Posts Tagged ‘dog’
Crash Landing
The high temperature yesterday was another record for February, climbing into the 60s(F) in the afternoon. It is so disorienting. Stepping out to walk Asher without wearing a coat on the way to feed the horses felt so bizarre. It’s still winter here.
In fact, the forecast is showing a quick change is due, with a 70% chance of snow tonight and temperatures in the single digits by tomorrow morning. A day or two after that, the prediction is for a return to near 60° again. I’ve seen the word “rollercoaster” used several times to describe this week’s weather.
The warmth added a spring to Asher’s step as we ventured down the hill of the backyard. I often try to trot along behind him so he can exercise his legs with more than just walking. Occasionally, he gets me running a little faster than my breathing can support and I end up anchoring his fun down a notch.
That routine did not play out so well yesterday due to a combination of factors, the most significant of which was the soft and slippery footing of the thawing ground.
Asher was perked up by the summery warmth and picked up speed down the yard’s slope. I tried to keep up with him but things quickly turned problematic. He was beginning to outrun me and by the time it was too late, I discovered I didn’t have the footing to counteract his increasing velocity. Putting it simply, my brakes were out.
Since he felt no resistance, Asher just kept gaining speed which triggered a series of “No… No… No, no, no!” cries from me as I stomped and slipped along toward my unavoidable fate. I knew I was going down and in those fractions of seconds was trying to have some say in how it would play out, but the footing just wasn’t there and I couldn’t get any control.
It was a pretty spectacular fail. Landing with so much unhindered momentum drove me into the ground hard, grinding up the wet black dirt into my belt and the pockets on the left side of my pants. I smashed my glasses against the ground and wrenched my shoulder as it took the bulk of the initial impact.
Two things probably saved me from more serious injury than just the sore shoulder that resulted: I landed on the shoulder with a permanent type III separation (old flag football injury) and the ground was thawed enough to be rather forgiving.
The clavicle on my left shoulder floats free of the scapula. The lack of a hard connection between the two meant the impact didn’t all go into my collarbone. Instead, I think the worst of the blow dissipated throughout soft tissue. If the ground had been frozen, I might have landed much harder. Of course, if the ground was frozen, I could have planted my feet to stop the momentum.
Today it feels similar to having had a vaccination shot in that arm. That’s nothing that will put me out of action, which is a good thing because Cyndie just left yesterday to visit her mom in Florida for 10 days.
I suppose I should be a little more cautious than usual until she returns.
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Vine Interruption
What started as a typical walk through the woods with Asher yesterday afternoon suddenly shifted on a whim to become an industrious “de-vining” effort. Because it is easy to navigate off the beaten paths this time of year, I frequently allow Asher to wander wherever his nose takes him. Sometimes he turns me around enough that I lose my bearings. Asher can bring me to spots where I’ve never stood before.
In one such spot, I noticed a trunk of grapevine that was thicker than my wrist. We have a general policy of favoring our trees over opportunistic vines but some of these in the center of thick growth have evaded our notice long enough to become monstrosities. The problem is that the rare times I discover such huge vines I don’t have the tools with me to do anything about it.
Yesterday, I decided to act on my chance. With Asher unknowingly tagging along, we marched the long walk back to the shop to get the small chainsaw trimmer and then back again to take on the large, woody vine trunks.
There were more than I realized. In every direction I turned, there were additional branches of the serpentine limbs either climbing another tree or putting new roots into the ground. With the power of that saw, I severed the link between every large chunk I could find.
I’m not sure what I will do with them, but I brought back a couple of trophies from the wildly twisting large sections.
I had tethered Asher to a nearby tree while I worked to find as many of the aggressive tree-climbing troublemakers in sight. Upon exhausting myself of the effort and returning to collect him, I found Asher gnawing on a bone he had found near a large hole he had dug.
I sensed we both headed back to the house with a similar air of accomplishment.
Now, if I can somehow maintain the surveillance in that thicket throughout the coming growing season, that would be just great. Otherwise, they will just return with a gusto unmatched by all the many plants we actually prefer to see thriving in our forest.
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Family Funnest
I find this precious and true: the combination of extended days together where food, activity, laughter, late-night conversations, and early-morning lingering builds unique familial bonds. We are having a fabulous time.
It was so much fun that Asher fell so soundly asleep that he was left all alone in front of the fireplace after all the people had moved on to somewhere else.
I’d say more except…
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Training Advice
We decided to pay a local dog trainer to stop by our home to meet us and Asher, to see some of his behaviors first-hand, and to advise us on what we could work on to improve his compliance in a few problem areas. She makes it sound so easy.
The good news is that we obviously have achieved success in a variety of areas, which the trainer framed as a good sign we should be able to apply the necessary focus and repetitions to train even more desired behaviors.
It will serve me well to get Asher to the point of being able to soothe himself in the house. I’m looking forward to some exercises where Asher will be tethered beside us but will get ignored until we are ready to interact with him. I feel more confident about allowing him to fuss after the latest assurances from a professional.
Dog trainers exude a confidence that I lack when it comes to interpreting dog behavior. After witnessing some of Asher’s behaviors yesterday, our visitor said it was akin to a toddler not getting their way and having a minor tantrum about it. When I am unclear about reading dog behaviors, I give them unhelpful feedback that rarely leads to outcomes I prefer.
Asher will be two years old this month. He has lived with us for just over 9 months and we have made good progress in training him to respect many commands. He will continue to grow out of his puppy rambunctiousness and we will continue to teach him behaviors we require him to master.
I’m feeling optimistic, even though I wasn’t interested in being a dog trainer. It feels a little like taking medicine. I don’t like it but I know it’s good for me.
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More Training
After the recent banishment of Asher from the canine playtime facility for his aggressive behavior, we are endeavoring to return our attention to obedience training. Asher has also begun to disregard (or overrule) our attempts to keep him from climbing up on visitors. We’ve noticed he becomes obsessed with returning repeatedly to try putting his paws on guests while we struggle to redirect his focus to something acceptable.
Last night we watched a webinar from a trainer we are considering and saw that we should train him to better respect our space. That is very logical but it won’t be easy for me to tell him “No” when he shows up at my side (or on my lap) seeking affection.
At 75 pounds and with a long enough body to stand taller than us, Asher is far from being a comfortable lap dog. That hasn’t stopped him. He likes to climb on top of me in the recliner while I am occupied with my computer. I think he was proofreading one of my blog posts in that picture.
As with most dog training issues, it isn’t so much that we need to train him as we need to train ourselves.
If he finds his way to lying down on my lap, I feel happy to have a warm companion for as long as my legs can stand.
It’s different when he obsessively approaches visitors. It’s as if he is demonstrating a need to assure them that he is the boss of them. It doesn’t feel that way when he decides to nap on me.
We also learned that we should avoid ramping up our energy when we command him to keep all four paws on the floor. There is definitely room for improvement in that regard. I’m actually looking forward to practicing more non-verbal gestures to communicate what we want him to do. We align completely with the trainer’s philosophy of teaching a dog to think about the results of his behavior more than simply responding robotically to a command trigger.
What would be more fun for him: pulling against the leash as we stand firm or coming back to us to seek direction? When returning to us brings a treat, one can see where a smart dog would begin to recognize which behavior is preferable.
If Asher wants to nap on my lap, I am not inclined to object, but I am not a guest he needs to respect. I’m family and weak against his superior levels of persuasion.
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Blessed Calm
While it lasts, we are currently enjoying the blessings of calm serenity with the horses. The temperatures have softened, blankets have been removed, no illnesses or injuries to speak of, and all four have settled into a smooth routine of eating their feed out of hanging buckets.
Yesterday, they even got all of their hooves trimmed without incident. Cyndie was away for the day and I was responsible for getting each of them into their halters. For the first time in my experience, not one of them backed off and made me try multiple times for cooperation. Each horse stood firm and allowed me to fumble with straps, latches, and my limited reach around their tall necks.
I think they were being nice for my sake.
They have also been behaving surprisingly well at feeding times. The four of them take up positions in the spots they originally chose for their feed buckets, with only an occasional need for us to coax some relocating.
It is particularly rewarding on days when they step up in advance and calmly await their buckets. That usually coincides with no-fuss eating, devoid of shenanigans or excess spillage.
It’s a scenario where everyone wins.
While things are all well and good with the horses, our dog Asher has gotten himself into a little trouble at the doggie daycare place. We’ve been happy about him having somewhere to occasionally go where he could interact with other dogs and free us for a few hours. He has spoiled that with a second offense of not playing well with others at the place in Hudson.
As a result of his aggression against another dog yesterday, he has been banished for good from the facility.
Not everything was as calm as it seemed.
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Learning How
Every day I am learning how to do something. Some days it’s as simple as figuring out how to identify what I want to do next. Sorting out wants from needs and determining priorities. We do that our entire lives but I feel like I am still learning how to do it with each new day’s parameters.
None of us have been to January 19, 2024, until now, under today’s circumstances. It wouldn’t hurt to take a humble and inquisitive view of whatever tasks we face each day, whether they are familiar or not. We might learn something. For one example, we all need to learn to adapt to the ongoing changes of our warming planet.
Lately, I find a lot of my learning has to do with our dog, Asher. My life would be a heck of a lot easier if he spoke words in my language.
“Just tell me what you want!”
That usually gets me the tilted-head blank stare or just continued whining.
One thing that he seems very happy with is heavy physical play from me. I’m not always in the mood, but when I am, I try to give him a strong dose of roughhousing.
His foster mom told us he liked to play rough with their other dogs so I use my hands like a dog’s mouth and grab at his neck and ears when we do battle. Sometimes I push him away (he charges right back at me) and sometimes I pull him in to keep him guessing.
You can see in the pictures that Asher has a ball in his mouth. That is the object we are battling over for possession. If there is no toy to occupy his teeth, my head and hands become the next target for a grasp by his jaw.
The matches are no-holds-barred and I need to be sure to remove my glasses because I get punched a lot when he is trying to reach out and get a leg up on me.
The struggle I have with this game is that he never seems to get tired of it. I need to learn how to nurture a transition to a cool-down activity when I’m ready for a break in the action.
There is no tapping out, although he is sensitive enough to back off and check on me if he notices I got hurt.
The easiest way to switch his focus is to produce a dog treat for him to eat. Asher has learned an impressive level of command compliance indoors with training drills. I wish the offering of treats carried the same power in the great outdoors.
We both are learning more about each other every day.
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What Responsibility?
Sometimes I question what my responsibility is to direct Asher’s activity on walks. I understand there are times when training a dog to heel –as in, to walk obediently by my side– I would completely be directing his behavior. That is not what is happening when I take him out to burn off some of his energy on a walk around our property.
These are times when I am granting him the freedom to be on a sniff-fari and to explore to his heart’s content within the confines of our property borders. Here are a few things that happen when allowing him to determine our agenda:
- Asher picks up a fresh scent on the trail and immediately decides he must follow it at the highest speed he can muster, regardless of whether it exceeds my top speed or not.
- Asher freezes and stares to find a squirrel that may be prancing around, oblivious to his presence. Then he dashes off after it, again, at the highest speed he can muster.
- Asher smells the hint of a rodent’s presence and turns into a crazily obsessed predator that must destroy the log or brush pile to get after the prey with the passion of a stray dog that might not find another meal for days or weeks if he fails.
More than once I have stood by and watched as mice bail out in an emergency evacuation as Asher attacks the far side of their quarters. It has yet to quell his impassioned battle against the wooden fortresses. One was an 18-inch log with a diameter of about 12 inches with mouse-sized holes in each end. He chewed on both ends of that log until his saliva was starting to soften the hardwood but he never came close to making any functional progress toward reaching a reward that might still be stuck inside.
Is it my responsibility to interrupt his useless battles? Am I being negligent in allowing him to obsess to such an intense degree? From my perspective, he’s getting time to chew, which he LOVES to do and which we encourage in the house with an endless array of chew toys. He’s getting his mind occupied and exercised as he tries to figure out what angle to bite from since the previous attempt didn’t work. If I wasn’t allowing him the opportunity, he would be in the house whining for something to do, so I figured I might as well let him have at it.
It gives me a chance to practice being patient while standing in the fresh air of the great outdoors, forest bathing, and listening to bird calls in the wind.
Yesterday, Asher went to work, not on a log, but on an entire downed tree trunk.
The snow below was all white when we showed up. The wood dust and shrapnel are what Asher has clawed, bitten, and spit out in his lust to reach some reward his nose seemed to promise.
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I felt a little guilty at times during the 30 minutes he toiled away since he was working so fervently at a lost cause. Although, it’s kind of cute to watch his belief in himself as he thrashes against this ancient tree-trunk beast as if he actually stood a chance.
Honestly, whether or not it should be my responsibility to talk him out of these epic potential conquests of mouse houses, I tend to give him the benefit of the doubt because attempting to tear him away always creates a battle of wills that I’m barely capable of winning.
Maybe, just maybe, I’d be more responsible being a cat guy.
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4th Down
The NFL Wildcard Playoff Weekend is not over yet (2 games left today), but I am already a little woozy after two days of elimination desperation decision-making about going for it on 4th down. They weren’t all close games but they all contained the drama of getting knocked out of the playoffs in the first week if you lose.
Watching football several days in a row is a lot easier to do when the weather outside is frightful. It’s also a little less stressful for me this year because my team isn’t a contender. My allegiance leans toward teams representing the same division and conference as my Minnesota Vikings, but it’s not unlike me to change my mind in the middle of a game and root for their competition if circumstance dictates.
Color me fickle when it comes to other franchises and their fans. I had to pull for the Detroit Lions last night because I wasn’t up to seeing fans’ disappointment if they’d lost.
As the series, “Ted Lasso” reiterated, “It’s the hope that kills you.” In an earlier game, it was Dallas fans who had their hopes crash and burn in dramatic fashion. I felt sorry for them but it was offset by how thrilled the fans of Green Bay were.
Asher was a little disappointed we didn’t spend as much time outdoors as usual. He wasn’t interested in any of the NFL games. We pretty much exhausted all of his favorite indoor games. We’ve converted his outdoor “indestructible” throw ring into an indoor chew toy that occupies him for large chunks of time when he gets in that groove.
His bin of indoor toys becomes a wonderful time sink when a handful of his dry food is tossed in and around the objects so he has to nose stuff out of the way to find the precious morsels.
When that game is over there are usually more toys scattered around on the floor than remain in the bin. We can tell the exercise is completed when the sound of crunching kibble stops occurring. He might move around a few more toys, but when the munching is over, he’ll soon be looking for a new distraction.
I count myself lucky when he decides the next activity can be a nap instead of incessant whining to go outside.
It’s funny, I’m just the opposite. I start whining when I want to take a nap. When I’m successful and permission to sleep is granted, it’s a bit like getting a first down on that dramatic 4th down try.
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Cold Outside
Much of the U.S. is experiencing dramatic levels of cold outside so I don’t feel alone in my experience tending to the horses this morning. There is an interesting sort of pressure pushing on you when trying to do everyday tasks at extremely cold temperatures.
The horses handle it as stoically as they always do against weather extremes. They were pretty much all business this morning as they consumed their feed pellets while I was cleaning up the incredibly hard frozen rubble of manure from around their feet.
The fresh snow cover offered clear evidence of unseen goings on overnight. Plenty of hoof prints and turned up leaves exposed deer activity in our woods that intrigued Asher greatly. The horses appear to have been active in both the hay field and the back pasture. The connecting gates between those two fields are not currently open so the horses must choose a single opening from each of the two paddocks to get out.
In the past, they have been slower to cover so much ground after a snowfall. One side or the other of the paddocks will show little to no tracks for days. This morning their tracks reveal they had been moving around more than usual in the last 14 hours.
Back inside, I had a warm couch partner keeping me company after breakfast.
I was thinking about preparing this blog post but Asher seemed to prefer I focus on him instead. He rearranged himself when I brought my computer to my lap and Cyndie took a picture.
He looks so cute it’s hard to feel frustrated with his escape yesterday morning that led to our neighbor from the south phoning to alert us to the unsanctioned whereabouts. I was plowing at the end of the driveway and hadn’t heard my phone ring. The neighbor was out plowing, too, and pulled up to share the news in person.
While we were talking, Asher came trotting back. I didn’t have a leash with me so I hopped on the Grizzly and enticed Asher to race me back to the house. He happily took up the challenge but I don’t think he liked that I decided to drive so fast he could barely keep up.
I figured it would be to our advantage to make sure he was exhausted. Taking him out for extra exercise in these temperatures is contra-indicated.
Thank goodness it is warm inside.
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Relative Something 