Life on the Leash

There once was a dog from Nantucket …

In fact, there were loads of them. Just returned from the annual family pilgrimage to Nantucket and was able to fulfill my daily dog-petting-quota just by walking down the street or popping into any shop. So many charmers!

This guy is a staple … he can always be found in a store called Wolfhound on Main Street:

Think this pup appreciated my nappus-interruptus?

That’s the thing about shop dogs … because people touch them all day long, many of them would just like you to leave them alone, thank you very little. (For the record, I didn’t touch him, I just stole a few pics.)

This sweetie was all smiles until I started taking photos. She ducked behind the counter and refused to come out until I put it away:

Then you’ve got the dogs that are tied up outside stores, waiting for their people to come out. They’re never happy.

I sat down next to this guy and he briefly acknowledged me, then went back to worrying about his person:

Ok, these guys looked like they didn’t give a crap about being tied up outside the Ralph Lauren store:

Lovely dogs, but what’s up with the medieval looking prong collars? I saw tons of prongs and chokes .. perhaps the island of Nantucket needs a few more dog-friendly dog trainers?

I loved this mellow lab … he was always hanging out, unleashed, at a construction site near our house. He ignored me each time I walked by, until I asked his person if I could say hi. Then he happily came over to meet me:

We had the dock dogs:

And the guard dogs:

And this pup …

Who must go to the same colorist as my nephew:

Then there were the cats … the sweet, adorable cats;

(Yes, she’s sleeping in a store window display.)

Even though Zeke and Sum couldn’t come with me, I managed to get plenty of animal love during the trip …

It looks worse than it actually was.

Yes, my pulpy stump was the result of a dog bite, but not because the dog in question was out for my blood.   This particular pup is perfect in nearly every way but one … he flips out when he encounters other dogs while on a leash walk.  For the purposes of this story let’s call him “Surly.”

The remedy for leash-reactive dogs like Surly is to train them to turn towards their person to collect a tasty treat (I use cheese) every time they see a big scary dog on the horizon.  (Did you notice that I said nothing about bringing about a “calm submissive state?” Take that, TV dog trainer!)  Over time the reactive dog makes the association between the other dogs he’s passing and the treats he receives every time he sees them.  Eventually, the reactive dog will welcome the presence of other dogs thanks to simple logic: other dogs = cheese.

Surly had been making great progress with me, but on this day we passed by a succession of dogs while strolling, culminating in one barky Rottweiler who got a little too close for comfort.  Surly kept did his best to look away from the Rottie and collect his cheese from me, but each time he took the morsel from my hand he clamped down just a bit harder on my fingers.

“I’m nervous.  I’ll keep eating your cheese, but I’m really, really nervous about that nutty barking dog right over there.”

Arousal and stress can turn a normally gentle canine mouth hard, and that’s what happened on this day.  Poor Surly was so freaked out and over stimulated that he accidentally took it out on my fingers.

(Notice the white spots on my pointer-finger nail.  Those are permanent fixtures on that nail due to the repetitive stress of 10,000 dog mouths clamping down on it.)

The wounds cleaned up just fine, and since that bloody day Surly has had many successful, wound-free walks with me.

I stopped by a recent Good Dog Rescue adoption event over at Dogma Dog Bakery in Arlington.

Swoon City.  The place was filled with adorableness.  One of the first faces I fell in love with was this one:

Sweet Koa is a 2-year old former rescue dog – and now a goodwill ambassador of sorts — who is living happily with her new people.   She was at the event hanging out and making friends while her person took care of the logistics of the day.

Koa let me in on a little secret … she said “See that dog over there?  The white one with the spots?  She doesn’t like other dogs too much, so I’m keeping my distance.”

White-spotty dog managed to rise above her anti-dog feelings and didn’t freak out over the close quarters in the store.  Way to go!

This little lady, four-month old Venus, was a parvo pup who made a stunning recovery.

She was decked out for the occasion, but didn’t seem to appreciate her adoption-day finery:

Venus was the youngest pup at the event, and she racked up an impressive array of admirers:

What’s one of the best parts of holding an adoption event at a dog bakery?

Leftovers!

Mary’s goodies prompted many smiles:

And many full bellies:

It’s my hope that by the time you read this post about the lovely Good Dog dogs, every single one of them will have found a new home.  Unfortunately, fate keeps making room for more adoptable dogs, so think about being a hero to a homeless dog!

The first time I met Mabel the Miniature Schnauzer puppy I had no reason to doubt that she was anything other than a Miniature Schnauzer. She was a just a wee bebe, all of 9 weeks old:

I started working with Mabel just as I was casting an Animal Planet special (details to follow) that called for small pups under 16-weeks of age, and Mabel made the cut to be on the show.  How could she not?  Talk about star quality:

I worked with Mabel and her people every Saturday in the weeks leading up to the taping, and each time I showed up it was as if she’d increased in size by two. The size requirements for the show were fairly rigid (the smaller the better), and I began to worry that Mabel’s growth might put her at risk to be cut from the cast.

Thankfully, her growth spurt slowed a tad, and she was still invited to be a part of the show. On the day of the taping the American Humane Rep on set (“No animals were harmed in the making of this program”) spotted Mabel and whispered, “That’s no Miniature Schnauzer!”

“You think so too?! I swear that’s what she’s supposed to be!”

We went back and forth about her size relative to her young age and shrugged our shoulders.

Either Mabel had the world’s largest miniature parents, or someone messed up her paperwork!

I’m working on my first book, and up until 2 weeks ago, this was my office:

The guys would hang out with me on the porch, waiting for something interesting to happen:

When they realized that I was going to be dull for a few hours, they would surrender to sleep:

It was pretty much bliss. The honeysuckle-scented breeze was inspirational.

Then summer came over night and kicked my ass. It went from a temperate 83 degrees to a punishing 95. Even Zeke and Sum don’t want to be outside in the thick heat.

For now I’ve shut down my outdoor office and retreated to Starbucks to do my writing, where the too-loud moog music and lack of canine companionship is killing my muse.

Hoping for a break in the weather …

Does this look like the face of a saboteur?

I vote yes.

Young Bogart was sitting on the couch beside his person as she worked on a sensitive e-mail that was to go out to over 80 people. Every word in the message mattered, and she was completely focused on it.

Bogart wasn’t having it.

He grew restless.

“What about me? Don’t I look cute? Don’t you want to play with me?”

No?

Bogart then opted to streamline the process for his person. One helpful paw swipe later, her message was sent. Pre-spell check. Pre “Did I write “there” instead of “their”?” Pre “Do I really want to send this now or should I sleep on it?”

“Whoops. Are you mad at me?”

Luckily, she had crafted a coherent, mistake-free missive right out of the gates.

No harm, no foul, Bogart.

Has your dog ever “helped” you with an important task?