Dock Jumping Labs ~ 'The Lab Blog'

The significance of DockDogs titles (and record keeping)

2010-04-19T00:53:00.000-07:00

Whew! What a weekend we had! ;D We had a blast; hanging with our friends, it was a really competitive event in every division, played with our dogs, ate good luck brownies, and rang cowbells until the final dog splashed down in the amateur finals.

I've always loved the competitiveness of DockDogs, and love to challenge my dogs and myself by setting a goal each year. Our goal is to always have jumps that are consistently 'just a little bit better' or a improve by 'a lot' :D Maybe cheesy to some people who just say they're 'only' here for the fun of the the dogs. Humbug! I say HECK YEAH I'm here to have fun with the dogs. But....while we're having 'fun', we can be competitive too. In fact I would rather come in 8th place against teams that kick our butt fair and square, than take home all the first place ribbons in an event where we out -jumped all the other dogs by several feet. What can I say....My knees won't let ME compete in sports anymore, but I still like to play hard. So...that's always kind of been MY thought anyhow, but now I'm in a quandary! [note]-I have kept records of every single jump from day one for all of my dogs. Many years later, it's SO COOL to go back and see what we did 8) Henna's first competition jump was 12' 02" in January 2005 (she was just a few months shy of 2 1/2 yrs). She had one more junior jump that day, and finally earned her senior title (2 events later) in March 2005. January, 2006 (3 events later) she hit her first 20+ footer. Henna then went on to earn her master title about 5 months later in June of 2006. In August 2006 she hit her first 22+footer (now THAT was fun day) 8) ;D The ENTIRE next season was just plain weird :-\ She started jumping ALL OVER the pool. Sometimes 15-feet with an occasional 20+footer. But not until on year later in August 2007 did we FINALLLLLLY see some consistency again. She was flying steady around 20'-22' for the remainder of the season, and into the next one. But one morning, in the winter of 2008, she wouldn't get up. She had degenerative disk disease, and had broken off some loose boney pieces on her spine. After a 6 week stint of crate rest, we worked slowly to get her back into shape to play and be a normal dog. Her neurologist recommended we retire her from Extreme Vertical (it was a good thing the new game of Speed Retrieve came out) :D We installed a swimming pool (veterinarian's recommendations don't ya' know ;)). Henna regained her strength by daily swimming, and returned to jumping. Once again her distances continued to improve, and she soon moved from 15-footers and back on up to 22-footers once more. But on July 30th, 2008 she hit a 23+footer, an then a 24-footer on the same day :o We had a BIG party on the dock after that one!!! One more week went by and we went to another event. She hit 3 more big jumps and, after ALL THIS TIME, she earned her Elite Title on August 8th (she was just one month shy of her 6th birthday). Last season I let her fly at 7 events (we did a LOT of traveling last year...LOL). She only hit one elite jump, and her distances are back into the low 20's and even sometimes the high teens. I've had to cut back to a couple practice jumps (and limit her to one wave a day) so that she may continue to play. She's 7 1/2 years old. We have a WHOLE LOT of 'thanks for coming' ribbons (as we call them here in the Northwest) to show for our last year of work. But I still pick up each and every one, print the event date and jump scores on the back, and keep them in a safe place. After all those years of hard work to earn an Elite Title, I've never wanted to take it away from her. She earned it fair and square...so it's all hers! But now I'm starting to wonder......[i]should[/i] I request a decrease in our title? Am I cheating us both out of something we worked so hard for, just so we can get 'places' again during competitions. I just can't make up my mind! ....and these are the things that keep me awake in bed at night.....LOL (how sad is that)! ::)

Another Dip in the Pool (Oso's Rescue - Day 25)

2010-02-12T21:23:00.000-08:00

You were doing so well at swimming, I thought it would be fun to take you for another dip in the dog pool at Bow Wow. But this time I thought it might be interesting to bring Mossy with us.

Being the head bitch of the household, she had a difficult time accepting your arrival. But as the days ticked by, she was warming up. You had taken her cues well, and fell into place in the order of our pack.

You had a slight deviousness about you, though. Usually Mossy would carry the stick or the toy and run through the yard with her head and tail high, begging to be chased. Trying to beat her at her own game, you tried to pick up an even bigger stick and prance back and forth in front of her, sometimes tossing your head playfully side to side. You were antagonizing her and trying to entice her in a game of chase Oso instead. I worked frequently, and the two of you ran large circles through the tall fir trees in our front yard.

We teased Mossy about being beat at her own game. Being a puppy allowed you to get away with a little more than you might have otherwise. I’m certain that if Mossy could’ve rolled her eyes with the proficiency of a teenaged child, she would have. But I think she might have just possibly secretly liked you; even though, from time to time, you were the pestering puppy.

You immediately jumped off the side of the decking at the pool without my coaxing you this time. I was so pleased! You picked right up where we left off the last time we came to the pool. You and Mossy took turns in a high speed game of retrieve; in the pool, fetch the toy, run around the side of the pool, deliver it to my hand, and back in the pool again.

I tried to play with you both alternately so that one was on the deck, and one in the pool. This way I had enough time to ask for a short sit and stay before tossing the toys into the pool. I wasn’t asking you to do anything more than sit, stay, and retrieve at this point. You were still learning that swimming and retrieving could be fun, and that you must bring the toy to me so you can play again. I simply wanted to focus on no more than that concept.

I would say that by now you had this drill down pretty pat, but there was nothing like lots of positive reinforcement to really drive the point home. Besides, you were having a great time!

You and Mossy both swam hard for just over an hour. Going to the pool is much different that a leisurely play at the beach. At least when the dogs are at the beach, they occasionally get out of the water and trot across the sand. At the pool, the majority of the time is spent swimming in the water. It is possible to swim the dogs at the pool for an hour, and expect that they will be pretty much tuckered out for the rest of the day. A tired dog is a good dog!

Keeper of the Squeaky Toys (Oso's Rescue - Day 24)

2010-02-11T22:54:00.000-08:00

This morning it was raining hard again. The dreary weather outdoors was incentive enough to plan for a day indoors to do some work on my computer and just enjoy being home with the dogs. I figured this would also afford you the chance to do something we hadn’t been able to do yet; just hang out around the house without having to bounce off the walls, the furniture, and the other dogs.

You were having a hard time trying to learn to relax when you were indoors. It seemed that most of the interactions you had with the other dogs or us, resembled something more along the lines of Romper Room. You had spent quite a bit of time inside your kennel in your special corner in the living room; especially during your 2 week kennel cough quarantine. You were still in the early stages of the good house-dog manners learning process.

I had a short, 3-foot tether clipped to the corner of your kennel so that you could socialize with the other dogs to an extent. But this also allowed the other dogs to be able to get away when you became just too much. You were still a little rambunctious and would prefer to spend your entire 24-hour day pouncing on top of Buddy, tunneling underneath Mossy’s short belly, and bumping into Henna.

The tether came in handy by allowing me to wait until you were relaxed and calm, then swoop in on you to give you attention and praise for behaving. When you were overexcited, rowdy, or jumping around on the end of your tether everyone in the house was instructed to ignore you. This way, the only attention you got was when you were good!

This was a trick I learned many years ago when Henna was an adolescent dog. We attended a seminar given by an animal behaviorist who had recommended this tethering technique for teaching appropriate household behavior. In our previous house, we had a tether that would clip into an eye bolt that had been screwed into a faceplate in the wall, near the floor.

Every once in a while I would have someone curiously look at the small silver ring that protruded from the wall and ask me what it was for. Once I explained the concept, most everyone ‘got it’. It was an ingenious idea actually. I have no idea where this concept originated, but I had utilized it fairly regularly to teach a dog to be calm indoors. I had even used it to teach a dog not to barge the door when the pizza guy made his delivery to our door.

Now entering her early senior years, Henna was by far the most relaxed and mellow dog in the house. But in her puppyhood, she had been aptly dubbed ‘Devil Dog’ by one of our good friends during a camping trip to the sand dunes of Oregon in an RV. She was about 6 months old during the trip and woke our friend daily by leaping onto his chest and licking his face until she managed to essentially harass him out of bed.

It was because of Henna that I sought out many of the dog activities I still take part in to this day. She had such a surplus of energy that she was in dire need of some sort of outlet; something that would give her direction and teach her focus.

Henna was a good training tool for me. She was a quick learner which made her fairly easy to train. This allowed me to get my feet wet in more advanced levels of training that I hadn't done before. The problem with this, though, was that I made many mistakes along the way, and still ended up with a dog that essentially made me look good in competitions. I know now that I had been spoiled! I didn't realize the extent of my spoiling until years later when we acquired our second Chocolate Labrador, Mossy. Mossy took considerably more time, patience, and a multitude of creative approaches to the same point across.

You were considerably more mellow at 8 months than any of the other dogs. But since training is a lifelong work in progress, I was certain that someday down the road I'd be comparing your personality, energy level, and training stories too. But with the day's soaking wet weather, I was ready to spend the day watching you do your thing, and be there to guide you into appropriate inside play.

I was time. For the first time since you arrived, I was about to give you free access to the toys. I opened up the sliding door of the coat closet, where I kept a basket of toys. The large wicker basket sat on the floor and was chock full of dog toys that squeaked, tough tugging toys, large rubber chewing toys, and even a few rubber balls that were fairly slime resistant.

You joined the other dogs as they began unloading the toy basket one toy at a time and carrying them to the large area rug in the living room. It looked like we were about to have a carnival with the variety of colorful toys. The all time favorite toys seemed to be the ones with the loudest squeaks. They were made out of various colors of rubber and were more than twice the size of a typical tennis ball. I would sometimes step on them to get the dogs attention. As I released the pressure from my foot, the air would fill the toy and make a loud, hoarse, squeaking sound. This always riled everyone up in a hurry.

A couple of the toys had been de-squeaked. I'm not sure who was the culprit, as they all had a habit of working and chewing on the small cylindrical squeaker stuffed in the end of a toy. Once it had been extracted they usually delivered it to my hand or spit it at my feet, wagging their tail as if I should be so proud of their successful surgical accomplishment.

I never really understood why they did this. Because inevitably, once a toy had been de-squeaked it became much less interesting than a toy that still had it's squeaker intact. They still tossed it about and chomped on it. But I could see them turning it over and over in their mouth, still trying to figure out how to make it squeak. Eventually they would give up and abandon the squeak-less squeaker toy.

I the hours that followed you had a grand time prancing around the house with various toys dangling from your teeth and taking turns at games of keep away with the others. Sometimes you would pant heavily after a good roll on the floor with one of the squeaky toys. Your tongue flopped off to one side and hung out from between those labrador jowls, and you looked silly and happy. Occasionally you laid your back you would hold the toy between your front paws and raise it up in the air; only to drop it again into your mouth.

You played hard for an hour or so before collapsing into stretched out doggy slumber on the floor; only to get up and do it all over again a short time later. You repeated this series of playing and napping all day long.

During one of your naps I noticed that you managed to commandeer all three of the coveted squeaky balls; a yellow character, a pink elephant, and the blue frog. You flopped down on your side, and stretched your legs out in either direction so you were sprawled out across the floor. The three balls were tucked close to your body and moved slightly with the movement of your body and you sleepily breathed in and out.

Miraculously, none of the other dogs made a move to abscond with your loot as you slept. I had just finished cleaning the kitchen countertops and quietly grabbed the camera, hoping to capture the scene. I tiptoed around you, snapping a few pictures.

During a slow, deep and sleepy, breath one the balls rolled over and bumped your front leg. You sat up and immediately glanced, annoyingly, right at me. I couldn’t help but laugh. You calmly repositioned yourself, this time using your paws to gath

er all the balls between your front legs and your chest, and laid your head back down to finish your nap.

Swimming in The Bahamas (Oso's Rescue - Day 23)

2010-02-10T21:13:00.000-08:00

After a couple of unseasonably warm days and blue sky, the temperature had taken a dive. It was below freezing this morning and the grassy front yard was covered in icy crystals. This chilly weather put a damper on our plans for the day.

I was hoping to meet up with Suzanne and Piper sometime this morning. We were planning to head to a lake near the foothills that we had never visited before with the dogs. You still hadn't quite fully grasped the concept of swimming yet, so I was hoping to take just a few dogs; or no other dogs at all. This way we would be able to practice the retrieving game we had played in the living room the previous night into the water.

I throw the toy. You go fetch the toy AND bring it back. We had practiced this many times now, and you were finally starting to catch on. The other night when I was throwing the toy over the bench that I had turned on it's side in the living room, we even played another similar game (but with different rules). In this game I would hold on to your collar when I tossed the toy. I asked you to wait. The idea of this game was to try to teach you to stop, behave, and focus (all at the same time).

Still quite the puppy, sometimes when I would toss the bumper, you would only focus on it for a spit second. Instead you would whip your head from left to right to see if there was anything else going on. Then, deciding that the toy was still the best thing happening at that moment, you writhed and wriggled in attempt to break free to fetch the toy.

But gradually, even this game was helping to improve your focus little by little. Now whenever I tossed the toy, you were beginning to watch it intently. You starred hard at that little toy with the purple rope on the end and waited for me to say the magic word, "Oso"!

Once I spoke your name, you would peel out on the carpet, bail over the bench, and pounced on the bumper with your front feet. You quickly picked it up and made an about face. You always returned a little slower, but without the distractions of the other dogs, you were returning.

You accomplished all these steps while still on a zippy leash. This way I could wrangle you in when you occasionally got a wild hair and decided that a little victory lap was necessary. You pranced across the floor with your head and tail held high in the air. And just out of shear giddiness, you flipped the bumper up above your head and tried to catch it. It's a good thing the other dogs were put away, a least one of them would have simply darted across your path and snagged it right out of the air.

After breakfast I took the dogs out for our usual short walk around the front of the property. It was freezing! The fog was hanging low to the ground and I could feel a slight mist on my already frizzy hair. It was much to cold for first time swimming lessons at the lake. On a whim, I decided the best plan for the day was to make the hour and a half-long drive north to Bow Wow Fun Towne, which had an indoor swimming pool for dogs.

Despite the drive, this was a fairly inexpensive way to spend the day with a dog. Although, the price went up exponentially when we brought all the dogs to swim. Swimming a single dog was quite affordable. The ten dollar cost was well worth spending time out of the weather for me, and letting you swim to your heart's content in the balmy 75 degree salt water.

I had hoped that by brining you swim in the warm water, you might not have to get out for being too cold. Although you were finally growing some muscle mass, and had filled in and bulked up since we brought you home, you could probably tolerate the cold water just fine.

Labrador Retrievers were derived from the St. John's Water Dog (which was actually an ancestor of the Newfoundland Dog) who were bred for retrieving fishing nets and floats from the icy waters of the island of Newfoundland. You were built for cold water. But even though I could pull on a wetsuit as swim in the chilly Puget Sound for an hour, I would still prefer to float around for hours in somewhere like the bahamas (Not that I've ever been able to actually visit the Bahamas; but my imagination of it is nice).

When we first arrived at the pool it was mid-afternoon. Between dragging my feet in the morning, getting the dogs fed and short list of chores done, and picking Suzanne and Piper up the next city over, the day had flown by much to quickly. It took another hour and a half to make the drive up to the city of Kenmore, on the North side of Lake Washington, with mid-day traffic.

The swimming pool was just one part of a doggy daycare facility. It was owned by a woman I met about 2 years prior during a dock jumping competition, hosted by members of the Puget Sound DockDogs club, during a large 2-day street festival. Mary told me that she recently purchased this facility, which came with a swimming pool, and thought maybe it could be a place where some of our members might like to swim.

Although it was some time before I again approached her about the swimming facility, we finally worked out a deal that would benefit her business and provide a place for our DockDogs club to have twice monthly practices. This was a match made in heaven, and afforded dock jumping dogs of all breeds and sizes the opportunity to bring their dogs to closest thing to the Bahamas for dogs in Northwest Washington. The pool was 30 feet long and nearly 20 feet wide. It was a respectable sized pool for most dogs to safely swim or jump into.

Today we were going to Mary's place not to focus on jumping, but to work on more basic skills; swimming lessons. Suzanne brought a change of clothes and was prepared to wade chest high into the pool in the name of teaching you how to swim. I had more confidence, and figured you would eventually get into the water under your own accord.

Over the years I learned that if I was planning any swimming activity involving dogs, that I should plan on being prepared by having a complete change of clothes close at hand. It is inevitable, that if I forget a change of clothes, I will be the one soaked to the bone from top to bottom or the one who was just sent tumbling into the pool. Although I have yet to fall in the pool, I know it's just a matter of time and luck.

In hopes to beat the odds, I have become like a well-prepared scout. I carry a backpack with a complete change of clothes, and at least one extra towel, to every dog activity taking place any distance from my own home. Complete with socks, underwear, shirts, pants, and shoes, I am prepared for the worst and expecting to ward off a potentially soggy ride home at the end of the day.

When we arrived at Mary's, one of her new employees greeted us and checked us in at the front desk. We each paid the ten bucks, grabbed our towels, and walked you and Piper into the pool area. I reached behind me and closed the door to the reception area . The door was meant to prevent dogs from leaving the pool area, skidding across the reception area, and mopping the floor as they go.

Piper was excited, and you were feeding off her energy. You weren't really sure what was so exciting, but you knew there was something, simply because Piper was excited. Piper, being a fairly mellow dog, wasn't always excited. But if there is one thing that she learned to be excited about it was coming to Bow Wow to go swimming with any of her friends.

Around the pool was a large amount of decking. Nearly 10 or 12 feet on two sides of the pool, it provided a good amount of room for the dogs to play around the two sides without bumping into one another.

There was a long ramp that stretched from an area near the door and ran the length of the pool. Where it met the pool decking, there was a small picket fence gate with a latch. I unlipped your leash, and you and Piper ran up the ramp to the pool together. You were following Piper's lead. I unlatched the gate and walked over to an area where I generally stored anything needing to be kept dry. I made sure to remove my cell phone from my pocket and dug through the backpack for the knobby white retrieving bumper we had been working with at home.

I had been using the toy fairly sparingly. I only used it when we played together, then would store it up high on the bookshelves where you could easily see it (but not reach it). Every once in a while you would walk through the living room, pause to stare at it, and think on it for a few seconds. You knew right were it was kept. The end of it stuck out a few inches past the books it was sitting on top of.

Suzanne walked over to the long side of the pool and tossed Piper's toy in the water. Piper gleefully leaped into the pool with a splash, retrieved her toy, and swam to the ramp. The 4-foot wide exit ramp stretched over eight feet long, rising out of the water from the bottom of the 4-feet deep pool and attaching to the decking. This made a nice gentle slope dogs to get in and out the pool.

You cautiously stood at the top of the ramp and waiting for Piper to retrieve the toy for you. It was a pretty grand scheme you had going; or so you thought. Upon exiting the pool, you attempted a snatch and grab from her. But she wasn't going to let you have it. She effortlessly pushed by you, taking the toy back to Suzanne to throw again.

I played a short game of fetch with you across the deck. I tossed the bumper across the carpeted surface three or four times hoping to get you wound up. You were getting much better about letting go of the toy when you returned to me now, and each time I would quickly toss it again as a reward. But this time I had tossed it into the pool just past the end of the ramp. You were going to have to swim for it.

Puzzled about how to go about getting your bumper, you tiptoed down the gently sloping ramp and stretched with all your might trying to reach the toy floating just a few feet away. It took a few times or gradually moving the toy further away, but eventually your body began to float, and you responded by swimming.

You were swimming nearly vertical in the water, splashing wildly with your front paws. This was a tried and true puppy swim. The at it's earliest stages it was awkward and clumsily inefficient. You swam like this the first time you leaped into our pond, having no idea how deep it was. I thought for sure I was going to have to jump in a save you that time. It was shortly after that little stunt that I discovered you had never swam before.

After a few seconds of flailing in the water, something clicked and your body leveled out enough that you began to move forward. I stood on the deck, on the exit ramp, cheering you on. Suzanne was whooping and hollering, "good dog!"

You quickly gathered yourself and made a b-line toward the bumper that had now floated halfway across the pool. You swim wasn't the prettiest one I had seen, but you were figuring it out. And more importantly, you had just retrieved the bumper and had returned to the exit ramp.

Thanks to Mary's tropical paradise, you continued to swim from the ramp time and again. Each time you hit the water with more and more confidence. During one retrieve I had moved to the long side of the pool where Suzanne was working with Piper. You brought me the bumper, and without thinking, I tossed it right back in the pool. Without a single thought, you darted back around to the other side of the pool to head down the ramp. But you had gathered enough speed that you took the corner just a hair too sharp, and slid off the side of the ramp and right into the pool.

Suzanne and I starred at each other and began to laugh. No worse for the wear, you quickly recovered and headed out to the middle of the pool. I figured that after such a brave recovery, you might just be ready to try jumping off the side of the deck for the first time.

The deck around the pool was only about 10-inches from the surface of the water, but that was plenty of height for today. You carried your bumper, and we walked to the opposite end of the pool together. I utilized a park bench sitting on the pool deck to block your route to take the easy way out by going down the ramp.

I teased you by holding the bumper up above your head for you to try to grab and spun in a slow circle while letting you chase and catch it. Eventually I pitched the bumper in the water, just a few feet from the edge. Immediately you tried to make a break for the ramp, but the 'cheater's route' was blocked. You leaned over the edge and began to whine. You REALLY wanted that toy, and the usual route wasn't going to work this time.

I crouched down on my hands and knees, leaned over the edge of the pool right next to you and dangled my fingers in the water. You shifted your eyes back and forth from the bumper to my fingers; watching intently. I splashed water toward the little white toy as it began to float away and continued to encourage you. Your front feet were touching the water in the pool, and your hind end was boosted up in the air. Eventually a combination of gravity and heroics kicked in, and you slid like a seal, head first, into the pool.

Just about that time Mary

Too wet to hold my camera, I found a high ledge near the end of the pool to prop it on to shoot some video of your first water entries. Now that you knew that you could get in the water this way, we practiced this move many times on video. In a matter of short time you were retrieving the bumper from the pool from the dock side. Each time you plopped into the water, your water entry improved. And just as the batteries quick working in the camera, you were beginning to shove off with your hind legs and launch into the pool.

This was a momentous occasion, and now we could add "future DockDog" to your growing resume. I wondered if we would ever look back on this day and recall your first ever plops into the pool at Mary's place. I had really hoped that you found a home within our dock jumping community, so I could see you grow up. I wish that someday you soar high above the swimming pool to the sound of a cheering crowd. That would really be some story to tell. It could happen!

If there is one thing I have learned in the sport of DockDogs, it's that it doesn't matter who you are or what breeding you came from. Every dog has it's day. Someday I hoped you would get your chance to shine with the special people who made you part of their lives. What an adventure you would have!

We played fetch a few more time from the edge of the pool before calling it a day at Bow Wow. You had a successful day, and had improved by leaps and bounds. I made a mental note to bring you back for another swim in the Bow Wow Bahamas soon.

Before we left, Mary stopped by the pool to meet you. Convinced that we should keep you to be part of our family, she teased me about how much time I had spent working on training with you. I assured her that as lovable as you were, I was still searching for the perfect home for you. We were going to miss having you around, but I was determined to make this work out for your sake.

After I dried you off, we purchased a few pounds of the bulk organic dog treats that Mary sold in her store inside the facility. I needed to re-fill the cookie jar at home badly, and this way we could pick out a large variety of cookies to make the stash last a little longer.

I changed into my dry clothes, said our goodbyes, and loaded the dogs into their kennels in the back of the truck and headed for home. Keeping our tradition, we made a stop at Starbucks Coffee on the way home to warm up our insides with a couple of small mochas. We chatted about our swimming session as we drove home, and decided that you and Piper were a perfect match for this kind of play. Though there were a few times when you insisted on retrieving your bumper AND hers all in the same trip, the day was fairly relaxed.

By the time we got home it was late in the evening. You were still tired, and now hungry. I prepared all the food bowls and made you wait with the other dogs while I set them down. You were now able to sit and wait for your food, which meant you could now eat in the kitchen with everyone else.

You occasionally climbed up and curled up on the couch with me a few times throughout the evening. We play rounds of musical dogs as the night wore on. Mossy would lay by me for a few minutes, only to be bullied off the couch by her big brother Buddy. Henna stood with her chin on the cushion, waiting for the invite to come up for a cuddle. You would nearly jump into my arms when it was your turn, but quickly settle down and lay still for a good petting.

It was so nice that all the dogs were getting along fairly decently. My dogs were finally adjusting to the most rambunctious member of the house, and you were beginning to calm down and had stopped playing the part of the obnoxious puppy with no manners (most of the time anyway). But all in all, the improvements were beginning to stack up. You were going to be a wonderful dog for a lucky someone.

This is the way we clean the house (Oso's Rescue - Day 21)

2010-02-08T22:21:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure if it was having a young pup in the house that had kept me so busy, or working on my newest role helping to build new clubs on the West Coast with DockDogs Worldwide. But somehow, over the last two and a half weeks, I had less time to spend cleaning up the inside of the house, and it was beginning to feel like a very large kennel. The time had come to take a day off and whip the house back into shape.

I started in the bathrooms, and worked my way from one side of the house to the other. You followed me into the bathroom and watched as I used a bristle brush to clean the inside of the toilets. Your head bobbed around in a tiny circle mimicking the swishing motion of the brush. I had to remind you that this whole routine was not to entice you into playing with the brush later on.

"Leave it", I said in a cautioning tone. I know we hadn't really practiced that particular word, but I was pretty sure you had an idea of what it meant since you snapped out of your toilet brush trance and took a small step backwards. Everyone in the house uses pretty consistent vocabulary with the dogs, and "leave it" is one of those staple words. It ranks right up there in the usage frequency with "enough" and "ah, ah, ah".

As I moved on to the vacuuming portion of the

housecleaning, you and Buddy did your part to shed as much remaining brown dog hair on the carpets by wrestling and rolling around on your backs on the carpets. Buddy would flop over onto his back and let you pin him down. You happily obliged the invitation and playfully tugged on his ears and chewed on the scruff of his neck. At 2 1/2, Buddy will still quite the puppy himself, and he tolerated your somewhat lengthy and rambunctious game that carried on off and on throughout the day.

Buddy and you had become quite the friends.

Maybe it was because you he was closest in age, that he is a male, or perhaps because you and Buddy have a lot in common. Frankly, it could just be that Buddy was the only one that would put up with that obnoxious puppy behavior without putting you in your place. It was hard to say why the two of you were building a bond, but you were quickly becoming best of friends.

I figured the two of you had conspired to deposit even more on the floor than there already was. Knowing that I would be cleaning the carpets later, I rolled the vacuum slowly over the floor in order to collect as much dirt and dog hair as possible beforehand. By the time I finished vacuuming our almost 1800 square-foot home, I counted 3 times that I had to empty the bin on the vacuum cleaner. I suppose all that dirt and dog hair could've contributed to that feeling of being in a kennel.

I unwound the hose from the vacuum used for cleaning around the edges of the carpet. The corner behind your kennel was thick with dog hair, so I ran the hose attachment along the edge and sucked up every last tuft of the remnants of your shedding. As I began to put away the attachment, something had grabbed your attention. Teasingly, I ran the attachment over your back. You wiggled and could've cared less.

You thought this thing was way cool, and were going to give it a little taste. Little did you

know that as you brought your lips close to the end, the suction would pull at your flaps and your whiskers. But you thought his was pretty fun. So you tried it again several times; lean into the hose, it would start to suck at your snout, pull away from the hose and stare at it while I giggled. I bet you did this at least a dozen times, trying to figure out it's concept. Eventually, you began to lick at it. This was fun, but I had more work to do.

I had really made a mess after I dumped out the container from the vacuum, and decided a paintbrush and a suction tool would be the best way to try to clean off and restore the machine. Being sneaky, you tried to sliver in front of my and nibble on the bristle side of the giant paintbrush. When I was done I tossed the paintbrush a few times for a couple of fun retrieves in the living room.

Later, when I was telling Chris about your funny affections with the paintbrush, he filled me in. Once, when you were a tiny puppy, he was doing some painting work in the apartment you lived. His brushes had been put away for the night, but your owner let you steal the brushes and then chew them up. I could see how you could do that in a matter of minutes with such a soft wood handle. You were quite silly running around with a paintbrush in your mouth.

Later in the evening, I put the other dogs away for a bit and we worked on obedience and some fun drills in the living room. I had a low bench which I had tipped over on it's side. The idea was to practice a bit of jumping, and confidence building by having to get over the bench.

I sat on one side of the bench and tossed the toy over to the other side. The first time, you literally 'stepped" over it many times before you would actually jump. This was going to come in handy later once you learned to swim.

I tossed a bumper over the bench for you for the good part of 15 minutes. In between I gave you loads of belly rubs, then tossed it again. We were building your toy and play drive, and you didn't even know it!

Just before bed it was time to let all the dogs out to relieve themselves before we called it a night. When I called th

em all back inside, they all headed straight to the kitchen for their customary bedtime cookie. I tucked you into your kennel and turned out the lights.

The Very Long Day (Oso's Rescue - Day 18)

2010-02-05T23:03:00.000-08:00

This morning we awoke to sunny blue skies. There was much work that I could do around our five and a half acres, so shortly after breakfast I laced up my boots and headed out to start the day with all five Labradors in tow.

You trotted ahead of me as we walked around the large walking paths that wind down to the ponds and across the property. I chuckled at the sight of your goofy, puppy walk. Your paws looked too big to be on the end of your lanky legs, and sometimes you tripped over them if you didn’t lift them up high enough. At this stage of your growth, you looked more proportionately like a cartoon drawing than anything. Your head seems too big for your body, and your tail is a tad longer than any of the other labs. You haven’t yet grown into your extra puppy skin, and when you run the flabbiness would flop up and down over your neck, back, and sides.

You love to carry sticks. Although I had seen you carry sticks many times before, I noticed that you would carefully observe Mossy when she picked up a stick. You would do a quick visual scan of the area surrounding you, dial in on the perfect stick, hurriedly retrieve it, and then proudly trot close to Mossy to show off your mad stick choosing skills. I think you were trying to impress Mossy.

Mossy is the only dog that was having trouble accepting you into the pack. Although, being a bit of a head case, it was not unusual for her to act this way with such an exuberant new pup in ‘her’ house. In fact she was considerably more tolerable when the two of you played outdoors, as opposed to in the house.

I scouted out my project for the day. I had planned on digging up several small trees and other starts of native shrubs and plants to replant them in large areas that had once been covered in large swaths of Scotch Broom. Scotch Broom is an invasive bugger of shrub that takes over large open areas and causes ecological damage by inhibiting native growth. Upon the blooming of its deceptively sweet, yellow flowers, a large majority of the population clamors to the nearest drug store in search of something to cure itchy, watery eyes, incorrigible congestion, and incessant sneezing caused by its potent pollen. We had cleared the scotch broom early in the fall, but the hilly landscape now needed to be brought back to life with other vegetation.

With a small shovel in hand, I weaved through the forest on an adjacent side of our property. I envied the benefits of your smaller size and four legs allowing you to travel easily through the overgrown forest. A high speed game of chase with other dogs ensued; over, under, and through the undergrowth.

I gathered up the freshly dug bushel of immature plants in my arms and began to make my way out of the forest. Henna followed closely behind, sometimes stepping on the heels of my boots. She often chose to stay close by my side hoping to receive the occasional pet and a nice ear rub without the meddling from the other dogs. As the most mature Lab in the pack, she has figured out when the best time is to seek out the full attention from mom.

As I worked my way around, planting the areas above the lower pond, I let you play freely with the other dogs within eyesight. Every few minutes, I’d glance up to take a head count, “one, two, three, four brown dogs and one black one.”

Every so often I’d see at one or two dogs had gone exploring, and were on the verge of being just too far away. I pursed my lips together and sounded a sharp whistle meant to bring everyone back to check in. You were good about taking the lead from the other dogs and quickly returned to me each time. We played this game of ‘explore and recall’ throughout the day.

If the afternoon I took a break from working and thought I’d try to combine a bit of obedience with the tossing of a few sticks. While the other dogs sat, you pranced around trying to position yourself many times over, hoping to figure out what might trigger the release of the stick. You were starting to figure out that it was a ‘sit’ that actually made the stick go, but you insisted on testing various locations first (as if to find out if it was the placement or the ‘sit’ that made the stick fly).

We had been practicing sit, wait, here, and lay down on a daily basis. In the beginning a sit command meant thirty seconds of wiggling before sitting. Sometimes you would actually sit for half a second, but only to bounce yourself upright and wiggle and prance for another few seconds before I corrected you with an, “ah, ah, ah.”

Molding you like a piece of clay, I would work my hands over your chest and rump and reposition you back into a sit. That was the reason I ended up blowing the dust of an old clicker I had stored in the dog closet; to speed things up a bit. You were very responsive to the ‘click’ and you were quick to associate the sit command with the sound and piece of string cheese. In a few short minutes, in the house with no distractions, your rear end was hitting the ground so fast I could hardly push the clicker button quick enough. It had been a long time since I used clicker training for anything other than party tricks for the dogs. I had forgotten how effective that tiny little tool could be.

I tossed the stick down the hill toward the lower pond, and you darted off after it. It was nearly a hundred yards of steep incline before you reached the edge of the empty pond. Buddy beat you to stick, and you turned to follow him back up the hill. I noted how much your endurance had improved. Today you only shadowed the pack by eight or ten feet. This was so much improved over several weeks ago when you weren’t even half way up the hill, and panting hard, by the time the other dogs were ready to head back down again.

Just as the sun began to fall behind the trees, you engaged Mossy in another game of chase. You were getting faster and starting to learn how to play her game. Our friend Brandon was watching you play with Mossy. The two of you were making large laps around the front yard; her with a stick, and you happily barking as you chased behind her. Mossy is built like a sports car. She is small, sleek, powerful, and built for speed and maneuverability. She loved to run the other dogs through a maze of tall fir trees at the front of the property and make ninety degree turns around the large tree trunks trying her best to peel off her siblings and leave them straggling behind.

When Mossy brought a large stick to Brandon to throw, he instead handed it right to you and said, “GO!”

You may have not known the meaning of what he said, but I watched you peculiarly glance around at each of the other Labs, then directly at Mossy. I swear I could see the little wheels and cogs working in your brain. Then it clicked. You took off like a shot across the grass. As she quickly caught up with you, you made a series of sharp turns each time whipping your head and body away from her. While she paused and formulated a new tactic, you trotted around with your tail wagging wildly. This was fun!

This time Mossy tried to cozy up to you, but you didn’t buy it for a second. Off you went again executing fancy footwork that looked like it was taken right out of an NBA playbook. Eventually you surrendered the stick to Mossy. But I was pretty sure you had scored some bonus points in her book. Not a hackle was raised nor was there a barring of teeth, or even a growl. I was thrilled to see the general happy nature of this pack. Mossy had been maintaining her distance, and still gave you a wide berth when you came through the door, but that space was narrowing by the day.

I built a small fire near the edge of the property. We had some tree limbs to burn up, and roasting marshmallows sounded like a great idea. You were simply worn out. This was the longest outdoor day you had ever experienced, and it was dog heaven. Once I lit the kindling, and heat began to radiate from the fire, you laid down in just a few feet away.

You lay with your nose toward the fire, and I could see your heavy eyelids working hard trying to not close. Eventually you lost the battle, and the warmth and sleepiness gave way slumber. I let you lay there on a thick cover of fallen pine needles undisturbed.

You were very handsome. Your coat, as dirty as you were, looked remarkably shiny still. Your nose was dark and moist, with a light brown coating of dust nearest your snout. I noticed that when your eyes were closed you had bashful, long, eyelashes. Every once in a while your nose would wrinkle up and your paws and eyebrows would twitch. I wondered if you were too tired to dream.

A short while later, we headed to the front of the house where I brushed the dirt out of your coat and wiped you down from head to toe with a clean towel. Elizabeth whipped up a quick bunch of hearty dinner bowls. With such a long day of play, she gave each dog extra kibble to make up for all that burned up energy. You inhaled your food, sipped water from your dish, and then snuggled in on top of the baby blue fleece blanket over the rug in your kennel.

I gave you some loves before we went to bed for the night, and told you what a good dog you were. I left instructions with the family to let you recover from your hard day of play over the weekend. Short plays were okay, but another day like this one would’ve simply been too much at this point. You were doing outstanding, and I didn’t want to lose all the progress you had made.

The realization was beginning to set in that you were ready to go to a forever home, should we happen upon one. There were only one or two serious considerations so far. I had really high standards in mind for you, and planned on sticking to my guns.

You MUST go to a home where you can be indoors with the family. You truly love people (including kids), and are very relational. You need to be by your people.

I feel it is important that your persons take on a doggy activity with you. I don’t care if it’s agility, obedience, DockDogs, or just being a great companion that gets long walks in the evening and a frosty mornings trudging through a field rustling up a pheasant or two. You want and need a job.

I would fail at breeding dogs, because I would be so particular about their new homes. Each one has a personality and disposition to be ‘something’ special. It’s just a matter of spending the time working as a team together to figure out what that special something is. In my heart I believe everyone can have the dog they always dreamed of. Whether they want to achieve a sporting title like in DockDogs or agility, show off a nifty bag of tricks, or just enjoy time with the best friend they’ve ever had, it IS possible. When a person works with their dog for even a few minutes, a few times a day, they instantly begin to build a bond. As the years pass, and time spent daily continues, that bond begins to grow stronger. Pretty soon, their furry pal is as smart as a whip, and they realize that THIS is the PERFECT dog.

Occasionally sleeping on the bed would be great too!

The First Adventure (Oso's Rescue - Day 16)

2010-02-03T09:28:00.000-08:00

After breakfast this morning, you watched my every move with curiosity as I bustled about in preparation for our first big outing to the dog park. We were heading off to Marymoor Dog Park in Redmond, Washington. It's well managed 40 acres makes it the second largest dog park in the region. The park is well known for its fields of tall grass, walking paths, and many swimming holes. Although the park is far from our home it is well worth the occasional visit.

I grabbed a large stack of towels and several leashes and collars from the dog closet. The other dogs, knowing the meaning of these items, pranced with excitement as they followed close behind me. A backpack with a change of clothes for me, a small ziplock back with a handful of dog kibble, a second pair of shoes, another stack of towels and we were almost ready.

I carried Mossy and Buddy's dog crates from our bedroom, through living room and out the front door. Since I hadn't planned on taking your giant wire kennel, that left me with 2 large kennels, and Buddy's extra large (Godzilla-sized) kennel to chauffeur all four dogs. Mossy, being so little, would be able to share a kennel with Buddy. But this would give both you and Henna your own kennels for this trip.

I let everyone outside to make sure they had all relieved themselves before loading them all into the back of the truck. It was drizzling outside, but the sky was bright, and I was hoping the rainy stuff might just let up long for a few more hours while we played.

You watched as first Buddy and Mossy jumped onto the tailgate of the big white truck, and quickly settled into their kennel. Henna, being older and a having a fragile back, was lifted up and placed in the truck. She dove right in her kennel, made a few circles inside, and lay down. Uncertain as to what was next, you looked at me inquisitively. You had only been in the truck twice before; both times for a trip to the vet. Taking note of how much heavier you seemed since the last time I had done this, I picked you up by wrapping my arms around your chest and rump and muscled you up onto the tailgate. Once there, you whipped your head around looking for the nearest escape route. It was perfectly understandable since neither of your last trips in the back of the truck had ended in any sort of fun.

I swung the door of your kennel open and with of a bit of insistence and helped guide your head and shoulders inside. While you weren't exactly the most willing participant in this affair, eventually you resigned and stepped inside on your own. I was sure to remind you what a good boy you were, and assured your that we were headed somewhere much more fun today.

Once the truck was loaded we sped off from the peninsula where we lived and toward the city to pick up a friend. My good friend, Suzanne, and her Black Labrador, Piper, were going to accompany us this day to take advantage of some good ol' off-leash play in the wide open spaces of this park.

Over the last year, Piper had figured out the sound of my big diesel truck. She alerts here mom to my arrival well before my feet reach the doormat of their front porch. Suzanne says she can hear me blocks away, and starts to dance around in anticipation. To her, the big truck almost always means we're going on an adventure.

When I opened up the tailgate, the usual sounds emanated from the back of the truck. Buddy's tail made a loud thump, thump, thump on the sides of the kennel. Mossy whimpered; excited to see her favorite friend. Henna made a small noise to make her presence known, but greeted her friend with alert, sparkling eyes and a happy pant. There was just one thing that was out of the ordinary on this day. The kennel nearest the rear gate held a different brown dog, and this one was barking excitedly. You weren't sure what to think of Piper, and she wasn't sure what to think of you. Your mixed bag of happy and warning barks quickly ceased off after I warned you with a sharp, "Quiet," slapping my hand against the side of your kennel to get your attention.

Piper climbed into her special corner against the cab of the truck on her favorite thick travel blanket. Piper was the only dog in the bunch who became a nervous wreck when put in a kennel, so she regularly rode in the corner behind the driver, tucked close to the other kennels. She was a shy, reactive, rescue dog who would shut down and tremble with fear whenever she was pressured into an uncomfortable situation. Suzanne had made great progress with her in the last few years using positive reinforcement to help her gain confidence and overcome many of her fears. Piper's confidence had improved through involvement with doggy daycare, obedience classes, agility, and DockDogs. Being in Taj Mahal-sized soft crate was now finally acceptable to Piper, but a smaller hard-sided crate still created a unfathomable reaction in which she became overwrought with fear.

As we drove the 45 miles north, Suzanne and I laughed as larger and larger drops of water splattered against the windshield. It was pouring down rain, and I had left my rain jacket at home. This adventure might just be a little wetter and muddier than I had intended. Fortunately the several swimming holes alongside a local river would provide a nice rinse off feature, at least for the dogs, before heading home.

Just as we reached the parking lot a large van, with business logos covering it's sides, pulled up right beside us. I saw the female passenger waving happily at us through the window. She and her business partner, who ran a successful franchise dog training company , were coming to the park to meet with a perspective client. She said she immediately recognized my big white truck with decals and a website address on the windows of the canopy that read dockjumpinglabs.com. We chatted for a few minutes about local dog events and our upcoming DockDogs season.

She shifted her eyes to the back of the truck and said, "How's that puppy? Did you bring him?" I tipped my head back and chuckled. News sure travels fast in the local dog world, I thought. She wanted to know which dogs I had brought to play, and we chatted while I systematically unloaded each dog and asked them to sit and wait at the back truck. I unloaded you last, since I knew you weren't quite ready to manage a sit/stay at the entrance to the dog park.

Once inside the dog park, I knew our friends had work to do, so we said our goodbyes and headed off across "Soggy Doggy Bridge", down a bark covered path, and into the rainy afternoon. You were busy zooming from one dog to the next, saying hello to anyone, with two legs or four, that would give you so much as a hint of attention. A field whistle hung around my neck. My whistle is one of my most favorite tools. With it I can call my dogs without yelling and stop them dead in their tracks with a sit command; a handy skill for them to learn that can be used in an emergency.

Every so often I'd give a few sharp tweets to remind you to take a pause from your busy socializing and check in. You seemed to enjoy Piper's company, too. With a new dog to learn from, the two of you explored tall grass along the fence line together and checked for any signs of the bunny that Suzanne had seen cross the field only a few minutes earlier.

The five of you made quite the striking pack. The sound of twenty paws thundering across the earth reminded me of the sounds one might hear as the horses cross the finish line during a race. Five tongues dangled, with drool flying every which way. Five sets of wild, sparkling eyes danced with excitement. Five sets of soft Labrador ears happily bounced with every step. It was a beautiful thing.

As we made our way around the outside edges of the 40 acres, you came upon a large black Bouvier dog. You danced around him, trying to engage in play. He was nearly triple your size, and startled you when he lunged into a play bow. You quickly turned tail and ran back to the protectiveness of your own pack. We giggled at your silliness.

About half-way through our walk, we came upon a large crossroads. To the right was a pack of nearly a dozen dogs. We suspected they were part of a day care or dog exercise group, since there were only two women with the pack. You wanted to investigate, and sprinted over to check out the fun. You played a quick game of chase, enjoyed a playful wrestle, and even greeted one of the women. I watched from a distance and admired your outgoing personality. I was delighted with your good nature and fairly confident social skills; something that can be a struggle to reestablish with some rescue dogs.

When it was time to move on, I hollered your name and called you to me. You were far enough away that the sound of the rain and noisy play from the other dogs nearby muffled my voice. But I thought you should have heard me. I was prepared to have to walk over and enforce my recall request, but decided to try plan B first. I reached down and brought the bright orange whistle to my lips and gave a series of sharp tweets and paused. That got your attention, and you immediately looked over at me. I stretched my arms out wide and called you loudly, "Oso...Here!" You came bounding across the grass, over the barked path, and straight to me. I gave you heaps of praise. You responded with a happy wiggle as I mussed up the wet fur on your side. Then, quickly, you jetted off to be with your friends.

The last leg of our journey took us by the river within the park. This was the perfect spot to have a last bit of fun and rinse off the mud splatters. A wonderful thing about having dogs with solid brown coats is that most of the time they always appear clean (even when they're actually filthy). Often the best way to tell if they need a bath is to just run a hand over their coat. This usually leads to one of two conclusions; clean and smooth, or filthy and chalky with dust. But when there were spatters of mud, there was no question. You, and your compadres, were taking a dip in the river before even thinking about getting back in the truck.

The other dogs had picked up stray tennis balls along our trip around the park. I had seen you carrying a tennis ball earlier, but you seem to prefer to running with a stick most of the time instead. We kept busy throwing the balls far out into the river. When the other dogs were a good distance from shore we took turns tossing a ball just a few feet from the edge for you to retrieve. You wanted to play so badly, but you were still struggling with that transition from wading to swimming. You were having fun, all the same, so other than encouraging you to retrieve the ball, I didn't push you to swim. All in good time!

Ironically the rain began to let up just as we headed back to the truck. Despite your time in the water, you and your other furry companions still managed to get plenty muddy on the way back to the truck. The green, earth toned, towels I used to dry you off were now covered in muck by the time I rubbed down your undersides. We laughed at the ridiculous pile of dirty towels tossed in a heap in the back corner of the truck. One to wipe off the majority of the mud, a second one to prevent rubbing more mud back into their coats, and yet a third dry towel in the bottom of each kennel to lay on. No need to do the math here. Plain and simple, each outing like this is generally at least one whole load of laundry (and sometimes at least two).

I was cold and wet and now was the time to dig into that nice dry change of clothes. Sitting on the seat of the truck with the doors propped open I carefully scoured the parking lot for any signs of life. With not a single soul in sight, I quickly stripped off my soaking wet jeans, slipped into something a whole lot drier, leaped into the drivers seat, and cranked the heater. Ahhhhh!

It was time to head south. Oso had a quick vet checkup at 4:30; giving us just about an hour to beat rush hour traffic and get there on time. After we dropped off Suzanne and Piper at their home, we made a quick trip across town and arrived at the vet office just in the nick of time.

When I walked Oso through the door, the vet tech stood up and peered over the counter at him. "Oh my gosh," she exclaimed. "Is that the puppy?" She raved about how much better he was looking. She commented on how nice his coat looked, and how much healthier he looked in general. I walked him over to the large scale and had him sit so take his weight; just a little over fifty pounds.

"Wow!" I said out loud, "fifty pounds!" You had gained roughly nine pounds in the last 17 days. The tech made a note in your chart. Apparently the three meal a day program had worked wonderfully. I had done some reading online when I first brought you home about how to safely put the weight back on an undernourished dog. My research had suggested feeding two main meals, and supplementing with a third mid-day meal. Besides the kibble, I had been feeding you cottage cheese, Natural Balance roles, and boiled sweet potatoes. Gradually, as the weight began to level off, the suggestion was to taper off the middle meal. I think we had now reached that point. Success!

Since we were already at the vet, and Dr. W had some open time in his schedule, we decided to take care of Henna's yearly check up. He gave her a clean bill of health and asked me about how her arthritic back was doing. I explained that occasionally, after long hikes or a hard day of play, Henna required her anti-inflammatory pill. But other than that, she was doing spectacular. He warned me to keep her lean and try to keep the dry land jumping and rough and tumble play to a minimum to help protect her prematurely aging joints.

It had been two winters since Henna's incident with her back. After an average day of play in the yard she went to sleep one night on her bed. The next morning I found her laying in the hallway outside our bedroom, and unable to get up. When I tried to pick her up she yelped in pain and snapped at me. We made daily visits to the vet for injections into area around her spine for almost a week. We scheduled a cat scan at a specialty clinic to investigate the damage. She had severe arthritis, and she had broken off a few pieces of bone in her back that had previously been fused together due to arthritis. Her bones were essentially twice the age of the rest of her body. Dr. W feared the degeneration in her spine had gotten so bad it was compressing her spinal cord, and suggested I might consider her quality of life and put her down.

She was unable to stand or walk on her own for nearly a week solid. I would help her up by using a sling under her back hips to help support her enough to stand in order to relieve herself. As a medical professional, I was determined to give medicine more time to work, and hope for the best, before making any rash decisions. There were a lot of teary nights those first few days. Henna was just 5 1/2 years old.

One night, about a week later, I was making up food bowls in the kitchen and just as I turned around, Henna had wandered from her bed in the living room and was standing gingerly in the doorway. I was so thrilled, I nearly dropped her food dish.

We enforced a strict, six weeks of crate rest in hopes that her condition would improve. During those long six weeks, I researched ideas on therapy and information about canine orthopedics. I learned a lot, and began a regular routine of stretching and slow, low impact, exercise to build her stamina and core muscles after her six weeks were up.

Six months later, Henna soared 24' 1" (her farthest jump ever) during a National DockDogs competition in Oregon. Her spirit blew me away. She proved everyone wrong about her original grim outlook and repeatedly broke her own personal best Big Air (long distance) record that entire summer season.

Now, in partial retirement, every single clean bill of health gave us a reason to celebrate. Another year older, another year wiser, and still just a wiley Labrador pup at heart. We shared the news with Chris when we got home, fed everyone dinner, and spent the evening relaxing in front the fire.

Bring on the toys! (Oso's Rescue - Day 15)

2010-02-02T22:21:00.000-08:00

I think today was the day you became a member of the pack. This morning you could hardly wait to be fed. You pranced and danced in you kennel as I prepared all the food bowls in the kitchen. Everyone is on different amounts of food, various vitamins, and one on medication. There is a large piece of paper taped inside the dog closet, just above the food. It reads:

Mossy - 1 flat cup

Henna - 1 1/2 flat cups

Buddy & Chuck - 2 1/2 flat cups

Oso - 2 flat cups (and a daily kong)

Since, at some point, every member of the household has a turn feeding the dogs, the instructions are the best way to assure that everyone gets the right amount of food. During the summer months or at times when the dogs are hunting, competing, or just playing hard, we usually have to feed them at lot more to keep them from losing weight. The note in the dog closet gets changed every few months. I figured out the math one day. During the off season, this equates to 133lbs of high protein performance dog food per month, in addition to the occasional healthy vegetables and meats I might cook. The ongoing joke at our house, is that I cook better for the dogs than for the humans. The truth is that I tend to burn less for the dogs than I do my family. I am a terrible cook, but I can boil up a mean batch of sweat potatoes!

After breakfast we spent some time together inside the house. Your energy level is sky high in the mornings, so it was easier to keep you dialed down a bit when you were alone. For a while I let you play with Henna. But your idea of play was to tuck your butt and do high speed laps through the living room, around the couch, into the dining room, and around the kitchen table. I had to remind you several times that doing your best imitation of Parnelli Jones was not acceptable in the house. Realizing I wasn't going to get any work done, I sent you outside to play with Chuck while our friend Brandon worked near the front of the property. In short order, you had buddied up with Chuck. I even saw the two of you have a pretty evenly matched wrestle. Although, you were now soaked from rolling around on the wet grass.

Eventually I finished my work, and myself, Mossy, Buddy, and Henna headed out to enjoy a rare bit of blue sky and sunshine. I wandered around the yard and watched you interact with the pack.

You had definitely figured out Mossy. You knew that you could chase and play with her, but you should never steal her toy. Mossy is the supreme controller of the toys (except when I have them). You might be able to retrieve it if your lucky, but if you drop it, she will be the one to pick it up and bring it back. If you had tried to pry or tug it out of her mouth; well let's just say you might get more than you bargained for. Mossy has always been a work in progress. She is a social climber, and tries to test her limits every day. Mossy's world is very controlled. Sit and wait for food, must go out of the door after me, bring me the toys, etc. Mossy loves people, and is a compact bundle of love. She likes to try to sneak onto the bed, and under the blankets of our bed at night when we're sleeping.

You were beginning to learn to respect your elders, although, your learning curve was a little less steep with this affair. Although I know that you like to give a hello sniff, you have yet to understand your limits. At 7 1/2, Henna is a patient soul. She will even stand still and let you move all around her, and patiently accept the whole 'once over'. But what you didn't seem to understand is that her rear end smells the exact same as it did 30 seconds ago. There is simply no need to linger; and Henna wholeheartedly agrees. After the 3rd or 4th rear end examination, she simply tires of your lack of civility, whips around, lets out a quick GRRRRR, and simply walks away. Henna is a dynamo at work and at play. But in the house, she is a gentle and loving soul that would prefer to stay constantly by my side. She is a mama's dog.

You and Buddy were quickly becoming good friends. Raised hackles and a certain wariness had given way to a fun game of show and tell. You preferred to spend your time with Buddy. If he went to explore the muddy depths of the empty pond, you followed closely behind. When Buddy got the wild hair to run, you were trailing behind him looking like a extension of his shadow bouncing across the grass.

After the initial bursts of energy were exacerbated, I decided to retrieve some outside toys from the garage. There was a large, hard plastic, red Jolly Ball that could be pushed and kicked around the property, but was too big to pick up in your mouth. There was a smaller, soft purple ball that had been well loved. This one had originally had a handle, but had been mangled over time, and finally cut off by me. And last, but not least, I brought out another, softer Jolly Ball of the same large size as the hard one. But this ball was bright blue with a large handle for carrying. This one was Mossy's favorite. She would carry it around the yard, roll it down the hill, retrieve it, and repeat many times over without the need for a person to throw it. Of course, every so often I would request the toy, carry it around myself, then offer to throw it for her again.

You loved that big red ball. Funny, too, because it was also Buddy's most favorite toy. He yipped and yelped as he chased it at high speeds across the yard. You were never far behind. Sometimes he would shove it way out ahead, and you would run up to and and try to pick it up. It didn't take you long to realize it was an impossible task. This was one toy that could not fall prey to a snatch and grab.

The two of you pushed it back and forth across the yard, through the creek and around the dozens of tiny christmas trees that grew on one side of the property. But inevitably it got away from you both as it sped down the hill toward the mucky pond. In a matter of seconds you were both covered in mud. Buddy would push the ball, creating waves of muddy water in the small remaining puddle in the very center of the pond that splashed the front of you. Oh yes, we were going to have bath night tonight for certain.

I grabbed the camera from the house and snapped some pictures of the five of you playing together. The sunshine was nice, and I was finally able to get pictures with enough natural light to make them not blurry. I got some great shots. My favorite was a completely unplanned fluke. Mossy was coming toward me, carrying her big blue ball in her mouth by it's handle. But just behind her, and off to the side were each of the dogs. They were all coming toward me in a nearly perfectly straight line. As the swaggered closer, I was laughing and imagining the theme song from Clint Eastwood's, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. This will be a picture I will treasure for many years to come.

A few hours before dusk I began to bring one dog at a time into the house for their bath. One at a time, each dog would climb into the tub for me to spray off the mud and dirt from under their coat and suds them up good with shampoo. Buddy was so filthy, that I actually had to wash him twice to before the rinse water ran clear. Buddy really likes to play in the water; no matter if it were a crystal clear lake or simply a muddy 12 inches to splash in. But once thing was for certain. If it was there, he was going to wallow in it. And you, being his protege, went right in along with him.

After dinner, you and Elizabeth played on the floor. You sat adjacent from her and watched intently as she moved chess pieces across the board that was positioned in the middle of the living room carpet. Wanting to play with you, she put away her game and the two of you had some one on one time. You sprawled on your back, with your legs stretched out behind you, resting on her lap. Your tongue happily dangled from one side of your mouth, and you looked a bit silly. I had never seen her interact with any of our dogs in the way she played and cared for you. Undoubtably you and Elizabeth share a special bond.

The night was a pretty routine one, and you were really catching on to the routines. During our dinner, you lay peacefully in your kennel. The new rug I placed on the bottom of your kennel was holding up so far. There were no chewed up pieces....yet. I noticed that ever since our swim yesterday, you were doing a bit more coughing. I was beginning to wonder if maybe you have been just inhaling bits of water when you swam. I would need to keep a close eye on this, and planned on sharing it with Dr. W later this week.

You smelled wonderfully clean, and had much softer fur after your bath this afternoon. Two weeks spent in a kennel make for a bit of a stinky dog. But I was convinced that all the dirt, mud, and grass that you had been rolling in, helped your dry skin and shedding coat. Indeed it did the trick! What fun adventure can we have tomorrow?

Freedom At Last (Oso's Rescue - Day 14)

2010-02-01T20:25:00.000-08:00

Today was your lucky day. It had been almost 14 days since we brought you home, and today you would finally be released from quarantine status. You were about to be sprung from house arrest, and you didn't even know it. If you had known, I wonder if you would have been quite so content in the covered kennel in your special corner of our living room. This morning you were dancing about and singing a whiny tune from the moment you saw me. But after i had taken you out to relieve yourself and fed you your breakfast, you settled down and contently watched the activities of the house from your special corner, that by now had now been dubbed 'Oso's corner of the world'.

I had been thinking about this day all weekend long, and rushed through breakfast and a few morning chores. The day was decent for the time of year. It was a balmy 54 degrees outside; unusually warm for the first day of February. The sky was overcast in traditional Northwest early spring fashion, high cloud cover with sporadic rainy sprinkles every now and again. I was able to stay plenty warm with a t-shirt and a zip-up fleece jacket. In the back of my mind, I was thinking that it was warm enough that we could spend a good long time outdoors today without you getting too cold. After all, you had spent the last 14 days in a cozy warm kennel directly across the room from the warmth of a pellet stove. The stove sat on a river rock hearth in a corner of the living room. Mossy's favorite cedar bed was positioned at the base of the hearth. You could easily see her from your kennel. She would lay, curled up on her bed for hours at a time in the evening, rather impervious to the activities around her after a long day of play in the great outdoors. You would know that type of tranquil rest tonight!

When we headed out the door for the first time, it was just you and I. The other dogs were left in the house leaving us some one on one time to practice a few recalls with the whistle and basically get the ants out of your pants during your first hour of freedom. As we walked toward the upper pond I was met with disappointment. Over the last 4 days, the water had seeped back into the earth and left only a large, muddy, puddle in it's place. Darn! I was so hoping that we could have tried to see if you might swim. I silently wished it would rain again so the dogs would have water to play in. Our largest pond is the lower pond. When full it was nearly 10' deep on one end. This made for excellent swimming opportunities for the Labs. The problem was that once it stopped raining, they quickly emptied; seeping into the ground.

I tossed the bumper across the puddle. It landed in a thick area of mud, and was barely visible. You struggled to find the now camouflaged toy, and skeptically nosed along the edges of the pond. You even stepped on the bumper once without noticing. Finally, a few minutes later you were able to locate your prize. You snatched it right up and came running toward me with wild abandon. The purple rope, that was used for throwing, on the end of the bumper was dripping in muck. As you dashed by me, brushing my leg, my clean and dry jeans were now slathered in mud. I peered down to see a clump of overly slimy mud fall from the side of me thigh, and made a sour face. "Gross", I whispered.

I called you to me, and was pleasantly surprised when you returned right away. We had practiced this many times during our on-leash potty breaks during the last two weeks, but this was really the first time I had tried it with you off leash. You executed it beautifully. Yes! The next hurdle was to see if you would actually give me back the bumper. The first time I tried to take it from you, I was met with a little resistance. But after a few seconds your teeth chattered as you reluctantly handed it over. Yes! I tossed it immediately again. I wanted to remind you that if you gave me back the bumper we could play again; because this is a fun game.

We spent almost half an hour wandering about the property. Sometimes I'd let you run a

round freely, carrying the bumper in your mouth. And when you would come back to me on your own, I would toss the bumper again. You explored the now dry river bed, stepped carefully along the edges of the ponds, sniffed foliage, and rooted under the straw that covered the old logging roads that ran parallel to the ponds.

You were filthy! In a matter of minutes you were covered in dirt and mud. The thick slime that coated the pink of your jowls had dribbled out. And as you ran, jumped, and played strings of it lay across your nose and the top of your head. This has to be a boy thing. Buddy, my 3 year old rescue, is the only male dog I have ever had. The first time he rubbed against me and left a trail of slime that ran up the sleeve of my sweatshirt and stretched across the front, I winced in repulsiveness. I had never seen anything like it. It looked like an army of slugs had just got their marching orders, and they took a direct route across my clothes. Although I have grown used to the 'ick' factor, I am forever grabbing the nearest towel to catch 3-foot long shoestrings from hitting the floor and wiping remaining drool from the bottom of his chin. Forget worrying about

being jumped on when you are greeted at the front door of my house. Instead the focus is to stave off the potential sliming of our guests pant legs.

Reluctant to have to hose you down, I decided to take you on a walk to the nearby lake. Although

the lake is only a few hundred yards from our house, technically it is private. It is a large manmade lake, that belongs to the community of home owners that surround it. On the end

nearest my house is a large grassy area with a picnic table and several benches. From time to time I have taken one or two of the dogs over for a swim. But usually during the day, when fewer people are at home, and never with more dogs so as not to draw too much attention. It is a wonderful swimming spot, and so far our visits there have been uneventful.

We walked through the woods, and you carried your bumper most the way. I had to push some branches aside as I walked. You would sometimes stop and give me a dubious look. The path was perfectly passible for a pup your size, but needed a bit of ducking and brush beating for me to get by. I made a mental note to bring some clippers with me the next time we walked this trail so I could do a bit of trail maintenance. You loved the path through the woods, and bounded happily along.

When we reached the grassy beach area, you carefully tiptoed along the shore; balancing between grass and water. I had discerned that you had never swam before the accidental dip you had in the pond the day after I brought you home. I tossed the bumper parallel to the shore, and only a foot or two into the water. You cautiously retrieved it every time. As you became more brave I began to toss the bumper a little farther from short each time. First three feet, then five, and then about twelve feet. I had accidentally thrown it too far, and you weren't quite that brave. You waded into the water, gradually walking out deeper and deeper until your chest was in the water. I had watched you do this a few times during each of your last retrieves. As soon as you couldn't possibly go any deeper without floating, you would start to paddle. At first your paddling was sloppy and inefficient, but each time it got a little better. Eventually you started to swim more horizontal and toward the bumper. But this time, you gave up before reaching it. I was worried that I had worn out our luck.

I tried tossing some rocks at the bumper, and stood by you on the edge of the lake with words of encouragement. Your sqeaking and intense focus let me know that you truly had the drive and the want for the bumper. But your newly acquired swimming abilities, and confidence were holding you back. I stepped into the water with my black rubber boots and encouraged you again. You waded in a little faster and began to swim for it. By this time it had floated almost 20 feet from shore, and again you turned around before reaching your prize. You were disappointed. I could tell that you wanted it so bad, and just couldn't muster up quite enough courage to go for it. I had resigned to the fact that I was going to have to come back a little later with another dog to retrieve my $5.00 bumper. I buy them in bulk, but still hate to loose a single one.

With your interest finally waning, you retrieved a stick from the shoreline and brought it to me. I tossed it out in the water about five feet, and decided that one short water retrieve would be a nice positive note to end on after losing our bumper. You quickly waded in and swam toward the stick. Still splashing and swimming not-so-effectively, you managed to sink the stick with your front feet. You glanced around, searching for your stick, and gave up. But instead of returning to the shore you made a quick adjustment and headed straight out to the bumper, still floating about 25 feet from shore. I silently watched from shore as you sucessfully grabbed the bumper. "YES", I hollered, "Yes! That's a gooooood boy!" And with that, we ended your first ever successful swim.

We blasted back down the path toward home. I was excited to tell Chris about your swimming adventure. You and the other dogs spent the afternoon hanging out with me as I took turns working in the yard and watching all five labradors interact and play. Although you struggled to keep up with their games of chase, I knew that it would just be a matter of time before you gained stamina and strength. You followed me around and watched intently as I scooped a few days worth of dog poop. I cursed myself for not scooping the grassy areas around the house over the last several days. I had been working many extra shifts at the hospital, and no one was home in time to do the chore before it was too dark outside. If there's something I've learned about this chores, it is that in a multiple dog household, one should never scoop poop in the dark.

A few hours later, a glance at my happy pack of Labs, I realized that bath time was pretty much inevitable. I hemmed and hawed, and begrudgingly headed in for a stack of towels. I simply MUST work on getting a warm water spigot outside! The water from the hose is just too cold on my aging hands, and I have found it more and more difficult to make them work once they begin to turn blue. In a rash decision, I decided that I was simply not in the mood to freeze my hands. I talked Chris into walking with me over to the lake. I decided it was early enough in the day that if we could sneak in in stealth mode, keep all the dogs at a heal until we reached the lake, toss in a stick two or three times, and get out; no one would ever notice.

Chris picked up a couple of sticks on the trail tossed them in when we got to the lake. All the dogs dove right in. Good bye dirt and mud. And, after a time or two, much to our surprise, so did you! We quickly made our escape, and hiked back down the trail to the house. Systematically I dried everyone off, and Chris helped to put them in the house one at a time. You loved being dried off with a towel. You leaned into me, and stretched out as I dried off your neck, head, and ears.

Once inside I decided to let you roam free for a bit. I had everyone's attention as I opened a few pieces of string cheese and started to break them into pieces. You were quick to follow suit when I asked everyone to sit, before I would dole out a single piece of cheese. You took your thimble-sized piece of cheese gently with your lips. Now that you are not so hungry, I have noticed that you are much more gentle with your food.

After your snack, I cleaned out your kennel. You had been busy this weekend. For the first time you showed signs of destructive behavior. You pulled strips of blanket from the ends of the Woolrich blanket that had been in my family for a generation. I winced at the damage and scolded myself for being naive enough to put that particular blanket in your kennel. Shame on me! This time, I instead gave you a smaller fleece blanket. Although, you tend to bunch it up in the back corner of your kennel during the moments of the kennel gymnastics that you seem to be so good at.

Unwillingly, you dawdled into your kennel. But once I closed the door, you flopped down on your blanket and laid your head down. In a couple of hours Chris would feed you, and then I was pretty certain that you would go right back to sleep. You thoroughly enjoyed your freedom, and now you were going to thoroughly enjoy your rest. I headed to town for some errands. When I was there I had planned on picking up a cotton rug for the bottom of your kennel. Maybe that would be a little less appealing to eat, and would stay put even after your gymnastics.

The Threshold (Oso's Rescue - Day 10)

2010-01-29T22:07:00.000-08:00

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)

2010-01-27T23:39:00.000-08:00

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)

2010-01-25T23:21:00.000-08:00

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!

Routines (Oso's Rescue - Day 4)

2010-01-22T20:16:00.000-08:00

Today I think you were starting to catch on to the routine. Your barking was much less, and I was greeted this morning by more wiggles than barks. Everyone in the house likes that accomplishment! Once we went outside to your special place in the yard, you were prancing around, and nosing at my hands checking for your pink medicine. Well you sure had me figured out. Once again you sucked down every last drop of the liquid, nibbling at the ends of the syringe. What you didn't know, was that I had figured you out as well, and I held firmly to the syringe this time as to prevent you from swiftly removing it from my fingers. When we came back inside I shared your poop story with Brandon. It finally wasn't runny! He was thrilled, of course, that I had shared this information with him at breakfast time. Sometimes I forget that non-medical folks might tend to have a more queasy stomach than mine. At any rate, it didn't bother me in the slightest, and I was tickled about yet another improvement. I had to share it with a couple of our other friends too who had been asking about you. Hey...they asked! I simply passed on the information.

At feeding time I tried to convince you to get in your kennel before I set the food down, but we were not understanding each other very well. I tried the patient approach, and stood quietly with your bowl. You were dancing all around in front of your kennel, but just weren't catching on to the actual 'getting in' part. I thought that with your prior sporadic feedings, that maybe right now food time was too much of an overload in itself. I made a mental note to work on this some more later.

A good amount of whining still ensued again after your meal this morning. But as much as I would have liked to offer you the entire food bin to binge on, I didn't think you quite grasped the consequences of those actions. But no amount of explaining seemed to satisfy you. You are an intent listener. Whenever I chat with you those cute little brown ears perk up and your eyes intently focus on your conversationalist. And then just like you understood completely, you always seem to cock your head at just the right moment. Or sometime you may just show your resignation or relief with a deep chested sigh.

When Elizabeth got home from school this afternoon, you were the first one she visited. Not me, or Chris, or even the other dogs. In fact, she put them all outside so you could have her undivided attention without the interference of the 3 other brown noses. I think she really likes you. She washed out your bowls and re-filled your water dish. I saw her running with you in your special area of the yard together. I sure wish I would've had my camera. I saw her enticing you with a large chunk of wood. And then ever so thoughtful, she made sure to put the wood in the trash when you were done playing so as to not leave any germs behind for another dog to find later. I think you two frolicked for nearly 15 minutes together before she brought you back inside.

When I peeked on you again, you were snout deep in the XXL Kong. Elizabeth had made several of them days earlier, and had unwrapped the biggest one of all for you to enjoy in your kennel. I think this one was stuffed with cottage cheese with bits of string cheese and at a lot of kibble. You worked diligently at every angle to reach the stuff stuck to the insides.

I took the afternoon to do some housework before my work-weekend. Your eyes tracked my movements around the kitchen and living room as I picked up school backpacks, a few stray glasses, and small accumulations of clutter. Okay, well maybe you only had one eye on me. Because at one point I looked over and you had curled your paws around your Kong, and pinned it against your chest so it couldn't escape. So, now I knew you were an expert wrestler too.

When it was time to vacuum, your attention turned though. There was no fear in your eyes at all. It was more like a look of amazement. Your whole head moved as I ran the vacuum around the edges of your kennel. Every second or so you would pause to take a few licks from your Kong, look up at me, and then back to the vacuum again. Chris chuckled as we both watched your reactions. I did a few zig zags in front of the kennel door and your tail started to wag. I asked you if you wanted to play.

Usually Buddy likes to follow me around as I vacuum the house. I wondered if you would do the same thing once you kicked your bug. You seem very relational. I bet you would.

Just before 5:30pm you started to dance around. I don't know if you were feeding off the energy of the other dogs, or you really knew it was dinner time. I started putting some salmon oil gel caps in your food to help get your skin and coat whipped into shape. It may take a while. But maybe with spring coming soon you'll just shed off the remaining coarse, lusterless, fur.

Tonight I took you on a walk up the road to a 10 acre vacant property. We worked on a long zippy lead and you fetched sticks. I say fetched because once you picked them up you would muster up a whole lot of speed and try to run right past me. All the while, bucking like a bronco (this must have been a glimpse of puppiness). I only let you get away with it a few times, then decided there was no time like the present to teach you about the actual act of a retrieve. At first you really didn't understand why, when I called you to me, that once you arrived I would take the stick away. Even more puzzling to you was that you had to first sit before I would throw it again. But in short order, and several repetitions later, you still didn't really get it. But you did it anyway.

Since we had some open space, and no other distractions, we also practiced 'wait'. You were already grasping the idea of wait when I would open your kennel door. But soon you realized that 'wait' in the kennel was pretty much the same as 'wait' outside the kennel. A few times you put me to the test. I understood that you were just testing my knowledge of the term 'wait', hoping maybe I'd forgotten. But you weren't quite so lucky. Before we went in for the night you did 4 solid sit/stays in a row while I backed up 10 feet away. I would have to say, that you don't mind the 'wait' part at all. But you would prefer to do it without the 'sit'.

The other dogs had a good play outside at the ponds. The rain has subsided this week, so the water levels had gone down a bit. With more dirt exposed, they got muddier than ever. Some day I'm going to put in a warm water spigot to hose them all off with at the end of the day. Of course, if all goes as planned, we are hoping to plant a whole lot of field grass and clover to help with all the mud in future years. We're shooting for the end of March as long as Mother Nature cooperates.

The evening was oddly uneventful. You quietly laid in your kennel and sometime licked at your now empty Kong toy. I think you are finally catching on to our routine.

Mom's Secret Weapon (Oso's Rescue - Day 3)

2010-01-21T23:58:00.000-08:00

Good Morning Oso! This morning I woke you up bright and early again. Today I had volunteered to cover a shift at the hospital. I needed to get all the dogs fed, out for potty, and settled for the day in a short time. You were quite spunky this morning, but did so good at waiting to come out of your kennel until I invited you. Then when I finally called your name, you sprinted out the door, but did a little less leaping at me this time.

I had been still trying to keep some distance between you and other dogs until you are 100% cleared from the vet with this newest coughing/out of breath thing. Although this morning I didn't hear you cough or breath hard at all. I brought out your bright pink medicine when we went outside. You, who obviously really seem to enjoy your food, lapped the 2.5ml of fluids right out of the syringe

. In fact you wanted to steal the little piece of moulded plastic right out

of my hand. I'm pretty sure that you were just not entirely convinced that it was really all gone, and wanted to check for yourself.

Our friend, Brandon, agreed to take care of you today while I was away at work. I gave him all the directions he would need to make sure you got your food, your medicine, and your regular potty breaks to your own special area of the yard...on a leash of course.

Well things must've gone great. Because you happily wagged your tail and howled at me when I came through the door this afternoon. Other than being a sloppy drinker and making the corner of your crate wet, everything looked perfect with you. No potty accidents in the kennel and still water in the big dish I bolted to the side of your kennel (minus the many lab drooly dribbles underneath).

I brought you some special groceries from store. I once heard someone say to a skinny dog that he 'needed groceries'. This crossed my mind as I was shopping for you at the store. Let's see, we bought cottage cheese, peanut butter, and string cheese. Got groceries! I had another a secret weapon stored in my brain on how to keep you entertained for the next week and a half. A secret that I had learned at the puppy class that I had taken our eldest chocolate lab (now 7 1/2 years) to when she was just a wee little pup. We were going to make the labrador delicacy of frozen stuffed Kong.

There are tons of variations, but tonight Elizabeth and I used cottage cheese and dog kibble. She cram packed it into a giant kong and then placed it in the freezer for a few hours. Once they were frozen, the Kongs are a fun and nutritional way to keep puppy, adolescent, and adult dogs occupied for a long, long, time. And just as I suspected, when I placed the tasty frozen toy in your kennel for the first time, you thought this thing was out of sight!

We laughed as you pinned the black rubber toy under your paws and gnawed away at the icy end that protruded out the bottom. Sometimes you would shove your tongue and lower jaw in so far that you would almost get it stuck trying to get it back out again. But my favorite part was when you had the whole thing stuffed in your mouth. As you paused to watch me, the Kong started to dangle out the side of your mouth like you were enjoying the best cigar ever. You just wagged your tail and went back to the business of trying to extricate every last curd of cottage cheese from the farthest depths of the toy.

After dinner tonight, it was time to clean out your kennel. You were excited to hang out with Chris for a few minutes while I tended to your corner of the living room. The top of your kennel was littered with leashes, a water bottle, lysol wipes, and hand sanitizer. Everyone has been quite diligent about keeping any germs to a minimum. After feeding or watering you, petting you, taking you potty or tending your kennel; I watched everyone clean their hands regularly. I never even had to remind them. Everyone in the house knows that we are trying to keep everyone as healthy as can be.

Elizabeth gave you ice cubes to play with in the afternoon. Rather than chew them up, you enjo

yed pushing them around your kennel and sucking on them. You are a funny character. When I cleaned your kennel I used disinfecting wipes and washed both your bowls. I removed the

damp, fleece blanket and replaced it with a larger wool one that wouldn't get quite as bunched up in the back of the kennel. You were especially thrilled to see that the ends of the blankets had thick wool fringes. They must've been quite intriguing because you mouthed them and twisted your tongue around a few large pieces. I could see right away that they were simply too resistible for you to avoid. I had to re fold the blanket so that the fringes were out of sight, and hopefully, out of mind. That was the end of that.

I got a few

cute pictures of you in your little corner of the living room; inside the kennel. You were still working on the remnants of stuff inside your Kong. I'll have to remember to post them on the internet. I thought you looked better yet again tonight. Baby steps...one day at a time.

I just had to take advantage of a few training moments tonight. At one point, after I cleaned your kennel, it was time to put you back inside. So I grabbed a few pieces of food from a small dish I placed nearby the night before. As I started toward your crate I motioned inside and, in my happiest voice, gave a simple instruction; "kennel". I tossed the pieced of food inside your kennel and tonight you dove right in. After I closed the door behind you, I gave you lots of praise. Later we tried a different game.

You were still keeping busy working on that Kong (frozen stuffed Kongs are THE BEST), when you did a little bit of whining. I guessed that you might need to go out again. So I walked to your kennel and opened the door. Ha! I was so proud. You stayed right there inside, and peered at me with 100% attention. You didn't even try to bolt for the door...Until you saw Henna and Buddy stroll by as they were getting ready to go outside. Just as you looked like you were about to make a break for it I shut the door and gave you a quick reminder, "ah, ah ah". In a split second you tucked your front paw and that little brown nose back inside the crate and sat down. And you waited. And waited. Henna and Buddy strolled by on their way back in, and you waited. A few times I told you that you were good boy for waiting. And you waited. I walked over near the front door and grabbed a camera. Man, you were intense. And you waited. Henna was waiting with baited breath to see what was going to happen next. Buddy laid down about 8 feet from your kennel, and you waited. Wow. I was impressed. I snapped a few pictured of you without having that annoying kennel door in the way...and you waited.

Finally, when I quietly called your name, you stretched out your back legs and nonchalantly walked out. I gave you a good pat on the chest and a few shoulder rubs, then snapped on your leash to go outside. You are so smart!

We walked along the far end of the driveway, and across the dirt road that runs in front of our home. I noticed your tummy still looked a little perturbed with the food switch, but it seemed like things may have been improving. We did a half dozen recalls on your leash, in which you executed with perfection. You sure do get excited when you do good. You can hardly sit still when I try to pet you when giving you praise.

I laid on the sofa with Henna and Buddy for a while and together we all watched you sleep. Your little paws twitched in your dreams and your eyebrows danced an elaborately animated dance above your closed eyes. I wondered what you were dreaming about. I hope you dream of good things.

Exploring in the country (Oso's Rescue - Day 2)

2010-01-20T21:30:00.000-08:00

Today was the first day of the rest of your life. This morning I arose at 5:30 am to check on you and take you out to potty. Just so you know, this 5:30am thing isn't going to be a habit. I am not an early bird, but we wake up at a leisurely time of around 7 or 8. The only time we get up that early in the morning is for DockDogs or hunting.

The moment I flipped the light on in
the hallway, you greeted me with a loud whine/bark sound. I heard the clack, clack, clack of your long toenails as you pranced around in the front part of your kennel. You had bunched your blue fleece blanket to the back of the crate to curl up on. "Those nails are num
ber one on my

list of things to do today", I thou
ght. When I got to your crate, you could hardly contain yourself. I leaned over and peeked inside to see if there were any potty accidents.
None! Yipee!

When I first began to open the door to the kennel, you began to wiggle your way out; nose first. Ha! The oldest trick in the book. I kind of giggled, then quickly closed the door and told you to wait. You had the funniest, most puzzling look, on your cute little face. I swear if you could talk you would've said, "but I gotta pee!" I slowly began to open the door again without a word. Albeit a little slower this time, you started to head right out the door. I closed it on you once again, with a little "ah, ah, ah". There was that lo
ok again (it was s
o hard not to laugh). But this was serious business, and an important lesson to learn. So I put on my best poker face and waited a few mo
re seconds before opening the door one more time. And VOILA! Just in a matter of minutes you figured it all out. In fact I didn't have to scold you at all when I opened the kennel door throughout the day. I reminded you to wait, and you did it with perfection. You are smart!

Once again you woofed down your meal and yelped for more once the bowl was clean. I tried to explain to you that your tummy might be a bit sensi
tive, but I really don't think you cared. I promised to feed you snacks today every time you went in your kennel. You liked that idea, and had fun chasing the kibble of food that skittered across the floor of your huge kennel.

This morning we went outside and I had a chance to take a look at your lengthy nails. Wow, they were long! I decided that using the dremel wod take too long and might scare you, so I decided to make quick work of it by using the nail clippers. I'm sure they could be shorter, but this was definitely much improved. You were fairly patient, but were a curious pup, and kept getting your nose in the way.

Once your nails were trimmed, I noticed that your toes lo
oked better too! They were closer together. Before your
nails were preventing them from touching. I was amazed at the difference, and wondered if had ever hurt to walk on your toenails like that.

I was excited to take you on your first walk around the property. I brought my favorite whistle and thought I'd see if we could work on your recall. I put you on a 25' flexi-lead and off we went down the trails to the pond. You weaved your way all the way down th
e straw-covered road, all the while sniffing the air and prodding every tuft of grass with your nose. We made our way down to the creek, and you lapped up the water like it was your last drink. Another tanker in the house. I'd seen this behavior before with our 3 year old rescue, Buddy. I'd be willing to bet that all those hours in a kennel, he didn't have access to water. It took a long time for Buddy to learn that the bowl is always full. Even now (2 years later) occasionally if I he sees us put down a freshly filled bowl, he'll drink up every last drop.

Intermittently I would blow my whistle, give a quick tug on the leash, and call you to me. We practiced this many times while you explored the edges of the stream and the pond. Pretty soon, just the sound of the whistle seemed to get your attention and you kept happily trotting back to me for a good chest rub.

I decided to let you try a short off-leash play with the other dogs. You were nearly beside yourself when the 3 other dogs went rushing by you the first time. You wanted to play with them all so badly, you had a hard time deciding which one to pounce on first. Unfortunately it was the biggest dog that you picked. You practically jumped over his head and onto his back. With a ninja-like move and one the help of one really l
arge paw, Buddy rolled you. Unscathed, you jumped up, shook off, and tried again. But this time you changed your approach. You looked cute in your play bow with your tail wagging. This approach was much more acceptable to Buddy, and he obliged with a bow in return. The two of you looked quite jolly as you bounded across the yard together. Buddy was much too fast for you though, and would turn around to wait for you to catch up.

As you all ran along the edge of the pond, I was impressed by your impromptu braveness. As the other dogs leaped into the pond, you followed them fearlessly. At least until you realized that it was deep water, and that you didn't really know how to swim. I thought for a moment that I was going to have to dive in to rescue you. Your little brown head went underwater. It seemed like many seconds went by before I saw the splashing of your thin legs and inexperienced paws. But within moments, you reached the shore. You did this twice more, but definitely preferred to play in the shallows of the creek bed.

After a short play
I noticed that you were slowing down and having a hard time catching your breath. I decided it was time to be done. No need to push it on the first day. We would talk to Dr. W later today about your wheeziness. I had to hose the mud off before we went inside, but you didn't mind at
all. I rinsed the mud off your face, and Buddy slime off your head, and told you that someone was going to be very lucky to have you someday.

Later that evening we went for another ride (this time in a crate in the back of the truck) to see Dr. W. Your temperature was much better this time. But when I talked to him about your "hah, hah, hah" breathing I had heard earlier, he decided to put you on antibiotics for kennel cough; Just in case. And bummer for your socialization, because now you will be quarantined from the other dogs for 10 days.

When we got home, I knew I had to keep you entertained in your kennel so that you wouldn't raise a raucus again. I had a long marrow bone in the closet, so I scraped yogurt on the insides of it for you to lick. I think peanut butter would have been a much better choice, but we were out. A few hours later I replaced the bone with a giant Kong toy stuffed with a few large pieces of the Natural Balance food roles. It was funny to watch as you shoved your entire lower jaw into the hole in hopes of getting even so much as a taste. That kept you busy for a while!

This afternoon I posted your story on our blog and on facebook in hopes to find you the perfect home. Our friends say you're the luckiest dog on earth. I think they're right. Now let's see if we can find the persons to match!

Tonight, you were peaceful. You rarely let out a bark or whine, and settled right down to sleep when the lights went out. It only gets better from here little brown dog.

The day we met 'Oso' (Oso's Rescue - Day 1)

2010-01-20T06:46:00.000-08:00

Dear Oso,

When I picked you up last night, I had no idea what I

might be getting in to. What I did know, is that you were desperately in need of a new home, and I could be the person to make that happen. When I arrived I asked about the type of food you were one. Did it have chicken, beef, or lamb in it? She didn't know. She led me to a giant red and white bag in the kitchen. In large red letters, I read clearly the brand "DOG FOOD". Not that there was any brand information on it that I could even find. As I turned the bag over to scan the ingredient list, I began to read, "Corn, corn gluten, corn meal, wheat..." As I finally reached the very bottom of the list I thought I had found what I was looking for. But

all it said was "meat meal". What the hell was that supposed to mean? She said that you eat a lot. "8 cups a day

sometimes", she said. I decided that it just didn't matter, as soon as I got you home, I would start you right away on what I was already feeding my 3 chocolate labradors.

I was warned that you liked to poop and pee....a lot. And that I shouldn't leave you in your crate too long because y

ou'd just poop in there too. I bit my lip and thought to myself about where 8 cups of corn meal might end up throughout a single day. She also warned me about your repeated bouts of diarrhea (vet here we come).

Your eyes lit up when I took you out the door for the first time, and your happy tongue waggled. You seem to be a resilient little pup. As I was nearly dragged to a grassy area so y

ou could relieve yourself, I noticed how thin you were. Your brown coast had lost it's luster, and your hips and ribs protruded out, causing your puppy body to look a bit miss proportioned.

The plan was to pick you up and rush you off to the vet for a health check. The woman assured me that you liked going for a ride. But it took me many minutes and a handful of salmon treats to help to convince you that being in a vehicle was a fun place to be. You were not so convinced. As I shut the top of the canopy, your tiny brown nose tried to squeak through the crack between the canopy and the tail gate. As we drove off, I noticed that your scrawny body was plastered to the floor. I felt terrible for not bringing one of my dog crates for you to lay in. I kept telling myself, that it's only for a short

time, and that it was better to just get this all done now; crate or no crate.

We were early for our vet appointment, so I decided to take you for a short walk at the park to burn off even a little of that nervousness and puppy energy. But you were no match for the leash that came with you. The store brand flexible leash was zipping in and out so fast that it was nearly impossible for me to get the cheap plastic button to stop you before reaching the end. You erratically ran left, then right; snapping the leash each time you came to the end of it. Pop! Pop!

We made one lap of the park (that was all my arm could take with this leash). I'm pretty sure you didn't spend one iota of energy from your youthful stores, but at least you were able to relieve yourself many times over. I remember thinking, "I sure hope he doesn't have a bladder infection". When we were at the park, I finally had a few minutes to look you over. Your eyes looked clear, ears were filthy, nails appeared as though they had never been trimmed, dew claws in place, testicles....just starting to drop, coat feels gross, clumps of hair coming out - needed a brush and a bath badly, skinny...really skinny. But your energy levels were great, and later that night I found out that your appetite was voracious!

When we arrived at Dr. W's office, it took him a minute to realize that you weren't one of my dogs that he had seen before. After all, he sees me with brown dogs on a regular basis. I introduced you to him, and you wiggled and

hopped all over the lobby of the clinic. I told him that we wanted to make sure you were healthy enough to be around the other dogs, and that our goal was to make sure he was happy and healthy enough to find him a new home.

The vet tech knew you! I was happy to hear that I might get some insight to your history, but instead was saddened to hear the sto

ry of your lack of care. Only one set of shots as a pup, and then a few vet visits with bouts of illness of diarrhea and tests for parasites and parvo. Thank God they were all negative. Over the months I had heard of your escapades; Hours on end with your nose in the trash while left out on the patio of an apartment. As a young pup you were left alone in a bathroom, only to shred and ingest the vinyl flooring before eating your way through the bathroom door. The stories poured in during dinner conversation for months. My husband, Chris, told your owner, that if she ever decided to give you up, that he would happily make sure that you were taken care of. For a while, she tried to sell you for money. But that didn't work out either. And now here we were, together, at the vet...learning another part of the story of your life, and the two deceased puppies that once lived in your home prior to your arrival. I learned that you were born in June, and would be about 7 months old. "Ah....just getting ready to enter the teenage years", I thought.

It took a great amount of wrestling to get you still enough to take your temperature. We had to do it twice because it was 106 degrees. Dr. W was straightforward with me. He said you were undernourished and lacked muscle bulk. Probably just the walk around the park, just minutes before our visit, heated you up a great deal. I was instructed to take your temperature later that night, and the next morning. By that evening it had returned to normal. Nevertheless, we were unable to get your shots because of your high temperature. The good news is that your fecal exam was normal and Dr. W cleared your general health to come home with me right away. He patted you on the head and said, "you are a lucky dog'.

I tried to bribe you to get back into the truck, to no avail. No amount of salmon treats were worth that scary endeavor again to you. I finally hoisted you up, and sat with you for a few minut

es before heading home. We both smelled the same kind of bad. Now we both needed a bath. On the way home I swung by to pick up your large wire crate. That was a mistake. I thought maybe I could convince her to let the crate go with the dog. But when I arrived, she insisted I could borrow the crate, but it must be returned. In a hasty decision, I decided to bring it home with us so you might rest more comfortably that night. The crate was empty, with a hard plastic floor. She told me that you don't sleep with a blanket, towel, or bed. Just in the empty crate. I quickly loaded it into the truck and was anxious to get you home and settled in for the night.

At home 6 little eyes, and 3 brown noses peered through the front window as I climbed out of the truck. They watched intently as I opened up the back and hoisted you to the ground. First on our agenda was to b

rush the handfuls of hair from your coat. You wiggled and did a little labrador jig, but then settled down and patiently let me lift the massive tufts of hair from your coat. I kept you on a leash, and we let the other dogs out to meet you. Your eyes lit up and you began to buck like a bucking bronco. I don't know how much experience you had around other dogs, but you were hell bent on having a smashing good time.

Henna, our 7 year old lab, is an excellent pack elder. She let you get away with quite a bit; jumping, spinning, and barking. But when you stepped out of line, she gave you a firm little 'GRRRRRRR' to make sure you knew you had crossed the line of acceptable puppy behavior.

Buddy, is almost 3, and is more than double your size. He wanted to play, but was quickly overwhelmed with your hyperactive energy level, and eventually also informed you of your place in this pack. You picked up the signals quickly, though, and began to approach them all with a little less exuberance each time you greeted them.

The shyest girl in the house is little Mossy. Although you are actually taller than her, she is a solid 10 lbs heavier. She was not about to deal with all this energy this night, and curled up next to her dad on the big chair in the living room. Later, she quietly walked herself down the hall and tucked herself into bed for the night.

With introductions over, and the night coming fast, it was time to get you cleaned up. I took you into the main bathroom, where you willingly climbed into the tub, without bribery, for a bath. Your coat was so coated with oils or grime that I had to wash you twice with flea soap before the water ran clear. You stood in the tub and took it like a champ. When I cleaned your ears, you tilted your head to one side and groaned as massaged in the ear goop. You laid your head on my shoulder when I scrubbed your protruding ribs and checked you all over for any lumps or bumps. I think you actually enjoyed the bath much more than the drying process. When it was time to get out, you managed to slip out of your collar, and ran pell mell through the house. You sure are a wiley little thing!

I set up your freshly sanitized crate in the living room with a blanket and bribed you in with your dinner bowl. You scarfed every last kibble of food and begged for more. You howled, barked, and cried in your kennel looking for attention. But as soon as you were quiet for a few minutes, I would let you out to go potty and give you lots of attention. We repeated this many times until after midnight. Finally, as I turned the lights out for bed, you cried out feebly for a few more minutes before settling down on your blanket and closing your eyes to sleep.

Summer Camp Begins in Hillsboro!

2007-07-24T13:16:00.000-07:00

It’s late on the eve of the beginning of what I have officially dubbed ‘DockDogs Summer Camp’. Although it will all play out a little different than last year’s multiple event weekends, it will still be a blast. Last summer we had nearly 3 weeks of fun in the sun and on the dock with all our other dock jumping pals from around the country. This year we have nearly 4 weeks, but I actually have to come home for a 3 day break in the middle of it all (in other words, I have to show up to work in order to support all this galavanting around the dock).

First stop on the list is the Washington County Fair in Hillsboro, Oregon. We had a great time here last year, and I’m looking forward to visiting again. This was the first fair I had ever been too where someone can purchase beer without having to stay in a beer garden to drink it. We have much different rules about that sort of thing here in Washington. This year I promised myself that I would get tickets to go watch the truck pulls, too. Last year I caught a glimpse of this madness through the back gates, and vowed to grab a seat for the show next time.

This will be our first national event since April, so I’m hoping that Henna will put up some big jumps. But as always, even if she doesn’t we’ll still have blast just hanging with our friends on the dock. Speaking of friends, Henna is all set to wear her Chase Away K9 Cancer donation vest. We’ll be walking around the DockDogs venue in hopes to raise money in the name of our good friend ‘Chase’ who passed away from cancer just one year ago. When she’s not wearing the special vest this upcoming weekend, Henna will be racing the speed gun on the dock for charity. We’ll also be joining Cera Reusser and her labs, Rikki and Smokey on local news station KGW’s morning show on Friday. All the dogs will be getting some early morning air time and letting folks know about the DockDogs event at the fair and the Chase Away K9 Cancer campaign. I am not usually much of a morning person, but I’d walk through fire if it would help raise awareness for K9 cancer. It’s just one of those things that hits so close to home; and I just hate it every time I see a family have to go through the heartbreak of losing a dog to cancer. I believe that I read somewhere that nearly 50% of all dogs die from some form of cancer. 50%!!! That’s just simply unacceptable!

See you on the dock!

No longer a pup

2007-07-18T01:01:00.000-07:00

My first ever blog. Well, we’ll just see how long it will be before I’m too busy to update it!

I can’t think of any more appropriate first topic than my pup.

Yup...that’s her in the picture, playing in the sand at the beach. My little stink, ‘Mossy’ Oak. On August 9th she’ll turn 1 year old. I can hardly believe it’s been almost a year since I brought this fluffy little package of chocolate dynamite home to our family. Well today she went into heat for the first time ever. Wow...she really IS a stink (her timing is impeccable)! Just one week before we take off for the start of 2 months of whirlwind DockDogs events. Looks like she’s going to have to stay home with dad for this first round of events. In addition, I have a seriously bummed out 13 year old with no dog to play on the dock with. Mossy will be my first experience with an in-tact female, so I am trying my best to make sure we do everything perfect. In a few years, my goal is to breed her and keep this wonderful line of field dogs going strong. Today we double checked all the fences in the yard, installed a new, stronger screen, on the back door that we usually leave wide open in the summer, and bought a bag of doggy diapers (now, that was funny). We had a family meeting about Mossy supervision (even in the fenced back yard) and kennel time. The Baird house officially goes into lock down for the next few weeks.

I call her my little ‘stink’, but really I love her to death. She has such a different personality than any other dog I’ve ever had. She’s actually quite independent. But also very serious, hard working, and has a great desire to please. She also just happens to be a great guard dog, quite the bed hog, and a wonderful early morning cuddler.

When I look back at the puppy stages we’ve been through, it’s just hard to believe that that 8 week old pup, cautious and unsure of the waves at the beach, has turned into a confident and strong adolescent dog. Sure she’s still learning her way around the dock and continued obedience (but learning is a continuous process in our home). Even with the encouragement from my breeder, I remember being a bit nervous about taking on one of the boldest dogs of the litter. My older lab, Henna, taught me a lot about working with dogs with an incredibly high drives and a true desire to work and please. Who know’s what the future will bring with dogs for me, but I figure this is all just a learning process for me, too!

When Mossy was 6 months old I took her to an open agility session that was being guided by a friend that I had taken classes from in years past. We both watched in awe as I guided this little pup over equipment and through tunnels that were tripping up experienced dogs. I kept telling her it was the ‘drive’. She kept telling me it was the connection between the handler and the dog. Mossy had a HUGE desire to please (which I’ve decided is slang for ‘she makes me look good’).

Yup...My tiny pup is growing up. And I’m growing right along side of her. Just when I think she’s mastered some new skill I’d been working on with her, I learn that the reason it took her so long was because my body language wasn’t saying what my voice was (chalk up another learning experience for the trainer...from the dog). Sometimes I’m sure that if she could talk, she’d just look up at me and say ‘Duh’. But I’m sure it would be followed by a forgiving tail wag and tongue waggling puppy grin.

Someday I’ll catch on. Then I can look back at yet another dog that has since passed on, and remember all the years of unconditional love and training they have given to ME. My favorite quote is probably one of the most overused one’s ever used; Carpe diem (or seize the day). But if you let time get away from you, which can happen so easily in our hurried society, you will miss the most important days of your life. Even if sometimes those are the days when your furry family members lie peacefully at your feet, wearing little doggy diapers, while you type your first blog :-)

I used to keep a quote on my locker at work for all my co-workers to understand my ‘live free’ attitude. It reads: “The mountains will always be there, the trick is to make sure you are too” ~ Henry Voge l