The Christmas after we got Bo, (before Luke) my mom's friend gave me the book (now a new motion picture) Marley & Me. I distinctly remember laying in bed laughing at the new puppy parts. Looking at my beautiful little 6 month old tinkling darling, I could do nothing but giggle. After the auspicious beginning of me thinking God was punishing me for being a bad person due to his bee sting, I figure the fun was still to come!
As I laughed, it hit me...ALL DOG BOOKS END WITH DEAD DOGS! Yup....I am sure just right now a book or two went through your head. I looked at my snoring baby and realized that any ideas of capturing his quaintness went away because ALL DOG BOOKS END WITH DEAD DOGS, so I was not going to do that.
So I am not.
I have three pretty lively dogs (who are now running from living room to guest room barking to let Mike know they want to be outside with him) who as of now have given us a pretty full book of stories, anectdotes and warnings. That is what I am doing...collecting, documenting and celebrating the dogs...the VERY MUCH ALIVE DOGS!
I am not in denial. I have put my childhood dog of 17 years to sleep....I have held our dying/dead cat while we rushed to see what help could be offered. I know it will happen. I noticed as of late I cannot look at animal carcasses on the road as I just see a little black body with a heart on his white chest, a black/greyish with a feathery tail or a little white body with a black spotted underbody. The day will come. Both Bo & Daisy have genetic issues with I am sure will shorten their lives. Luke has anxiety which I figure as it is with me, working against a longish lifespan! I am ready. Mike...not so much. He looked at a rarely peaceful Daisy one night as she napped...."I will not handle it well if she dies"....and got a bit weepy at the pre-thought.
As Mike & I walked the neighborhood tonight, there is a an older retriever dog who sits on his (not sure) porch and barks. I am not sure whether he is barking at us OR our loud dogs 3 houses down who were vehemently protesting being left at home. Either way, he made is way off of the porch down toward us only half heartedly barking. You could tell he was old & you could tell he was in pain. So I walked into the yard to meet him half way....and he sat & offered his head...which I duely appreciated. Then he waddled back up to the porch to await another emergency for him to check his yard. We were allowed to pass. For a few minutes we walked without talking....at least in my head I envisioned Bo being that infirm. Only probably barking more!
This collection is a celebration of who they are & the characters they have become in the drama of our lives! Remember, this is NOT A DOG BOOK!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Who trains whom?
So I sit in bed reading JEN LASSITER...and Daisy brings me toys to throw. I was looking into Mike's bathroom & noticing Mike's full glass shower doors. My mind lit up. I wonder if Daisy would figure out how to open the sliding doors to get to the toy. From bed I started throw the toy towards the doors. I started laughing at my thwarted efforts. I think I knocked over Mike's shampoo, conditioner, and face scrub....but still kept trying.
The next night I explained to Mike what my intention was. He was intrigued. He put the toy in the shower & closed the door. He couldn't leave. He sat down & tried to EXPLAIN to her that it was "just like opening the curtains", curved his hand like a paw to show her how to pull open the door, which he did. She sat & looked at the door and his hand. And waited....
Now I am impatient. I was attempting to control Mike so he would leave Daisy to use whatever doggie logic she had to figure out what was going on. After 7 years of marriage, he had since stopped listening. So he continued with his training.
"It's easy Daisy"...."just use your paw"...so he showed her AGAIN & opened the door a bit more. So she sat....and looked at the slowly widening gap then the man who was in charge of widening that gap. From when where I was, all I could laugh (and scream) at was who was truly training WHOM?
For the 10 minutes which passed....the boys and I watched. I surmise that Daisy watched too...and waited. It was a great training session. There were moments of encouragement..."Come on Daisy, it is easy, you can do it". There were moments of success Daisy said "Good job Mike...you can open it again! Good Mike". There was a rhthym about it. He would open the door a bit, she would look at the door, look at him, look back at the door then look at him. He would wait (seemed to be the same increment) and then he would encourage her, watch her and then open the door a bit.
Finally HE gave in. She seemed impressed with his progress...jumped in, grabbed the toy and dropped it again at his feet. I was livid and laughing "I wish now I could give you a fucking dog treat because SHE just trained YOU to open the shower doors".
God bless them every one.
Be good to you
H
The next night I explained to Mike what my intention was. He was intrigued. He put the toy in the shower & closed the door. He couldn't leave. He sat down & tried to EXPLAIN to her that it was "just like opening the curtains", curved his hand like a paw to show her how to pull open the door, which he did. She sat & looked at the door and his hand. And waited....
Now I am impatient. I was attempting to control Mike so he would leave Daisy to use whatever doggie logic she had to figure out what was going on. After 7 years of marriage, he had since stopped listening. So he continued with his training.
"It's easy Daisy"...."just use your paw"...so he showed her AGAIN & opened the door a bit more. So she sat....and looked at the slowly widening gap then the man who was in charge of widening that gap. From when where I was, all I could laugh (and scream) at was who was truly training WHOM?
For the 10 minutes which passed....the boys and I watched. I surmise that Daisy watched too...and waited. It was a great training session. There were moments of encouragement..."Come on Daisy, it is easy, you can do it". There were moments of success Daisy said "Good job Mike...you can open it again! Good Mike". There was a rhthym about it. He would open the door a bit, she would look at the door, look at him, look back at the door then look at him. He would wait (seemed to be the same increment) and then he would encourage her, watch her and then open the door a bit.
Finally HE gave in. She seemed impressed with his progress...jumped in, grabbed the toy and dropped it again at his feet. I was livid and laughing "I wish now I could give you a fucking dog treat because SHE just trained YOU to open the shower doors".
God bless them every one.
Be good to you
H
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