small steps

t may not seem like something to get excited about, but I've been hearing sandhill crane calls on my morning walks. They come to me from the south -- perfectly understandable, since the wetlands stretch out from the southern edge of the new development. When i lived in the farmhouse, the sadhills gathered to the east and north of us. It's fascinating to adjust to this new and yet familiar way of recognizing the coming of spring.

Last night, Sadey was surprised to see me head upstairs without closing her gate. She immediately bounded up with us, beating Henry to the top, wondering, I'm sure, what this was all about. I calmly went about my evening routines. As always, she was glued to my side while Henry watched. I'm like the piped piper with these two. 

When I got to the part where I get into my bed, Sadey jumped right up with me. No, Sadey. you stay down on the ground! Just to emphasize that I meant business, I went back downstairs and fetched her bed, placing it at an opposite side of me to that of Henry's. That's Sadey's bed! -- I said. She tried twice more to join me, but got the same response each time. She gave up and settled on the floor. Then on her bed. Then I don't know where because I'd read my chapter for the evening and turned out the light.

Both dogs stayed up in my room with me, until some ungodly hour of the morning, when they both went down. Suit yourselves, pups! It's not time for me to join you. 

But at 6:40 (which is right about when Henry usually wakes me), both were by my bedside, wagging their tails, licking any extremity they could find. I would say that to me, that was absolutely the best way to start my day.

We went for a walk. One dog at a time. As always, Henry is much faster so I take him out first.

Sadey pulls like crazy. I am going to have to work on this and stop being so lazy about putting on her harness. Still, she is a joyful girl and so I direct her this time south. Three blocks down, passing the street with Steffi's House, and we are by the wetlands.

No sandhills at the moment, but a very pretty sunrise over the expanse of prairies and ponds that separate us from the farmette lands.

At home again -- breakfast. Food and treats and chewies -- this is the last frontier I have to someday face with them. Sadey is so food-crazed that it's absolutely necessary to separate them for feedings. This may be a problem this weekend (more on that later), but for now, I can easily keep her feeding station far away from his. And I distract her until he is done.

My own breakfast? Leisurely and very nice.

Doggie day care next, a stop at the Edge to pick up misdirected mail, a few more errands, then home again, from where I call the city water people to tell them that my water at Sally's House tastes like you swallowed water in an over-chlorinated swimming pool. (To their credit, they came over and immediately agreed. Another work in progress!)

My job for the rest morning is to get ready for tomorrow. I very reluctantly agreed to participate in Sparrow's school International Day. I did it two years ago (the school organizes this event biennially) and I thought it was incredibly taxing then. Sparrow begged for me to do it again, even though it would really be just repeating the same stuff and many kids will have heard me do it back then (though of course, I'm sure they will have remembered none of it). But since Sparrow is stuck being the middle child who rarely has me pandering to just his requests, I agreed. Truly an act of grandmotherly love, because really, it is for me an incredibly tough act. What it entails is doing short (maybe 3-5 minutes) interactive enthusiastic, engaging, hyped up presentations on Poland to small groups of kids over and over and over and over again from when the school opens until the noon hour. There are parents/grandparents who stay calm and measured, there are those who show videos and do other kid-focused things to represent their country. My act on Poland is successful only if I put on my highest levels of enthusiasm. I am dead when it's over. 

This year, Snowdrop is no longer in Sparrow's school but she asked if she could help me with the presentations. This was up to Sparrow of course. He was enthusiastic: grandmother and sister both? He is super excited. 

When I pick them up from school, we do not go back to Sally's House. Instead I stay with them in their own home, because in the late afternoon I have to go and set up my Poland poster boards. This, too, seems to be exciting for the kids. I take them with me. We get to work. And watching their enthusiasm makes me feel just a little guilty for feeling so reluctant to do my schtick. 

Home for them, pick up the dogs, then home for us.

As I walk these two mutts (one at a time), I think about the conversation I had with Aimee, the doggie daycare and training school director. I told her that everything concerning the integration of Sadey is not only on track, but right now -- exceeding my expectations. (True, given our rough start, my expectations weren't that high!) All good right now. But Henry himself is not good. And it has nothing to do with Sadey. With her, he is now calm and even playful. But the problem with seeing strangers outside is too severe to ignore. 

Aimee tells me that the trouble with these Texas dogs brought up to Wisconsin is that so many of them (most of them?) have a genetic mix that includes all the guarding and herding breed characteristics. Pit bull. Rottweiler. Doberman. These are serious guard dogs. People in Texas like that and they've let their dogs mix and often run free. Aimee loves Henry (and he loves her right back), but she tells me that it is unfortunately in his genes to love his people deeply and to raise hell when he sees strangers nearby. Can he be trained to let go of this? It's a maybe. With serious training and meds, he can improve. He is just at an age when we have a chance to redirect him, but it will be hard going. 

In the meantime, I am so glad we are out of the apartment situation. The dog parks may have to be off limits for now as well, unless his vet wants to up his meds. I'm just not comfortable with him barking close up to strangers. What about his exercise needs though! Well, there are solutions -- would you believe it, there are expensive solutions for so many of the dog issues! Apparently there is a network of private large fenced yards that you can rent by the hour -- some as big as 3 acres -- to let your dog loose in that private space so they can get their exercise.  When I told Ed this, he was of course full of alternatives (rather than have me pay between $7 and $15 per hour for a yard rental): ask chat gpt what to do! Get a muzzle! Why does my beloved Ed always avoid the advice of experts? I thanked him for the suggestions and booked a consult with a reactive dog trainer and made a note to discuss this further with Henry's vet. Oh, and I downloaded  the Sniffspot App in case the dog parks aren't working for my boy. 

Tomorrow is my super charged day. You'd think we'd all retire early. It never works that way, does it...

with so much love... 

one of those Mondays

When you are working through rescue dog issues, you (unrealistically) assume that the world will go away and leave you alone for however long it takes for you to deal with your pooches. You're stunned when you find out that this is not the case. That in fact there is much to be done, that your dogs are not the center of everyone's life and perhaps not even your own. Of course, at age almost-73, multi-tasking can be a challenge. For example, in younger years, yesterday's family dinner would have been a breeze. I might have even thrown in some intelligent conversation into the mix. As it were, the children's needs, the dogs' craziness, the dinner preparation -- well, my head was buzzing! My son-in-law noted that I had forgotten to give him a plate for dinner. Believe me, it was not intentional! I was watching the dogs, the kids, the foods on the stove. A plate slipped my mind.

Today was supposed to be a breather. Dogs at doggie care, Nina rests with her feet up. Well, one of those two came through.

 

This morning, Sadey and Henry were so tired from yesterday's two visits to the dog park and evening play with Goose, that for the first time since I got Henry, he did not come over to wake me. I was up and showered before he did his morning stretch and greeting.

It's a bitter cold day. We'll be bouncing around like this for a month or more, but it's definitely cold enough for doggie sweaters. Yes, I know, they may be too big. Sizing a dog online is challenging. Neither pooch minds the sweater. They are quickly shedding their Texas roots in favor of Wisconsin habits.

At home, I notice a slight change in their behavior. Henry seems less timid. Sadey appears to be less frantic. They actually have a friendly moment with each other on the carpet. And both stay still for one second with me on the couch. 

 

 

 

Breakfast? So very calm, on all fronts.

And then it's daycare, garbage, groceries, farmette, compost... and so on. I'm sweating on this cold day! But I do pause to check in with Bee in Poland. A half an hour on Zoom is an investment in my sanity. Okay, I'm ready for my afternoon crazies: pick up Sparrow, pick up Snowdrop, bring them to Sally's House...

 

 

 

 

 

... take him to Taekwando, pick up Henry and Sadey, walk both, but separately, come home.

I really do not intend to have both dogs in doggie daycare each and every weekday. For one thing it's crushingly expensive. At least for me it is. But I need to resolve a Henry issue that has been swept under the rug with my move from apartment to house -- his fierce barking at strangers. It doesn't arise as much here, in my new home. No elevators, no corridors. No fear of someone coming at us suddenly, maybe with an ax and a chainsaw to mow us down. But the trips to the dog park are troublesome, because he will find a person (or two) who will set him off, and the barking, loud and in your face (or at least in that person's face), cannot be tolerated. He is my Jekyll and Hyde dog: so friendly toward people he knows! So calm, quiet, respectful, affectionate. But step outside where strangers walk and he is a different pooch. I need to help him through this. Until I do, doggie daycare is in fact a panacea. He gets his stimulation there in the same way he would in a dog park. Without me worrying that he's giving someone a heart attack. And Sadey? I think leaving her there with Henry was transformative. Again, she is far more lively than the shelter implied. She needs the mental and physical exercise as much as he does. At least for now. So daycare it is, for the both of them, for a while at least.

At home, they are at peace again. 

 

 

 

I'm going to leave her gate open for the night. I need to see what happens when both of them are in the same space in their sleep. If it goes well, only the feeding and toy playing will have to be done in separate quarters.

So, we're moving forward! Let's hope it remains forward, with not too many pivots and realignments!

with so much love... 

 

new observations

Wouldn't you think that once you were on a good track with the integration of your second dog into the household, everything would come together nicely and you'd be set? That had been my thinking before Sadey joined our family of now three. 

Things were progressing well. Sadey was now mostly with us -- all day, aside from mealtime and nighttime. There was no fighting. Everything was amazingly peaceful. And it remains peaceful today. So what could possibly be off-kilter? 

At first, I didn't really think much about it. Once peace prevailed, I was satisfied. This morning -- a very very cold morning! -- I take them out as usual...

And I feed them -- no argument there, each eats in his or her space -- and they get their dental chews separately, and of course, Henry plays with his first while Sadey devours hers in seconds, but all this is good. No issues, no squabbles. I eat my breakfast and finish yet another Maeve Binchy book.

 

 

It's the time after -- our peaceful morning rest time -- that I focus again on the details of their dynamic: I had truly believed that if they got over the initial hesitation, they would relish the companionship of the other. Sadey, I was told, would really love a home with a canine sib. Henry, I was sure, needed extra stimulation at home. Being a master of dog friendship, it seemed obvious that a pal would help him pass the time. All this may be true, but the one thing I'm seeing is that these two tolerate each other, but except for the first rather hard play yesterday morning, they do not really attempt to engage each other. A wag, a lick, indicating basic peace, and then they go their separate ways. 

Moreover, Sadey is a total attention hog. Henry watches in the background as she always, always sticks close to me. The minute I sit on the couch, she is there, right next to me. She works hard to be the one I pet and cuddle. Henry stays to the side, with those sad eyes of his looking on.

And finally, the toys have been removed so that there would be no resource fights. The only time they had really squabbled last weekend was over a chewy. I was told to take all the stuff away. This may be nothing much to Sadey. Her foster mom said that they didn't really have doggie toys -- just the occasional bone. But Henry loves his toys and I see him walking from room to room, likely wondering where his squeakies and nylabones have disappeared to. 

So I close Sadey off again and give him his toys and I give her matching ones in her space and I wonder -- is this the way they're going to play going forward? 

I suppose I have gained something: Henry keeps an eye on Sadey and so I cannot say that he is bored. But I'm back to reading books on how to give the neglected non-pushy dog his equal share of attention, because with Sadey in the room, he gets precious little time with me.

*     *     * 

I take both dogs to the dog park again. Ed joins us. It may be very cold (with winds, they're saying it feels like -2F/-19C, for sure the coldest Sadey has ever felt), but keeping the dogs home all day is not a good idea for these two.

(Sadey, your flying ears surely deserve a close-up)

 

 

At the park, both of them release their inner tension. Henry is more relaxed here -- he knows he can run, he knows how to communicate his wishes to other dogs. He's not shy about communicating them to Sadey as well, and she is not shy in her response. I'd say they are, for once, a pretty good match. Both are confident. Both are fast.

They have a fantastic hour of exercise.

I tell Ed I want a timed self-release photo. His answer? -- you'll never get them to cooperate. I laugh -- you just watch! They both want to be in on anything I do.

 

 

 

*     *     * 

In the evening, the young family is here for dinner. I knew this would present many challenges since Sadey can get pretty wild when she is excited. Too, she looks for ways to steal food. Will she let us eat in peace? And finally, the play area is also her quiet time corner, where I can close her off if things aren't going well. How should I proceed if the kids are in there building with legos or lining up their toy cars and toy mice if she needs to be restrained for a while? Finally, how is bringing Goose into the mix going to affect the dynamic? Goose is on great terms with Henry and with most any dog. Can Sadey fit into this rather bonded dog duo? 

All good questions. I'm about to find out!

*     *.     * 

Just before the young family is to arrive, I decide to pack the two dogs in the car and take them for another brief run in the dog park. Honestly, it's easier than walking the two separately and hoping they'll do their stuff promptly. Or at least that Sadey will do her stuff. And I think a second wild run will calm them down for the evening.

It turns out to be a good idea. I didn't have to worry about some dog having an accident and I have to believe that some of Sadey's zoomies had fizzled out of her by the time the gang of six (3 kids, 2 parents and a dog) arrive, because Snowdrop remarks that Sadey is significantly less crazy than when we came home to her after school last week.  

True, Sadey was at first shell shocked by the tumult. Nor was she happy with the arrival of another dog. But, Goose is never phased by dogs and you could say he nipped her assertive stance in the bud. Peace prevailed thereafter. Indeed, it was wonderful for all the dogs (and therefore people): Henry loved having his friend, who understands him so well, to whom he could unload his current troubles. And Sadey found someone who would absolutely snuggle with her as much as she wanted. 

(closed eyes in bliss)

 

 

The kids wisely found their play stations and closed the gate behind them.

 

 

Sadey was so well behaved that I did not have to put her behind bars at all. And dinner? Well, all dogs wished the kids would throw them food, but the young ones had been warned that it was vitally important not to give them anything. Amazing how smoothly the meal progressed!

 

 

 

(no, I did not make pierogi... but I did bring out a pierogi I got for a school presentation this week!)

 

At the close of the evening, my daughter asked if I could manage a photo of her, the kids and the three dogs. I thought it would be impossible. Sadey never sits still long enough to be part of a complicated arrangement. Henry wont jump up on the couch if it's crowded and if she is there. 

Turns out I was wrong.

 

 

It was a great ending to an really challenging weekend. And dare I say it -- I think the toughest days are behind us.   

with so much love...

 

next stage

I have entered the next stage of integrating Sadey into our household. And no, it's not an easy one, though perhaps it'll pass quickly. Yesterday I let Sadey spend the day at doggie daycare with Henry. The report was good, though without great detail. I brought the two dogs home, fed them, and eventually they settled down to rest while I went about my business -- which right now includes watching the Olympics. And as an aside, I'm not necessarily rooting for team USA in men's hockey. I know very little about hockey superstars, but I have heard that the Canadian team has stronger players, and my general feeling is that I want the best to end up with the medal. It's only fitting, dont you think? 

But back to the dogs: I closed Sadey in her room for the night. I didn't want to listen for trouble all night long. She seemed happy enough on her own doggie bed. Henry stayed downstairs keeping an eye on things.

This morning, Henry woke me, I went through my usual routines. I cannot (yet) walk the two of them at once. She pulls too much and I cannot manage her and Henry together. I can barely manage her alone! So, Henry, who is still much faster getting down to business, has first dibs on the walk.

Then Sadey. You'll think, perhaps -- how incredibly boring the views are in the new development. It's a dense community and the plantings (what few you can find) are immature. But it also does depend on which block you're on. These are new structures, surrounded by foundations of not yet built structures, and of course it's a dull landscape at this time of a snow-less year, so there's nothing really to admire, nature-wise. Steffi's House has a better position, but even there, you can't have great expectations. It's not the farmette! Nonetheless, I'm hardly noticing it all. It's not as if the area surrounding the Edge was much better. I have a lovely place to live that's close to the farmhouse and that's great for two large dogs. I am very grateful.

On my Sadey walk, I noticed something: we encountered a dog walker with her pooch. When this happens with Henry, it's almost always a good thing because my boy is very friendly with other dogs. And Sadey? Well, she comes on strong! I wouldn't call it hostile, but it's definitely over the top. I had to apologize and pull her back.

I let her loose in the house then, leash dragging, just in case. And here's the thing: she comes on strong with Henry as well. The foster mom acknowledged that she can play hard. That is putting it mildly. Henry is superb with dogs, but with Sadey, he is on the retreat. Runs upstairs, hangs back, as she glues herself to my side, following my every move.  Breakfast, with Sadey at my feet.

So we have a personality difference here: Henry the cautious one. Sadey, the dog described by the fosters as "pure sweetness" is more like a bulldozer hitting a rough patch of ground. She revs up the engines to get to the front of the line. 

(Sadey, my "medium" sized dog!)

 

This, then, will be stage two of the process of integration.

(Henry: well, he is very tall!)

 

Since Henry could not ward her off (her soft mouth is just a little bit too hard to be enjoyable), I closed her off again so that they both could rest. On the second release, I kept my spray water bottle handy. It's very effective at telling either dog that she or he is playing too hard.

I am hoping that Sadey can calm down once she finds that there is a place for her in this household and that she doesn't have to fight to get it. In the meantime, I have to watch the both of them when they are on the loose. I worried too much about just Henry having adjustment anxiety. Over the week, he relaxed. But she hasn't yet. She's had a lot on her plate in recent weeks! Let's see if I can help her along with this.

 

We are back to cold weather. That's February and March for you: a taste of spring, followed by a return of winter, and then the cycle repeats itself. About half a dozen times. Remember how much I trashed the weather in November? Well, March is only slightly more pleasant. At least by March 31st, a daffodil will bloom outside. But for now -- it's just plain cold. 

Saturday is always dog park day for Henry. I hesitate about taking Sadey to it as well, but in the end I cave and set her loose there as well. Her energy levels, in my opinion, match or even exceed those of Henry. Hers is a nervous energy and she can wreck the living room in two minutes if she has to release it indoors. I cross my fingers that she will be good on the recall. Ed joins me, for companionship and I have to admit, to prop me up if I have a disaster to confront.

You know how senseless excessive worry is? How the things that go wrong are not the ones you fret about? I worried about the two dogs riding together on the back seat. (Since Ed was with us, I could not place Henry up front.) It wasn't an issue. They were just fine! I worried about recall in the park. No problem at all! A couple of practice calls with treats and she was golden!

I worried that Henry would outrun her and she'd be helpless. That was the most ridiculous of all. She is fast. She knows how to nip him right back if he gets the idea that he should put her in her place. There were a few times that I thought they were getting a little intense, but I think it was me being too vigilant. I'd seen that intensity with many dogs and never gave it much thought before. In sum -- they were fantastic. Full of energy. Full speed forward.

And awfully cute in their matching sweaters!

What I hadn't given much thought to is how to get them from car to the park gate -- a distance of just a few steps. But Henry was anxious to get to it and, too, he saw a person getting out of a nearby car, so he launched his most serious (and annoying) barking session. Trying to control him and her as well proved to be too much. I got pulled down to the ground. It was a reminder to absolutely not deal with them getting out of the car at the same time. In the future -- one   at   a   time. 

The rest of the day is rather nice. I wont say that they are best buddies at the moment. Henry looks aggrieved when Sadey hogs the couch seat next to me. (He's very happy when Ed is here, because Sadey keeps her distance still so he gets his full lap!)

 

(two tall guys) 

 

 

And there's no chance of me giving them back their toys or chewies. Sadey is absolutely fixated on getting her share. Of anything, but especially of food. I thought Henry was a voracious eater. She's worse. I give her a jerky, she swallows it whole. You'd think the fosters hadn't fed her at all! But of course, they did feed her -- nursed her from her skeletal hungry self back to good health. Still, when Henry was picked up on the streets of Dallas in September, he wasn't all skin and bones. I got him just a couple of weeks after, and though he was on the slim side and has since added a few pounds, still, he was basically healthy. Not so Sadey. She was picked up in Houston in early November, she was just a ghost of her current self. Her anxiety about getting fed is perfectly understandable. 

 Evening. My dogs are sharing space well. Sure, I pander to them -- I eat food on the island, way out of their reach. I keep toys away. And I close Sadey for the night in her room. Small things that give big results. Tomorrow we'll have a different kind of challenge. More on that -- tomorrow!

With so much love... 

big day

Can a dog be mad at you for "ruining his life?" Consider this: I take Henry out for a walk. Yesterday, today, same thing. Upon our return, he sits down on the sidewalk and refuses to come into the house. Each time, it takes a few minutes to get him to give in, get up and saunter up the steps. Or this: in the morning, with the peaceful Goldberg Variations playing in the background, my dog wakes up from a morning nap and walks over to where I'm sitting on the couch. I pat the cushion inviting him to join me. My big lapdog, right? Henry stands there looking at me, then, as if shrugging, turns away and walks back to the hallway, where he takes up his post by Sadey's fence. When I go up to him to give him a rub and cuddle, he looks at me with eyes that seem to ask -- so what other big changes would like to throw at me today?

Well now, Henry, funny you should ask...

I wake up to no Henry in my room. He's downstairs again, sleeping not far from Sadey. And once more I have to wonder: is it to keep an eye on her, or because they're slowly bonding? There has been no growling or barking at each other ever since that unfortunate encounter over a toy this past weekend. Should I be hopeful? If you must know, I'm very apprehensive. If this day doesn't go well, then I have little hope for a good outcome. 

I take Henry out...

I take Sadey out...

Each time they are with each other in the hallway, they sniff noses, sometimes she gives him a quick lick. That's all good of course, but it's still a far cry from happy dogs, at peace and  eager to play with each other.

Breakfast...

And then they both nap. But by 9 a.m. Henry starts getting restless. This is a dog that needs action pretty early in the day. As does she, except she cant express that well, because she is behind the gate. This is the day I've decided to put them together at doggie daycare.

 

Honestly, I am quite anxious about the car ride -- all 20 minutes of it, some on the highway, on a windy and wet day. They have never been in the car together. What if Henry feels protective about that space? What if they start a fight in the car? I take a spray bottle with water -- it's my only defense.

I have the idea that maybe Henry should ride shotgun. Sadey can take the backseat. There are better dog seat belts for the front, but I didn't think to get one. I fasten the extra tether from the backseat as best as I can and hope for the best. 

I've been parking the car outside, by the front door. But the weather is going to be iffy today, so I parked in the garage. Neither dog is used to this entrance/exit. There are steeper steps, it feels strange. I leash them both and encourage them to the door. Henry sits down in his stubborn stance and refuses to move. Okay, little pup. I'll take Sadey first. She bounces happily toward the car. I fasten her in the backseat. (I have to admit, the seat tether, though good, does not prevent the dog from pushing toward the front via the elbow rest. But there are limits to how far they can go. I'm confident that I can push her back should she try this.) 

Of course, Henry does eventually follow. Reluctantly to be sure, but he does come down and when I open the front door, he hops in, almost happily, as if saying -- I've always wanted to ride up here!

Sadey comes up a little, they sniff, neither dog seems at all agitated or nervous about the others presence. Could it be that the ride will be just fine? Or, will she try to come up again and will he feel threatened? Did I tell you this whole morning is making me exceptionally anxious?

The ride is just fine! Henry enjoys the frontal view, Sadey seems okay back there, with occasional nose pokes to the front. What a relief! 

 

We come to the doggie daycare. Henry bounds in enthusiastically. Sadey walks in tentatively. He is taken away to the playroom. Aimee, the director, asks me to keep Sadey back in the office for a while. They're having an issue with one of the small dogs. She wants to solve it first and talk to me about the day. 

She tells me this -- every once in a while we have days like this: the dogs are all a little off. They're not fighting, but they're on edge. Full of negative energy. Maybe it's the weather! You can never tell. You have to decide if you want to introduce Sadey to dog play today or maybe wait for a better day? I dont really have an opinion on this -- it's your call.

There's no way I want to go through this kind of a morning again. And I want to know how to proceed this weekend. Confining Sadey for two whole days to her little room behind a gate is just not good for her. She hates it and Henry is getting the mistaken impression that she belongs there, not in the house. That if she escapes, she should be caught and returned. God forbid she should make her way to all those couches! She doesn't like this, I don't like it either.  Let's try her in the playroom anyway -- I tell them.

 

When I drive off, the relief is tremendous. Sort of like dropping off your young kids at school on the first day after a long summer vacation at home. It's the first time in weeks that I haven't had packing, moving, unpacking, dog integration on my mind. All anxiety melts away.

You could say to me -- well that was predictable! I knew you were taking on too much! Ridiculous days, all of your own doing. You would be correct of course. But I'll say this much -- even though the integration of these two dogs proved to be a much bigger project (in part my fault --  I rushed things), I still have the hope that this will work itself out and the gain will be far greater than this initial pain. Henry needs more than I can give him on a daily basis. The move to a house was a great idea -- his people anxiety is definitely on the retreat. I still do believe that the companionship of another dog is also a good idea. We will soon find out!

At home, I unpack the last of the boxes of kid books. There wasn't a way to do it before. They're in Sadey's room and I can't give my attention to her and the project of sorting through this last batch of stuff. 

Done! And now I finally sit down, give one big exhale, and call Happy Dogz -- the doggie daycare -- to find out how things are going. 

It's been a couple of hours, but they tell me they haven't introduced her into the great room, keeping her in the time-out zone. Why? Because she is reluctant to give it a try. Now that was unexpected! I saw her as being super into dogs. But perhaps not so many dogs at once? It struck me that she has never been in a situation where she could play with several dozen friendly dogs, all together. Henry took to this without issue. Sadey is holding back.

 

In the early afternoon, a staff member calls from Happy Dogz. Sadey is doing great! At first she played only with Henry and now she is branching out. She's having a wonderful time!

I feel almost as relieved as I did when my daughter's pediatrician got up in the middle of the night and rushed to the clinic to check up on my coughing child. He said then -- she's fine! I felt a swell of gratitude and relief. As I did today. I loved my pediatrician! I love the staff at Happy Dogz!

 

In the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop. Yes, there's a dusting of snow on the ground. Not much. Just a thin shake of powdered sugar.

She has been wanting to visit the farmhouse and I take her straight there. 

 

It's not a great day for it -- it's cold, it's gray, the place looks uninviting. So different from the last time she was here in early September!  

We stay there for a bit and read. She punches Ed and he punches her back. She has said more than once that she misses this. 

 

 

She laughs at his messes admitting that it sure looks different now. But she wants to come back. She is that attached to her memories here. And we will come back. Whenever she feels the need to pop in for a visit. 

 

Once I drop her off at home, I go to pick up the two dogs. The staff person tells me they played well, but she cautioned me to be careful still. Avoid tight quarters. Watch out for resource guarding. Oh, dont I know it! 

I debated what was best for them now, back at home, and decided I'd leave the gate up but keep the door open for the evening. She can go in, but she can go out too. And of course, I hide the toys. I know they'll be tired tonight. Let's keep things low key. And just in case, I leave Sadey's leash on, in case I have to pull her away.

I watch them oh so closely. And there are no growls, groans, snarls, yips -- none of it. I can tell that Henry is the cautious one. Sadey is bolder. She'll grab the couch, sit at my feet when I eat, horn in on a petting session. Still, Henry is calm. He's not a smiling guy -- his has always been a serious face. Perhaps she'll be a good match for my more timid boy. This day may well be a turning point. But we're not home free yet. And I have to think through how the weekend will play out. 

One day at a time. One big day at a time.

 

 

with so much love... 

what if...

You should not play the game "what if" with yourself. Not very often anyway. What if you catch the flu and have two energetic dogs to walk. What if your first dog (say, Henry) cannot learn to enjoy the companionship of your second dog (for example, Sadey)? What if your distant grandkids (say, Primrose and Juniper) dont really like your pooches? What if, what if... All those could happen, and then some! It's hard to steer yourself away from that and think instead -- what if these two dogs are the very best thing that could have happened -- in their lives, in yours? What if they live to a ripe old age, remaining your BFFs until you keel over? 

When I got Henry, I realized how little I actually know about rescue dogs. When I signed up to adopt Sadey, I was sure I was better equipped for it. And I am. But I'm very far from having a good grasp of these two dogs, of understanding where they're heading. 

Training guides are full of warnings. If you dont teach impulse control, you are going to have a crazy dog pulling toward tempting objects and animals and ruining your walks forever after.  So this morning, when I take out Henry for his first walk...

... and he decides to start in on his leash biting and pulling, I'm thinking -- have I not adequately addressed his impulse control skills?

They warn, too of dogs giving each other the stinky eye -- a sure sign that a brawl is about to take place. So when I find Henry spending a lot of time resting not on my lap, but by the fence, looking at Sadey, is he just curious, or giving her the stinky eye? 

And when Sadey goes for her morning walk...

... and absolutely cannot hold any position for more than one second, I'm thinking -- is this girl super hyper? I mean, dogs her age (if she is indeed over two years old now) should be calming down. Letting her loose (when Henry isn't here), I watch her do her tornado run through the house and I wonder -- what happened to adult calm?  Moreover, I thought Henry was a super strong chewer. Ha! Sadey destroys stuffie toys at the rate of three per day, and she doesn't even have access to them for that long.

 

 

 

The gate seems to be working for us. Sadey whines in the morning while I get breakfasts ready, but she doesn't make her way out. And we all eat in peace.

I take Henry to doggie daycare and chat a little to the director there. We decided that tomorrow would be a good day to try bringing Sadey there. They have trained dog people watching the dogs and they know how to spot potential conflict. It's a neutral territory so I dont anticipate conflict between my two pups, but I could use some expert observation of their behavior with each other. I thought I knew Henry's signals, but I'm learning that my understanding of dogs, though growing, is still inadequate. I tell the staff today -- let's just hope I can bring them together in the car without conflict! What if... No, let's not go there!

 

On the way home, I stop off at the farmhouse. I'm back to composting and I have a second bucketful to dump on the farmette compost heap. We chat a little about Ed's machines, about the Olympics. Ed has a strong aversion to the Games because he is convinced that they encourage tribalism and the belief that your country is somehow better, more deserving than another. Yay us, boo them. I never saw it that way until yesterday, when I read an article about the hockey rivalry between the US and Canada. It apparently has turned political these days, egged on by our administration's disparaging words against that country. I rooted for the American women's team because I truly saw them as the best of the best. I like their spirit, their comradery. But have I also succumbed to the tribalism Ed talks of by cheering for our Olympic team in general? 

Dance (the cat) hears me from her perch upstairs. She comes down and snuggles next to me, just like in the old days.

Ed has always said the farmette cats were all a bundle of affection. I liked Dance's snuggles, but I never cared for their climbing all over me, because their nails are so sharp and they like to dig them into you in their moments of total contentment. But I have to say, how is it that I'm comfortable being around so many big canine teeth? Dogs were given a mouthful of weapons so that they could survive. We want them to never use them on our families, or on our friends. Only on invaders!  We expect them to know this and to never give in to their protective and defensive instincts when we're around. Cats? Oh, they have their own independent minds. Dogs? They should be as we want them to be.

 

I come home to my dog and take her out on a long-ish walk. No big trek to the park today. I need a day that's low intensity. What if this isn't a good plan? What if depriving her of a long period of exercise will give her the zoomie crazies later in the day?

(she stays restful for... 5 seconds. At most.)

 

 

Time to pick up the kids. 

And bring them to Sally's House. Where Sadey waits for round 2 of craziness to begin. Sparrow, who likes her quite a bit, nonetheless thinks it best to lock himself in her room to play. 

Sadey, having no fear or hesitation with humans (those who aren't tall men), bounces with energy between anyone within reach, between toys, furniture. I tell the kids to use their bodies to block her leaps, but of course, she is so fast that it hardly has any impact. They think she is wildly funny. I'm thinking that she needs to be taught some doggie manners! Fast!

 

A few more drop offs (the kids, at home) and pickups (Henry at daycare), and then the three of us (Sadey, Henry, me) are home. Henry has been tired after day care lately. After dinner, he plumps down close to the fence and falls asleep. I miss my couch buddy! 

Tomorrow, I'm aiming for joining those two pups in play. 

What if... it all works out?

with so much love... 

new normal

Can you believe it, I almost have a routine going here! Well, almost. Every since last night's gate-chair-weights crash (when Sadey, my new rescue, attempted to get out of her enclosure), my pooch hasn't tried to work the fence. This means I can leave her in the room without crating, giving her a choice where to sleep (there is a new doggie bed that she actually loves) and where to hang out. Henry is still watchful, but their sniffs are friendly and they pass each other as I walk each in turn, and there is no fuss, no rebellion.

So, the morning is quite established: He walks, she walks, he eats, she eats, I eat. We all rest (well, they do; I tackle those chores that have been sitting on my list untouched for far too long), then repeat walks, then I'm off with Henry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's not yet time for doggie daycare. He has his quarterly bath and nail trim appointment first. Call me a coward, but I do not like to trim dog nails -- I'm always concerned that I'll hit the vein and make them bleed. Besides, Henry gets plenty dirty in his hours of play, inside and out. The grooming takes place in a pet place right next to a coffee shop and this gives me an hour of luxury, with my my milky coffee and a treat of choice. My big concern of the hour is which bread product to have along with my coffee.

I pick up a squeaky clean Henry.

It's not that he is getting used to these visits (this is his third), but they tell me that he no longer feels terrified. Instead, he's one of those clients who chats the whole grooming session long. I guess he needed to complain about the changes in his life in recent days. 

My nicely groomed dog then goes to doggie daycare so that he can play in the muddy wet yard there.  

 

At home, Sadey gets her freedom and I read. I force myself to put away my delicious novel, to read instead a couple of edicts on the subject of managing multiple dogs, and then, too, on the subject of resource guarding -- the squabbling point for Sadey and Henry. The two books I have are supposed to offer clever suggestions. I should have read up on this earlier of course. What do I know about having multiple dogs in my house! One book is titled "Feeling Outnumbered? How to Manage and Enjoy Your Multi-dog Household." I heard the author on NPR yesterday (she happens to be a Wisconsin dog specialist), and she surely has the credentials to offer authoritative advice. It's a quick read -- I zipped through it in a couple of hours. The second just popped into my feed and it's called "Mine! A Practical Guide to Resource Guarding in Dogs." I read this one quickly as well and found it to be basically worthless, as it deconstructed the issues surrounding resource guarding directed at humans. Neither Henry not Sadey have any problem with me fingering their food while they're eating, or sharing space or toys with me!

One quick and easy suggestion from the author of the first book is to give your pack one name, so that when you want both to pay attention, you call out not Henry, not Sadey, but...whatever name you choose for the both. I find calling these big giants "Puppies" to be amusing, so that's what they shall be. I want their attention, I call out "Hey Puppies!" 

(here's the stay-at-home pup)

 

 

In the afternoon, Ed and I both go out with Sadey to the park. Not the dog park -- I'm not sure that one is good for her. at this juncture Yes, the exercise surely is a win. But she is not yet paying attention to me enough to come when called. I'd be leashing her when she's ready, not when I am. Too, she does not need the dog stimulation in such a free for all setting. She's still recovering from the trauma of the long transfer. So, it's the county park, on leash.

Ed tells me that she does all the work for me in the hike -- she pulls that hard today. I think it's the opposite: restraining her takes effort. My upper body muscles are getting a workout.

Back home, I think about all that I've learned about her and all that I have yet to learn. Sadey doesn't take restful breaks nearly as often as Henry does. His may not last long, but they're frequent. This girl just keeps going. We come back from the hike (which followed hours of play at home), and she hits the toys again. Is it stamina, or is it that she still hasn't the ability to let go and relax? At least she isn't leaping from one piece of furniture to the next (like yesterday), though she still can jump a mile to get to me on the couch!  

 

And then I bring Henry back home and the whining at being closed off begins, but peace continues to prevail.Yes, the hope is that this will be the new normal. For a while!

with so much love...