the canine cold shoulder, Ruffian’s persistence to win Rowdy’s friendship secures him just enough reinforcement to find comfort and confidence in the presence of his crabby compadre. I’m sure it was the absence of Rowdy that kept Ruff glued to his crate at class, and the presence of Rowdy that kept Ruff with us at the park.

We’ve all got our parts to play, and we’re working our ways to relegation of roles – leading, following, getting out of the way.

Ruffian’s in charge of floor covering configuration.

Re-arranged rugs

That was Then, This is Now

 

Rowdy’s recent return to hosta-diving made me remember his enthusiasm for the sport last summer – when he was much smaller, and neither chasing a chipmunk nor pouncing on a squeaker ball.  Then it was adorable.

Puppy in hosta

Now, maybe not so much.

Dog in hosta

In celebration of the first year of Livin’ the Life of Rowdy, the puppy I wasn’t sure I wanted, but am so grateful that I got, a little look at Then and Now:

First day
First day
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(Mostly) Minding Our Manners

Good news on the obedience school front: we’re showing signs of minding our manners. In Rowdy’s case, this means incidents of barking, chortling and lunging at classmates in motion have been minimized, so that others in the class no longer draw straws, cut cards or throw rock/paper/scissors to avoid standing next to us in line for Recall practice.

In my case, it means awareness, admission, and acceptance of the fact that Rowdy resembles his owner in his fascination with the antics of our associates, which occasionally (maybe even frequently) leads to distraction.

I have always loved to watch other dog/handler teams in our training classes, and this group includes such a fun variety of breeds that it’s a challenge for me to not get caught up in the mastiff’s casual amble to the exit gate as his owner calls him with great enthusiasm, contrasted by the seriously straight shot across the ring by the German shepherd. And the star pupil border collie, so focused and obedient that he not only moves immediately and directly toward his owner, but stops, drops and stays, when commanded to do so halfway across the mat.

After a conversation with a kind and experienced classmate, I vowed to concentrate on Rowdy, and what a difference proactivity makes! When I devote my attention to my own dog, and convince him to return the favor, we do pretty well.  Raucous Rowdy shows signs of restraint. My party pup is growing up, and self-control is within our grasp.

Unless an instructor walks by with a squeaky toy – a bit of canine kryptonite to my little golden friend – but still, it’s progress in puppy steps.

All this behavin’ takes its toll though, and when we get home Rowdy gathers some of his favorite things and rests a bit. I’d like to think he’s processing our practice session, cementing his correct responses in his puppy brain for future reference, but suspect he’s more likely planning his squeaky toy acquisition strategy.

RowdySleepingWithHisBlanket

Finding Our Focus

I’ve called a moratorium on the dog park, hoping to rein in Rowdy’s exuberant insistence that every other dog is a potential tag-team partner, chew toy and/or running buddy. He is Very social, which bodes well for future therapy work, but not so much for present obedience training.

When you’re Rowdy, obedience school translates to indoor-dog-park-on-a-leash, but fortunately (when you’re me) hot dogs and string cheese still prevail over All Star Puppy Wrestling.

Puppies wrestlingRowdy’s brother Deacon is in our Beginner Obedience class. Interestingly, they initially showed little interest in each other, but now engage with gusto whenever they’re within range of their 8 foot leashes. Hence, the blurry action shot…

They’re the group’s youngest, and closest in size, which makes Deacon the favorite sparring partner, but Rowdy is ready to rumble with any of his classmates. Turns out that most of them are more serious students though, so I try to keep my class clown focused on his studies. Given all the hot dogs and string cheese required, I’m grateful that he’s young and active, and that the session was only 8 weeks long, or my little golden may have morphed into a rotund retriever by graduation day.

In lieu of the fenced-in freedom of the dog park, we’ve been walking on the paved trails that wind through the pine trees and past the river, at a local park.  The blacktop allows for all-weather walking and the leash requirement motivates manners practice. With movement.

Rowdy still tests the length and strength of our leather lead (and maybe just a tiny bit of my patience) as he zigzags across the path, discovering the wonders of pinecones, puddles, sticks, strangers, toddlers and tree trunks. But he’s learning. A little.  Other dogs, walkers with umbrellas, and children on the playground continue to challenge his attention to the task at hand, but most are conquered with a dose of the day’s edible distraction.

Someday I will reflect fondly, maybe even wistfully, on these days of puppyhood – the everlasting supply of energy, the delighted fascination of everyday discoveries, the simple joy of being Rowdy. So my focus is to always appreciate this lively, loving little dog who makes me laugh.

And to make sure I have enough treats in my pocket to get us to the parking lot.

Young golden retriever

60 Day Review

WatchingTheDryLot

The puppy I didn’t think I wanted has been with us for about 2 months now, enough time to reflect on the fun and frustration that is Rowdy:

1.  He has reminded me why God made puppies so cute. Teaspoon bladder capacities, thumbtack dental work and 15 second attention spans could not be tolerated for an ugly animal.

2.  The wisdom of the ages came to my rescue in the form of an abundant supply of washable throw rugs and barn towels – Kenmore don’t fail me now!

3.  An early potty-spot preference for the front lawn over the dog yard wood chips changed with the discovery of hosta, daisies and rhubarb. He finds great joy in diving in, snapping a few stems, and racing a lap or two around the fenced yard. Almost as much as I find in watching him.

4.  A small puppy can slobber big puddles out of a medium bowl, and no matter how much floor space is covered with towels, he will find the hardwood.

5.  Why is the smell of puppy breath so intoxicating?

6.  I’ve learned that wearing long pants prevents people from knowing that one of my socks may or may not be missing part of the elastic cuff.

7.  Without all those nighttime potty trips to the dog yard, I would never know how much time the horses spend in the dry lot behind the house.

8. He has proven that patience is indeed, a virtue; and that if I teach him what I’m asking him to do, then wait for him to do it, he will. And this makes us both happy.

All in all, wet floors, interrupted sleep and a couple messed-up socks are easily trumped by a wagging tail, puppy playtime and pooch smooches.

I think I’ll offer him a lifetime contract.

ImIn

Puppy Olympics

With all due respect to the athletes in Rio, I offer the Four Sticks Farm 2016 Summer Games Puppy Pentathlon, Rowdy-style:

Puppy and Cat Square Off

Boxing – The little yellow pup doesn’t qualify for competition yet, but has proven to be a worthy sparring partner for Mocha, the seal point from Siam.

Diving  (.5 Meter Platform) – has mastered the four-legged free-fall through the rhubarb into the wood chips, and nails the landing every time.

Triple Jump – routinely leaps off the porch, across the sidewalk and into the hosta. Just for the fun of it.

Water Polo – with a nod to his sporting breed background, splashes and dashes in any available body of water – wading pool to water dish.

Weightlifting – able to snatch and grab two men’s slippers and hold until offered a treat worth trading for.

Wrestling – breezed through preliminary matches with the plush bluebird and fuzzy giraffe, but brings the A game when facing his nemesis, the sock monkey.

I’d love to reward Rowdy’s athletic accomplishments, but am pretty sure he’d chew on the medal and pee on the podium…

Rowdy in the water bowl

Puppy Progress

Puppy Lying Down

Good news on the housebreaking front, as Rowdy recently had a whole day of sitting by the deck door every time he needed to go out. Whether due to his baby bladder or the fun of the new In-and-Out game, he “needed” to go out every 15 minutes between 10:00 am and 2:00 pm, but hope outweighed hassle, and I was happy to accommodate if it meant dry rugs and clean floors.

I don’t expect we’re out of the potty puddle woods yet, but suspect we’ve slogged our way through the heaviest thicket – definitely see a light in the forest.

We started Puppy Kindergarten and like many youngsters, Rowdy’s favorite class is recess – the 10 minutes at the beginning of the session during which the puppies are free to act like puppies. He loves the wrestling matches, being taken down more often than he takes down, though he’s one of the bigger boys in the group.

After a short break, which generally turns into a outdoor recess extension and an opportunity to slop drinking water across the training room floor, we practice some basic obedience skills. It’s all positive fun, with much string cheese and hot dog, and Rowdy willingly participates in any activity that involves feeding his starving belly.

Sitting PuppyBecause neither of us fosters much tolerance for dull drills, I try to work obedience activities into our everyday life. He sits to get a treat, and stays in a sit to have his leash snapped on. Walking without pulling is an epic work in progress, but shows potential as long as I dangle the proverbial carrot. Kibble crumbs in my left pocket have been replaced with a stick of string cheese which can be nibbled on the move.

We’re a long way from finished, but thanks to the food and the little bit of core strength I’ve managed to muster out of my yoga class, my shoulders are still in their sockets and my knees remain scrape-free.

Small Pleasures

Rowdy and Lisa’s List of Daily Delights:

  1. An entire day, housebreaking accident-free.
  2. Almost an entire cup of hot coffee, interruption-free.
  3. Play bowing in front of the cat, just to hear him hiss.
  4. Kneeling in front of the puppy, just to smell his breath.
  5. A whole bowl of crunchy kibble.
  6. Almost a whole bowl of not-yet-soggy Cheerios.
  7. Belly crawling under the bed, discovering cardboard storage boxes that satisfy the need for destructive ripping and chewing, with a yummy glue aftertaste.
  8. Sitting on the dog bed, discovering interactive dog toys that satisfy the need for playful exercise and bonding, with a puppy love chaser.
  9. Pawing at the deck door, getting to go outside when it opens.
  10. Opening the deck door, not needing to get the mop after it opens.

Sweet Rowdy