The Threshold (Oso's Rescue - Day 10)

Boy are you full of it! I knew that eventually you would reach the point of - get me out of this kennel, I'm ready to play. But this afternoon I think you finally met that threshold. Only two more days to go, and it seems that everyone around the house has started growing antsy.

Our friend, Brandon, asked if he could let you out to play today if he promised to take you down to the ponds and away from the house. When I said no, he asked if he could take you to the back side of the property. I had to keep reminding everyone that we had come so far, and didn't want to blow it.

The plan was that just two days from now (first thing Monday morning), you would be sprung from quarantine, and ready to begin socializing with the other dogs. By then, your antibiotics would be complete and (according to most medical estimates) you should be no longer contagious. We will have had you at our house for 12 days then. Time sure does fly!

Today Brandon took care of you, and the other dogs, while Chris and I were away at work. He said that every time he let you outside you bucked and jumped your way out the door and all the way to your potty spot. He said you were "slightly wound up".

As I peered in your kennel this evening to say hello, I noticed that you had a toy inside with you. It was the large remanent of a so-called "tough" toy. When I purchased this toy, I bought into one of the most overstated claims on the package of so many dogs toys, "Tiger tested - dog approved." I figured that seven rows of industrial stitching and material sewn with protective webbing might actually be fairly Lab proof. After all, I saw the video of the tiger playing with the very same toys in a small plastic wading pool with my own very eyes. I was guessing that this particular toy must've passed the tiger test though, because it took our three labradors to pull the stitching offf one end and pull out the squeakers that were once sewn into a specially designed "squeaker pockets" during an impromptu game of keep away. What does that say for Labradors?

Nevertheless, I had to give a fair amount of credit to this particular toy maker. The toys were supposedly non-toxic, had a Lab appeal, and managed to make it past the 60 second mark in the first day (always a good indication of toy longevity in our home). In fact, come to think of it, I believe this toy had actually been around since Christmas, before it was de-squeaked. That's a whole month of brutal abuse!

It turns out that Mossy, Henna, and Buddy had apparently donated the toy. Perhaps they were feeling a bit sorry for you. After all, you had been at our house for 10 days, and had been stuck in his kennel ever since. According to Brandon's report, one of the dogs carried it over and pushed it up against the front of the large kennel, then walked away. Apparently you spent several minutes working it through the spaces in between the wire kennel door. Once you managed to get the toy inside he said that you playfully shook it and chewed contently for a some time.

It sure made me wonder if this was a legitimate gift, or simply the act of distraction of one of the other dogs. I chalked it up to being a gift and thanked the other dogs for being so generous. They just happily wagged their tails at me. Mossy, Buddy, Henna and I headed outdoors for a short walk around the property.

Each day had been growing longer, and staying light later into the evening. But still, once the sun goes down, the darkness came pretty quickly. I wanted to get you outside to let you expell some of that puppy energy before you exploded. I had filled the pocket of my fleece jacket with cut up bits of string cheese and picked up one of our 6' leashes for doing a bit of obedience work.

You had the attention of a flea, so I grabbed an old training clicker I had stored away in the dog closet. The dog closet, as we call it, is a large floor to ceiling cabinet where we keep all the dog supplies in the laundry room. I have found it quite handy to keep the heaps of dog gear stashed neatly in one place. Everyone in the house knows where to look if it pertains to the dogs.

After a short walk and play, I started right in with some basic obedience. I thought we'd start with just an ordinary sit first. I was hoping to work on you learning to sit for longer periods of time; and to sit much faster when asked. I have found that you learn best if I use a combination of techniques. Being a puppy, it was difficult for you to keep your focus for more than a few seconds. Each time you sat, I waited longer and longer before praising you for doing a good job. In any kind of obedience, I know how important it is to have a dog look at it's handler and wait for the next instruction. Otherwise, a dog will be looking off in la la land and have no rapport with the handler.

I pulled out the clicker and asked you to sit. At first I would click as soon as your butt touched the ground. This seemed too easy for you, and it was made obvious by your wandering eyes. Although I don't use a lot of clicker training, there are definitely advantages to using a clicker to capture and mold specific movements or behaviors in a short amount of time. Once you sat, I then waited for your eyes to make contact with mine; then I would press the clicker and give you a treat. Within a short matter of minutes, you would sit, lift up your head, and wait for my next instruction. You were still struggling with the speed at which you performed the sit command, but slowly and steadily you improved.

For the first time ever we performed some basic healing drills while walkikng up and down the gravel road. You would try to lunge forward at first, not understanding the rules. When I said, "heal" that meant that you were to stay right by my side. Speeding off like a horse just out of the gates at the Kentucky Derby, wasn't going work while leash walking. We must've done 20 laps up and down the road practicing the general concept of the word "heal". I didn't do any stopping, or ask you to sit; just to heal (the stopping ,and sitting when stopped, would come later).

Before we went inside for the night I decided to let you cut loose. I snapped on the long retractible leash and revved you up. You played chicken with me for several minutes; running straight at me with your butt tucked, at a high rate of speed. I grrrrrred at you, and ruffled the fur on your head as you whisked by. You would quickly spin around and do it all over again.

You started to pant a little and your tongue was hanging out over your bottom teeth. You were all kinds of wound up, and ready for more. I would've loved to spend more time playing with you, but it was now nearly pitch black outside. I told you of your impending release and reassured you that we were going to plan a fun bunch of days.

After dinner I spent some time disinfecting your kennel again. It was beginning to smell a little doggy in there, and soon the odor would waft to the rest of the house. You mussed up the wool blanket I placed inside. I have no idea what exactly you were doing with your blanket, but in the end you ended up pushing it to the back of your kennel and sprawling out onto your back to watch my every move through the door from a silly upside down position.

Your Kong toys were all empty, so I prepared a special mix of plain yogurt, kibble, string cheese, and natural balance rolls to stuff inside and freeze. I made too much, so I used a spoon to dole out the left-overs to the other dogs in the kitchen and fill a tiny Kong to give to you right then.

You were becoming a pro at cleaning out the inside of the Kong toys. In a matter of minutes you had licked it clean and were giving the once over just one more time for good measure. You finally settled down and passed out on your fresh wool blanket.

Tomorrow I would get to come home early. Our DockDogs club awards banquet was to be held this weekend, and I had re-arranged my work schedule to accommodate my attending the banquet. But this would also mean that I would be able to come home early and spend a few minutes with all the dogs in my life.

Just two more days little guy. We can do it!

The Passing of a Friend (Oso's Rescue - Day 9)

I think today you finally were beginning to lose your patience. It's probably my fault, though, because I only took you on two relatively short walks up the road yesterday. But today you begged to come out and play from early on. After breakfast, you watched from a distance as the other dogs had their morning wrestle in the middle of the living room floor. You whined with jealously when I left a door open and they began to drag a variety of toys from a basket inside the closet. Buddy pranced with glee as he whipped his tough fabric toy high in the air, Mossy was happily pushing a big red ball with her nose across the living room floor, and Henna was joyously squeaking out her favorite tune on one of those rubber squeaky balls that resembled a frog.

Barely able to contain yourself, you started to dig at the corner of your crate. I knew right away that we had only two options to make this work. Put all the toys back in the closet and shut the door, or give you a toy inside your kennel and see what would happen. I opened your kennel door and tossed in am odd shaped yellow toy. It was called a Cuz toy, and it was big and bulb-like on each of it's two sides. This toy made a terribly loud squeak for it's size, and usually all the dogs loved it. As it turns out, you loved it as well.

It took you a while to figure out what exactly to do with it, though. First you picked it up by the skinny bulb and tried to just chew on it. But when you bit down it even a little, it made an incidental 'squeak' sound. Immediately you dropped and starred at it. I stood on the oppostite side of the living room and watched as you turned your head and perked up your ears. You picked it up again and began to chew; A few more squeaks came out. Within a few minutes, you were beginning to make multiple squeaks and starting to shake it. You stepped on it with your feet and even flung it around inside your kennel. This was great! You were having a grand ol' time keeping yourself content, and were essentially playing side by with the other dogs; but from a living room away.

In the afternoon we went for one of our daily walks down to the vacant property at the end of the road. This time I brought a special toy to play with. This was the first time I had tried to play with any toy with you, and I had no idea what to expect. Keeping the zippy leash on you, I tossed the bumper several feet away. You ran over and pounced on the top of your prize. You reminded me of a polar bear raising up to pounce on the ice in search of food from the water below. You liked this game.

Once you picked up the bumper, you began running to me; and then continued on right past me. Subsequently, each time you returned I would reel you in until I could hold you by the collar. I reminded you each time you returned with a simple "here", then gave you a good shoulder and ear rub as a reward. You were starting to get the idea a bit, but this would definitely be an ongoing lesson to learn. Having to pry the bumper from your mouth was going to be part two of today's lessons.

At first, you simply didn't want to give it up. You chased it. You retrieved it. In your mind it rightfully belonged to you. I was sorry to have to be the one to break the news to you, but the law of our pack convey that all toys belong to one person, and that person is me - or any other two legged, upright walking, individual that has opposable thumbs and can utter the words "drop it". This was a hard concept for you to grasp.

At first, we began with the death-grip and run issue. As soon as I would reach toward you, you would jump back and lock down on the toy. This was definitely not acceptable behavior from a Labrador. Not to mention that I was not about to spend my days chasing you across the yard in attempt to retrieve MY toy. So I would grab the toy in one hand, and hold you close to me while firmly holding the leash. I only said one word, "Drop" and waited. While exerting a constant pressure on the toy, I did not tug, pull, or twist. I simply waited. It seemed like an eternity before you finally began to loosen your grip. I bet it was 15 seconds. That was 14 1/2 seconds too long. My goal was to cut that down significantly today by just teaching you that letting go meant that we get to play again.

Each time you released the toy I would toss it straight away without so much as a pause. Within minutes your death-grip had given way to something of a for you to release. Pretty soon, after you would let go of the bumper, I would hold it high above your head as ask you to sit. Another difficult thing to do. You wanted to play so badly. You were a bit stubborn about not wanting to keep your butt on the ground for more than a split second. But I knew that I was even more stubborn than you, and I waited until you sat properly. I tried counting to five before tossing the bumper again. It took several tries before you would actually wait that long. But finally you settled down, and were doing so well that I was able to take a nice picture of your happy smile. "That, my friend is going to find you a home", I thought.

You were so cute! Your ears were alert, and your eyes looked remarkably patient. The expressiveness of your eyebrows appeared matter of fact. Your face looked fuller and your jowls (oh look, you have jowls) were pink and moist. You mouth hung comfortably open and your wet, pink tongue was hanging playfully out over your bottom teeth. The feathers on your chest were now starting to become more visible from the brushings of your coat, and your coloring was beginning to look more uniform. Yes siree, you were looking mighty handsome!

When Elizabeth arrived home from school you rattled your kennel as you wiggled and whined with excitement. Admitedly, you had quickly become her favorite. She practically brushed past the other dogs just to give you some attention. She sat in front of your kennel and fed you kibbles of food and you kissed and nibbled on her fingers when she poked them through the door. She filled up your water dish and took you out for a walk. You had already been out recently to relieve yourself, but this was your special time with Elizabeth. She would like you to stay here forever. I know that when the day comes to say goodbye, she is going to have a hard time letting you go.

In the evening I had to leave the house early to attend our DockDogs Wedneday Night Workout. Teams were practicing learning how to jump of a dock and into a swimming pool for distance. I hoped that one day you could know such fun. For the first time ever I went to a practice without a single dog in tow. Until your bill of health was clear, and the other dogs continued to be symptom free, I did not want to take the smallest chance of infecting another dog with kennel cough. Although, admittedly you are doing quite well, you must stay in quarantine for 4 more long days. I borrowed a few labs of varying color and age to jump off the dock from a couple of my friends to make the time more enjoyable. The time sped by quickly as I chatted with my dock jumping friends, assited many new teams get their first jumps off the dock, and helped some more experienced teams gain more speed, height, and distance. As always, I had a good time.

As I worked on my computer late in the evening, I glanced over to see you sleeping in your kennel. You made deep squeaky noises in your sleep, and sometimes even grunted and groaned. You sleep with your tongue out! As you slept, I thought about the sad news we had heard of the passing of a rather special Black Labrador named Tucker. He was an integral part of the earliest days of the sport of dock jumping. Tucker was a true pioneer, a professional spokes-dog, top notch competitor in his time, and did what many of the DockDogs, canine sporting greats, do best...They make their handlers look good.

It made my heart heavy when I read the news. I first met Tom and his dog Tucker during our first DockDogs event nearly six years earlier. He was in his prime then, and traveled around the country to events and demonstrations with Tom. They were a good team all the way through the end of Tucker's full and adventurous life. There have been many quotes made about the reason dog's lives are so much shorter than ours. Some say it is because they learn to love so much faster, or that they have learned all there is to know about life's lessons. Whatever the reason, it's difficult to fathom how quickly a young pup grows into adulthood. Ever so quickly adulthood then gives way to a more distinguished coat of gray hair. But I believe the most difficult part is watching as our pup's body fails, while the strength of his spirit lives strong . God's speed Tucker.

Are You Awake Now? (Oso's Rescue - Day 7)

Over the last two days I was only able to visit you for a short time before and after work. Although I knew you were being looked after and well cared for by Chris and Elizabeth (the teenager of the house), you lingered in my mind as I worked my shifts at the hospital. I shared your story sparingly with a few of my close work colleagues.

~~~
I’ve begrudgingly accepted the fact that many people cannot or are unwilling to comprehend the love, time, and bond that I share with the dogs in my life. Unfortunately I can say that I know people that refer to their dogs as 4-legged “fleabags”. That live outside in the backyard with no shelter and little socialization or training; only there to meet the needs of their owners during their own moments of self fulfillment. Others see their health care as an endless money pit and are wholeheartedly convinced that that my dogs will leave our family in financial destitution. What’s worrisome to me is that some of these people have dogs of their own. Those people are the ones that I seldom refer to as my true friends, and I struggle to understand their lack of compassion for the dogs that depend on them for their health and welfare. Thankfully a less cynical, more compassionate group, make up the larger majority in my life. I am fortunate to have a wide network of friends that are quick to offer up their support with training, veterinary care and (as of lately) rescue suggestions, laughter, and unwavering friendship. Together they offer an unsurpassed wealth of knowledge and enough support to hold up the mighty Golden Gate Bridge. These are the type of friends every person should have the opportunity to have during a lifetime!
~~~

During the few minutes of down time in between patients, I dove into a new training book that I had recently picked up about training ‘difficult to train’ dogs. A half sheet of light blue notebook paper held my place. On it was written the notes I had taken the morning you came to our home:

Oso - Dr. W @ 4:30
Fecal test. Rabies. Other shots - $120
Age? Food?
Kennels in Eastern Washington?

Every time I opened the book, there was the note staring back at me. I wanted to crumple it up and toss it out. I kept thinking to myself, “What is wrong with people…Why don’t they get it?” What you needed was a do-over. I almost wished I knew less about you, because that would be easier to swallow.

I spent the evening watching the clock slowly tick by. I knew that I’d only have a short time with you when I came home during my two weekend nights, but I wanted to be able to share what little time I had. Elizabeth updated me when I came home each night. Yes, you sucked down all your medicine. Yes, you managed to stay amused with your frozen Kong treats in your kennel. Yes, you had normal potty (and…oh yeah, “gross mom for even asking"). Chris said you are funny. One morning he forgot to put your pill in your food dish, and instead decided to simply offer it to you without any accoutrements. He said you sucked it down like a vacuum. I thought back to all the other not-so-wonderful experiences I have had when trying to get medicine down a sick dog, and laughed at your willingness to eat anything we’ve offered. I felt better knowing you had such good caretakers.

With the passing of every day, I am beginning to see more of your personality. This morning you greeted me with great exuberance. Still groggy from my late night at work, I got up this morning after I heard you whimpering and knew you needed to relieve yourself. I pulled on a fleece jacket over my t-shirt and pajama bottoms, went to your special home in the living room, and sprung you from your kennel. As soon as I snapped the leash onto the silver ring of your collar, you began to bounce around me like a little kangaroo. Before I could lock the button on the zippy-lead you managed to bounce yourself in a complete circle around my legs. As I unwrapped myself, I admired that you had so much more pep in your step than I could even begin to muster this morning.

We had to briefly pause just outside the door where I had left my slip on shoes; the rubber Crocs I wear to work each weekend. I let up the button on the leash as we headed across the dewy grass to your special potty spot. You took off like a bat out of hell, catching my still sleepy reflexes off guard. As you hit the end of the length of the leash, the speed at which you were traveling evoked an undisputable law of physics. Tired and uncoordinated, I was yanked first to my knees then flat on my belly to the ground. I was awake now! I quickly gathered myself, looked around for any witnesses, and called you to me. Oblivious to what happened, you quickly came running over and promptly relieved yourself in the spot which now had a not-so-dewy crime scene-esque shadow in the grass. My light blue pajama bottoms were muddy on the knees, my shoulder was aching, and somehow I managed to take the skin of the top of my now instantly swollen fingers.

What had just happened? A 7 month old puppy with "no muscle mass" just yanked me to the ground fair and square; or did he just have physics on his side? As I scoured the end of the driveway once again for witnesses, I realized this was just more reason to be grateful of our recent move to the country. Not a single neighbor was close enough to peer out their window and have a good laugh at the latest escape on our front lawn.

With a score of Oso; one, and me; zero, the day had begun. I pulled everything out of your kennel and used disinfecting wipes to sanitize every crook and corner. The hollow bone that was once filled with peanut butter and a small Kong toy gave me a glimpse into what you had been up to all weekend. Your bowls were all washed, and your laundry done. We practiced going in and out of your kennel a few time with pieces of dog cookies that were shaped like miniature gingerbread. Your little eyes would stare intently as you waiting for me to call you out of your kennel each time.

In the afternoon hours we walked down near the vacant land at the end of the road. We practiced a few sit/stays on your leash, but you were much more interested in playing and sniffing the large fir tree branches that had recently been blown down in a wind storm. After a few good sit/stays I decided to just let you explore. You picked up sticks and branches. Each time you got one in your mouth you would tuck your butt low to the ground and run like you just robbed the local bank and were making your best getaway attempt.

I did not hear a single cough or funny breathing sound from you and your face looked fuller today. Your eyes did not look nearly as sunken, and the bones that make up your facial features were barely visible now. Your eyes were bright in the sunlight. I can’t wait until the day you can go out and really play.

I whipped out a bright yellow brush and ran it over your brown coat. This time there was much less fur to remove. Keeping your nose to the ground, you hardly paused as I gently brushed over the bumpy set of ribs on your side. You held your head high and kissed me as I brushed your chest. This time I worked carefully around your ears and head; an area that I had not done before. As the sun shone on your freshly brushed coat, I noticed how much shinier you looked than just a few days ago.

When I brought you back inside, you settled in quickly. For more than an hour you played with an empty small sized Kong toy. Sometimes you would turn on your back and chew as you pinned your toy with your mouth on the side of the kennel. You stared at me through the front of the wire door. Lying on your back, you playfully tasted the sides of your kennel and explored their shape with your lips and teeth. You were comfortable, healthier looking by the day, and soon were going to be more discontent with spending so much time in your kennel. I am counting days, too!