Posts Tagged ‘pets’
Mamma’s Back
Asher is very excited to find that Cyndie is back in his life again. When the garage door rumbled to life last night, Asher sprung to his feet from a dead sleep. We were up in the loft watching Minnesota’s State High School Hockey Tournament. Well, I was watching. Asher was napping.
We got along well enough in Cyndie’s absence but Asher knows who the real momma is. Now he can get back to playing us against each other to get his way when he wants something.
I’m looking forward to having a break from being the full-time dog trainer that I’d rather not be. That’s not because Asher isn’t making good progress with the things we are trying to teach. I’d just rather not be constantly thinking about the process and whether I am saying and doing all the right things at the right times.
My brain is in entertainment mode with the glorious spectacle of the High School Hockey Tournament games showing on TV. I’m really impressed with the level of play from these young athletes. More than their physical prowess in skating and stick handling, it’s the good decisions they make that stand out. Plus, there isn’t an obvious difference between the best lines and the “not-as-best.”
Also, the goalkeeping is incredibly sharp.
The only thing missing is a tournament snowstorm. That used to be a thing. Not so much anymore. Certainly, not this year. I saw that the planet just experienced a record for the world’s warmest February which was also the 9th month in a row with record temperatures. Seems like a trend.
If that keeps happening, it’ll hardly be worth the trip to Florida in the winter. I really like having occasional opportunities to get a taste of living alone when Cyndie is gone but speaking on Asher’s behalf, he would definitely prefer having Momma not travel.
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Big Gusts
Even though the temperature reached the mid-60s (F) yesterday, the strong winds and general cloudiness kept it feeling more like spring than summer. The dramatic gusts got to be a little intimidating at times. The sound of air racing through the branches of our pine trees can get downright spooky.
Asher is always checking the scent that rides the wind from the properties south of us. It leaves me curious about what he picks up. My first guess would be cats.
I can’t imagine he was able to pick out anything particular from the gales yesterday that were strong enough to flop his ears back.
By late afternoon, my weather app warned of lightning in the vicinity. That was the first time in months I’ve seen that. According to the radar, storms were popping up right overhead and quickly blowing off to the northeast.
As we walked through the woods earlier, I struggled to figure out if there were any new trees tipped over among the ones that have been leaning long enough that I should recognize them by now. They all look alike after a while. The sure thing is when something comes down across one of our trails, like this one did:
From its appearance, it had been long dead before being blown down. Dead trees that haven’t been knocked down yet are, per what Steve R. taught me, “vertical firewood storage.” Now I’ll have to convert this to horizontal stacked firewood.
Asher took great interest in inspecting the base and the hole it exposed after succumbing to the wind.
The wind kept blowing after dark last night so I will get another chance this morning to test my memory of pre-existing widow-makers when Asher and I head out for our usual routine in the next hour or so. I will not be surprised if there are more new “leaners” today than there were yesterday.
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Making Do
This is not the first time I have been “making do,” in my quest to survive all that life tosses in front of me. I used the same post title six years ago when Cyndie and I traveled with Mike and Barb to visit Cyndie’s parents in Florida at a similar time of year.
This time, I am managing things alone at home while Cyndie is visiting the Sunshine State. I am squeaking by on whatever meager rations she left behind. For example, how about toast out of her homemade cranberry walnut bread with my favorite crunchy peanut butter?
Gives me just enough strength to walk Asher to his heart’s delight and keep the horses from total neglect. They are making do with the snowless conditions and warm sunshine of late.
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There is no snow left in the fields as clear skies and record-high temperatures continue to be our norm.
I can poke fun at my comforts by overstating the truth but the relative luxury I am graced with does not come without a dose of guilt in the face of those dealing with war, poverty, famine, and climate catastrophes and truly suffering to get by.
I do not take my good fortune for granted, so I share the wonder of it all with hopes it might balance the harsh realities others are experiencing and whisk them away for a moment to a better place that does still exist in other places of the world.
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Asher Fixates
A couple of days ago, back before weather conditions turned Arctic overnight, I let Asher lead an off-the-trails exploration through our woods. He stopped at this downed tree and began frantically chewing on it, I’m guessing because he detected some delicious-smelling critter hiding in the middle.
There was nowhere else I needed to be so I granted him full freedom to gnaw away to his heart’s content.
It was a pretty big tree. I thought it looked like a lot of wasted effort but Asher chomped away with a confidence that indicated satisfaction with the progress he was achieving.
I started to get bored watching him work so I read some news on my phone and played my turns on “Words with Friends.” Asher continued to attack the tree trunk with reckless abandon.
I thought about sitting down nearby to rest my eyes for a while. Asher looked like he was willing to bite off splinters until he reached what I assume he hoped would be a chewy center. I always respect his determination.
He outlasted my patience. I began to wonder if he was choosing to stay at it out of embarrassment over the possibility of giving up before he got to the hollow center. Maybe interrupting him is what a friend would do.
I pulled out a treat and waved it in front of his nose. When he turned in my direction, I began walking away with it. Asher followed me, but I would describe it as begrudgingly. It worked though. I saved him from any embarrassment.
We made our way toward the perimeter trail in search of other adventures.
The next day, when we found ourselves bushwhacking in that same vicinity again, that tree held no interest to him whatsoever. Maybe no critters were at home by that time.
Or maybe it’s just that Asher’s fixations are fickle.
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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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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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Lap Dog
Weighing in at somewhere between 75-80 pounds, we don’t think of Asher as a lap dog. Especially, because he shows little interest in climbing up to sit on our laps. However, he seems to feel differently when he finds visitors sitting down.
Our kids stopped by on Sunday and Asher climbed up to sit on Julian.
Since that doesn’t happen very often, we captured the novel moment with a photo. It was just so cute. Little did we know, it would get even more photo-worthy.
I hadn’t been paying attention until Julian mentioned his legs were starting to fall asleep.
Asher was out cold, sprawled across the arm of the chair and Julian’s legs. Cyndie has tried many times without success to entice Asher to lie down by her to share his warmth. Silly dog.
Speaking of silly, I gave Asher full freedom to dig for something that was really captivating his nose. I’m glad there weren’t any buried cables in the vicinity. He chewed through roots and dug, and dug.
I wish I knew what he was smelling that interested him so much. Ultimately, he came up with nothing but dirt.
All that digging appeared to tire him out but still, he showed no interest in resting on our laps when we got back inside.
Maybe we should refer to him as being a selective lap dog.
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Around Again
Sitting on the cold, hard ground with a pile of dog treats beside me, I watched as Asher passionately made another manic pass around the neighbor’s outbuilding. Their cat had dashed under a tiny opening to avoid capture. Sure, I was feeling angry. He had clearly disrespected my commands for the last twenty minutes as he freely trotted along well beyond the repeatedly demonstrated limits of our property, but that wasn’t entirely unexpected.
No, what was irking me even more was the way our horse, Light, walked right up to my face while I was cutting through the back pasture and without warning, reared up on her hind legs giving me a much too close encounter with one of her front hooves. WTF, girl!
My startled audible response was enough to get all the horses to react, rearranging themselves to different positions. I didn’t have time to deal with them at the moment because I was on a mission to regain control of Asher while thinking about what model of shock collar I wanted to convince Cyndie we should buy.
When I crested the hill of the hay field, I caught sight of Asher and saw him turn toward me in response to my call. Then he crossed the road and continued his illicit sniff-fari along the cornfield’s edge in gross defiance.
I phoned Cyndie and asked her to ring the “dinner” bell at our front door because we’ve trained him to return to that and sometimes it actually works. He definitely heard it. He turned and began to run. I thought we had him and I started running for the gate near the driveway to meet him, but he kept going along the road and headed directly for the neighbor’s place with the cockapoo and the barn cat.
Did I mention it was cold? I really didn’t want to be sitting on the ground, but it was obvious that Asher was not going to allow me to catch him. I needed him to come to me. Offering food was not enough enticement. Each time he came around the building, he returned to the spot the cat had snuck under. Each time he took off around again, I moved closer to that spot.
Finally, I was able to reach him and attach the leash to his harness. I am not proud of my performance as I practically dragged him back the long walk to our house on that leash.
The ambiance in the house was warm and pleasant as I whipped dog and leash through the door before slamming it angrily to go feed the horses and pretend I wasn’t thoroughly pissed with Light’s unsafe behavior.
I was triggered, majorly. My old self would have proceeded ignorantly. I wanted to shut down. I didn’t want to look at the dog ever again. I didn’t want to be the only one feeding the horses every day. I didn’t want animals. I didn’t want to be married.
You see where this was headed. But, I know better now. My depression has been treated by professionals.
I have also learned life lessons from horses. I quickly got back to grazing. Deep breaths. When Light began her spastic leg flexing that always ends up spilling her feed pan, I stood beside her and moved my hand soothingly along her chest and leg until she calmed down.
We don’t always take the time to do that for her. In this case, I was also doing it for me.
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More Chews
This picture provides a great view of how Asher adores the custom homemade chew toys Cyndie has been creating for him:
After completing a craft project of her own, Cyndie wrapped leftover fabric scraps around chew toys Asher hasn’t been showing much fascination with for a while to give them new life. Adding a few morsels of smelly treats piques his interest and motivation to rip into the tantalizing new toys.
Even though they don’t last long, it’s fun to see his playful destruction occupy his mind with something creative when nothing else seems to be satisfying him for a moment.
I’m looking for all the distractions I can find to occupy him while deer hunters are out and about in our surrounding properties. Asher does not like being confined to quarters!
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Relative Something 