Running with the Pack...

My, my... It's been a while since I've done any writing, but it's been a busy several weeks around here. School's back in session, which for us, means full-time learning. Our daughter schools from home via the internet, through the public school system, so we intersperse puppy training with 1st grade lessons. Samantha (our 6 year old) wants to be a dog trainer, among other things, and watches with rapt attention as we work with the boys, trying hard to imitate what we do; often to everyone's frustration.

As Freedom finished up all his shots in August, he's been having many great adventures, including a road trip to Southern Oregon and Crater Lake, where we hiked a bit and saw the sites, and he bonded a bit with his two-legged sister in the back of the car.

 

Once home, we set out on a purposeful journey of exploring the trails behind our new apartment complex, which backs up to one of the most beautiful urban state parks you can imagine (I thought it was just a tiny beach state park when we moved here, until I got to hike in it!). Freedom and I spent a few hours climbing around the park, exploring streams and trails, coming home happy and tired. We tried the trail again the next day with the whole family, getting turned around on the trail, and ending up completely lost; our 3 mile fun of the day before turning into an 11 or more tour of misery! But, Freedom and Tardis took it like troopers, not complaining in the least, until near the end, when Freedom finally laid down, and begged for me to take his backpack off, poor guy.

Yes, Freedom and I are now working with a small backpack. It's not a service vest of any kind, just a simple small sized backpack that I picked up at the local pet store to help him grow accustomed to carrying the weight when we walk, which he's been doing great with. It helps him focus (we pack a roll of poop bags in each side to balance it out), and gets him used to "play" walks in the park, versus "work" walks, where he needs to stay close to me and ignore other dogs and humans. He's still young, so this is very much a work in progress.

The dog park has become a huge fascination for Freedom. Tardis has just completed his shots this past week, and of course it not only rained all weekend, just when he was released to go to the park, but I've been dealing with bronchitis trying to become pneumonia, so no dog park for us just yet. Hoping to take him for his first trip tomorrow. Otherwise, Freedom hears the words "Dog Park" and comes completely unglued... We simply cannot get to the door and into the car fast enough for his liking. Even though he still carries some of his fear of larger dogs, he's learning to get past it, and loves to run with everyone at the park, regardless of size; it's becoming more about just being a dog, and having fun sniffing and socializing with everyone, human and canine, than caring about size.

Tardis, of course, having been left behind every time we go, always goes nuts sniffing Freedom from one end to the other trying to figure out all the strange smells covering his pack brother when we come home. Just wait, kiddo, your day's coming....

In other news, Mom has added a new addition to her pack. While this is good news for both her and the dog, it's a harsh reminder of why it's so important to think about rescuing before you buy that darling puppy at the pet store. Rose is a sweet, lovely 4 year old red and white American Cocker Spaniel who is very shy and quiet, and came to Mom in dire conditions.

 A huge "thank you" to Ginger's Pet Rescue, for saving this lovely dog from her disastrous conditions as a back-yard breeder.  For such a young dog, Rose has a long way to go to a perfect bill of health (she's already lost at least one tooth, and has had untold numbers of litters judging from her body condition, from what Mom's vet, and her medical records say). She loves Mom, though, and sticks to her like glue. If you can, please consider helping Ginger's Rescue financially, or in some other way. This is a great cause, and she does so much with her team to help dogs who are literally at death's door. As for Rose's take on all the youngsters in the pack? A soft growl and a gentle snap to the nose usually is all it takes from this experienced mother to tell these young whipper-snappers to cool it (and amazingly, they shut up, lay down, and go to sleep, or at least leave her alone!).

(The whole pack crashed out on my couch Saturday... From left to right: Rose, Bella, Sparky, Tardis (on his back) and Freedom (on my lap))

In other news, if you're looking for a good dog-related book to keep you warm while your dog warms your toes this fall, check out this amazing read: A Dog's Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. This is a must read for any dog owner, anyone who's thinking of owning a dog, or anyone who wishes they could own a dog. Okay, you could even read it if you own cats (as there's some really funny stuff in there about cats, from a dog's perspective). I cried, laughed, and sometimes, did a little of both at the same time, and hugged my own dog fiercely while reading some of the harder parts to digest. But what the book did to me, was made me look a little differently at how I interact with my own canine.

Anyway, it's getting late here on the West Coast (that's on the left side of the map for those of you, like me, who are geographically-challenged!), so I'm going to head off to find some other great adventure for my dog and I (most likely involving another great book and a blanket). Have a great adventure of your own!  Woof!

On Chewing Gum and Growing Pains...

It's been a rough week or so for us here with the boys; probably more for those with four legs than for those with two. It's got to be tough to be a puppy. Not only are you trying to figure out a whole new world with multitudes of smells, sounds, tastes, textures and rules, but your body is changing and growing. For many breeds, Cockers included, this means longer legs, big feet and floppy ears that get in the way when you're after that pesky housemate that won't leave you alone. Nothing ruins a good game of chase faster than stepping on your own ear while running around the corner on kitchen linoleum and sending yourself in a spinning slide across the floor.

Freedom and Tardis have had a bit of a rough week with struggling with changing bodies, learning rules for the new apartment, and figuring out... chewing gum. If you think it's obnoxious when you find it on the bottom of your shoe, or in your child's hair, try finding it in between your dog's rear foot pads! Freedom is still sporting some of the sticky goo as I've been unable to cut it all free. Getting in close to his large pad while he's growling and jumping around is tricky business, so we snip a little at a time, and it's getting out a little at a time. We also have an over-abundance of sticky oak leaves on the ground as fall sets in, and the boys love to pick them up. They stick to fur, feet, and noses, making our frequent walks a hoot as we try to free the icky leaves from the boys' fur. Of course, the boys are boys, and don't learn. They still chase every leaf they see (although they are starting to find the non-sticky leaves more fascinating, thank heaven!).

A blessing has come with the new apartment: lots and lots of other dogs. Freedom, as I think I've mentioned, has a terrible fear of larger dogs. Just seeing them from across the parking lot results in screaming and panic on his part. But thanks to seeing the variety of large dogs here at the new complex, and a few patient and understanding owners and curious, playful canines that we've met, Freedom is starting to learn that not all dogs are scary. He's even learning to approach, cautiously, and greet politely when he sees a large dog, without raising a big fuss. It's taken a lot of work, and Tardis always ends up looking at Freedom like he's lost his mind (probably not far from the truth) as Tardis will run up to every dog he sees, jump and want to play, regardless of the dog's interest in him. But with patience, and a lot of work introducing Freedom to dogs by hand (introducing him rear-end first, holding him on my lap, then setting him down and letting him watch me pet the larger dog and pet him at the same time, refusing to let him hide behind me), he's getting better. We aren't to a point of letting him meet them in a stressful situation yet (a pet store, or the vet's office, although the latter is far easier on him than the former), but I think we can get there. One of our local pet stores has a free puppy play time that we try to get the boys to for some socialization. So far, we've struck out and missed one, and were the only ones there for the other. *sigh* Oh, well! That's the way the doggie treat crumbles some days!

Just like babies, puppies have growth spurts, and Freedom is more noticeable in his changes when he's not feeling so great. His eating has been slightly off the past few days- he has been eating more, just in smaller, more frequent meals- he sleeps more, with more intense activity when he is awake, and he's grumpy when he gets tired. It's been weeks since he's played the growly, nasty pup when we pick him up at bedtime, but here he is, doing that routine all over again. But when he realizes that it's just us, he snuggles in close, and tries to fall asleep. He's far more clingy than he's ever been, wanting to be near me no matter where I am; and he's tipping the scales at 8.5 pounds with a sudden gain in weight that's been slow in coming. It reminds me a great deal of the changes the kids went through when their bodies would experience sudden growth spurts and they would hurt, eat and sleep and be cranky. Best treatment I found was to just leave them be and let them get their rest. So, Freedom is spending a good part of his day sleeping under my desk, with a good mile-long walk in the middle of the day to burn off energy (and some short walks after meals and any other times the boys need to get excess work in before they get into trouble...).

Tardis is growing far more steadily, and since he's more playful, more aggressive in his play and sleeps more, he's harder to tell when there's a growth spurt happening. But alas, his height is showing, he's slimming down, and his legs are stretching. He's showing his Cocker side in his face, with his long, spindly legs showing his Cavalier side. While still trying to catch Freedom in height, he outweighs his older pack-mate by at least a full pound. He's far more hard-headed when it comes to training, but is more independent about sleeping. With 5 weeks between them in age, though, we'll see what Tardis does as he approaches Freedom's age.

One decision has been made this week, however. Freedom and Tardis have officially begun their training as service dogs. Well, officially as they can. We've got the access test standards, and we're working on that, with obedience work happening during the day as well. We've found a trainer to work with who's AKC certified to do our Good Citizenship tests and can help us with the access evaluation as well, and she trains service and therapy dogs. As we take this next step, it's both exciting and a bit scary, but it will be very worth it.

When the Mundane Becomes Special

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.

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!

Updates Aplenty!

No, we haven't fallen off the face of the earth, it just seems like it. We got moved out of the apartment that wanted Freedom to become the invisible dog, and finally got moved into our new apartment this week. A misunderstanding with our internet provider left us with no 'net access until today, so we're catching up with everyone, including getting the new address out to magazines, distant relations (in other words, non-parent relations *grins*), and trying desperately to get two dogs settled back into a routine that they had only just settled into to begin with.

Yes, I mentioned two dogs. Tardis did come home on the 22nd, and he's fit into the pack beautifully, if not in a brotherly kind of way. And he and Freedom are moving into a more intense period of training now that they are both settling in and learning the ropes, including their first trip to the hospital for Brian's endocrinology appointment this morning.

They are adjusting nicely, but there are challenges, and there is much to update our readers on, and far too much to try to cram into one entry. It's been an incredibly long week, and my anxiety levels have been draining me to no end (and my doctor and I made an adjustment to my meds at my last visit, which has thrown things into a further tailspin, on top of the new surroundings, and the disturbance in routine, etc.). So, as I'm about at the end of my energy reserve, I'll call this good for tonight, and will spend the next few nights picking apart the puppies development over the last few weeks in topics, rather than a day-by-day approach.

Freedom goes to his first puppy-play-date tomorrow outside of our own pack, and we'll be meeting a professional trainer in the process as we start narrowing down options for the professional guidance of these two little guys, and Sunday, they go for professional portraits. Mom would like to see us have at least one shot with Brian and I in the picture (FYI, I'm not all that fond of being in front of cameras).  It's been a busy week, and it looks like it'll be an even busier weekend! Enjoy yours, and we'll be seeing you here in the blog!

What Would Freedom Say?

Honestly, I'm not sure I'd want to know right now. Thankfully, he's finally crashed out by my desk, laid out on his side, rope bone clasped between his front teeth with the other end laid between outstretched paws. It's the first time this evening he's really relaxed because he's worn out, and he's barely touched dinner.

Truth be told, I feel for the little guy. Our house is in upheaval as the move nears (we pack the truck day after tomorrow), and I'm restless and anxious, as I am just before every move. I'm sure Freedom's picking up on that, and it's not helping the anxiety that every animal feels when their family and home goes through this process. He's been whiny and restless himself, and has been off his feed, despite a play date with Sparky and Bella (two actually) this past weekend. While he enjoyed the playtime, he's been more aggressive than usual, and isn't eating as well as he normally does.

Don't worry, he's still gaining weight (he's at over 6 pounds now, give or take a few ounces from day to day), plays for short bursts, drinks, eats, pees and poos as he should). He's just not his normal happy-go-lucky self. He can't stand for me to leave his sight, and even if I am in sight, if I'm packing a box, he's whining and carrying on like the world's coming to an end.

So, it's pack a box, get him to settle down on the floor, then pick him up and love on him for 20 minutes or so, play for a few with him, let him rest for a bit under my desk, sneak off to pack another box (lather, rinse, repeat). Tomorrow, will be the hardest. It'll be the last of the boxes, taking apart the bedroom furniture, and getting things lined up for a speedy exit to the truck. Wednesday is an extremely busy day for us. Our schedule looks something like this:

Wake up, feed entire pack (2 humans plus 1 dog), shower and groom dog. Be out of house no later than 8 a.m.
Hit the bank, get checks for Apartment and breeder.
Drive up to the apartment, drop off deposit, then go to vet's for Freedom's shots and checkup.
Drive back down to old neighborhood, get Uhaul truck and pizza for friends helping with move.
Start loading truck. Do as much as possible, as quickly as possible.
Go to my doctor appointment in the afternoon around 3:30 while hubby finishes with truck.
Finish apartment cleaning, head north to unload truck at storage unit and meet Mom, so we can go back  down south to get our car and the groceries and the stuff that goes to Mom's house for the next 2 weeks.
Turn in keys and head to Mom's.

It makes for a long day, but it'll be worth it to be in a place where Freedom has space to walk safely on a leash, play with other dogs, and be a dog. In addition, we got the great news that Tardis, Brian's diabetic service puppy, will be ready to come home on Friday! We've talked to Mom, and she's okay with having an additional pup in the house, so, here we go!

We were able to pick up some additional supplies for the second puppy this week, so we've got the leash and collar, and a few additional toys and chews for the youngest member of the pack as soon as he arrives. Freedom and Sparky will be heading up with us, and we'll get family photos of the puppies with their moms and dads, and Tardis will have a crate buddy to ride home with.

In mid-August, we'll be looking at putting Freedom into his first puppy class, and working more intensively with him. Our new place has lots of sidewalks to take the pups on, and once they have their rabies shots, and are cleared by the vet, our complex backs up to the trailhead of a state beach. Lots of walking for these guys for strong bodies and strong minds to endure the work that's been laid out for them.

In the meanwhile, we're enduring Freedom's willful attempts to deal with the turmoil in our house. Biting and snarling his way around naptimes has become the norm. Not that he's become aggressive, he's just frustrated and unsure of what's going on, and there's no real way to tell him that it's going to be okay. We just engage him when we can outside with his ball or his rubber bone/barbell and get him worn out the best we can, and try to relax him as well as possible in between box packing sessions. Tomorrow will be difficult, but maybe with some calm energy and calm music, we'll survive.

It'll most likely be a few days before I write again. Thank you to all who are reading and recommending this to friends. Your support is very much appreciated.

Things I've Learned From the Dogs....

We may train dogs to do what we would like them to do, but more often than not, they can teach us valuable lessons in life and love. Here's just a few of the lessons the dogs in my life have taught me:

Even when you're grumpy, a bunch of babies around you, can make your day.

A good run in the park makes everything better...

Only eat when you're hungry, and when you're full, walk away from your dish.

Cuddles cure loneliness.

Sometimes, you just have to chew on a problem for a bit, until it's solved.

Or, just sleep on it a bit...

Go for a walk, or just lay in the grass when inside is just too boring.

Nothing beats a good belly rub.

Wag your tail, bark less, growl only when you truly mean it, and lick liberally. Love unconditionally.

What happened in the past means nothing in the present. Live in the NOW.

If it doesn't love you and you can't eat it or play with it... piss on it and walk away.

Check everyone out. If they don't feel right, move away quickly without a fuss.

Dogs don't gossip. They take everyone at face value in the here and now. If someone isn't in the right frame of mind right now, they give that someone the opportunity to get there, and then they walk away. Think about how much less drama we'd have in our lives if we lived like that.

The pack sticks together, always. There is no stronger bond than that of a balanced, bonded pack.

Move when you have energy, or you'll get frustrated. Sleep when you're tired, or you'll get grumpy. Play often, have a purpose, love much, know who's in charge.

Start and end every day with a kiss and a ritual.

So, Why a Psychiatric Service Dog? (and) Why a Cocker Spaniel?

Admittedly, some days are bigger than others in a puppy's life. And while every day is an adventure and a huge growth step, not every day is really worth blogging about. Our last few days have been busy with packing in readiness for the move, and fighting with the owner and manager of our current apartment complex about rent, our written notice to vacate, and the dog. I won't bore you with the details, but it's not a pleasant situation, and my anxiety has been riding high the last several days.

So, since we're taking an afternoon break from training and I haven't written in a few days, I'd take some time to write about what a PSD is, why I decided on having on, and how in the world I came to choose a Cocker Spaniel. I'll keep the first section short, since I explained quite a bit about that in my first entry.

Why a PSD (psychiatric service dog)? 
Until about a year and a half ago, I didn't even know such things existed. Working in a military hospital, however, and dealing with soldiers who were returning with PTSD, and seeing more and more cases of patients with emotional support and assistance animals of various species got me thinking, and me thinking leads to me reading.

If you've read my blog to the current entry, you know that we started thinking about a service dog for my husband, who has ADD and type 1 diabetes. But the more I researched PSD's, and the worse my own depression and anxiety got, the more we began to consider a PSD as a potential option for me. It was still a huge question, though, until my mom moved up from California with her older dog, Bella, who began my real conversion.

Bella is usually a sweet old girl, but at 13, she can be a cranky old woman at times, too (we lovingly call her Maxine in those moments). Like any gracefully aging elderly woman, she's loosing her hearing, her eyesight, and sometimes, control of her bladder. But she loves to be cuddled like a baby, wrapped under the blankets with you on the couch, as you watch tv. And she would come and sit with me when I was feeling particularly anxious at night, she would make a point of cuddling extra close to me until I'd calmed down, and still does the same in the car.

By February, we were convinced it was time to start seriously pursuing a PSD, although exactly how was yet to be determined. With that decided, we moved forward, slowly and cautiously.

How we did it...


We started by reviewing our options. Purebred or rescued mutt? As much as my heart is all for rescues, this is a working partner for life, and a lot of time, money and training goes into the partnership. A rescue is a huge question mark of temperment, issues, and health. A purebred dog is pricey, but you can research the breed, breeder and get your puppy at a very early age, if you choose to train it yourself (or pay to work with a trainer). Hello! New question. Do I have the time and energy to train this dog myself, or do I want to hire a professional to do the work for me? Or, do I put in for a program dog and wait potentially years and save up the thousands of dollars for a match?

Ruling out the rescue was easy. I fell in love with all the faces on Petfinders, but realized that a single paragraph wouldn't tell me what I needed to know, and I couldn't possibly learn all that dog's possible issues in a short get-to-know-you meeting. So, I started spending time on the American Kennel Club's website, checking out various breeds. Virtually any dog can be a PSD, so long as they are socialized, can do the tasks they are assigned to do, and fit within your lifestyle. Below, I've listed the traits I initially wanted in my PSD, and brought to the table while looking for just the right breed:

Size: over 20 inches at the shoulder-I don't want this dog stepped on in a crowd, and would like a dog that people will steer away from in a busy area.

Intelligence: easily trainable, willing to work, and just as willing to lay down and rest with me when I need to.  Not stubborn, can figure out a solution and trouble shoot on it's own.

Coat: Not long or heavily shedding, needs to be soft-no wire-coat breeds.

Loyalty: needs to be a family dog, not a dog that will only tolerate one person. I live in a family with one young child full-time, and five others that come and go. Can be wary of strangers, but not overly protective or standoffish.

Energy level: Must be able to tolerate life in an apartment while able to tolerate long walks (no runs), settle quickly and not yap or dig. Can this dog tolerate a long car ride followed by a long hike, without bolting out of the car and pulling my arm out of the socket? Can it tolerate a long play session at the dog park, without getting into a fight with 5 other dogs?

I spent weeks reviewing my options. I looked at Mastiffs (have owned one, and absolutely loved her), Leonbergers, Newfoundlands, Labradors, Golden Retrievers, Border Collies, Australian Shepherds, Rottweilers, English Shepherds, and several others. Early this spring, there was an AKC sponsored show in Seattle, which Mom and I went to (hell on the anxiety, but a great chance to meet breeders and dogs alike!). I met several breeds, got great info on some that I'd considered, and could now take off the list, added others to the list that I hadn't considered, and met some folks that owned these breeds that could give me insight into daily life and personalities that show breeders couldn't give me. I also got to meet a service dog and her human partner, and got some insight into training, a service dog organization in the area that meets and provides support, training and social opportunities, and some suggestions about sources of dogs and trainers.

I came away from the show a little overwhelmed, but with firm goals for getting my PSD into my life. I walked away wanting a Leonberger as the dog for me, not having done my homework just yet. I've owned a 175 pound dog... You don't go out and get a dog like that without a little bit of research first, starting with finding a good breeder. Move forward 2 weeks, and about 75 hours of internet searching later, and the Leon, magnificent as it is, was off the list. With an 8 year average life span, it's just not a realistic service dog-- Not after you figure 2 years for training and take off 1-2 years at the end for old age, arthritis and giving an old dog a break. We'd barely be done with training and out in the real world before we'd be training the next generation of dog.

So, back to the drawing board, and setting aside breed issues, I'd reset my PDS goal for June of 2012, and focused on working with Mom on finding a suitable pup to round out her pack. Bella's getting on in years, and  while she has great days where she's bouncy and full of life, she also has many days that remind us that she won't be around forever. We went back to Petfinders, checked the classifieds, looked at pet stores, visited local animal shelters, you name it. For about 2-3 months, we looked.

The week before Mother's Day, she found it. The dog she wanted. Well, actually, the ad for the dog she wanted. She called on Mother's Day, found out that the breeder had one tri-color boy left, it fit everything she wanted, and we were off. Bella and Sparky hit it off immediately, and Sparky rode home with us that afternoon. A Cocker Spaniel hadn't been anywhere in my thoughts for a service dog because of it's size and energy level, but Sparky sold me on his intelligence and easy trainability.

 Three weeks later, I called the breeder back, to find out that she had two more litters (one born the day we'd gotten Sparky), and that there was a little black boy who'd been unclaimed so far. I don't know how I knew, or what drew me to him, but when she mentioned the black male, I knew that it was mine. I'd picked out a name for my service dog long before I'd settled on breed or sex, and I knew that the little black male, was Freedom. After talking to Brian and Mom, and thinking for a few days, we went up and visited the pups.

Let me tell you, there's nothing like holding a 3 week old puppy in your hands. It didn't take very long to tell that this little guy and I had bonded. He snuggled up, and fell asleep (not that 3 week old puppies do anything else) with a happy little grunt. I held a few of the other little pups, mostly girls, that were unclaimed, but he was the only one that felt right.

It's been a few months since that first meeting, but Freedom is home now, and my life has been blessed because of this little fuzzy partner. It's not all peaches and roses. He irritates me at times and there are times he reminds me of a reticent toddler. But the cuddly naps, the play times, the times that he alerts to my oncoming anxiety attacks and sticks by my side until the worst is over, make it all worth it.

Freedom is becoming a partner for life. I don't know how much he was aware of at 3 weeks old, but he showed a good deal of connection with each of our weekly visits before he came home, and is still very much attached to both Brian and I (he's showing signs of alerting to Brian's blood sugars at times, as well). Now, if I can just get him to stop chewing on my couch!

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.

Let Freedom Ring... (or in this case, howl)

So, our little guy is growing like a weed. He's gained 1/2 pound since we brought him home from Mom's last week, for a grand total of 4.2 pounds. Freedom is getting leggy and tall, and the 12" collar that I had for him when I brought him from the breeder's (and could fit almost my whole hand under on the last hole) now fits him comfortably.

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.

The Journey Begins...

Let me introduce our "pack" before diving into the journey itself. Our human pack is made up of myself (Jenn), my husband (Brian), our 6 year old daughter (Sam), and my mom (Mormor). We also have my mom's two dogs, Bella (a 13 year old cockapoo) and Sparky (a 5 month old Cocker Spaniel boy). Mom lives about 40 miles away presently, but we're working on shortening that gap in the next few weeks.

I've always suffered with anxiety and depression with varying degrees of severity, but the past 2 years, it's gotten progressively worse, to the point of being classified as disabled. My husband is a type 1 diabetic, and about 2 years ago, I'd started reading about diabetic alert dogs/diabetic service dogs, and we became interested in getting and training one for him. When my anxiety and depression got to the breaking point last year, I stumbled across Psychiatric Service Dogs as both therapy and assistance for those who suffer with debilitating mental illnesses, and began researching this for myself.

Still a bit dubious as to the viability of a PSD for myself, my mom moved to Washington in October of last year with Bella, and we began to notice things right away, such as how much calmer I was when I spent time at Mom's house, and how Bella would react to my impending attacks by climbing into my lap, or pressing up against me in the car when I'd get nervous (also known as "alerting"). I had fewer severe migraines (which generally followed my panic attacks, and lasted for days) as well, when around the dog.

Fast forward a few months, and around March, we decided to ramp up our schedule on my obtaining a puppy for the purposes of training as a PSD. I read everything I could find on the subject, and am still doing my research, even now that my puppy has come home. I read on all my potential breed choices, went to the local AKC dog show, and talked to breeders, and met some of the breeds I was considering. Oddly enough, it was a breed I had not considered -- the American Cocker Spaniel -- that I ended up buying for my pup. Mom had bought from an experienced breeder, and the puppy she got was lively, healthy, smart, and very trainable. He also alerts when I'm beginning to have an attack, and gets me out of the house for the exercise I desperately need to control my depression.

Freedom, my little black Am. Cocker Spaniel pup, was born on Mother's Day, 2011, the day my mom bought her little guy, so there is exactly 11 weeks difference in age between the two boys. I went to meet my boy three weeks later, when we also met a hapless girl Cocker who'd been returned to the breeder for reasons unknown, the former owners swearing she couldn't possibly be pregnant (her bulging belly and swollen nipples telling a very different story).

Freedom and I bonded instantly, and we made the weekly 90 minute (one way!) trek up to see Freedom until last Friday when the breeder said he was finally old enough to come home. The Friday before my birthday, however, we were talking to our now-dear friend, Peggy, who breeds these wonderful animals, about what Brian is looking for as far as color, sex and temperament in his dog, and she mentioned that the lovely returned girl had her pups (half Cocker, half Cavalier King Charles Spaniel). One of the boys is the perfect color, will be a perfect size, and should have the perfect blend for the right personality. Bingo! My darling hubby, being a Dr. Who fan, has named his little bundle Tardis. More on him in another post... *grins*

Freedom has been home for a week and a half now, and is moving along beautifully. He's already progressing on the leash, learning to sit on command, working on "down", crate trained, mostly potty trained (he gets excited, he's 8 weeks old... mistakes do happen!), and we've been taking him to see apartments with us, with great success. He's loving the car rides, and is starting to try to get into the car, but with 4 inch long legs, it's mostly Momma lifting him up, after an unsuccessful attempt.

Last night was his first real trial by fire, pardon the pun. The 4th of July is about the worst possible night for me in the whole year. Freedom, poor thing, couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, despite his best efforts, and stayed perfectly calm through all the bangs, whistles, booms and cracks that had me cringing and crying on the couch. This morning, however, he's refusing to leave my side, my feet, or anywhere close to me. Even his favorite breakfast has barely been touched. He'll train with me, play with me, potty and poo, so I know he's not sick, he's just starting to show he's a working dog, something he's known he was going to be since he was 3 weeks old. Even now, he's laid out on his back, sleeping like a log. But I know that if I move and get up, he'll be on his feet, and right behind me every step of the way. That is how he is, and has been, since I brought him home 10 days ago.