Feeding our dogs can become such a chore sometimes, can't it? So much so, that we assign it to the kids, supposedly to "teach them responsibility". Sometimes, I think, though, that it's just because we're so busy with everything else in our lives that we just don't want that one extra thing in our day.
Brian and I rarely put stock in celebrities, simply because more often than not, they are all glam and hype, and less actual substance. So it's somewhat surprising that when we have a question about dog training and raising, we turn to Cesar Millan, The Dog Whisperer, or one of Cesar's many books or his website. Fact is, though, his methods work, when applied properly. When it was time to bring Freedom home, I went to the library, and picked up a copy of his book Raising the Perfect Dog, and read it cover to cover. Soon, it will become a permanent part of my library, as it covers the first 2 years of a dog's life, and I'll be referring to it over and over.
I mention Mr. Millan, because something I've seen on his show more than once that strikes more deeply each time I've seen it mentioned is the concept of exercise/discipline/affection. It's the third part of that concept that touched me deeply today with the dogs when I woke up feeling terrible, my depression taking not just an emotional, but a physical toll on me.
Mr. Millan talks about the feeding ritual as a way of showing your dogs affection. He prepares his packs' meals by hand, mixing the dry kibble with some canned food (something we do here at home as well) while the dogs wait quietly for their meal (yes, this is possible, even with 8 week old pups-they will learn to wait very quickly when the behavior is modeled and expected!). He talks about projecting the love he feels for his dogs while preparing these meals. When was the last time you prepared any meal, for animal or human family member, with thoughts of love for the individual(s) that you're preparing it for? Or do you habitually rush through the process, tossing the food into the bowl, or onto to the plate, and setting it in front of the recipient without further thought?
Brian and I have made it a ritual to lovingly prepare the dogs' meals by hand while they wait, offering the hand that mixed the bowl to both dogs to lick clean. It's a shared moment that is incomparable and indescribable. This is their payday for their 24/7 work, and their thanks for the love we give them. There is no rush in the licking, and they gently step away when they're ready for the real meal. And we can accomplish this step with all four dogs when we're with Mom's pack as well. I wish I had enough hands to get a point-of-view snapshot of all four dogs happily cleaning my fingers after mixing a meal. Even shy and reserved Bella will come up and have a few tastes before sliding away to her bed.
This morning, however, I woke up feeling terrible, both mentally and physically. For those who are fortunate enough to have never dealt with severe depression, it's not something that's all in one's head, and it's not just a "down" feeling that goes away with a few jokes, unfortunately. It's a chemical imbalance in the brain, and it causes a number of symptoms which include emotional, cognitive and physical issues. For me, I woke up with a terrible headache, and my legs were stiff and sore. Both dogs took their needed potty breaks, then gracefully crawled back into bed with us, and snuggled with me until I finally was able to pull myself out of bed to get their breakfast while Brian did outdoor potty trip duty, as my body wasn't up to the trip down the stairs just yet. Hanging out in bed more or less quietly for almost 3 hours is a lot to ask of any puppy 14 or 9 weeks, but to have them do it voluntarily, is an amazing gift that wasn't lost on me. Needless to say, there was a lot of love and appreciation in their kibble this morning!
Freedom wasn't done, though. After his breakfast was eaten, he whined until I came and got him, and he napped on my lap for another 4 or 5 hours until lunch time. He's been my velcro dog all day long, at least until I was stable enough to get around a little better. On our walks, he's been forgiving of my slowness when my legs get tired faster than usual, and puts up with me, and he's reserved his bad-boy act for his kitchen romps with Tardis (who's been a little less forgiving, but is still looking at me as though trying to figure out what's wrong with me today).
All this got me thinking, though, about how we show our affection to those around us. We're told that we shouldn't use food to show affection to our kids, and to an extent, I think that's true. We don't need to buy our kids' love with sweets and junk food, or toys and games. But we can show our kids, our pets, and our families that we love them by taking the time to really shower them with love by thoughtfully preparing nutritious meals, and taking time away from our electronic, hurried lives to spend a bit of time playing and exercising with them.
After all, if you exercise the body and mind, have the discipline to maintain your rules, boundaries, limitations and rituals, you'll have more affection flowing both directions in the relationship than you know what to do with!
Go enjoy a little time with your two and four legged loved ones, and be blessed! Thanks for reading.
Freedom
5 Weeks old
Showing posts with label puppy raising. Show all posts
Showing posts with label puppy raising. Show all posts
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here!
It's been an on and off kind of day. And I'll carefully avoid my soapbox, as I can easily hop up on it, and spend the next several hours ranting about slime-balls who perpetuate fraud without scrupals, and make life difficult for others who are trying to make it through life as best they can with real difficulty. See, there's this guy who's apparently in Seattle, selling service dog vests on e-Bay, with part of his advertisement saying something to the effect of "Take your beloved pet shopping with you. You may have to play blind or stupid, but hey, you love your pet, right?" Needless to say, that got my ire up, and I spent some time this morning fixated on it, and my day was a bit of a roller coaster, thanks to the boys, who try so very hard to make us laugh.
So, rather than ruminating on all the jerks in the world, I thought perhaps I'd spend some time writing about our sweet boys, and what makes each of them special. Much like people, dogs have individual personalities, and communicate with their own vocabulary and body language (so there all you science-geek doctoral types out there who think that dogs are lower life forms who aren't intelligent enough to communicate!). They each have their own individual style of play, eating, sleeping, and working.
You've met Freedom before. He's growing up, and has had his "big boy" hair cut already. He's also maturing mentally very fast, and is starting to reason through challenges, and figures out how to get to what he wants when there's an obstacle in his way, including playing to Mom and Dad's sympathies when nothing else seems to be working for him. He's a willing worker, and has been since he came home just shy of 6 weeks old. He still alerts to Brian's blood sugar highs in the middle of the night by going straight to Brian's mouth, and laying down, refusing to go to his crate until Brian has checked his sugars. One night recently, Freedom refused to go to bed at all, sleeping at the foot of the bed the entire night. It's the only time he's done that, and the only thing we can point to, is that Bri's blood sugars were high that particular evening when we went to bed. He's not repeated the behavior since.
Freedom is still very fearful of other dogs outside of Mom's pack, and the pack of dogs next door to Mom. If it walks on 4 legs, you can bet he'll be whining and crying like someone's got him by the throat, even if said other dog is still 100 feet away. We're working on this, slowly, and we've now met 2 or 3 other dogs that Freedom has gotten nose to nose with. Anything else, person, wheel-chair, car, basketball, scooter, bike, R/C airplane, you name it, he'll walk by, or greet happily and without hesitation, but you can forget about other dogs. This is just the way my sensitive little guy is, and it's something we have to work on.
He is truly a Cocker Spaniel. Leaves, pine cones, sticks... they simply aren't safe from the retrieving mouth of my little black puppy. Flowers are his absolute, all time favorite thing to carry around for Mommy. A few times now, I've caught him walking around, blossom gently tucked between lower and upper lips just below his nose, with just the bloom sticking out, and on two occasions, while playing fetch outside, he's left the ball behind, to bring me a flower from the grass instead. I remember each of my kids doing this for the first time, but I never thought my dog would do that! Freedom's great on walks, other than when that perfect leaf is on the sidewalk, and is just too much temptation for a 13 week old pup... I've had to correct him more than once, put him in a down position, and make him leave the leaf alone. Most of the time, though, we can just see it coming, and remind him to "leave it" and he can walk by with just a longing glance (if you've ever dealt with a Cocker, you know they are born with that look mastered).
A perfect gentleman, Freedom has taken to being the defender of his beloved Bella. Even if she can't stand him anymore because he's not so tiny, he'll defend her when play gets too rough and she can't get away fast enough because of her stiff legs. Little as he is, he'll brace himself in the path of Sparky the 20 pound freight train, and growl and bark, warning the bigger pup to chill out. He's also been seen laying down along her back when she's stiff. She'll tolerate him then, and I've wondered if perhaps he's warming her up; don't know if that's his intent, or if that's why she's letting him lay there, but it's one of those moments that leave you wondering. He relates to her in an entirely different way than he does the other two dogs in our pack, whether due to age, gender, status, or a combination of the above, I don't know. But it is amazing to watch.
Tall and slender, Freedom may be the lighter of the boys, and he takes his sweet time eating, but don't mistake him for a pushover at the dinner bowl. Mealtimes are generally supervised (at least until Tardis is done eating), so that we know who's done eating. Freedom doesn't let any other dog near his bowl, except of course, the lovely Miss Bella (pictured below), who gets the privilege of being allowed to sit right beside him while he eats, and is allowed the choice bits that he pulls out and drops on the floor at her feet (any other dog that close would get snapped at and run out of the room). He'll also willingly give her his treats, something that he won't do with any of the other dogs.
Let's see... my little guy is also a snuggler. Work is 24/7 for him, so he'll take play and cuddles 24/7 as well. After early morning potty break, he knows he gets to come to bed with us, if he'd like (and sometimes, he'd prefer to go back to his own bed, which is fine), and there are times he knows I need a rest, or just time to sit quietly with him. He will raise a fuss when he thinks I need a break, and will only quiet down when I sit or lay down with him, and he defends those quiet times (today during a nap, he actually jumped up and barked at a guy yelling downstairs from our balcony until I told him it was okay for him to lay back down and go to sleep). If you tell him it's time for a walk, he's ready with wagging tail and a back side plopped on the ground (followed by a whole body wiggling and jumping up to get at the leash-a bad habit we're trying to break before it gets ingrained-but I appreciate his enthusiasm!).
Meet Tardis, the newest member of our pack. He will be 9 weeks old tomorrow, and is a mix of American Cocker Spaniel and Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. He rounds out the pack nicely, but is the polar opposite of Freedom in many ways. Don't get me wrong, I love Tardis just as much... he's a clown!
Tardis wakes up ready to do four things: play, eat, potty and sleep, and not necessarily in that order. He is about a half pound heavier than Freedom, and 1-2 inches shorter. He plays hard, snores like a buzz saw (we call it his impersonation of deforestation), chows heartily, defers to his older pack-mate in all things, and detests walks.
He wakes up ready to play, forget that cuddling thing. "Let me up on that bed, so I can pull Freedom's ear!" seems to be his battle cry every morning, followed by "Oh, my goodness! I've got to go potty right now!!!" Amazingly, all this bundled energy gets contained into a very polite package while meals are prepared for the dogs, and he waits quietly, right up until permission is granted for the dogs to eat; then it's a race to the finish for this little guy. One-half of a cup of dry food mixed with a teaspoon of canned food is gone in 5 minutes flat, if not less, and his first thought is to turn around, and plunk down, waiting for Freedom to walk away from his bowl (he learned fast to wait at a safe distance).
If you ask Brian, he'd tell you that walks with Tardis are an exercise in patience, as Tardis doesn't always approve of his post-meal exercise. In fact, he makes his protests clear when he flops down, spreads out all four legs in opposing directions, and does a very convincing impression of a dust mop! He is getting better about walking, though, I think. Brian is a better judge of that, though, as he's the one on the other end of the leash more often than not, other than when I'm taking the boys down to the potty stations for a quick pre-meal trip.
If Freedom is a willing learner and worker, Tardis takes a little more convincing, but learns a lesson thoroughly. Tardis took several days to learn that his crate was a good place to crash, and wasn't a prison or a punishment, and now (mostly) he goes willingly after walks, and crashes out for hours at a time. Tardis is completely captivated by anything tasty smelling- have food, will listen. He's doing excellent with his commands as he and Freedom demonstrated for a potential trainer today.
Back in the house, though, Tardis is all about the toys. Whether they bounce, roll, can be chewed on or pushed, he's all over them; and when the toys get boring, there's always that fuzzy buddy that can be bounced, rolled, chewed on and pushed. And the best part about that? Freedom bounces, rolls, chews and pushes back! Their play is always supervised, because, as puppies, they can quickly become too rough and excited, and what was fun 5 seconds ago, can become aggression and a fight in a heartbeat. Sure, there's lots of growling, and some barking, and a strange sound known to Cocker Spaniel breeders as "purring" that sounds something like part growl, part whine, part bark and part howl. Unless you've ever heard it, it's rather hard to describe the warbling, odd sound that comes out.
If Freedom is an explorer/adventurer, then Tardis is the vacation guru. While outside, Freedom will be checking out every leaf and blade of grass, and Tardis is stretched full length on the lawn, watching. He does have moments, though, and we get our entertainment out of it, as he stalks whatever has his interest like a cat, creeping up slowly, crouched down low before plowing into whatever the victim is. In that regard, Tardis is more like a tank than anything else. He's built low to the ground and wide, and has a tendency to just plow his way through anyone and anything in his way--thank heaven he's only 7 and a half pounds, with an expected full-size weight of only 25-30 pounds, and not something like 70-100!
In the end, the guys make us laugh, and they challenge us to think about our actions. They live in the moment, and enjoy everything around them. They make us get up in the morning, eat 3 times a day, and get exercise. We get out, we meet other people, and we have to get away from the computers. And we get rest when we need it. Thank heaven for dogs!
So, rather than ruminating on all the jerks in the world, I thought perhaps I'd spend some time writing about our sweet boys, and what makes each of them special. Much like people, dogs have individual personalities, and communicate with their own vocabulary and body language (so there all you science-geek doctoral types out there who think that dogs are lower life forms who aren't intelligent enough to communicate!). They each have their own individual style of play, eating, sleeping, and working.
Freedom is still very fearful of other dogs outside of Mom's pack, and the pack of dogs next door to Mom. If it walks on 4 legs, you can bet he'll be whining and crying like someone's got him by the throat, even if said other dog is still 100 feet away. We're working on this, slowly, and we've now met 2 or 3 other dogs that Freedom has gotten nose to nose with. Anything else, person, wheel-chair, car, basketball, scooter, bike, R/C airplane, you name it, he'll walk by, or greet happily and without hesitation, but you can forget about other dogs. This is just the way my sensitive little guy is, and it's something we have to work on.
He is truly a Cocker Spaniel. Leaves, pine cones, sticks... they simply aren't safe from the retrieving mouth of my little black puppy. Flowers are his absolute, all time favorite thing to carry around for Mommy. A few times now, I've caught him walking around, blossom gently tucked between lower and upper lips just below his nose, with just the bloom sticking out, and on two occasions, while playing fetch outside, he's left the ball behind, to bring me a flower from the grass instead. I remember each of my kids doing this for the first time, but I never thought my dog would do that! Freedom's great on walks, other than when that perfect leaf is on the sidewalk, and is just too much temptation for a 13 week old pup... I've had to correct him more than once, put him in a down position, and make him leave the leaf alone. Most of the time, though, we can just see it coming, and remind him to "leave it" and he can walk by with just a longing glance (if you've ever dealt with a Cocker, you know they are born with that look mastered).
A perfect gentleman, Freedom has taken to being the defender of his beloved Bella. Even if she can't stand him anymore because he's not so tiny, he'll defend her when play gets too rough and she can't get away fast enough because of her stiff legs. Little as he is, he'll brace himself in the path of Sparky the 20 pound freight train, and growl and bark, warning the bigger pup to chill out. He's also been seen laying down along her back when she's stiff. She'll tolerate him then, and I've wondered if perhaps he's warming her up; don't know if that's his intent, or if that's why she's letting him lay there, but it's one of those moments that leave you wondering. He relates to her in an entirely different way than he does the other two dogs in our pack, whether due to age, gender, status, or a combination of the above, I don't know. But it is amazing to watch.
Tall and slender, Freedom may be the lighter of the boys, and he takes his sweet time eating, but don't mistake him for a pushover at the dinner bowl. Mealtimes are generally supervised (at least until Tardis is done eating), so that we know who's done eating. Freedom doesn't let any other dog near his bowl, except of course, the lovely Miss Bella (pictured below), who gets the privilege of being allowed to sit right beside him while he eats, and is allowed the choice bits that he pulls out and drops on the floor at her feet (any other dog that close would get snapped at and run out of the room). He'll also willingly give her his treats, something that he won't do with any of the other dogs.
Let's see... my little guy is also a snuggler. Work is 24/7 for him, so he'll take play and cuddles 24/7 as well. After early morning potty break, he knows he gets to come to bed with us, if he'd like (and sometimes, he'd prefer to go back to his own bed, which is fine), and there are times he knows I need a rest, or just time to sit quietly with him. He will raise a fuss when he thinks I need a break, and will only quiet down when I sit or lay down with him, and he defends those quiet times (today during a nap, he actually jumped up and barked at a guy yelling downstairs from our balcony until I told him it was okay for him to lay back down and go to sleep). If you tell him it's time for a walk, he's ready with wagging tail and a back side plopped on the ground (followed by a whole body wiggling and jumping up to get at the leash-a bad habit we're trying to break before it gets ingrained-but I appreciate his enthusiasm!).
Tardis wakes up ready to do four things: play, eat, potty and sleep, and not necessarily in that order. He is about a half pound heavier than Freedom, and 1-2 inches shorter. He plays hard, snores like a buzz saw (we call it his impersonation of deforestation), chows heartily, defers to his older pack-mate in all things, and detests walks.
He wakes up ready to play, forget that cuddling thing. "Let me up on that bed, so I can pull Freedom's ear!" seems to be his battle cry every morning, followed by "Oh, my goodness! I've got to go potty right now!!!" Amazingly, all this bundled energy gets contained into a very polite package while meals are prepared for the dogs, and he waits quietly, right up until permission is granted for the dogs to eat; then it's a race to the finish for this little guy. One-half of a cup of dry food mixed with a teaspoon of canned food is gone in 5 minutes flat, if not less, and his first thought is to turn around, and plunk down, waiting for Freedom to walk away from his bowl (he learned fast to wait at a safe distance).
If you ask Brian, he'd tell you that walks with Tardis are an exercise in patience, as Tardis doesn't always approve of his post-meal exercise. In fact, he makes his protests clear when he flops down, spreads out all four legs in opposing directions, and does a very convincing impression of a dust mop! He is getting better about walking, though, I think. Brian is a better judge of that, though, as he's the one on the other end of the leash more often than not, other than when I'm taking the boys down to the potty stations for a quick pre-meal trip.
If Freedom is a willing learner and worker, Tardis takes a little more convincing, but learns a lesson thoroughly. Tardis took several days to learn that his crate was a good place to crash, and wasn't a prison or a punishment, and now (mostly) he goes willingly after walks, and crashes out for hours at a time. Tardis is completely captivated by anything tasty smelling- have food, will listen. He's doing excellent with his commands as he and Freedom demonstrated for a potential trainer today.
Back in the house, though, Tardis is all about the toys. Whether they bounce, roll, can be chewed on or pushed, he's all over them; and when the toys get boring, there's always that fuzzy buddy that can be bounced, rolled, chewed on and pushed. And the best part about that? Freedom bounces, rolls, chews and pushes back! Their play is always supervised, because, as puppies, they can quickly become too rough and excited, and what was fun 5 seconds ago, can become aggression and a fight in a heartbeat. Sure, there's lots of growling, and some barking, and a strange sound known to Cocker Spaniel breeders as "purring" that sounds something like part growl, part whine, part bark and part howl. Unless you've ever heard it, it's rather hard to describe the warbling, odd sound that comes out.
If Freedom is an explorer/adventurer, then Tardis is the vacation guru. While outside, Freedom will be checking out every leaf and blade of grass, and Tardis is stretched full length on the lawn, watching. He does have moments, though, and we get our entertainment out of it, as he stalks whatever has his interest like a cat, creeping up slowly, crouched down low before plowing into whatever the victim is. In that regard, Tardis is more like a tank than anything else. He's built low to the ground and wide, and has a tendency to just plow his way through anyone and anything in his way--thank heaven he's only 7 and a half pounds, with an expected full-size weight of only 25-30 pounds, and not something like 70-100!
In the end, the guys make us laugh, and they challenge us to think about our actions. They live in the moment, and enjoy everything around them. They make us get up in the morning, eat 3 times a day, and get exercise. We get out, we meet other people, and we have to get away from the computers. And we get rest when we need it. Thank heaven for dogs!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Brave New Worlds...
So, we had to venture to the grocery store this evening. Pretty mundane task, right? Sure! If you're not hauling along a worn out eight and a half week old puppy with energy to burn. It's going on 7:30 this evening, and Freedom is currently tethered to my desk as I type, though why he's still tethered is beyond me, as he's crashed out, beyond moving another inch because he's so tired from his evening adventures in puppy-hood.
I've said this before, and I'll say it again this evening... Freedom is an amazingly well-behaved 8 week old pup. He's housebroken, more or less, with a few mistakes, barks and whines very little, and usually only when I'm nearing an anxiety attack, or he's really gotta go. Chewing, we're working on. Let's face it: Puppy teeth hurt like heck when they're coming in, and anything feels good to chew on when the pain strikes. Bully sticks work great for this purpose, and Freedom agrees wholeheartedly. But, I digress. As amazingly well-behaved as our little guy is, he's still not ready to be a service dog in training, let alone a full-fledged service dog. And it is a Federal crime to represent your dog as a service dog, if it isn't one.
Freedom is still just a pup, still in the early stages of training, and still an Emotional Support Animal. I mention all of this because of a discussion that Brian and I had while heading into the grocery store, leaving Freedom behind in his crate (in the well ventilated car, as it's nice and breezy and cool here today--wouldn't have attempted this yesterday for the world). I started having an attack while entering the store, and Brian wondered aloud why we couldn't bring the dog in with us, because he calms me down while I'm dealing with attacks. Simply put, while he does calm me down, according the the ADA, that doesn't constitute a working function to assist with my disability. Alerting to my attack, does; however, he doesn't do that consistently, he isn't labeled a service dog, he hasn't passed his CGCT (canine good citizen test), or his public access test yet. There is NO way I can legitimately bring him into a grocery store at this point. After he's finished his vaccines, and his good citizen test, and he's qualified as a service-dog-in-training, perhaps. But mid-anxiety-attack certainly didn't feel like a good time to challenge a gate-keeper in a store at any rate.
So, grocery shopping completed in record time while shaking, hanging on to hubby and cart for dear life and forgetting what we needed (despite the list right in front of me), we made it out of the store and to the car. I got Freedom out to go potty--he peed, and sat down, staring at me, waiting for the next fun adventure... Water the dog, put him in his crate, expect to hit the highway home... and what a racket from the crate in the back seat. I tell you, it's like having a 3 month old baby all over again!
We got Freedom out, I sat him in my lap (he'd had food and water, and peed, didn't seem to need to do anything else... figured he was hot, and reacting to my anxiety attack), and let the cool air hit him while we drove down the highway the 10 minutes or so home. Wouldn't normally let him do this, but figured it would help him calm down and cool off. Eight minutes into the drive, he couldn't sit still, kept wriggling to get down, and I knew how much cooler the foot area was, so (duh!) I let him down on the floor to cool off some more. This, is where the trip went horribly, and hilariously wrong...
Within seconds, Brian and I looked at each other, and simultaneously reached for the window button. Freedom was neither hot, nor reacting to my anxiety. Mom simply didn't wait long enough for him to finish his business at the grocery store parking lot. And boy-howdy, did he ever stink up our car in a hurry!
Needless to say, I did penance when we got home by cleaning up the floor in both the front and back seat on my side while hubby took the groceries in, and Freedom did time in the bathroom until I could put him in the tub to wash off his feet. I made sure that bath got double duty as a swimming lesson while he was there, so he'd be good and tuckered out after dinner, which he thoroughly demolished once dried off.
As I said, he's now sleeping soundly by my desk chair, hasn't moved a muscle since I started writing, and probably won't for another hour or so. He's been all work today; he's even turned his play sessions into training sessions on his own (he's gone looking for my clicker at least once so I can work with him). I think it'll be a quiet day tomorrow.
I've said this before, and I'll say it again this evening... Freedom is an amazingly well-behaved 8 week old pup. He's housebroken, more or less, with a few mistakes, barks and whines very little, and usually only when I'm nearing an anxiety attack, or he's really gotta go. Chewing, we're working on. Let's face it: Puppy teeth hurt like heck when they're coming in, and anything feels good to chew on when the pain strikes. Bully sticks work great for this purpose, and Freedom agrees wholeheartedly. But, I digress. As amazingly well-behaved as our little guy is, he's still not ready to be a service dog in training, let alone a full-fledged service dog. And it is a Federal crime to represent your dog as a service dog, if it isn't one.
Freedom is still just a pup, still in the early stages of training, and still an Emotional Support Animal. I mention all of this because of a discussion that Brian and I had while heading into the grocery store, leaving Freedom behind in his crate (in the well ventilated car, as it's nice and breezy and cool here today--wouldn't have attempted this yesterday for the world). I started having an attack while entering the store, and Brian wondered aloud why we couldn't bring the dog in with us, because he calms me down while I'm dealing with attacks. Simply put, while he does calm me down, according the the ADA, that doesn't constitute a working function to assist with my disability. Alerting to my attack, does; however, he doesn't do that consistently, he isn't labeled a service dog, he hasn't passed his CGCT (canine good citizen test), or his public access test yet. There is NO way I can legitimately bring him into a grocery store at this point. After he's finished his vaccines, and his good citizen test, and he's qualified as a service-dog-in-training, perhaps. But mid-anxiety-attack certainly didn't feel like a good time to challenge a gate-keeper in a store at any rate.
So, grocery shopping completed in record time while shaking, hanging on to hubby and cart for dear life and forgetting what we needed (despite the list right in front of me), we made it out of the store and to the car. I got Freedom out to go potty--he peed, and sat down, staring at me, waiting for the next fun adventure... Water the dog, put him in his crate, expect to hit the highway home... and what a racket from the crate in the back seat. I tell you, it's like having a 3 month old baby all over again!
We got Freedom out, I sat him in my lap (he'd had food and water, and peed, didn't seem to need to do anything else... figured he was hot, and reacting to my anxiety attack), and let the cool air hit him while we drove down the highway the 10 minutes or so home. Wouldn't normally let him do this, but figured it would help him calm down and cool off. Eight minutes into the drive, he couldn't sit still, kept wriggling to get down, and I knew how much cooler the foot area was, so (duh!) I let him down on the floor to cool off some more. This, is where the trip went horribly, and hilariously wrong...
Within seconds, Brian and I looked at each other, and simultaneously reached for the window button. Freedom was neither hot, nor reacting to my anxiety. Mom simply didn't wait long enough for him to finish his business at the grocery store parking lot. And boy-howdy, did he ever stink up our car in a hurry!
Needless to say, I did penance when we got home by cleaning up the floor in both the front and back seat on my side while hubby took the groceries in, and Freedom did time in the bathroom until I could put him in the tub to wash off his feet. I made sure that bath got double duty as a swimming lesson while he was there, so he'd be good and tuckered out after dinner, which he thoroughly demolished once dried off.
As I said, he's now sleeping soundly by my desk chair, hasn't moved a muscle since I started writing, and probably won't for another hour or so. He's been all work today; he's even turned his play sessions into training sessions on his own (he's gone looking for my clicker at least once so I can work with him). I think it'll be a quiet day tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Let Freedom Ring... (or in this case, howl)
Our big news of the day is that we've found a new apartment, about 20 miles closer to my mom's place, which cuts our trip time in half, not to mention the cost of gas for our frequent trips up there. Looks like we'll be moving at the end of the month, in increments, as the new place doesn't open up until the 5th of August, and we're hoping to be out of this place by the end of July. Anyway I look at it, I'll just be glad to be out of this place. Even though the management here cannot deny me the dog because he's medically prescribed, they let me know in no uncertain terms that the dog is unwelcome here. I'm somehow supposed to make him "invisible"... How exactly I'm supposed to train a service dog while doing this, is beyond me, and to do so simply for the convenience of the manager, is rather a put off to me. Not to mention, it sent my anxiety through the roof, as I now worry every time we take Freedom out who's outside, who's watching, how fast I can get him in the car, etc. Rather counter-productive to the whole purpose of the dog...
So, the move we'd planned for September, has been pushed up to this month instead. By the way... I hate moving. But our daughter is in California, enjoying a much deserved break with her grandparents, cousins and brothers and sister down there for the rest of the summer, so there's one less thing to stress about!
Freedom's been making progress in more than just his physical size. He's been proving his mental growth as well. We've been doing short clicker training sessions as well, working with "heel", "come", "sit", "down", and "leave it", hitting about a 75% success rate. He loves his treats! He also had his first water play time last night... an experience that he could have passed on, if you'd asked him, but he tolerated it, and my holding him just above the water, with only his paws under the surface so that he could paddle. It's good exercise, and it helps cool him off when the weather is like it is again today. Up here in the Northwest, most places don't have A/C, so it gets warm and stuffy inside rather quickly.
He's also learning to toss his bully spring around. For those who aren't familiar with these dog chews, they are a variation of the bully stick, a long strip of beef tendon that's been sterilized and dried, and in the case of the spring, it's been dried in a long, loose coil that the dog can chew, and toss around. It goes everywhere with our little guy... he chews it, falls asleep with it, entertains himself with it when I'm reading or on the computer. It's the next best thing to Mom when his teeth are hurting (not that I generally allow him chewing on me -- he likes to sneak up on toes and earlobes when I'm asleep on the couch!).
He's also started alerting to my anxiety attacks. He has taken to whining, scratching, and howling when he's kept away from me and can't get to me, roughly 5 minutes before an attack strikes. The pattern started becoming noticeable today in the car on our way up to talk to the management at the new apartment. Freedom is generally pretty quiet in the car, sleeping in his crate for the entire ride. But today, about half-way there, he pitched a fit, making us think perhaps he had to go potty, and that we'd arrive to find a mess in his crate. Within 5 minutes, I had the awful tightness in my chest, and all the other lovely symptoms (said with utmost sarcasm, here) that attend an attack, and Freedom's crate was dry when we arrived. He's gone through these motions at least 3 other times just before my having an attack, leading us to think that perhaps he's already picked up on the changes. This is part of what having a PSD is about.
We've also started kicking around the idea of training Freedom to navigate me out of a crowd or store via pulling harness. Yes, he'll only be about 25-30 pounds at most, but when my attacks are at their worst in a crowd, my mind shuts down, and I will follow gentle pressure. Brian (my hubby) agrees that this might not be a bad thing, as Freedom will most likely be able to find the shortest way out faster than he could. It's a big maybe right now, but it's not ruled out just yet.
For now, I have a floppy-eared, goofy black puppy that's smart and talented, and has grown very bonded to me, and reads my signals better than anyone else I've ever known. I can't say that I regret bringing this little guy into my life for even one moment.
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