A Perfect Day (for Cali)

Cali, a golden retriever, swims in a riverI’d like to get out and hike more. It’s summer in Missoula. I’m an outdoor novice; I don’t go camping (which means I have Missoula all to myself on summer weekends) and I can really only do easy hikes. Even so, I like to get outside in our short, but stunning, summers.

But Cali’s not great off leash. She gets engrossed in something and next thing she knows, she’s miles away and 20 minutes have passed.

There are many wonderful trails where I can’t or wouldn’t let her off leash even if she were more reliable. They’re at the edge of vast wilderness, have too many tempting smells and critters to follow, and I’m not willing to risk losing her. Every weekend in the summer, the Missoula NPR station reads our lost dog reports, and sometimes there are pictures at the trail heads … it’s sad and scary.

So, when I have a little time and it’s a nice day, I face a dilemma. Do I pack Cali into the car and go off somewhere to satisfy my desire to hike? Or do I choose an option that will be more fun for her?

Hiking is fun for her, but still, it’s usually a long walk on a short leash in a pretty place that she’d love to explore, if only her mean mom would let her.

Compared with one of our standbys, a large open area inside Missoula where she can run off leash, and where I usually throw a ball for her to chase … well, no contest. Especially in the summer when there’s water to play in!

I feel a little bad each time I decide to head there rather than gear up for a more adventurous outing, but then, as I make the turn off of Reserve St., and Cali knows for sure where we’re going, her excitement reassures me. This is what she’d choose. This or a trip to Big Dipper ice cream (or both).

She dances with excitement as we get out of the car and I dig out her ball; she squeals with joy as I release the leash. Then she’s off, running, the instant I throw the ball. She doesn’t bring it back, of course, so I walk to her, she lets me take it, and I throw it again. And again.

We walk along the irrigation ditch, currently full of cool water. We walk through a wooded area. When we get to each of the two little pools, I throw the ball into the water for her to swim after. Now she does bring it back, over and over, so I will keep throwing it upstream. Her favorite thing is to get out of the water and drop the ball at my feet. Then, just as I bend to pick it up, she shakes off, sharing the cool water. We both get back to the car dirty, tired, and happy.

I think that she has more fun doing this, even if it’s the same outing two or three times a week (or daily) than she would if we went to new and interesting places … where she had to stay on leash. It’s not that dire; there are a few other places where she can be off leash. But in the summer, this spot, with the trees, water, and open space, is pretty hard to beat. Instead of worrying about taking her more places, maybe I need to focus on taking her more often for perfect Cali days … a swim, some mud, maybe a little ice cream!

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Dogs and Deer

The house where we are dog-sitting is above the Bitterroot Valley

We’ve been hanging out in the Montana wilderness, dog sitting. Well, the edge of the wilderness, anyhow. And it’s fawn season.

We were out in the play yard with a motley collection of tennis balls, most of which were cleverly camouflaged in the grass. We do this three or four times a day — take three balls and three dogs. Play for a while. Return to the house with one or, if we’re lucky two balls …

I hadn’t seen many deer around the house at all, and none in this fenced play area, and I hadn’t seen a single fawn yet this year. So I wasn’t thinking about deer as I walked around looking for lost tennis balls. We were down to one, which Cali was carefully hoarding.

Suddenly, I saw a flash of brown and white. A tiny fawn nestled in the grass. I’d startled her (or him). The fawn ran. The dogs, being dogs, noticed and ran after. I yelled, dogs chased, things got scary and noisy. The fawn got to the fence … and tried to get out. Non-trigger warning: No one gets physically hurt.

This part, though terrifying, was also very interesting. Cali got to the fawn first. Tail at half mast, wagging, she sniffed. She did that “hold back and stretch forward at the same time” thing she does when she’s nervous but her curiosity mostly overcomes her apprehension. I yelled at her to get away. She did.

Then Mack got there.

She looked more serious, and I screamed at her to get away. She’s very obedient, so she did. But … the fawn was scared and couldn’t get through the fence and started bleating. With every bleat, Mack returned in a flash. I’d yell. She’d leave.The cycle would repeat.

By this time, Cali had gone back for another sniff. I also kept telling Cali, “NO!” and she’d look at me, then sniff and wag some more.

I finally got there (this all happened in about 15 or 20 seconds …) and grabbed both dogs’ collars. I dragged them away and … Alberta sauntered over to see what was happening. I called her, too, and she came right away. Good girl!

After dragging the dogs into the house, I went back to see if the fawn was stuck. She was gone. I really hope her mom came and got her, but I can’t really know whether she’s OK. It’s been about a half hour, and I am just now starting to breathe normally again. My heart is still pounding, though not quite as fast. The adrenaline is subsiding, I guess.

The dogs were doing what dogs do. Which is a problem where deer are also doing what deer do.

I was happy to see how gentle Cali was, but the fawn didn’t really see that and was justifiably terrified. I’m less thrilled that Cali did not come when I called her.

I’m not as confident about the beneficence of Mack’s motives, but I am grateful that she listened to me (multiple times) though less happy that she kept going back into the fray.

I’ll go out to the play yard and make sure it’s deerless before taking the girls there again but … I’ll also be happy to be back home, where the neighborhood deer respect our 6-foot fence and stay out of Cali’s yard.

Freedom!

Cali, a golden retriever, jumps out of a freezing cold stream
Photo by Christina Phelps

An out-of-town friend came to visit Cali this weekend, and we all went to our favorite place, Packer Meadow. We were a little early for the gorgeous wildflowers, but Cali enjoyed being out in nature and off her leash.

The first time she ever visited Packer Meadow, Cali was with Jana and Alberta, and they all went crazy, running in circles and splashing in the creek.

Cali did a similar run-and-splash today, but she had barely dipped her paws into the icy snowmelt water before bounding back onto land and running some more.

She did not want to go home and ran off when called back to the car. She made sure to stay close enough that she could see us but stubbornly refused to come to the car. We’ve got to work on that if Cali wants to enjoy any more Montana hiking!

I corralled her and we got into the car … where Cali was soon sound asleep.

Teach Your Dogs Well …

Jana and Cali rest under a retaurant table

My mom recently spent a week in Italy, where she noticed dogs everywhere — in restaurants and shops, walking politely down crowded sidewalks — often stylishly clad in jackets. She mentioned multiple times that the sidewalks were spotless.

In chatting with other dog-loving and well-traveled friends, we heard stories of other European countries where well-dressed dogs hobnobbed with humans in restaurants, stores, and even historic homes that the humans were touring.

Obviously, the dog culture is very different in Europe than in the U.S.

I can’t tell you how or why it’s so different, but I can tell you what works: socialization and practice. Dogs who are out and about have to learn manners and be held to high standards of behavior. American pet dogs generally stay home and, too often, are allowed to develop poor manners and habits. It’s a vicious cycle: The dogs are unruly, so we don’t take them in public. Lacking exposure and practice, they don’t learn to behave better. So it’s too much effort to take them to even the few places they are welcome. So they don’t learn …

I’m not criticizing, just observing. I am as guilty as the next dog owner. Many times, I’ve decided not to take Cali into, say, our local dog-friendly Ace Hardware because I just want to get my shopping out of the way. She loves going in, and she’s not horribly behaved — but she puts a lot of effort into looking for employees whom she can hit up for cookies, and I do have to watch her to make sure she doesn’t shoplift those dog treats that are in a nose-level bin. I’d love it if she just calmly walked by my side, ignoring the treats, but I haven’t put in the effort needed to get her to that point.

In my service-dog-training days, I took many, many puppies on many, many trips to stores, restaurants, and every kind of public place. In those instances, I was 100 percent focused on the puppy, not trying to do my own errands, and I taught the puppies to behave properly (I hope). It takes a lot of effort, though it’s well worth it.

I admire the European owners who’ve managed to combine training with living their lives. Obviously, behaving calmly in various situations will come more easily to some dogs than to others, but all puppies need to be taught. Taught to settle down quietly and not demand attention while the humans are eating or talking. Taught not to search for and pick up scraps of food or trash. Taught not to beg at restaurant tables. Taught not to seek attention from strangers. These are, of course, skills that are valuable at home, too, especially when the doorbell rings or a repair person is working in the house.

Everyone’s ideas of what behavior is intolerable and what’s “good enough” are different. Teaching dogs manners is hard work and demands a lot of repetition and consistency. Lots of us are not very good at that, but we really do get out of it what we put in. Maybe it’s time to take Cali to Ace for more practice …

 

 

What’s OK When Puppies Play?

I’ve accompanied friends with young puppies to puppy play sessions several times over the past few months. (Playing with puppies and then sending them home with someone else is the best …)

Puppies often play in ways that seem rough and scary to their doting parents. Those other puppies might hurt Precious, the new owners fret.

Relax. Puppies are pretty sturdy. They also tend to be quite vocal if another puppy is too rough.

Great puppy play includes:

  • Lots of chasing. One puppy leads off and others chase her. Within a few seconds, the pair or group change direction and another puppy is in front. When to worry? If only one puppy is chased (same for adult dogs) or if the chasee seems to want to end the chase and the other dogs ignore the signals. If too many puppies or dogs are chasing a single dog and seem intently focused on that dog. Good chase is fluid, not targeted at a single puppy.
  • Lots of wrestling, mouthing, and tugging. Yes, puppies have nasty, needle-sharp teeth. All the more reason to let them practice biting — and inhibiting their bite — on each other, not on our arms and hands. They let each other know what hurts and when to back off. This is one of the primary reasons why new puppy owners should insist that their puppy stay with his litter until he’s 8 weeks old. Sure, they’re weaned and yeah, the breeder might be pressuring you to take your puppy home. But those few weeks (with teeth) of play with littermates are essential to teaching initial social skills and bite inhibition. Single puppies and those taken from their litters at 6 or 7 weeks, which is way too common, are at a serious disadvantage.
  • Frequent pauses where puppies check in with their people, get a drink, pee, rest under a bench … puppies who know when they need a break are smart and self-protective. Puppy owners might need to enforce breaks, though, because the little ones don’t always make good choices. Call your puppy over, give him a treat, and send him back to re-engage.

What crosses a line?

  • Watch puppies for signs of stress. A puppy that is scratching a lot is stressed, as is one who’s constantly seeking to avoid other dogs, clings to a person’s legs, hides under a bench for long periods of time.
  • Yelps signal distress. Some puppies do vocalize while happily playing, but a distressed-sounding yelp is a call for human intervention. De-escalate the play, let the yelping puppy catch her breath, then let them all play again. Puppies usually recover quickly from a minor scrape and don’t hold grudges.
  • Too much mounting and other pushy behavior. This is a fine line. Puppies do wrestle and climb on each other, and that’s fine. Puppies of vastly different sizes can play happily together. But if a puppy seems interested only in humping or pinning other puppies and is doing it over and over, or constantly seeks out a specific puppy to mount, that puppy needs a break. And possibly larger, older playmates who will teach and enforce more acceptable play rules.

Puppy play groups are a great way for puppies to work on their social skills while working off a fraction of that endless puppy energy. Don’t avoid them because you are worried that your delicate baby might get hurt — but do pay attention and intervene when needed. In fact, that guidance serves beyond puppyhood and in any situation where dogs of any age are playing together.

Cali’s Pseudo-Marshmallow Test

Cali, a golden retriever, smiles happily and wears a colorful bandanna after her grooming.

Cali went to the groomer a few weeks ago. Our groomer, conveniently located around the corner, has a nice antique brass coal hod in the entryway, usually filled with dog biscuits. And cleverly located at golden-retriever-nose height.

Cali beelined for the cookie basket, which had only three biscuits. She looked at them, at me, at them, etc. I gave her one, then handed her leash over to the groomer.

A couple of hours later, I returned to pick Cali up. She came out from the back and headed straight to the basket. I gave her one of the remaining cookies, and stood chatting with the groomer and paying the bill for a few minutes.

When we looked back at Cali, she was standing at full attention, chin resting on the edge of the basket, staring at the one remaining biscuit. She could easily have taken it; we hadn’t been paying close attention. The groomer even said that most dogs do, indeed, help themselves. She was impressed with Cali’s manners.

I saw that as Cali’s version of the marshmallow test, and I was pleased that she showed self-restraint and good manners. She’s not always so disciplined, but she has never taken food that wasn’t hers, and she’s generally a very Good Dog.

Cali’s Quiet Competence

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I was in charge of puppy lunch the other day.

Puppy lunch is Deni and Koala’s name for the midday treat ball break that Koala has trained Deni to give her. The time keeps moving up; it would be more aptly named Puppy brunch, since Koala starts asking for it around 10 am, but that is a different story. Deni and I call it PL, as if Koala, and now Cali, won’t know what we’re talking about. Right.

But I digress.

Koala gets about a quarter-cup of kibble in her large orange treat ball. Cali now gets a smaller amount of kibble in a smaller yellow treat ball. Before anyone howls about unfairness, keep in mind that most dogs stop getting puppy lunch at about 4 months of age. Koala is over 4 years old and Cali is 6. Neither needs puppy lunch, but Koala has everyone convinced that she must eat multiple small meals a day to survive.

Also, Cali doesn’t seem to care. When I gave her a larger treat ball, she lost interest in it well before it was empty. Her lack of fanatical, desperate obsession with food is the least golden-ey thing about her.

They get PL in the downstairs TV / dog play area.

I’ve written in the past about how good Koala is at avoiding obstacles and keeping her treat ball from rolling under things. This large open area is easy for her. She rolls and chases the ball the full length and width of the room, vacuuming up the kibble as it falls out.

Cali has a different strategy. She takes her ball to the dog bed that is in a corner. It’s got walls on two sides and the sofa on the third. She stands in the open end, and gently bats her ball around the small, contained space. It can’t roll under the sofa because the dog bed blocks the bottom opening. This gives her a very easy way to keep track of the ball, get all of the kibble, and stay out of Koala’s zooming, looping path.

This simple strategy shows Cali’s characteristic calm, almost offhand, intelligence. She figures things out and makes the world work for her, in a quiet, unassuming way. She’s fine letting Koala’s exuberance claim the spotlight, and she doesn’t seem to mind that Koala’s treat ball fun lasts a bit longer.

It’s similar when the girls are picking up their toys (which does not happen often enough). Koala leaps and runs and bounces around, flinging toys toward the basket. One occasionally lands inside; others land nearby. She’ll toss the same toy at the basket 3 or 4 times, growing increasingly agitated — at the lack of praise and cookies from Deni. Cali, meanwhile, slowly gets a toy and thrusts it into my hand. (She and I have not worked much on putting things into the basket, for which I take full responsibility.)

Cali’s not always quiet and calm; she’s true to her golden heritage when visitors come or we meet a human, any human, walking down the street. She’s as wriggly and excited to meet a new friend as to greet an old friend. But I really do enjoy her thoughtful approach to problem solving.