Merry Christmas!!!

Your dog's doesn't stink

It has happened that I have been unable to find Chica's leavings. Once it happened that I couldn't find it amongst the fall leaves, then saw I had been closer to it than I thought - I had stepped in it. Another time, I was distracted by her having gone three times in a row (the instructor had given her cheese) and while trying to commit to memory all the places, I ended up losing them all. I looked for a good 15 minutes with my flashlight and could find no sign of any. Went back the next morning and looked again - found nothing - must have been well camouflaged by the leaves. Sometimes, I think I have marked the spot only to lose sight of it while struggling to peel off and open the little bags I have. I think that I may have been trying to mark the spot by proximity to Chica's behind - even worse than remembering your spot in the parking lot by what vehicle is next to you.

The thing to do when you can't find your dog's waste, in the dog walker world, is to pick up someone else's dog's. I dutifully did just that, only to find that trying to pick up some other dog's old stuff is not the same as picking up your own dog's fresh stuff. On a full stomach, excrement of unknown origin is disgusting. In the morning, with nothing in my belly, I gagged and almost lost it.

Lessons learned: before you go to get and open the bag, mark the spot with something notable in the direct vicinity - a brown leaf is not usually a good idea. You can point one of your shoes in the right direction, but don't get too close. Have a good flashlight, but don't depend on the beam to stay steady on the target. When bagging, do not attempt to pick up twigs. Twigs will poke through and rip the bag. This is to be avoided. Do try to pick up soiled grass but don't be overly exacting - fingers will poke through and rip the bag. This is to be avoided even more than the twigs. Try to make sure that everything is grabbed in the palm of the hand in the bag before pulling the rest of the bag up and over. If puppy has been eating cheese or other digestive disasters causing a less than firm consistency, there is a danger of carry-over onto the rest of the bag and thereafter onto the hands as they try to tie the bag. Carry kleenex in the opposite pocket of the hand you use to do the bagging. It is difficult to get a kleenex out if it is on the side of the hand that requires the wiping.

Even though you are used to carrying a bagful, don't forget it's in your hand. I was in the park and a fellow came up to me and asked for directions to the mall. I was quite helpful and was careful to point out the exact path to take. All the while holding onto ... I have to wonder what he thought about the smell. Of course I didn't notice, since my dog's doesn't stink.

Chica, stealthy stalker dog on critter patrol

I noticed a while back, that Chica can sneak when she wants to. We were entering the park after dark and she started slinking, moving in such a way that her tags didn't jingle. I turned on the flashlight and clapped my hands and sure enough, there went a bunnie. Now, whenever I notice that she is slinking noiselessly, I bring her in close to me and try to make enough noise to clear the way. Sometimes, the bunnies think they are better sitting like statues. That only works if they aren't within leash range.

The Dog's Diary

Sent by Jane. This could be Chica, of course, except she doesn't sleep in my bed. She is always happy with any activity.

Excerpts from a Dog's Daily Diary:
8:00 am: Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am: A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am: A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am: Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm: Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm: Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm: Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm: Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm: Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm: Wow! Watched TV with my master! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm: Sleeping in the bed! My favorite thing!

Talking to Chica

I said that I talk to Chica a fair amount while walking with her. If there is no one around, I try to do a little training. When she does something well, I praise her and as she responds to the praise, the silliness of my tone of voice escalates and it sounds something like:

What a good Dog! (normal voice)

Who's a good doggie? (Baby voice)

Rica! Rutt a rud roggie roo rarrre! (Scooby Doo voice)

That's generally the point when I feel someone brush past me.

It never fails, not a soul to be seen, but at the moment that I make the silliest voices, suddenly, there is a human to hear it. Like the tree in the forest, if there isn't a human to hear me being silly, I'm not silly and I'm not embarrassed.

Nicknames for Chica

I was talking to my friend about her cats' nicknames. I said that mine for Chica all start with her name. Not so imaginative, but not too confusing for her either, I guess.

Chicadoodle (Because of the Golden Doodle we met at Obedience (a breed that comes from poodles and golden retrievers). I really liked that. Chica should have a special breed name, too. Grey shepherd? German hound?)

Chicadeedle, Chicadeedleydoo (Ned Flanders inspired?)

Chiquita Banana

Chicadog

Chicaroo

Then, I thought of some of the adjectives that come to mind when I'm walking her. (I talk to her a fair amount while walking with her.) The way she is striped can make it look as if her ribs are sticking out. I called her Riblets a few times. Because her nose is stuck to the ground when we walk, I called her Sniffer dog fairly often. If I go with qualities, then she should be called Quick, too.

I don't want her to feel neglected - not having the proper amount of nicknames!

Chica in the fields

The week before last, I took Chica back to the fields where I let her off-leash again as a test. I had the trusty squeaky toy, sure it would be my magic to make her Come. She had been very interested in it. Once the leash came off, however, the squeaky toy held no appeal. The critters of the fields were the only thoughts in Chica's dog-evolved brain. I think I would have to have a pet rabbit and make IT squeak for her to come to me in those fields. (Of course I would never do that to a bunny! I am mentionning it mostly to upset V., who has pet rabbits.)

I ended up having to follow her around until I could get close enough to her to grab her collar. One early attempt failed due to the large puddle between us. Did I mention that these fields are very swampy? I always end up with double-soakers. I think of Watership Down because of the rabbits I am sure live there and the word Water, but have never read the book so don't know if rabbits like living in swampy conditions. I wouldn't have thought so - who wants cold, damp little burrows?

B.A.R.K. in the park, October 14, 2006

Chica looking regal at B.A.R.K. in the park, a fundraiser for the Bytown Association of Rescued Kanines.

Jane and Giorgio visit

Giorgio, Chica and me on our walk near Champlain. Sunday, Dec. 3, 2006.









Jane, Chica and me getting our walk after brunch.

Chica as rescue dog and being bad

Last week, I was out walking Chica in the evening after work. It gets dark so early now, of course, I try to stick to areas with lighting or that I know. We were walking along one of the trails in behind my house and came to the park and ride area. I decided that instead of walking through the park and ride on pavement, we would take a little trail right beside the fence back towards the main path that leads to my house. The trail turned out to be not all that well-trodden - it was narrow and bumpy with low-hanging branches. Suddenly, I found myself on my knees in a fairly deep pool of water. Chica was off ahead of me and I called to her to come back; partially because I didn't want her wandering off and getting her leash tangled in trees and bushes and partially because I thought I might be able to use her as leverage to get myself up out of the water. She wagged her tail at me but just kept sniffing the air and enjoying all the sounds and smells. I gave up and managed to get up out of the water by myself. Some rescue dog! Not Lassie, not even Hobo.

We continued along and I decided to take her down through the fields near me (two fields slated for the development of office buildings at some point). I felt bad for her that we hadn't gone very far from home and that she hadn't really had a run. I walk slowly and she never gets beyond a little trot unless we are playing fetch or she is off-leash. It seemed like it would be pretty safe for me to take her off-leash for a run in the fields.

(She has always been good about coming when I call when I have her off-leash.)

She came once to me when I called her as a test, but then when I was ready to start back home, she refused. She was having way too much fun, running from one place to another, sniffing and snorfing. I think those fields must be full of rabbits.

So, there I was still soaking wet on my legs, tired, patience wearing very thin.

I tried various tactics, various tones of voice. I tried walking away from her, she ran past me. I tried hiding on her, she ran past me. She made a trail all over the place (like Family Circus) and then come and run past me. For those who haven't seen her run - she is very very fast. Finally, I was walking back up a hill that leads to the path to my house and she decided to come and sit for me, with that look on her face that says 'oops, sorry'.

I've been working on Come even more often since that happened. And, I'm planning to take a squeaky toy any time I have her off-leash now. She's bound to come for that, even if she does stop and smell the poops along the way.