A Sick Dog on a Sundayby Lynn Stacy-Smith [caption id="attachment_4260" align="alignleft" width="312"] Jax enjoying the sun[/caption] I hate Murphy's Law. I prefer to follow the more positive, manifesting-good-stuff-from-the-universe mindset that everything is going to be awesome and work out. But then Murphy's Law strikes...you know, the whole "whatever can go wrong, will go wrong" nonsense. As far as dogs are concerned, Murphy's Law is most definitely that "if your dog is going to get sick or injured, it is going to be on a weekend!" If you, too are a dog owner, I know that you understand. Jackson had a bad case of colitis a few months ago, right after the start of the new year. I knew things were bad when he turned his nose up at food, something Labrador Retrievers simply do not do. Ever. After a trip to the vet, a prescription for Flagyl and some other antibiotics, he was on the mend and back to his normal happy, healthy, food loving self. Until yesterday afternoon...after the vet's office had closed. Normally I don't take the dogs to the vet right away for some run of the mill loose stools. I will give them some Perfect Form from The Honest Kitchen or a dose of a probiotic and wait a day or two to see if things firm up. Usually they do and we go on with our lives. Unfortunately, this time, Jackson's stomach woes moved from diarrhea to vomiting around bedtime last night and he and I were up for most of the night until around 4 a.m. The first two trips outside, within an hour of us going to bed, were to eliminate his bowels. I appreciated the urgency with which he woke me and literally ran to the door in order to not poop in our home, and I felt bad for the stress that he must be feeling since his ability to get outside depends entirely on me. Around midnight, diarrhea changed to vomiting and he whined and cried to go outside, at which point he ate grass until I made him stop and come back inside, then puked up the grass and bile immediately, and then whined and cried to go back outside to repeat the process. It was not a good night as I dealt with exhaustion and worried about him, and we both tried to figure out how to make him feel better. Because we have had a few incidents over the years of "empty tummy syndrome" with both dogs in the middle of the night, I decided to give him a tiny bit of food, which had the desired effect of temporarily settling his stomach so we could both get a bit of sleep. Miraculously, we did ok from 4 a.m. until 8 a.m. at which point he woke me to resume the grass-eating/grass-puking cycle. After considering all of my options this morning, I decided to mix a teaspoon of baking soda with a half a cup of water while I also prepared some plain white rice for him. The baking soda and water would essentially be the dog version of a homemade Tums and help decrease the stomach acid that seemed to be bothering him and causing him seek out the grass. I added a few spoonfuls of the baking soda water to a cup or so of rice and added a little dollop of canned pumpkin. He was not interested at first, but eventually he ate it, and we have not had any vomiting since, and it is now almost dinner. In a few hours, I will repeat this meal, only I will give him the baking soda mixture in a clean syringe that I kept from when we had a liquid medicine at some point before, since the pumpkin did not cover up the taste of the baking soda water like I had hoped. Needless to say, it has been a stressful twelve hours for me, between losing sleep, worrying about my beloved dog, cleaning up vomit in various spots on the carpet, trying to keep Tinkerbell from eating the vomit or trying to rough-house with her under-the-weather big brother. I gave up trying to sleep in my bed last night in favor of the sofa, so that I would be closer to a door to the outside when he nudged me with his beautiful black nose and gave the urgent "Mom, Mom, Mom gotta get out RIGHT now, this is NOT a drill" message to me. I am hoping we can move back up to our bedroom tonight if this combination of baking soda water, rice and pumpkin continues to do the trick. I've thought longingly that I just need a black market Flagyl dealer for these times when stomach and intestinal woes come at a time the vet clinic is not open, as I am pretty confident we have a week or so of that magical elixir in our future. Although in reality I would never give my dogs something illegally obtained and not from my trusted vet, such a situation is just a silly daydream as I pick pieces of kibble and grass out of my carpet and then squirt the area with vinegar and water. I know, though, there are many dog owners who would understand a cartoon or meme of a shady back alley deal between a desperate dog mom and someone with the ability to get their dog to stop vomiting. Of course, I will be setting an alarm for the moment the vet's office opens tomorrow morning to try to get a same day appointment for him. One of the benefits of staying with the same doctor and clinic for so many years is that they know me and are great at trying to get me in for these last minute things. I feel confident that the vet can fix him up, but I also worry about why he is going through this so soon after the last time. Is this a sign of what's to come now that my big boy is a middle aged dog, or is this simply because I have to keep switching to our backup brand of food due to the venison shortage in New Zealand that is likely impacting the availability of our regular food? His regular food has prebiotics, probiotics, and all sorts of ingredients that promote healthy digestion, so it could make sense that to put him on our second choice for food could be wreaking havoc without those special ingredients that he has eaten literally his entire life, even if the protein and binding agent are similar or identical. As a dog blogger, or any sort of blogger, I feel like I should try to share the best parts of dog ownership, the helpful tricks and tips, the funny stories, the heartwarming moments. But sometimes, dog ownership is hard and stressful, we lose sleep, we clean grass and bile out of our carpets, we sit on our deck at 3 a.m. on the verge of tears while our dogs eat grass that we know they are going to puke back up, we count down the hours until the vet's office opens, and we worry about why our babies are so under the weather. I know that we have all wanted our dogs to be able to just tell us what is the matter and what they need to feel better, and at the same time have them understand that if they just moved a few inches to the left that they could puke on the tile floor instead of the carpet. At the end of the day, this is what we signed up for. The good, the bad, and the yucky. I wouldn't give up a single moment of time with my dogs or wish away any of our experiences, although if you know anyone who wants to give a blogger a nice massage and maybe a nap under a warm blanket, I will happily write about that experience, too.
Jackson's Awkward Snugglingby Lynn Stacy-Smith If you've read my book or followed my blogs, you know that when Jackson was just two and a half weeks old, he sustained a broken leg. It was a freak accident in which his mother must have leaned on him in just the wrong way with her elbow while Jax was nursing with his legs stretched out behind him, breaking a small bone in one of his back legs. Because our breeder is the epitome of what a loving and responsible breeder should be, she was able to get him into the veterinarian for x-rays right away. She learned that it was a clean break, not near a growth plate, that would heal on its own without a cast and most likely never bother him again, which it has not. However, in order for this healing to occur, it meant that his three brothers would have to stay off of him, but also that special measures would have to be taken to ensure that he did not miss out on the critical social aspects of being in the whelping pen with his siblings. There are so many important developmental phases in those eight weeks that puppies and their mother spend together that there was no way he could miss out on being in the whelping pen. In order to keep Jackson with his mother and brothers in the whelping pen but also protect his leg, she used a small puppy sized travel crate for him to sleep in at night when the humans in the house were sleeping and not able to supervise things. During the day, someone was always there to watch things, so he had plenty of time with his mother and litter mates, so he was only in there at night, and I remember her saying that she would wake in the morning to find the other three boys snuggled up against the crate door to be near him, something so sweet and endearing that I tear up thinking about their instinct to be near each other, to be touching each other. And so, by the time we picked him up at eight weeks old, he was a happy, healthy, chunky Labrador pup, normal in every way, just like his brothers, but with the added bonus of already being used to sleeping in a crate. This made our lives much easier when he came home to us, because it was one less thing for him to get used to. He still had us up four times a night the first few weeks, he still gave a few little whimpers before settling down and going to sleep like any puppy the first few nights, but all in all he had already learned that sleep and a crate went together. This was fabulous at human bedtime but it had one negative side effect: we had a dog with zero interest in snuggling with us while he slept. None. Nada. Not happening. No matter how tired he was, no matter how much time he had played and frolicked and run puppy zoomies with his Basset Hound sister, he would not fall asleep on us, near us, or anywhere outside of his crate. Believe me, I tried to encourage him to snuggle up in a ball of sleeping puppy on my lap. He would sit sweetly next to me, he loved to receive affection, but he would never fall asleep. When he was a very small puppy I figured out that when he went from "energetic puppy" to "maniac puppy" that I needed to go and put him in his crate, at which point he would flop down as if he was grateful for the break. As he grew older, anytime he grew tired, he would literally walk away in the middle of what we were doing, trot over to his living room crate (we had two, one in our bedroom, one in our main living area) and plop down. Every. Single. Time. Every now and then he will still do this, so that I'm in the middle of giving him an ear scratch and he just walks away and lays down in his kennel. I tried my hardest to show him the joy in snuggling, I encouraged him to become a giant lap dog who doesn't know his own size like every single other Labrador I had ever had in my life. If he was drifting off to sleep in his crate I even went so far as to pick him up and put him on the sofa next to me, but he would hop right back down, and go back into his crate. I used training treats and taught him "up" and that he was not only permitted but encouraged to get on all of the furniture. He would lay on the sofa and chew on an antler or nibble on a toy, or lay next to us without touching, but still no snuggling. Fortunately, he has become more snuggly over the years. He's always been a sweet, loyal and loving dog, he just is a solo sleeper. It's kind of like he's saying, "I'll take that tummy rub and you can scratch behind my ears...ok, that's plenty, now I'm going to go nap over here on my own. Love you, mean it!" [caption id="attachment_4245" align="alignleft" width="373"] Awkward Snuggling with a Labrador Lean throw in.[/caption] Out of nowhere in the last year or so, Jackson has realized he loves to join my husband on the sofa. We have "his and her" spots on our sofa, and when my husband is in his spot, Jax jumps up, leans all of his 78 pounds of body weight on my husband's chest in what is known among Labrador lovers as the "Labrador Lean" and then slowly slides down until his head is on the sofa cushion next to my husband's leg and his butt and tail are up in the air up by my hubby's armpit before sliding all the way down on his back, legs up in the air and ready for a tummy rub. The first few times Jackson did this, my husband laughed and said, "Oh, Jackson, you are learning to snuggle but you sure are an awkward dog!" Jax started to do this behavior more and more and my husband would tell him, "Come on up, buddy, come on and awkwardly snuggle with me." One day I was home alone and Tinkerbell was snoozing comfortably in my spot on the sofa, so I sat in my husband's normal spot. Jax came over to me and laid his head on the sofa and looked up at me. "Awkward snuggle with Momma?" I asked him hopefully. To my elated surprise, he jumped up, threw all of his weight up against my chest, and went into his usual position. "Good boy, awkward snuggle, good boy, awkward snuggle, good boy," I told him to reinforce the language to him. Since then Jackson has learned that Awkward Snuggle is indeed fun, he now responds to just the word "awkward" as an invitation to jump up with us, and he has extended the amount of time that he spends on the sofa with us, even napping sweetly next to us for as long as an hour. We have learned that he will do this behavior with any human who is sitting in that spot, but will not do Awkward Snuggling on any other piece of furniture in the room or at the other end of the same sofa. It must be that exact spot. However, Awkward Snuggling has led to some other new and pleasantly surprising snuggling opportunities, like the day he napped sweetly next to me like a "normal" dog with his head on my lap, stretched out sideways on the cushion next to me. Our big boy just turned seven yesterday, and while I kinda miss the insanity that comes along with two young Labrador Retrievers, I adore the big chilled-out, mature boy that he has become. He is nowhere close to acting like a senior dog or slowing down physically, and he definitely gets mischief in his mind from time to time, but he has a soothing, calm vibe to him. We have our unspoken language that we share, and our bond just gets better and better daily. His snuggling may be a little awkward, but his place as a special heart dog comes quite naturally.
Springsteen Lyrics, Dog Training, and What They Have in Commonby Lynn Stacy-Smith The other day I was driving in my car, and I turned on the radio. Of course it was set to its usual position on Sirius XM's EStreet Radio, which is where it remains whether I'm running down the backstreets, if I'm going to drive all night, and especially when the highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive. In fact, I've been listening almost exclusively to Springsteen ever since my parents bought me my first Springsteen record in 1986. And before you think it was Born in the USA that set this obsession in motion, it was actually the Live 1975-1985 boxed set that swept me up into this thirty plus year love of all things Bruce. I am an old soul and a creature of habit musically, happily jamming out to concerts that were recorded when I was just a young Jerseygirl, playing on the swing set in Sparta, New Jersey with our dog Snoop by my side.Basically I have been living with a Labrador Retriever by my side and a Bruce Springsteen song on the radio for the majority of my life. The other day I was cruising home after a meeting, music cranked up as loud as it could go (the dogs were waiting at home for me) and singing my heart out to one song after another, with all of their complicated lyrics flowing from my brain and voice without a single mistake. This is of course a regular occurrence that happens literally every time I go somewhere, but in the middle of singing I started laughing as I realized I had cruised right past the healthy pet food store and I desperately needed to replenish our supply of dog treats. "How on earth can I remember every single word to a massive catalog of songs with super complicated lyrics yet I cannot remember to stop at the store for one single thing that's been on my to-do list for a week," I mused to myself. Then it occurred to me. The same reason I knew the words to nearly every single Springsteen song is the same reason my dogs know that when I put certain shoes on my feet it means that I am taking them outside versus going somewhere without them. The same reason I know all of the special nuances I am listening to the live version of a song is the same reason the dogs know where to turn to head for home when we go for a walk. That reason is repetition, repetition, repetition. Nearly every training article you will read about dogs mentions the importance of repetition anytime you want to teach your dog something. It is through this exact method that I can sing you the complicated lyrics of a song like Jungleland but I cannot repeat the directions my husband just told me on how to get from location A to location B or remember to pick up some Fruitables for the dogs. I have sung that song hundreds of times in the last thirty or more years, correcting myself when I made a mistake; I have only heard the driving directions from my hubby once. As for the dog treats, I suppose that is an outlier from these examples because dog treats are on my shopping list all the time. Repetition is what has those lyrics stuck in my head when the directions were gone the moment my husband spoke them. Repetition is the reason why my dogs know that the act of me checking to make sure the back door is locked does not necessarily mean that I want them to do anything, but the act of me checking to make sure the back door is locked paired with grabbing a dog treat from the counter means that they are going into their crates. Now this is the important part: your dog is watching your actions and learning from repetition whether you want him to or not. This means that you might be teaching your dog to do things that you do not want her to do, entirely by accident. The best example of this in our own home is Jackson's "bad" habit of stealing things from our living room side tables when he wants to play with me. It goes all the way back to puppyhood when he was in the puppy version of the terrible twos. If you've ever raised a Labrador Retriever puppy, you know the age that I mean. It's that time when your puppy has become comfortable in his or her new home and is getting into everything with their razor-sharp puppy teeth and a seemingly endless amount of energy. It's that portion of puppy rearing when in one short minute they might do things like bite down on your Achilles tendon with the force of a velociraptor, chew on the leg of your favorite table, attack your throw pillows, grab onto your shirt sleeve with all their might, and then stare you in the face as they pee on the floor just five minutes after their last potty break outside. Jackson was particularly crazy and brazen at this age, and I spent hours each day redirecting his attention, telling him "no" when he tried to destroy our worldly possessions, thrusting a toy or antler into his mouth telling him "yessssss, good boy" whenever he had a dog friendly item in his mouth, and then engaging him in a play session for as long as his attention span would allow it until he went on to locate the next contraband item to test with his mouth. Eventually Jackson figured out through repetition and a lot of trial and error that he was not in fact allowed to destroy our home and that he had his own toys and chewy things always available whenever he wanted to play or chew. Now, if you've read my blogs before, you know that I refer to Jackson as being "Sheldon Cooper smart" and that if he was a human he would probably have a PhD, studying string theory or dark matter somewhere. But, he is a dog, and instead of figuring out the universe, he has used his magnificent brain to figure out that any time he wants to play with me or get my attention, all he has to do is be naughty. And if you guessed that he learned through repetition, you are correct! In retrospect, I probably should have removed myself from the play session when he needed to be corrected during those formative puppy rearing days, more like what a mother dog would do, but redirecting his attention from the contraband item and engaging him in play with an appropriate toy worked so well that I never questioned what I was doing. Plus, I've never had a dog so freakishly smart as this one. We used the same method with Tinkerbell and she has not developed this knowledge of how to get my attention. She just walks up to me and drops a toy in my lap if she wants to play. Jackson, though, at six years old, still jumps onto the sofa, grabs the nearest thing he can, and starts to destroy it as he watches me with a side eye to see if I am going to come and stop him. He's snatched up pens, books, magazines, catalogs, bottles of hand lotion, several remote controls, and even a picture frame. Of course I've tried to outsmart him by removing all objects from the side tables, but when I did that he grabbed a table lamp and tried to steal it. He also only does this when he wants me to play with him. He has never once done this when my husband is with him or to get the attention of any of our teens. Only me. Of course I take full credit for accidentally teaching this to him and I am working hard to un-teach this behavior. Whenever he jumps up onto the sofa to grab something from the side tables, I tell him a firm no and force myself to not engage in fun playtime with him as a result of his demands. It is not easy, though, as he throws himself onto the ground with his legs in the air and his big otter tail wagging, waiting for me to rub his tummy as if he's saying, "Ok, momma, I stole the stuff, now it's your turn to come play with me!" Now I wait fifteen or twenty minutes after he's given up and then invite him back over for a tummy rub and some Jackson/Momma time. It breaks my heart to ignore him, but he seems to be catching on bit by bit that I do not react favorably anymore. He is learning that all he needs to do to get my attention is to roll upside down for a tummy rub or offer me a toy without being destructo-dog. I know that many dog owners struggle with bad habits that their dogs have picked up, but they do not realize that they have accidentally helped their dog learn the behavior. In the same way you know all of the lyrics to your favorite songs, your dog is learning from you and the actions that you are doing, whether you want them to learn that behavior or not. Just like with Jackson, some of those behaviors are favorable and some of them probably drive you nuts. Fortunately you can change these behaviors with additional training so that they will stop doing the things that you accidentally taught them. As for myself and my love of Springsteen music, I am not as easy to retrain, much to the dismay of the non-Springsteen loving humans of my house who would probably give me all of the treats and cookies they could find if I would just stop the behavior that I learned so many years ago as I listened to my first Springsteen album with a Labrador Retriever by my side.
I have included a free printable worksheet for you to think through and identify some of those behaviors. If you are not sure about how to remedy an issue and if it is more serious than an annoying habit, always partner with a professional dog trainer. My favorite resource for finding a trainer is to start with the Association of Professional Dog Trainers website: APDT Trainer Search. Click here to download your worksheet: Worksheet for Springsteen Lyrics, Dog Training and What they Have in Common
Jackson, the Tissue and the Angel Dogs in Our Lifeby Lynn Stacy-Smith Friday was a hard day for my dog loving friends. For one friend it was the one year anniversary of the passing of her beloved Golden Retriever who passed away at just ten years old after a battle with hemangiosarcoma, a type of cancer. While I talked on the phone with her on Friday afternoon, one of my best friends was saying goodbye to her fourteen year old Labrador Retriever. That friend had spent at least a year agonizing over how her dog was feeling, if she was living a good quality of life or in pain, and when she would know that the time was right to make the hardest decision that any dog owner has to make. Unfortunately I have been in both situations, I lost my Dutchdog to hemangiosarcoma and was in a similar decision-making process to my friend's senior Labrador with my late Babe, so I could empathize with both of my friends. I had never met my friend's Golden Retriever, but I felt like I knew him because of her posts, photos and videos of him on Facebook. I have laughed at his antics, cried when she shared with us that he was sick, prayed for him when he was going through treatment, cried again when he passed, and watched her share her memories of him in the year since she said goodbye. With my other friend's Labrador, I remember when she and her husband got her as a puppy, before they were married, before they owned a home, before they added human kids and another Lab to their family. We had all lived in Indiana, and around the same time they moved to Michigan and I moved to Illinois, so although I did not get to see her often, once again, I had fallen in love with her sweet dog through photos and social media posts and my friend's stories of their life together. I have laughed and cried as I've followed her dog's life, and I cried a great deal on Friday. Yesterday, two days after her dog's passing, I was sitting on my living room floor messaging back and forth with my friend and talking about how she, her husband, her kids and their other dog were all doing. I gave some suggestions on how to help the surviving dog through this time and I also mentioned that some of my friends referred to their late dogs as an angel and referred to them with that in their name, like Angel Dutch or Angel Babe, and how that might help her kids still remember their dog and understand that while she was no longer on earth, that their memories could live on. We talked about the story of the Rainbow Bridge and how we both hoped it was real, and that over the course of our lifetime we might both have a small pack waiting for us. I mentioned how I picture all of my dogs, Babe, Dutch, and Maggie, all reunited as angels, pain free, and playing together. Maybe my Mom and our other late dogs Snoop, Cinder, Jake, and Beau are there, too, everyone reunited and happy, their bodies healthy again. Of course this conversation put me in tears again, and as I sat on the floor and typed in my phone and cried, I realized I had a tissue in the pocket of my hoodie, and I used it to wipe away my tears. Jackson and Tinkerbell had noticed that I was upset, and Tinkerbell had come and laid next to me, her beautiful head resting on my lap, her brown eyes looking up as if to say, "Momma, don't be upset!" Jackson came over to me and licked my face and nuzzled me, and just as I was in the middle of telling him that he was the sweetest boy in the world, he reached over and grabbed the tissue with his mouth, ripping it in half and stepping out of my reach. Before I could wrestle it from his mouth, he chewed and ate it. "Jackson! You little sneak! I thought you were coming to comfort me, and instead you wanted my tissue," I exclaimed, laughing at the whole situation as I looked at the half of the tissue still in my hand. He stood nearby, his ears perked up, head tilted, and his thick otter tail wagging playfully, as if he was laughing at the joke with me. That simple moment was one of the hundreds of thousands of reasons why we love dogs so much, why they make the most magnificent friends and companions, and why it is so devastating when we have to say goodbye to them. You see, I actually think that it was all a plan to make me feel better. Experts might say I am wrong, that dogs do not think like that, but I have seen the mind of Jackson at work. As my breeder said about him when we were trying to decide which puppy to take, "I think this puppy is going to grow into a very special dog," and I can tell you that Jackson is one heck of a smart dog to the point where we call him the Sheldon Cooper of dogs. I have seen him outsmart Tinkerbell hundreds of times with his wit and problem solving skills. I have watched him work hard to get some alone time for a tummy rub by luring her away with her favorite toy or moose antler, waiting for her to become involved in playing with it, and then laying back down next to me for a tummy rub without his kid sister interrupting him. I have watched him try to get her to come back inside the house so he can poop without his sister following less than six inches behind him. And I have watched him come when I called him, stop halfway to the house, turn around to go potty, and then resume obeying the recall command. So it is not out of the realm of possibility that he stole that tissue to make me laugh and stop the weird human crying thing that they know means we are sad. When I sat down to write this blog, I thought of a saying that I've seen from time to time across social media. It says, "God sent angels down to earth in the form of dogs with notes saying, "Don't judge... just love." The dogs ate the notes... but they keep trying to deliver the message." I love that quote, not just because of Jackson's love of eating paper, but because it completely captures the essence of dogs and why we love them. Dogs love with their whole hearts. They don't hold back their love, they just love us without judgement, in the purest and most gentle and honest way. But they are silly and playful, too, and they just seem to know what we need, like a gentle, loving nuzzle followed by stealing and eating the very tissue that I was using to wipe my eyes. Jackson's antics did exactly what I believe he intended: I stopped crying and started laughing in that exact moment. I think about the losses of Babe and then Dutch. Losing both of them broke my heart; in my book I talk about the devastation I felt and how each time I did not want to face the world for several days because of the agonizing pain. And then, by opening my heart and home again, I welcomed first Jackson and then Tinkerbell into my heart. The "new" dogs never replace the dogs who have passed on to be angels; instead they simply join the ranks of the "heart" dogs who have come before them because the heart can hold as much love as you can feel. It is the reason they are so easy to love, such natural companions for humans, and also the reason that it is so devastating every time we have to say goodbye to them. In the last several years I've been learning a lot about energy, the universe, and how even though our loved ones may not be in their physical bodies anymore, that their energy still remains with us. Although I do not want to get in a religious discussion or offend anyone who believes differently, I like this idea. It is soothing and positive. I like the idea that my Mom's energy is with me as I go through my day, giving me her strength and support even if she cannot be with me physically. I like the idea that the energy of my late dogs is also with me, so that not only do I get to live side by side with Jackson and Tinkerbell on this earth, but with Angel Babe, Angel Dutch, Angel Maggie, Angel Snoop, Angel Cinder, Angel Jake, and Angel Beau. They may not be here in the form that I want, so that I can touch and hug them, play fetch with them or get doggie kisses from them, but they are with me all the same.
In loving memory of Angel Chesney and Angel Shooter
Jax, Tink and Canine Standard Timeby Lynn Stacy-Smith Although Daylight Savings Time ended over three weeks ago, for Jackson and Tinkerbell the time change just happened two weeks ago when my husband and I returned home from two weeks out-of-town. It has not been an easy transition. To say that Jax and Tink are creatures of habit is a massive understatement. If all watches and clocks were to malfunction from some sort of electrical pulse, we would know when it was 6 a.m., noon, and 6 p.m. each and every day. Jax and Tink would be certain of that. Our dog sitter who stays with them when we travel takes amazing care of our dogs, but as a college student she has a much different schedule than I do. She is not always able to get meals and potty breaks in at the exact time that the dogs expect them, so their time with her is on a much more random schedule. It is this way every time she watches them, though, and they do not seem to keep her to their schedule the way they do me. In fact since I get an alert to my phone any time someone disarms our security system, I could see that they were not getting her up before 6 a.m. either before or after Daylight Savings Time ended. As soon as we returned home, both dogs immediately went back on their Daylight Savings Time schedule. No more "we're living like a college student's dogs, eating dinner sometime in the evening and being super chilled out about it!" Nope, it was as if they thought, "Momma is home, back to our strict routine!" Of course since dogs cannot understand our human time keeping and how we could jump forward or fall back in time, to them, this meant that their biological clocks said that 5 a.m. was the time for them to wake me up for their morning potty break and breakfast. And since they start to get excited about this favorite part of their day at least a half an hour to an hour early, this meant that I felt the first cold nose in my face anytime between 4 and 4:30 a.m. "No, go lay down, it's not time yet!" I told Jax on our first morning home. He was sitting upright next to the bed like he always does when it's time to wake me, his face right in front of mine without actually touching me. As he groaned a doggie groan of displeasure, I repeated, "Go lay down, Jax, it's not time yet!" We do this a lot, so I picked up my bottle of Lavender oil, opened the lid and wafted it around the air above me, something both dogs have learned means "It's not time yet, go back to sleep!" Jax didn't budge. He did another groan/whimper and I stuck my head out and kissed his nose. "I'm going to kiss your nose again if you don't go lay back down," I told him. He turned his head to the side to avoid me but didn't move. At this point Tinkerbell took matters into her own paws. Much less subtle than her big brother, she leapt onto the bed, stood with all four legs straddling me, and began licking my face and pawing at the covers to pull them off of me. When she became so animated (aka crazy) that she began to nibble my chin, I admitted defeat and got up. We repeated this for the next week, making slight progress toward the 6 a.m. goal. We finally reached that over Thanksgiving weekend, and we are now working on the evening schedule, too. Now, it's important to know that I know my dogs and the messages they are giving me, and I can tell when they truly need to go outside versus simply wanting me to get up to start our day. They hold their tails differently or run over to the door instead of sitting by the bed and nudging me or licking me. On days when they truly have a pending potty problem, we are up no matter the time on the human clock. [caption id="attachment_3764" align="alignleft" width="225"] Please feed me my supper![/caption] We have a similar struggle in the evening, too. Currently it is 4:18 p.m., so prior to the end of Daylight Savings Time, we would have been a mere 45 minutes away from Puppy Supper. Except now Daylight Savings Time has ended and they are both staring at me from across the room. I could go ahead and feed them now, but to get them to wait until 6 a.m. to wake me up, Puppy Supper cannot be early or the rumbling of empty stomachs gets them moving far earlier in the morning than this human momma is ready. Part of me has considered going onto what I call Canine Standard Time, aka The Dog Schedule. I've thought through all of the things I could get done by getting up at 4 a.m. in a house full of non-morning people. I would have the house entirely to myself. Coffee could be consumed, blogs could be written, social media posts created, all before the girls headed off to school for the day. [caption id="attachment_3765" align="alignleft" width="203"] The intense stare of the Tinkerbell.[/caption] Except then I remember that my brain works best in the evening, that midnight blogs are far more frequent than morning blogs in my self-employed world, and I could easily get a role as an extra in The Walking Dead as I shuffle toward the yard to take the dogs outside each day in my under caffeinated state. I am not the type to be productive at 4 in the morning unless perhaps it is because I am still awake from the night before. As a lifelong dog owner, I have mastered the art of the "second sleep" a very, very long time ago. While I thought this was something only dog owners and parents of young children embraced, it turns out that sleeping in two different time periods was actually the practice of many of our ancestors from around the world many centuries ago. According to an article in Slumberwise, humans went to go to bed for twelve hours, with an initial period of sleep that lasted three to four hours, followed by a few hours of being awake, and then another period of sleep until morning. In an interesting article on Science Alert, the writers make the point that humans might do better resuming this practice. So what did people do during these hours of awake time? According to both articles, they read, prayed, thought about their dreams or sometimes worked on creating new humans (you know what I mean). This sounds rather familiar, as I often check my social media or my email or watch a bit of TV in the time between Jax and Tink get me up before dawn and when I go back to sleep for a few hours after their bowels and bladders are emptied and their stomachs are full. Perhaps Jax and Tink are onto something and I should try to truly embrace having sleep broken up into two parts. Perhaps they have some sort of special wisdom and knowledge of better health and a more refreshed body as a result of getting me up only three or four hours after I go to sleep, keeping me awake for an hour, and then letting me go back to sleep for that second time frame. I mean, I do comment on a regular basis that I wished I had their energy, and dogs are known for splitting up their own sleep times. Or perhaps they are hungry Labradors who like to eat and cannot fathom why I am suddenly making them wait when just a few weeks ago I did what they wanted when they wanted. Either way, we will get through the time change adjustment as we get through all things, with patience and training; just in time for the clocks to leap forward again in the spring. [caption id="attachment_3658" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Are you on the Love, Laugh, Woof mailing list? Sign up here![/caption]
Disney Vacations and Epic Labrador Greetingsby Lynn Stacy-Smith Walt Disney World in Florida is known as The Most Magical Place on Earth, while Disneyland in California is famously referred to as The Happiest Place on Earth. For those of you who love dogs and Disney like I do, we all know that the happiest and most magical place on earth for us is anywhere our dogs are with us, with the Disney parks and the fun waiting inside of them taking second place to time spent with our real life furry best friends. Twice a year, or as much as we can afford to, my husband and I put Jackson and Tinkerbell in the capable hands of our most trusted and responsible dog sitter and head to Orlando, Florida to indulge our love of all things Disney. At home we are complete home bodies, preferring to save our entertainment budget for trips to see the famous mouse and his friends. In fact if I had to list my favorite restaurants, they would all be in the parks and hotels of Disney World. When we do Disney, we do it with great intensity, which is why you haven't seen a blog since we headed to Florida. Alarms are set so that we can be ready and waiting when the parks open, ready to race-walk to our favorite attractions. Some days we will stay at the parks from open until close, which sometimes means 8 am until 2 am. We are experts at avoiding lines, and when we get the chance to do so, we are like kids, getting off of one attraction and getting right back on to ride it again and again, or crossing the park to get to an attraction with a short wait time. According to my husband's Garmin, we walked 100 miles over eight days during this most recent vacation. Of course, like they say in the fairy tale inspired show Once Upon a Time, "magic always comes with a price" and for me that price is that I miss my dogs like crazy whenever I am away from them! Having a few trusted pet sitters in my life makes it easier to leave them in capable hands, but that does not take away the "dog withdrawal" feelings that inevitably strike. To make up for not having my dogs with me, I try to enjoy the novelty of a short break from daily 6 a.m. wake up calls and laugh with my husband about how odd it feels to have the entire bed to ourselves and be able to stretch our legs out straight. Usually on the first night I have a moment of panic when I think about how long we've been away from our hotel because 90 percent of the time, being away from home for more than eight or so hours means our beautiful dogs are waiting on us to go outside and go potty. Being the afore mentioned home bodies, though, I cannot remember the last time we were both away from the house for more than eight hours. Of course I text my dog sitter at least once a day. "How's everything going?" I ask, trying to appear casual. Since I am hopeless at covering up my emotions, I am sure she knows that what my text really means is, "How are my sweet babies who are literally my heart and soul and who I have trusted you to care for according to my super strict rules and standards in my absence...no pressure!" Although Disney recently announced a pilot program in which dogs are allowed at select resorts, we stay in Disney Vacation Club properties, which are not part of the dog program. Dogs in the parks are of course limited to service dogs or police dogs in the parking lots, and even if pets were allowed, I would never take Jax and Tink there. Between blazing hot pavement and large crowds, theme parks are not exactly dog friendly. As a result, there are not a lot of dogs anywhere on property to help ease the dog withdrawal pains, and not any who you can touch or pet. In fact, someone could probably operate a service where vacationers who miss their dogs could drop in and play with dogs for an hour to get a much-needed dose of puppy love, maybe with rescued dogs with the funds going to charity. This year I was elated to come across a gorgeous Golden Retriever service dog that was owned by a Disney cast member (employee) who was working in one of the shops in one of the parks. I saw him as we rounded the corner out of the attraction and into the gift shop and at first glance I thought it was another guest's dog, until I saw that he had his very own Disney name tag. My heart melted as I watched him get up and help his human carry stuffed toys over to a rack to help stock the shelves. Of course service dogs cannot interact with people other than their owners, but it felt good to simply be in the presence of a dog. Usually by the end of a trip I am so desperate to see a dog that I am praying that the police dogs will want to sniff me at the airport. I think my husband has visions of me throwing myself at the feet of an officer, begging to pet the dog, because he often issues a preemptive warning, "You can't pet the police or TSA dogs!" to which my reply is, "I'm aware of that, although I wouldn't mind if they thought I looked shady and they just let him sniff me, I've got nothing to hide!" Some people claim that dogs cannot tell the passing of time and whether or not their owner is gone for one day or two weeks. I am not a scientist, I have not done official research on this, but I can tell you that our greetings after a long vacation are epic compared to a run to the post office or even an overnight trip. [caption id="attachment_3749" align="alignleft" width="271"] Reunited with my loves![/caption] This year we arrived home late in the evening and seemed to catch the dogs completely off guard. Our dog sitter was there waiting for us, watching TV in the living room while the dogs snoozed on the sofa like they do each night. Of course usually these evening activities happen with us already home. I opened the door and Tinkerbell trotted around the corner into the hallway, not in a big hurry. She quickly realized it was me and she raced forward and jumped nearly into my arms, showering me with kisses. Jackson ran into the hallway behind her, his massive otter tail wagging furiously, his entire body wiggling with joy. We went into the living room and I sat on the floor and let them climb all over me. My entire face was covered in slobber, my clothes covered in fur, and I was back in my own personal, ultimate happy place, full of magic and Labrador love.
Jax and Tink Prove How Quickly Your Dog Can Get into Troubleby Lynn Stacy-Smith If you've followed my blog or read my book, you know that I have a very firm rule about never allowing Jackson and Tinkerbell to go outside without a human present at all times. This rule is in place for a variety of reasons, including making certain that the gates are shut and latched, that nobody (like a utility worker or neighborhood child) comes into the yard while we are out there, and to make sure that the dogs stay out of the type of mischief that a curious dog can easily create. [caption id="attachment_3519" align="alignright" width="300"] Chilling in the yard[/caption] As the dogs have grown from puppies to adults, the fear of them getting into something that they shouldn't be eating or touching has diminished somewhat, but they are still dogs, and dogs explore the world with their noses and mouths. Most days, though, I stand outside with them while the most exciting thing that they do is sniff their world and search for treasures of rabbit poop or the certain type of grass on which they love to graze like adorable, small black cows. At four and six years old they get into fewer and fewer situations that would require my intervention, but the "humans outside with dogs at all times" rule will stand for the their entire lives, no exceptions. Last week I had grand plans of filming a product demo for the KeepSafe Breakaway Safety Collar as promised in the blog in which I reviewed this amazing collar. The first part of the video went great, I sat on my deck steps and recorded an introduction to the product, and both dogs came over to give me kisses and "say hello" to the audience, without being told to do so. They were well-behaved as I showed the features of the collar using Jackson as my model, how you hook it to the metal loops if you want to take your dog for a walk and how that acts as an "override" for the breakaway function, since you don't want a collar that breaks apart if your dog pulls on a walk, you only want that breakaway functionality when your dog is wearing it off leash. After I watched the video, there were some changes in lighting I wanted to make and a few edits to my comments, so I set about the task of doing a few more versions, as well as recording demonstrations without the dogs so that I could show the collar around the slats of our fence and deck. Jax and Tink were happy to come and duplicate the "giving kisses" part of the intro and be my model to show how to hook the leash to the collar and override the breakaway function, but when it was time for me to record without them, I swear they knew that they did not have my attention like normal and set about being intentionally naughty. I had expected them to do their normal thing and sniff around the yard, calm and mellow like normal adult dogs. Instead they chose to "exceed" my expectations by getting into every single thing that they could in our yard. Many experts will say that dogs don't think this way, but it was like they were working together and doing "bad" things on purpose. Over the summer our decorative bird house had gone crashing onto our deck during a storm, breaking it apart. It seemed as though it could be put back together, though, and since it was a gift that my husband had brought back to me from a motorcycle trip the first year we knew each other, I did not want to just throw it out. I had carefully placed all of the pieces on top of a deck box on our deck for him to try to fix when he got a chance, and the dogs had not noticed it or touched it since it happened in June. Also over the summer, my husband had purchased a hammock for himself and set it up it on the deck. Because it is so windy in our back yard, instead of leaving it set up, he took one side down so that both ends of the hammock hung from the same side of the metal stand and the hammock stayed folded in half until we wanted to use it. This has also been in the same spot on the deck since June and except for Jax trying to pee on it once, both dogs have also left this item alone. [caption id="attachment_3718" align="alignleft" width="297"] Jax proving that a human should always be watching[/caption] As I filmed a few versions of the demonstration of the collar's breakaway feature, I saw Tinkerbell race across the yard out of my peripheral vision. I know my dogs very well, and I could tell immediately that she had her "I've got something and I'm not going to give it to you" posture as she ran across the yard, her athletic body tucked down low and fast so that she could take corners with ease and play "keep away from Momma" with her contraband item. "WHOA!" I called out to her, "Stop!!" She stopped and went down into a play stance, a huge piece of cardboard hanging from her mouth. "Drop it!" I told her and approached her slowly. She took off at top speed and raced around me, stopping behind me and dropping into her play stance again. "Tinkerbell, I'm not playing," I said in my deepest, most stern dog training voice, "DROP IT." That did the trick and she let me take the cardboard, her tail wagging furiously as if saying, "But Momma, that was FUN!" I walked up onto the deck to put the cardboard on our table, gave Jax (who was just standing on the deck waiting to go inside) a scratch under the chin and told him that he was a good dog, and went back over to our fence to try to get another video recorded. Less than a minute passed and I glanced over to make sure that Tinkerbell had not grabbed anything else, and I saw Jackson tangled completely in the ropes that attach the hammock to the stand. "Jackson, what are you doing, crazy dog?" I called, and ran over to free him. "Buddy, what the heck are you doing?" I asked him. He had his head tangled up in the ropes, one was double wrapped around his leg, and as I walked up he tried to free himself and became even more entangled. "Whoa!" I told him, feeling thankful twice in literally a few minutes that we had taught that command to both dogs. As I freed him, I turned around to see Tinkerbell snatch a long black strip of wood from the bird house, leap off the deck, and run top speed across the yard as far as she could. "Tinkerbell, STOP!" I called again, "What the hell is wrong with you dogs??" I asked to the air, both frustrated and laughing at the same time. This time she gave up her treasure without any fuss, standing there while I came over and took it from her. "Ok, I think we're going to stop making this video for the day," I told her as she trotted along happily next to me. As I reached the deck I saw Jackson trying to make his way behind our gas grill to get to the fat trap that was full of rainwater and disgusting grease from a summer of grilling. "Jackson, OFF!" I told him just in time and body blocked him before he could take a lick of watery grease. I had blocked the access to this doggie delicacy with deck chairs because he had tried this on many other occasions. We headed inside the house and I sat on the floor with them and played like we normally do every day at 4 pm and I laughed to myself about their behavior. "What on earth were you guys doing, Momma has to work to buy you food and cookies!" I told them as they brought me bones to hold and engaged me in our favorite game of 3-way-tug-o-war. My video attempt was most definitely the epitome of the "laugh" of Love, Laugh, Woof. Sure they were going out of their way to be "bad" but I could not help but laugh at their timing and how it really seemed intentional to get my attention back to them. Since I was losing daylight, instead of filming my own video, I found an excellent video featuring the creator of the collar and shared that instead. I thought about how Jax and Tink had done an excellent job of proving my point that you should always go outside with your dogs and pay attention to what they are doing no matter how old they are, because they can find themselves in a dangerous position within a matter of seconds. Jax's escapades with the ropes of the hammock could have become a deadly choking hazard within minutes, and Tink could have easily swallowed shards of wood or perhaps nails or staples had she snatched up a piece with those in it if I had not been there to make her give it up. I will also be checking to see how dog proofed our yard is and not assume that because I am outside with them all the time or that they are grown adult dogs that certain items will not become hazardous on any given day. While this was intended to be a somewhat humorous story of how they were naughty on purpose to get my attention and that I will be recruiting a helper for videos going forward, it is dual purpose as it points out the very serious matter that it only takes a few seconds for your dog to end up in danger in your own yard or inside your home with everyday objects, with or without a collar on. The KeepSafe Breakaway Collar definitely helps alleviate some of the risks involving choking by a collar, but I also strongly recommend always supervising your dog in the yard whether on their own or when playing with the other dog(s) in your home.
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Networking With Your Dog: Tinkerbell's First Restaurant Tripby Lynn Stacy-Smith Every June lucky dogs throughout the country are able to go to work with their humans to celebrate Take Your Dog to Work Day. With a self-employed dog blogger as their dog mom, for Jackson and Tinkerbell, every day is Take Your Dog to Work Day. This year, however, a friend of mine from my all-time favorite networking group, Women Entrepreneur's Secrets of Success (WESOS) decided to make up her own Take Your Dog to Network Day and arranged a meeting for any of her self-employed dog owner contacts to meet for a networking lunch with our furry best friends. When the actual Take Your Dog to Network Day came around we had inclement weather, so the meet up was rescheduled for Friday, July 14. Since July is normally extremely warm here in the Chicagoland area, I chose to take Tinkerbell with me since she does a bit better in warmer temperatures. [caption id="attachment_3573" align="alignleft" width="225"] Tinkerbell enjoying her walk along the Dupage River[/caption] A friend asked how I can take just one of them with me at a time, and the answer is that although I feel horrible taking one dog on a fun adventure and leaving the other home, I make sure I alternate who goes with me to make it fair in my own mind. They don't remember, but I do, and so Jackson will get the next big adventure out into public or that consists of more than just a walk around the neighborhood. Although they walk well on a leash together and we take the majority of our walks together, it is still easier for me to enjoy our time out on a big adventure with one dog at a time. Otherwise instead of enjoying that time with that particular dog and seeing his or her personality shine through, I am worried that one is snarfing up something from the ground like a piece of random food or animal waste while the other is sniffing something in another direction. The day of the networking lunch we also received a spur of the moment invitation to be interviewed for a friend's new webcast in the morning, so Tinkerbell and I headed out around 9:30 am. Part of my friend's webcast includes her giving her guest a professional blowout in her home based hair salon, so this was Tinkerbell's first experience in a hair salon. She was so excited to be in this new situation that she kept forgetting that she is not allowed to jump on people, so she jumped a bit on my friend before calming down to sniff every inch of the salon and then chilled by my feet while I had my hair dried. [caption id="attachment_3574" align="alignright" width="225"] Tinkerbell in front of the Naperville Carillon[/caption] We did the interview outside and Tinkerbell was elated to sniff around the yard and explore a heavily wooded yard which is the complete opposite of our house on what used to be a cornfield. I was elated that although both Jackson and Tinkerbell sometimes have selective hearing in our own yard, that in this strange yard as soon as I said her name or gave her the "come" command that she immediately turned to look at me or ran straight to me. [caption id="attachment_3567" align="alignleft" width="225"] Tinkerbell at the Riverwalk Cafe[/caption] After we left our friend's salon we headed to the Naperville, Illinois Riverwalk, which is a beautiful walking trail and park along the West Branch of the Dupage River. In fact my husband and I had part of our first date there as well as our engagement photos a few years later, so it is definitely a happy place for me. Tinkerbell loved it too and happily trotted along sniffing the smells and wagging her tail at other people as we headed to meet our fellow dog-owning business owners for lunch at the Riverwalk Cafe. My WESOS sister Mary and her Collie Quincy were already there at an outdoor table so Tinkerbell and I joined them. Quincy was adopted by her family as a senior dog just last fall and it is believed that she lived as an outdoor dog her whole life. She was originally rescued by a horse rescue before she found her way to her forever family who loves her and dotes on her like every senior dog should be loved. [caption id="attachment_3569" align="alignright" width="213"] The beautiful Quincy saying hello across the table[/caption] A bit later we were joined by another WESOS sister, Cathy, and her one year old Golden Retriever Tucker. It was interesting to me that the dogs did not interact much other than to sniff each other in an introductory fashion. Of course there were a lot of other patrons and people walking around and all three dogs really focused [caption id="attachment_3571" align="alignleft" width="191"] Tucker gets a drink of water[/caption] on us, their humans. Tinkerbell is so social that I had worried that she might spend the entire lunch trying to get to all of the other humans or engage the other dogs in games of bitey face and zoomies, but she was pretty content to hang out with me. Of course that might have been because I bought Tink her very own side salad, without dressings or croutons of course. And I know, I know what you're thinking, that I write all the time about the fact that dogs are not small furry people, but I did it on a whim to make the experience even more fun for her. I fed most of it to her well away from the table. [caption id="attachment_3568" align="alignleft" width="174"] Tink's salad[/caption] While I am an expert on creating a happy, healthy life for dogs, I won't say that I'm never a pushover for my own dogs. They are well-behaved and trained, but they may or may not have had a piece of cucumber or some sort of treat slipped to them from the table at various times throughout their lives. I am looking forward to our next Networking With Your Dog meeting so that Jackson can have his first restaurant experience and so that I can share the love of dogs with other female business owners and see how he reacts to dining al fresco with me. Although they are a bonded pair, Jax and Tinkerbell have such different personalities that it is fun to spend one-on-one time with each of them. [caption id="attachment_3576" align="alignright" width="177"] Sleepy Tinkerbell on the drive home[/caption] I find being out in public around other people and other dogs is a great bonding experience for our own human/dog bond because it confirms the fact that I am their human, their caretaker, and their trusted leader, and that they can and should check in with me for further instructions when they are in a strange place or situation. Well, for further instructions and perhaps a nibble of cucumber and some lettuce.
Our Search for a Labrador Friendly Camping Trailerby Lynn Stacy-Smith My husband and I have been searching for a camper all spring and summer. We have looked at everything from a luxury fifth wheel (too heavy and too expensive for now) to a teeny tiny 8 foot pop-up camper and everything in between. Well, everything under 4,200 pounds, at least. Throughout our search one thing has remained constant: there must be room for the dogs, a way to kennel them should we need to, and air conditioning to keep them cool. Camping is a fairly new thing for me. In the past I have gone on a handful of weekend camping trips back in my twenties and thirties with groups of friends, a cheap tent, some hot dogs and chips, and more of the cooler space dedicated to beer than to food. I have never done family style camping or taken any of my dogs except for one night when Babe and I stayed in a tent at a festival style party in a friend's yard. Even in my younger days I always had the policy of no drinking allowed when responsible for dogs, period. Growing up in rural New Jersey my family was extremely outdoorsy. We lived lakefront and had a canoe and rowboat at our disposal, went on tons of hikes, went downhill skiing all winter. We fished, rode horses, went ice skating, ice fishing, river rafting down the Delaware, took bicycle trips. My brothers and I played in the stream and the lake and the woods every waking moment that we were not at school until our parents made us come inside around 9 pm each night. But we never once went camping because all of those activities were either right in our yard or just a day trip away, or we went to our beloved Ridin Hy Ranch in upstate New York and stayed in cabins. Of course our black Labrador Retriever Snoop accompanied us on as many of these adventures as she could. Fast forward to adulthood and although I still love the outdoors and would like to resume most of these things that I did as a kid with my own family, with Jackson and Tinkerbell by our side, I won't pretend that my idea of camping is more glamping. I love to be outdoors by day and in a nice clean modern room to shower and sleep. If that room happened to have four or five stars, even better! Enter the need for a camper or RV! With each version that we have viewed we have had the same criteria: room for us and at least two of the three teens, and sufficient room for two seventy pound Labradors. Floor plans with long, narrow areas are out because there is nowhere for a dog bed and for them to snuggle up comfortably. Slide outs to expand the living area or hybrid travel trailers in which the beds are located in tent like areas that extend past the camper walls give more floor space. Even square pop-up units seem to give more floor space for the dogs than a long, narrow travel trailer without slide outs. I feel like we are on the HGTV show Tiny House Hunters as we contemplate each option and how it fits our life and family. "We can fold the dinette table down to a platform and toss dog beds up there at night, I bet Tinkerbell would sleep up there and Jax will probably prefer a bed on the floor" are among the things that we say. Or, "We could keep their travel crates in the back of the pickup when they aren't in them and put them on top of the folded down dinette if we want to go somewhere that they are not allowed, like to the pool or a restaurant, as long as the air conditioning is functional and we have some way to monitor the temperature!" I have learned that 57% of RV owners bring their pets along with them on camping trips, according to the Recreation Vehicle Industry Association. In fact we were recently shopping for campers at a Camping World location and I was happy to see that their selection of food and treats for dogs consisted of healthier, organic and grain free options and brands instead of the mainstream lower quality items that many stores that do not specialize in pets sell. In fact their dog aisles were stocked nicely with plenty of options for dog beds, bowls, steps and ramps, toys, tie outs*, moveable fences, and a huge selection of Dog is Good clothing and housewares. In fact once we start to camp I will definitely be purchasing the cute hoodie sweatshirt with a black Labrador holding a hot dog roasting stick in her mouth! Since these stores are located near popular camping areas around the country, their selection of products gave me the idea that they are a go-to resource for pet owners who live a RV lifestyle. It was nice to know that as a customer we could look for one of their stores if we needed anything for our own dogs. Although we began the summer about to purchase a brand new travel trailer with a toilet, a shower and a sofa, a veritable home on wheels, we decided to start small and inexpensively to make sure that we are indeed a family who even likes to camp. With this in mind, we have finally decided on the right option for us and are purchasing a vintage 1965 pop-up camper that we will gut and rehab from top to bottom. It may not have the amenities that I want, and right now it smells the way I imagine 1965 smelled, but we will make it so that it is cute and clean and dog friendly and has a place to go to the bathroom at 3 in the morning if needed. Of course it had to meet the criteria of having a nice space for Jackson and Tinkerbell to comfortably sleep at night as well as in the event of inclement weather if we are all stuck inside. My husband is designing a table that can act as a platform for them with dog beds that will match the rest of the decor, although I have an idea that the same sleeping arrangement will happen as does at home with Tinkerbell on the bed and Jackson on the floor next to me. Regardless of where they choose to sleep in the camper, they will be right there with us on adventures, which is exactly where a dog should be.
*It is important to note that while I am not in favor of tie outs for dogs at home, I understand their purpose at a campsite to give the dog a bit more freedom as long as the owner is right there with the dog at all times.
Jackson vs. The Tall, Wet Grassby Lynn Stacy-Smith Neither of my black Labrador Retrievers like to walk on our grass when it gets past a certain length. Jackson objects to this type of surface more than Tinkerbell. While she will run through it, Jackson stubbornly refuses to step foot on it, which is creating quite an issue right now since the entire stairway from our deck is bordered with some very long grass. We use more water at the edge of our deck than we do in the rest of the yard, between emptying and cleaning out the dog pool, watering the flowers on the deck, and washing off where Jackson insists on peeing on the last step of the wooden deck. As a result, the grass all along the bottom step grows much faster and longer than the rest of the yard. My husband usually mows at least once a week, but it was rather dry and hot here during the early portion of the month, so the rest of the yard has not needed to be mowed for at least a week and a half, while the area all along the steps to the deck is long, dark green, lush, and growing like crazy. It is the best grass in the yard, unless you are a Labrador who does not like to walk through it. For the last several days, the temperatures have been excessively humid and we have had a lot of rain, so not only is that grass long, but it is now wet. Jackson's reaction to this grass reminds me of the "hot lava" game that children play, where the floor is lava and you have to jump from furniture to furniture to avoid being burned. [gallery size="full" ids="3523,3524,3525"] Before I tell the rest of this story, let me backtrack a bit. Last year I attended a fantastic event down in Florida at the Southeastern Guide Dog School in which you get to learn about (and play with) puppies who may grow up to be guide dogs or other service dogs. One of the most interesting things that I learned during this activity was that dogs who make it all the way to being actual guide dogs for the blind have to have a special quality that allows them to think through a situation and consciously disobey their human even when given a command that they would normally obey. The best example of this is a situation in which a human gives the forward command to cross the street and the dog knows that a car is coming and intentionally disobeys to keep the human safe. Not all dogs have this ability, which is why some of the puppies will go to do other jobs and some will be adopted out to families without special needs to be a pet instead of a working dog. As soon as the presenter told us this, I immediately thought of Jackson and thought that if he had been in such a program as a puppy, that he might have had what it takes to go all the way to actual guide dog. Of course I am glad he was not in the program because I am quite happy having him as my family member and best friend. I have Jackson go through this type of thought process on many occasions, with the best example being times that I have called him to come inside the house and he has not yet pooped. There have been many times when he started to run to me when I said, "Jax, come," and then stopped midway to me. Each time he looked at me, looked back into the yard, looked back at me, and then ran the opposite direction to quickly find a spot, do his business, and then race to the door to come inside. I have stood there and watched this and thought, "he is actually thinking through this predicament, he's being called to come inside but he knows he has to poop and should do it now instead of asking to come outside again." I have watched him problem solve on other occasions and can say 100% that he is paws-down the most intelligent dog I have ever had, whether he is outsmarting Tinkerbell to get a toy away from her, or waiting for her to go inside before doing his potty business because she follows him so closely no matter what he is doing and he just wants to poop in peace sometimes without his sister sniffing his rear as he goes. And now, with the tall grass predicament, I am watching him work out this issue with the same intellect. I assume that it is his sense of smell that alerts him to the fact that it is humid or raining outside. AFter all, that is their strongest sense, with a special part of their brain dedicated to analyzing scents in a way that humans could never dream of doing. He does not even need to go outside to know that the conditions are not to his liking; I can see his nose moving around, nostrils quivering, his snout tilted up before I even open the door. Sometimes he waits until the door opens, takes one whiff of humid air, and backs up as if saying, "Nope, not gonna happen!" To some extent, this is driving me crazy. He is of course fully house trained and neither a puppy nor a senior, so I can trust him to wait until close to the last-minute to let me know he has to go outside, assuming I am home. However the times that I have had to go somewhere are a challenge. I have tried every technique, from stern commanding human with a deep voice saying, "Jackson, come here now" to happy silly human with a treat in hand "good boy, come, come on Jax, good boy!" He knows the term, "off the deck" as well as "hurry up, go potty" but is simply not having anything to do with my requests. In addition to not wanting him to have an accident in his kennel when I am not home, I also do not want him to get a UTI from holding in his urine or be uncomfortable. I just want him to pee and find relief and get over this grass aversion. I am sure my friends who are professional trainers will want to scold me, as well as any old school "your dog must obey you at every command" dog owners, but so far the best method of getting him off the deck and onto the grass when I need him to pee at that moment is to give Tinkerbell a treat in the middle of the yard and then hold up his own treat before giving him the "come" command. I know, I know, I write all the time about training your dog, how the "come" command can save lives, how it's the most important one for them to know along with "stay", but when I have to go to a meeting, am starting to run late, and just want my dog to pee, I am not above simple bribery. Seeing Tinkerbell get a treat has been enough of an incentive for him to run through the awful, long, lush, wet grass to get his own treat, and once he's beyond the "hot lava" portion of the yard he's happy to roam around the shorter less offensive blades of grass. Once he is past that area, the grass is short enough that he will sniff around and relieve both his bladder and his bowels. Yesterday I tried putting an old blanket down over the grass to make a path into the longer grass. He was not falling for it even though Tinkerbell happily trotted on and off the deck with the blanket and I gave him a demo to show him what I wanted. He did, however, realize that he could leap off the side of the deck, which is fortunately just a foot or so off the ground, to a spot with much shorter grass. Once again, I applaud his problem solving skills and intelligence. It is better than another option that he tried, which was peeing on my husband's brand new hammock on the deck. That did not go over well; I knew the moment my husband asked, "Do you know what your dog did?" that it was not something good. Since he will not just get over it on his own, and I want him to be able to walk through surfaces that he does not like in the event of an emergency, I will double down on my training, using positive methods and a bit of creativity and work on getting him over this aversion in a way that is not too traumatic and maybe even a bit fun. If nothing else, fall will come and the grass will go dormant and we won't have to worry about it until next spring.
Love, Laugh, Woof Celebrates All American Pet Photo Dayby Lynn Stacy-Smith Today is All American Pet Photo Day and here at Love, Laugh, Woof I am all for a celebration of photos of Jackson, Tinkerbell. After all, they are the biggest "why" behind what I do! Here are some photos of our summer so far: [gallery size="full" columns="2" ids="3509,3508,3500,3511,3512,3513,3514,3515,3516,3517,3518,3519"]
Jackson, Tinkerbell & Their Obsession with Rice
by Lynn Stacy-SmithJackson and Tinkerbell love to see who is the door. Is it a human friend who will come in and love up on them? Is it the nice UPS or FedEx people coming to bring them their Canine Caviar or treats? Is it a service person here to fix something who will say, "Oh, that's ok, I love dogs, you can leave them out of their crates" so that they can sniff them all over and get ear rubs and then watch their every move while they work on the furnace or security system or whatever they're here to fix? Or is it their ultimate favorite person...the person who delivers the food from our local Chinese restaurant? We used to tell the person taking our order to not even worry about the white rice, that we didn't eat it so why waste it. Then one time we forgot to tell them, and so we had a small container of plain white rice untouched after dinner. Of course white rice is the go-to food item for dogs with an upset stomach, so it is on the carefully crafted list of human foods that my dogs are allowed to have. Although neither of them were sick, I decided to give it to them just as a special treat, and they gobbled it up happily. [caption id="attachment_3384" align="alignright" width="300"] Sticky white rice, a Jax and Tink favorite[/caption] The next time we ordered we let them bring the white rice so that we could give it to the dogs. As we ate, Jackson and Tinkerbell snoozed close by, completely unaware that the delivery contained something just for them. When I got up, took care of our dishes and leftovers and picked up their bowls to divvy up the rice, they raced into the kitchen like children checking out the tree on Christmas morning. As we went about our life we started to realize that the dogs were becoming very animated whenever we ordered Chinese food. They got so few things from our human dinners that they are not particularly bad beggars, so we laughed and pondered, "how on earth do they know that there is rice for them??" Pizza delivery did nothing for them, Jimmy Johns delivery did nothing for them, the Mexican restaurant delivery did nothing for them, just when we ordered Chinese food. And by the way, yes, sometimes we get busy or the kids go on vacation with their mother and we eat like college students for a bit, don't judge. [caption id="attachment_3386" align="alignright" width="235"] Waiting for it to cool a bit more is so hard![/caption] I started to realize that it was their magnificent sense of smell that let them know that their rice was here. Over the years they have started to get pushy and have upped their begging game when we open the little boxes and cartons. Of course we have to let the incredibly hot white rice to cool, so I usually open it and set it aside all the way at the back of the counter to cool until we are done so that they don't burn their mouths or throats as they wolf it down. One day we pulled the items out of the bag and found that the restaurant had forgotten the white rice. "Uh oh," my husband said, "No white rice!" The dogs stood and stared up at us expectantly. "Should we call and tell them they forgot out dogs' rice?" I laughed, although I was only half-joking. In the end, we did not call and I figured the dogs would forget about it since the white rice was not there so there was no rice to smell. We were wrong. Both dogs laid on the sofa across the room with their heads on their paws and their eyes closed. If either of we humans moved an inch, their eyes opened. If we got up to fill our glasses or grab another crab rangoon, they raised their heads, ears perked up in the classic "I'm interested" way of the Labrador Retriever. As we cleaned up our dishes and put things away, both of them followed us into the kitchen. "Nothing for puppies this time," I said, clapping my hands together and showing them my empty palms like a blackjack dealer. They continued to stare at me as though they didn't believe me. "Nothing for puppies, let's go," I said and left the kitchen, thinking they would follow me out. They continued to stand and stare up at the counter longingly. Eventually both dogs gave a huge sigh and lowered their heads and walked out of the kitchen. They stopped in front of the sofa where we were watching TV and sat and stared at us for a while, two sets of deep brown Labrador Retriever eyes going back and forth between us as if they were watching a tennis match, hoping that one of us would produce their rice, only we were just sitting there doing nothing. Finally Jackson gave another huge sigh, walked into the other room, walked into his empty kennel and flopped down on his kennel mat. Tinkerbell looked at us and did the same. My husband and I looked at each other in disbelief but also somewhat amused. "They're pissed at us!" I said, marveling at their intelligence and overly dramatic reaction to not getting rice. "How on earth did they know that there should have been rice but wasn't, I assumed they could smell the rice and that's how they knew?" After doing much research on how a dog's nose works for other blogs, like Why Your Dog is So Crazy and How to Put It to Use, I have come to the conclusion that they must know the scents of our other frequently ordered items and associate them with the rice being given to them, so when sesame chicken and crab rangoon show up in our home, their memories of those scents remind them that this means they are going to get something too. Watching my dogs use their noses is one of my favorite things about having dogs, and I often watch in amazement and tell them, "We need to put those noses to work," and so I am actively looking for a beginner nosework class in our area. Neither of them showed any interest in bird hunting or hunt tests, a sport in which both of their mothers excel, so I hope that one or both of them enjoy learning to find specific items so we can put those beautiful black noses and brilliant minds to work sniffing out more than just our sticky white rice from Chinese food delivery. On the night the restaurant forgot the white rice, I did get out the box of Minute Rice that we keep on hand for emergency dog diarrhea situations and made them each a small serving of rice, which made them both extremely happy. I am not ashamed to admit that although I have strict rules on their nutrition and care, I'm a bit of a pushover. After all, isn't the whole point of having dogs to make them as happy as they make us? I most definitely think that it is.
A Lifelong Dog Person and Her First Catby Lynn Stacy-Smith
If you haven't figured it out yet, I am a diehard, lifelong dog person. In fact I love all animals, but some more than others. Dolphins, whales, manatees, wolves, giraffes are among my other beloved animals but of course those are a bit harder to bring into your family home.
When it comes to cats, they were always an animal that I liked from a distance but was afraid of if not downright terrified. I remember a night in my twenties when my best friend and I were going out on a social outing with a group of other women and we stopped by to pick up another friend who had just gotten a kitten. As it raced and jumped around the room I stood up against the wall, legitimately straight up terrified.
“It’s a kitten!” my friends said, laughing at me, “You spend your life around these huge dogs but you’re afraid of a itty bitty kitten?”
My mom had a cat when I was born and it was insane. My only memories of it were that it would hide under my bed and scratch my feet without any warning when I walked by. I was only about four or five when it passed away, right around the same time I fell in love with Snoop, our first Labrador. My Dad also has some cat phobias and I grew up with the story of how a neighbor’s cat jumped onto his head from the roof of their garage when he was a young boy. I had never been afraid of a single dog, but cats were terrifying.
Flash forward to 2013. I was on lunch at my former job, browsing Facebook. Our Basset Hound Maggie had passed away from Lymphoma earlier that week and Tinkerbell had not been born yet. In fact I had been skipping lunch with my work friends all week because I was so upset about losing Maggie that I didn’t want to be around anyone and either bring down the entire mood around me or try to laugh and act normal when my heart was broken from her passing.
As I browsed I came across a post shared by the pet sitting company that I used. It was a post from a cat rescue organization and a photo of a small black and white cat. The caption read, “Molly doesn’t understand why she is at the shelter again instead of being in a warm and loving home. She is a special cat, she is more like a dog than a cat, she likes tummy rubs and comes running when people come to the door!”
Emotionally raw from losing Maggie, I read this caption and started to cry. I shared the post and tagged my husband and wrote, “IF we were to ever get a cat, this it the type of cat we would need!”
My husband actually grew up with cats more than he did with dogs. Both of our daughters also loved cats when we visited friends and family who had them, like their grandmother and their aunt. Our son was neutral on the topic and I was honestly grateful that we had two very prey driven dogs in Dutch and Maggie that kept us from getting a cat. When Maggie passed away the conversations started, “If we are going to get a cat we ought to do it before the new puppy comes so that she can grow up used to the cat and not try to chase it.”
Within minutes of sharing the post with my husband he called my work phone. “I just applied for the cat!” he said.
An hour later the phone rang again, “I talked to the woman at the cat adoption place and we are approved. We almost weren’t because Jax isn’t neutered yet but when I explained that it’s because he’s in dog shows, he's really chilled out and relaxed, and he has zero prey drive, they approved us! She’s coming home tomorrow!”
“Molly the cat, we are approved, I’m picking her up tomorrow!” he said happily, "I'm going to go out and pick up a litter box and all of the stuff we need!"
The next day, Molly the cat came home to us. Being crazy Disney fans, and because we have a human daughter named Molly, we changed her name to Nala from The Lion King.
“If you take everything I know about dogs and take the inverse of that, that is how little I know about cats!” I told my husband, who had vowed to take care of all cat related matters.[caption id="attachment_3298" align="alignleft" width="225"] Enjoying her new scratching post instead of the chairs![/caption]
Almost four years later, I have developed a love for Nala, or as I jokingly call her, “The Cat.” We have had quite a learning curve as I got over my fear of her clawing me or biting me. She has all of her claws and we do not believe in declawing, especially with two large Labrador Retreivers as her animal siblings.
Jackson is super chilled out around her and they often sniff each other sweetly. He barked at her for the first few days but gave up pretty quickly.
Tinkerbell wants to be the kitty’s best friend and for the first four years they played a modified cat/dog game through the slats of our stairs. During those first four years Nala lived primarily upstairs in our bedrooms because she was afraid Tinkerbell would chase her, a fear that was quite justified because that was Tinkerbell's favorite game from the first moment she arrived home as an eight week old puppy. Tink never tried to harm the cat, but the cat did not appreciate being chased by an exuberant young dog.
In the last few months, though, Nala has decided to take matters into her own paws, and has begun to hang out with us in the downstairs of our home. After much training and using the "off" command, giving Tink lots of praise and treats any time she calmly just sniffed or looked at the cat, we finally are able to have all of our animals in the same room in harmony.
Sometimes when I’m outside with the dogs I see Nala in an upstairs window watching us with great interest. I laugh at what she must be thinking when the dogs gnaw on their antlers or play tug-o-war with a squeaky toy or do their doggie zoomies and games of bitey face. I imagine her writing in a kitty journal, things like “My captors feed animal bones to the two large black beasts that shadow the human mother of the house. I fear I am next!”
I’ve come to realize that feeding a cat is much like feeding the T-Rex in Jurassic Park, where you put the food out and never see them eating, and that we sometimes go days without actually seeing her when she’s decided to camp out in one of the (usually messy) teen bedrooms. She's been locked in our closet overnight twice because she manages to hide away in remote corners, and I am still not accustomed to having an animal but not knowing where it is or what it is doing every moment of every day.
My husband and friends tease me because I have tried to apply dog training logic to the cat when she does things like sleeping on my folded clothes in the closet, sharpening her claws on our living room furniture or sleeping on top of my laptop, all pet peeves of mine. I tell her a stern "no" and move her to her cat bed or other location and then softly tell her, "Good kitty, good girl" and pet her.
They laugh and tell me, "The cat is going to do what she's going to do, you can try to move her from those places all you want, she's going to keep going back." I won't give up trying but I have also found workarounds like buying cat trees and scratching toys, putting my sweaters in plastic bins, and hiding my laptop from her when I am not working. We call this "Lynn vs. The Cat" and although I like to think that I am winning, with the number of things coming from Amazon to keep the cat from making a bed on top of my nicely folded leggings and jeans, I have a feeling she is actually winning the war.
Nala has taken our oldest daughter as her number one human but I seem to be in second place. I often ask her, "Why do you like me so much, you know I'm a lifelong dog person, right" as she purrs and nuzzles me.We do snuggle and she is warm and loving despite the whole clawing/kneading of the human skin that puzzles me. Although I don’t know if I would call myself a “cat person” I definitely enjoy having her in our life. She is sweet and warm and loving and it makes me happy that she has a forever home with us that is safe and certain and that she no longer has to wonder why she is in a cage and not with a family.
Tinkerbell's Fourth Birthdayby Lynn Stacy-Smith Our Tinkerbell turned four yesterday. Of course she doesn't know that four years ago she was experiencing the world from her whelping pen for the first time. She has no idea that we were anxiously waiting for the email from the breeder saying that there were "puppies on the ground" or that I cried happy tears as I looked at the photos of the newborn pups and wondered which one would become ours. And of course she has no idea what I am saying when I say, "Happy Birthday" except that the tone is joyful and good things like new treats and toys appear when those words are spoken. Since our favorite pet product store is right next to where crowds were gathered for the local wine festival yesterday, I decided to wait until today to take Tinkerbell on her birthday outing. Today we also had her annual veterinary appointment for her heart worm test so I decided to do her birthday trip right after that. That would also mean I only got one sad look from Jackson as we left the house without him. Of course I needed gas in my car, and if you've been reading this blog long enough you'll remember that Tinkerbell is not a fan of me getting out of the car without her. This time I thought I had her outsmarted; I was ready. She was secured in her harness and doggie seat belt in the front passenger seat to keep her from trying to follow me out of the vehicle, which worked until she stepped on the seat belt release button, but at least I had gotten out without the same dramatic struggle as the last time or a fear of her running loose through a crowded gas station. After I had paid at the pump, put the pump into the gas tank, and selected the type of gas, I looked up to see her staring at me accusingly from the back seat, her face pressed up against the glass and her distinctive brown eyes practically glaring at me as if to say, "you left me in here again!" If only Illinois would embrace the full service gas station like my home state of New Jersey, filling up with a velcro dog in the car would be much easier. Once I got back into the car she wrapped her front paws around my arm and laid her head on me as if to say, "No, Momma, do not do that again!" It had never occurred to me that we needed to train this during puppyhood, since I don't leave the dogs alone in the car. The gas station was the one situation that had completely slipped my mind. [caption id="attachment_3286" align="alignright" width="238"] Puppy Tinkerbell, photo by Colleen Nedrow, Payton's Photography[/caption] We arrived at Go Dog Go, our favorite local pet product store. It is now part of the growing Chicago based Bentley's chains of stores, but in my mind it is still Go Dog Go, with the same awesome staff and the same small business atmosphere. Tink recognized where she was and could barely contain her excitement as I gathered my purse, keys and got a secure grip on her leash before exiting my SUV. For all of her massive amounts of energy at home, she is hands down the best dog I have had in a store. She politely sniffed all of the baskets of pigs ears and bully sticks on the lower shelves, systematically moving down the row but never trying to snatch something on her own. Those baskets always remind me of the rows of candy at the grocery store at child height; of course the goal is for the parents to not be able to say no. We moved along and she sniffed all of the toys, first the Planet Dog Orbee Tuff options, then the West Paw Designs choices. Since we have most of those and I know her love of stuffed squeaky toys, I directed her to the Fluff n'Tuff section. Her tail wagged furiously as she checked out the options. I showed her the giraffe because of my love of April the Giraffe, but she snubbed it in favor of a giant stuffed bear that she grabbed off the shelf herself. I looked at the price sticker and put it back, "Let's look for a less expensive toy for you to rip to shreds," I told her and she wagged her tail happily as she grabbed an alligator off the slat board display. "Do you want another alligator?" I asked her, and she wagged her big thick otter tail even faster. "Ok, let's take the alligator home!" [caption id="attachment_3290" align="alignleft" width="313"] Birthday cookies! Just do not tell them I picked up the wrong pink one![/caption] Before checking out I grabbed three birthday cookies and a pink and white dog birthday cake. One of the cookies was for her to eat in the car without Jax trying to snatch up her crumbs, and the other two were to let Jackson join the celebration, just like we had done for his birthday in March. Although a 2008 study showed that dogs do have a sense of fairness and understand if one dog is getting treated better than they are, in this situation Jax probably would have never have known if Tink was dining on cookies while out on her adventure, but let's face it, I just love to spoil them. After all, isn't that the whole point of having a dog, to make them happy and do fun things with them? [caption id="attachment_3291" align="alignright" width="380"] Playing with the new alligator toy[/caption] At the end of the day, this whole birthday celebration is 100% a human thing. I would spoil them every day if my budget would allow. We would have doggie cake daily if I had not made a "no fat Labs" promise to my breeder to keep my dogs at a healthy weight. Later tonight I am going to cut the cake in half and maybe even sing a bit of "Happy Birthday" as we celebrate the day that this sweet girl was born. And while I write about how dogs are not furry humans, that we need to honor the fact that they are dogs, I'm pretty sure picking out a new toys and wolfing down some cake are concessions that my dogs are willing to make.
Dogs are Simply the Best Stress Bustersby Lynn Stacy-Smith I've been super stressed out lately. I cannot tell you why because I honestly cannot pinpoint exactly why I feel this way, whether it's the never ending political commentary on the news and on social media (and no giraffe cam to which we can escape) or the fact that the end of the school year is always crazy as a parent or whether I am simply overwhelmed with all of the various goals that I have set for myself. I can tell you that it is severely affecting my ability to blog and work on new books and projects and I am trying desperately to shift my energy back to being positive. Last night I was talking about this with my husband and he said, "Well, maybe you should write a blog about not being able to write a blog!" I told him that I guessed that wouldn't be the worst idea, only it would be more appropriate if my audience was fellow bloggers and not other dog owners. Then I realized that not every post has to be educational or fabulous. If you are following me it is because first and foremost you are a dog lover. And at the end of the day, it is our love for our dogs that makes us seek out knowledge and information about how to care for our dogs in the best way possible. And who better to understand how much comfort our dogs are in times of stress than other dog lovers? So today I am simply celebrating the fabulous creature that is the dog! Every now and then I am asked, "Lynn, what is your favorite thing about dogs?" That question is extremely hard to answer without simply saying, "Everything!" As I write about in my book, Love, Laugh, Woof, dogs have been integral to my life since I was five years old. I just had a birthday in March, which means that for the last forty one years of my life, dogs have been as important to me as air, water, food. I don't know if I have a "favorite" thing about dogs or if dogs are just simply a part of my soul, my energy. The love of dogs is now as much a part of me as much as my hair color, my height. In fact I like to tell the story of an allergy test that I had a few years ago in which the sample of "dog allergen" was first scratched and later injected into my skin in a second test. It seems that I've lived so closely with dogs that they are literally part of me. Not only did those test spots not swell or itch, they did not even turn red like all of the other allergens that they tested. [caption id="attachment_3280" align="alignleft" width="300"] Hanging out with Jackson[/caption] So when stressful times come, the dogs are my biggest source of comfort. In fact I cannot fathom the amount of money the dogs I've loved throughout my life have saved me by being my furry therapists. They are truly the answer to all of life's emotional woes. Sad? Snuggle with the dogs. Frustrated? Take the dogs on a walk to clear your head. Bored? Play with the dogs. Stressed? Pet the dogs. Confused? Talk to the dogs. Tearful? Let the dogs lick away the tears. A 2016 study confirmed what we dog lovers have understood for a long time: dogs can understand our emotions. When you add in the notion that dogs want to please us, along with the extremely important fact that they cannot speak English (part of their appeal), it is easy to see why our dogs become our most trusted confidants. Then there is the science behind what is going on in our own bodies. In 2008/2009 researchers concluded that more of the hormone oxytocin is released when we pet our dogs. According to Psychology Today, "Oxytocin is the hormone that underlies trust. It is also an antidote to depressive feelings." While I am a writer, not a doctor, when I put all of this information together it just proves the point that dogs are simply the best stress busters that we have in our lives! Not that we needed scientific proof versus decades of personal experience. All our dogs need to do is just be their normal canine selves and they help us lead better, happier lives, whether it's laying their head on you when they detect that you are sad or trotting along silently next to you on a walk in a mind meld that melts away all of the stress of your day.
Even the Best Dogs Are Not Always Perfectby Lynn Stacy-Smith As much as I write about the importance of training, as much as I work with my own dogs in a "continuing education" sort of way, and pride myself on well-behaved they are, every now and then one of them just isn't having any part of following the rules they've been taught. Yesterday was one of those days. Jackson was a hard sell on loose-leash walking as a young dog and was not easy to train, but eventually I was able to teach him that if he's pulling, we aren't walking. We've since earned his Canine Good Citizen and he and I now have a nice mind-meld when we are walking that is one of my favorite things about having dogs as companions. All of this stopped yesterday when he discovered his love of goose poop. This is the dog who I often tell, "Jax, be a dog, do dog things, live a little!" because he does so few gross dog things. He has zero prey drive, doesn't have a taste for gross things, avoids mud and puddles and only rarely scents himself on yucky things. Trust me, I don't mind that he is not the type of dog to ever bring me dead animals or smell bad, but sometimes I wonder if he's missing out on some part of life as a dog. Apparently he took my words to heart this spring, because out of nowhere my neat, tidy, non-disgusting dog is obsessed with eating goose poop. Not just mildly interested or sneakily trying to get to some. He is straight up obsessed. In the park by our house where we take our walks there is no end to this disgusting dog delicacy. Last night Jackson lost his mind over the piles of goose poop everywhere and yanked and pulled with all his might, putting all 70 muscular pounds of force into his efforts. Not one to give up easily, I decided to proceed with the walk and work on correcting his behavior. It did not go well and our walk was horrible. I finally gave up and turned around on the trail, cutting our walk short, but we still had to go back the way we had come and it turned into frustrating comedy of errors: Jackson lunging and trying to pull me, (even with a short leash in a heeling position) followed by me holding firm and stopping my forward progress until he sat next to me. We would walk nicely for a few steps, he smelled more goose poop, lunged again, I corrected him again. "JACKSON, NO! OFF!" I exclaimed loudly to him. Not one to yell at my dogs, I raised my voice intentionally, hoping that maybe because I don't yell, that the unexpected sound would get through to his goose poop obsessed brain, as he was not paying the slightest bit of attention to me every time he smelled or saw another pile. I came across another dog owner and her dog (who trotted along quite nicely next to her) as she watched me holding back 70 pounds of lunging, desperate dog with one arm as he dove toward the poop with all four paws dug into the ground for leverage. Of course it was at that same time that Tink, who had trotted along happily next to me while I dealt with her brother, decided to see what Jax was so interested in and wrapped her leash around a nearby tree. "You've got your hands full with those two," she said. "Yeah, not normally! He's obsessed with eating this damn goose poop, normally we walk along quite nicely" I answered, completely embarrassed that my dog appeared to be so bad on the leash that she would say something. Finally we got out of the part of the park where the geese had been and Jax immediately turned back into my well-mannered boy. I am sure he could sense the negative energy coming from me as we headed for home, but he turned and looked up at me with his beautiful head and a huge doggie smile on his face as if saying, "You love me, Momma, you can't stay mad at me!" "You are quite pleased with yourself, aren't you?" I asked him, some of my annoyance fading as I looked at this face I loved so much. Of course I was upset and frustrated, embarrassed to be a dog blogger and writer with my beloved boy acting like a crazy beast, but more than anything I was scared for his health because of all of the germs and diseases that can be spread through goose poop. Since he was worn out from all of the goose poop lunging and pulling from the first part of our walk and because there didn't seem to be any of it where we were walking, I gave him a bit more leash and he trotted along next to Tinkerbell, both of them about a foot in front of me with plenty of slack in their leashes. "See, look at her, she walks both of her big dogs at the same time and they are so good!" I heard a neighbor say to someone as we walked by her yard. "Oh, you missed the first part of our walk," I thought to myself, "Jax is just worn out now!" As we arrived home and I removed the harnesses and leashes from the dogs, my husband greeted me in the kitchen as I went to fill the paw washing buckets. "How was your walk?" he asked. "Horrific! Do not accept any kisses from YOUR dog, he has a mouth full of goose poop " I said. "Uh, oh, Jax, it's not good when she calls you my dog," he said to Jax. [caption id="attachment_207" align="alignright" width="225"] But momma, I'm so cute![/caption] With paws washed, faces wiped down and their post-walk game of zoomies complete, both dogs crashed on the tile kitchen floor with their tongues happily lolling out of their mouths, and my stress from the walk started to fade. I picked up their food bowls and mixed a probiotic powder with water to give their immune systems a little boost and try to proactively thwart any upset stomach that Jax might get from his goose poop buffet. Today is a brand new day and I've decided that while the geese are around I simply cannot walk both dogs through the park at the same time. I will walk them together elsewhere or I will walk them one at a time through the park. At the end of the day, Jax is a dog, doing gross dog things. Of course it is my job to protect him from some of those dog instincts and figure out how to handle the situation better next time, but I shouldn't be embarrassed because he went into some weird dog brain zone and stopped listening and following my rules. No matter how much training you do, no matter how experienced of a dog owner you are, sometimes they just are going to do things in line with their instincts instead of their training. Jackson is most definitely amazing dog, in fact he is one of the best behaved dogs I have ever known. He is insanely smart with a beautiful disposition that I love unconditionally. If I wanted a perfect dog I could have bought a stuffed animal; good dogs can be the best dogs in the world without being perfect dogs.
Funny Puppy Stories: The "Laugh" in Love, Laugh, Woofby Lynn Stacy-Smith The Laugh in Love, Laugh, Woof is all about including laughter and fun in your life with your dog. Whether it is laughing at the funny things dogs do, understanding that dogs enjoy the sound of our laughter and realize it is a fun and happy sound, or wryly laughing at something naughty or frustrating that your dog has done, laughing is important in life and with dogs. Sometimes laughter falls into the category best described by my favorite songwriter Bruce Springsteen, like the lyric from Rosalita that says, "someday we'll look back on this and it will all seem funny." Stories like the one I wrote about earlier this week in The Big Black Dog and the Cherry Tree fall into this category. That day was terrifying and stressful when it happened, but now I can tell it with a type of self-deprecating humor about how I tore the cherry tree right out of the ground and whisked Jax off to the vet only to later learn that it wasn't the harmful type of cherry tree, as well with some laughter about what a naughty puppy Jackson often was when he was little. As we continue our theme of puppies for the next week, here are two of my favorite puppy stories from each of my dogs.
Jax Mistakes Inside for OutsideJackson came home to us on May 5, 2011, and like most summers in the Midwest the temperatures stayed consistently in the 80s and 90s from Memorial Day until after Labor Day. Because we have zero shade trees and it feels like we are living on the sun, our air conditioning runs pretty much non-stop. The front of our house gets so hot for most of the day that you literally cannot touch the metal door knob without burning yourself and I'm afraid to hang a decorative wreath for fear of it combusting! As a result, virtually all of Jackson's first four months with us were spent with the windows closed and the lined drapes in the front of the house closed to help keep the house cool. [caption id="attachment_3193" align="alignleft" width="300"] Sorry, Mom, I thought I was outside![/caption] As we headed into fall that first year of his life, Jackson was 100% house trained. In fact he had not had an accident for about two months, a major accomplishment that we are actually going to talk about in my next blog. As a fully house trained dog I no longer followed him around watching to see if he would squat, and he had not yet started to lift his leg. We were keeping him intact until his first birthday for health considerations and thankfully he did not have any obnoxious boy dog behavior yet. On the first day that the temperatures dropped we turned off the air conditioning and opened all of the windows. In the front room of our house we have large picture windows that are quite low to the floor. That afternoon I was sitting in the front room reading a magazine and Jax started to explore the world through the picture windows, his black nose pushed up against the screen while he sniffed the outside air. I watched and smiled as he moved along the length of the window, pausing periodically to sniff some more. "Whatcha smelling, sweet boy, do you like having the windows open?" I asked him and he wagged his tail in response, nose still smushed up against the screen. My warm fuzzy feeling came to a screeching halt when he got to the bushes at the far side of the window. They were planted outside but tall enough that they actually touched the screen and he sniffed with great interest before squatting and peeing a little right where he stood sniffing. "NO!" I exclaimed loudly and told him, "Outside, outside!" I grabbed his leash and snapped it onto his collar and took him out the front door, praising him heartily as he finished urinating near the same bush only outside the house. Once inside he watched with great interest as I sopped up the pee with paper towels and then squirted it heavily with a mixture of white vinegar and water. I pointed to the violated area and calmly said, "no" while his eyes searched my face as if he understood. I didn't say another word, not wanting to do anything to accidentally reinforce this behavior.
Note: It is important to reinforce that you have to correct your dog while they're doing the behavior but since he was looking at the pee I took the chance that he'd understand. Remember to never punish your dog by rubbing their nose in a potty accident.Later on I shared the story with my husband. "So you know how Jackson hasn't gone potty inside in a few months? He was sniffing out the front screens and when he got to the bush he peed on the floor! I swear he got confused and thought he was outside!" That was the last accident we ever had and five and a half years later he's never even had an accident when sick. We still joke about it anytime the weather is right for open windows. "Ok, Jaxy boy, you are inside the house, ok?" we laugh as he wags his big otter tail and nuzzles us lovingly. Part of me thinks he understands and is laughing along with us.
Tinkerbell vs. The Dishwasher[caption id="attachment_3192" align="alignright" width="225"] Tink at obedience school with plenty of homework to work on the "off" command![/caption] It is quite normal for a dog to be interested in the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I mean, come on, it's at their level and all of the dishes have remnants of actual food or at least the scents of human delicacies that are usually off-limits to dogs. They cannot resist trying to take a little lick as you turn to grab the next dish to put on the racks. Tinkerbell was particularly persistent in her obsession with licking the dirty dishes. She was around five months old and we had been working on the "off" command, blocking her from licking the plates and silverware and telling her off. In typical puppy rearing fashion this process was done over, and over, and over, and over. Her desire to get a taste of our dinner kept winning over her desire to please us by following our instructions. After all, dogs want to please their humans, unless it involves a young Labrador and their mutated gene that gives them their love of food. One night I was cleaning up after dinner and Tinkerbell was in her normal spot, watching me and waiting for her chance to get a lick of a semi-dirty plate. The door was open and the bottom rack pulled out all the way. I turned to the sink to rinse out a pan and swiveled back to the dishwasher just in time to see the bottom rack go flying off of the door, bouncing and clattering across the kitchen floor with plates and silverware flying out of it and Tinkerbell racing at top speed in front of it as if she was being chased. [caption id="attachment_3191" align="alignleft" width="225"] Helpful appliance or terrifying contraption?[/caption] I ran after Tinkerbell and the dishwasher rack and caught up to her in our family room. She was panicked as I caught her and quickly removed her collar from her neck. One of the tags on her collar had somehow gotten caught in the narrow side portions of the wire rack and attached her to the rack, startling her. When she tried to pull away she had jerked the wire rack off its channel, which scared her even more, and she took off with the entire dishwasher rack "chasing" her. It all happened so fast that it was like a scene out of a cartoon, her paws slipping on the tile floor as she tried to run faster than she could with dishes flying out all around her. You could have substituted Pluto for Tinkerbell and animated it for a surefire Disney hit! These days at three and a half years old, Tinkerbell still loves to stand by the dishwasher and watch me. She embraces the "off" concept, though, but every now and then she darts in to try to get a lick. I tell her a stern "off" and she backs up and looks at me like they are trained to do with that command, waiting for further direction. Sometimes I ask her, "Don't you remember what happened the day the dishes chased you, sweet girl?" as she wags her tail sweetly, "Now, out of the room!" With a big doggie sigh she heeds the "out" command and goes to join Jackson in the living room, away from the potential attack of the dishwasher.
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The Big Black Dog and the Cherry Treeby Lynn Stacy-Smith
This post was originally published June 2012 on www.jacksonandtinkerbell.comI woke this morning with great expectations of a few relaxing hours with the dogs. I had a doctor appointment for myself at 10:45 so I was using half a sick day from work. As a result I was going to have a few extra hours to let the dogs stay out of their kennels and play. They have had a few long days of more than normal crate time as my husband has been out-of-town and as the only dog parent home they were living on my schedule. The dog walker at noon helped, but I was happy they would get some more play time. As always I went outside with the dogs. Jackson is fifteen months old and still explores the world by putting everything into his mouth instead of just smelling it with his nose. Because of this I tend to stay close to him to make sure he is not consuming something that could hurt him. Over the last few days Jackson has been obsessed with our fairly new Bing Cherry tree. A month or so ago we planted an apple, pear and a cherry tree in our back yard. He was doing a great job of staying off of the trees, not killing them with his urine, and not chewing them. I knew exactly what was going on in his mind each time he looked at those trees: Best. Stick. EVER! This morning Jackson was intent on removing all of the leaves off of several branches and eating them. Not just chewing and spitting out, but actually eating and swallowing. He did this in record time. I body blocked him, I used the "off" command that I know he knows very well. I circled the tree, trying to keep my own body between the pup and the tree. I failed miserably. The more I blocked him, the more of a game it became. I raised my voice. NO! I even broke out the dreaded b-a-d-d-o-g. He darted in and out around me to get to the tree to eat more leaves with speed that should not have been possible with that stocky body. Finally I grabbed his collar and led him to the back door in what was probably a violation of all of our positive reinforcement training that we had done in the last year. It was old school training. It did not hurt him, was not cruel, and gave him the reminder that he must listen to me. Once inside he drank the entire bowl of water and flopped on top of the central air vent. In the meantime I decided on a whim to check my pet poison app on my phone. I was not too concerned as many of the dog treats I bought contained cherries so I knew the fruit was safe for canine consumption. My heart skipped a beat as I read that cherry tree leaves contain cyanide and were deadly when consumed in toxic amounts. But what was a toxic amount?? How many leaves had he had? He had been gobbling them up them like it was his mission in life! Our veterinarian is on my speed dial so I called the their office. None of the doctors would be in for an hour. I started to panic and I phoned the pet poison control line, paid $40.00 to open a case and spoke to one of their vets about the issue. She eased my mind that Jackson had not consumed many leaves in terms of being toxic and that the issue was usually with horses and cattle that grazed and ate a lot of leaves in fields where cherry trees grew in groves. My mind was somewhat eased but there was no way I wanted that tree in my yard anymore. I knew my dog and knew he would immediately go right back to it the next time we went outside, so I walked out into the yard and yanked the tree out of the ground. It came out easily and I put it in our front yard to deal with it later. The pet sitter was coming today and I wanted to make sure Jackson did not get to any more leaves. I sat with him and watched him, trying to see if he was acting funny or breathing weird. As I sat with him, I kept imagining leaves full of cyanide sitting in my puppy's stomach while I was thirty miles away all afternoon. I called the vet's office again and arranged for Jackson to stay in their medical day care area under observation. There was no way I was leaving my baby in his crate, helpless, while I left and went to my doctor and to work. No way. If they could not have taken him, I would have cancelled the doctor and skipped work today without even a second thought. Now, fourteen hours later, we have learned for sure that the number of leaves he ingested would not have been a toxic amount. The pet poison hotline also told my vet that the dried leaves contain a higher concentration and these were straight off of the tree and still green. The most important information, though, came from my husband, who ironically was attending a hazardous materials training class and spoke to one of his instructors who told him that the Bing Cherry tree is a different type of tree than the Black Cherry tree and the leaves are not toxic at all. I will always go with the "better safe than sorry" mindset. An $80 fee for a checkup and daycare stay at the vet's office is nothing compared to peace of mind of having a safe and healthy puppy. Racing to the vet in pajamas, unbrushed teeth, and wild bed head is nothing compared to the peace of mind of having a safe and healthy puppy. Arriving late at my own appointment and forgetting to eat is nothing compared to peace of mind of having a safe and healthy puppy. These are the moments you sign up for when you take on a dog. It is part of the commitment to them that you keep them safe. Now at the end of the day, as I watch him sleep peacefully, I flash forward to ten years from now, when his muzzle will turn white and he will sleep more than he plays. I imagine stroking his beautiful face, telling him the story of how he scared momma half to death one summer morning when he started to chow down on Bing Cherry tree leaves, and how it was a false alarm. I imagine him picking up his big blocky head, giving me a lick on the face, as if to say "Momma, I have no idea what you are saying, but I'm glad I am here with you".
When Life Gets a Glitch, Seek Our Your Dog For a Happiness Rebootby Lynn Stacy-Smith Being a blogger and a writer for a living is a profession that can be impacted by emotions in a way that is unlike any other career I've had. I guess it is because you put your heart and soul into your work instead of just going through the motions of mindless tasks. Yesterday was just one of those "bad" days. Trust me, I've had truly hideous, heartbreaking days over the course of life; yesterday was more of a frustrating or annoying day. I find life precious and don't like to get sidetracked by that type of day at all, let alone when I'm trying to write as much as I wanted to write. I had the entire day blocked out for blogging and working on a new mini e-book that I will be offering to my readers, I had the house to myself as my husband was working and the teens were elsewhere. Instead of my regularly scheduled day, I ended up with so many other distractions, plus a bit of very hurt feelings and parenting stress thrown in that I could not shake, along with other things pulling me away from those tasks that the only thing I managed to accomplish was vacuuming up two Dyson canisters of Labrador hair. That was at 9 pm. The sense of accomplishment from doing something productive (especially taking care of the Lab hair tumbleweeds that were forming) was enough that I sat down with my laptop and started to write today's blog. I had written a few sentences earlier in the day and the topic just seemed stale, nothing was coming out of my brain, and I was just going through the motions. By 11 pm I had a few lame paragraphs and I decided to call it a night. Normally I love to write late at night when my husband is working, it's often my best thinking and creative time as I am not an early morning person. I shut my laptop and sighed in frustration. I heard the heavy thump, thump of a Labrador tail and looked down from my favorite writing chair and saw Tinkerbell laying on her side next to my chair, peering up at me with her tail slowly thumping on the ground. "Hi baby girl," I said, and put my laptop on the side table before sliding onto the floor next to her. Tink rolled onto her stomach with her paws stretched out in front and gave a huge full body dog stretch before reaching out to lick my face. I laid on my stomach in front of her and stretched too, and a day's worth of frustration started to melt away. I kissed her nose and she licked my face and we alternated this several times before she rolled onto her side and pulled my hand toward her stomach with her paw. We laid like that for awhile, dog and dog momma sharing a moment on the floor while I scratched her tummy. Shortly after, Jackson came over and laid down next to me and put his face near ours, and I laid on the floor like that, my two dogs and I face to face, for the next forty five minutes before taking them outside and then up to bed. Mentally and emotionally, that time on the floor with them was like setting the reset button, like a control-alt-delete to make the glitches of the day magically go away and for my system to start the rebooting process to its normal positive, happy, creative and productive self. The dogs and I went to bed, I put on my favorite guilty pleasure TV show that the DVR had recorded, Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I adore Erika Girardi and love, love, love the work that Lisa Vanderpump is doing to help dogs and end the atrocities in Yulin and the episode happened to focus on a trip that Lisa Vanderpump took to Hong Kong to continue her work to stop the Yulin slaughter. As I watched, Jax snored on the dog bed next to me and Tink slept next to me in the human bed, growling softly in her sleep. I have never once heard her growl in real life and I stroked her face, wondering what type of dream was making my sweet girl growl. When the show was over I turned off the TV, turned on the sleep meditation app on my phone and snuggled my sweet girl dog as I fell asleep. I woke in the morning to their customary canine wakeup service feeling refreshed, yesterday's nonsense no longer plaguing me. It's funny or ironic, or something along those lines, that my entire passion is writing about dogs, sharing the reasons why they are amazing, educating dog owners on how to create a happy, healthy, holistic life for their forever dogs, teaching people that dogs are sentient, loving creatures who should be treated with nothing but love, and yet I forgot on that very stressful day that by doing nothing and simply laying close to them and feeling their healing presence, that I could get back to my normal mindset. All they had to do was to be dogs and my spirits were boosted and I my negative mindset was turned back to positive, simply from some Tinkerbell kisses and laying face to face with both of my dogs on the freshly vacuumed carpet.
The Holding of the Antlers: Alpha Female or Dog Nanny?by Lynn Stacy-Smith As I was getting ready to write my blog yesterday Jackson came up to me with an antler in his mouth and laid the end of it on my lap. He rested it there and with the other end in his mouth, looked up at me with his big brown eyes. "Do you want momma to hold that for you?" I asked him. He answered by pushing the antler closer to me. "I think that's a yes," I said to him. I moved from the chair to sit on the floor and I took the antler in my hand while Jax happily gnawed on the end of it. Pretty soon Tinkerbell came over with a different antler hanging out of her mouth and dropped it on the floor in front of me. I picked that one and held it out to her and she began to chew on the end. "Well, today's blog has been delayed by the holding of the antlers," I laughed and said to my husband who was sitting nearby. "That sounds like a blog all on its own!" he exclaimed. "Hey, I like that!" I answered, and so we have today's post: The Holding of the Antlers: Alpha Female or Dog Nanny? [caption id="attachment_3088" align="alignright" width="225"] Holding the moose antler for Tink to enjoy[/caption] It was never my intention to get my dogs in the habit of chewing their bones with a human holding them for them. This is not anything I've done for my other dogs. All of them chewed their bones and antlers like normal dogs: by placing them between their paws to hold them. Thinking back to Jackson's puppyhood, it seems that we started this when we were teaching him which items were his to chew and which were off-limits. It was during this process that his keen intelligence was a blessing and a curse; a blessing because he was a fast learner but a curse when there was something that he just really wanted to chew like the leg of our desk chair or the spines of our coffee table books. Those items were so amazing for a little puppy that he did not care that we had told him no, he was going to chew them anyway. He really, really wanted to chew the leg of that chair in particular and no matter how many times we told him no, no matter how many times we removed his mouth from the chair and gave him an appropriate chew toy, he went back to it over and over and over and over, those razor-sharp puppy teeth making new dents and marks every time. In fact a few times I turned my back for a minute and found him gnawing wildly on the chair legs, huge chunks of wood missing after such a short amount of time! As a result, I spent most of Jax's puppyhood thrusting dog toys and bones into his mouth. When he redirected his attention onto them, I continued to hold them while he chewed. I remember so many days, exhausted from puppy rearing, that I sat on the floor in a sleep deprived daze while my beautiful destructo dog chewed on a toy that I held for him. As time went on, he finally learned which things were off-limits and also conceded defeat and accepted that we would not in fact allow him to destroy our chair or books, and we stopped following him from room to room. Instead, he started to bring his bones and toys for us to hold while he chewed. [caption id="attachment_3090" align="alignleft" width="343"] Jax out-smarting Tink to get her antler[/caption] When Tinkerbell joined us, she was about 100 times easier to train about what to chew and what not to chew than her big brother, but she figured out that we held onto the antlers for Jax and she started to bring them to us to hold while she chewed. Gradually we have evolved into synchronized bone chewing, with me holding an antler in each hand and each dog happily gnawing away side by side. Of course I will never deny them this service. For one thing, I love being an integral part of their pack, that they come to me to do things like this for them. Every mom wants to be needed, whether it's by her kids or her dogs. I even researched to see if this was something a wolf mom might do, perhaps when the pack was feeding on a freshly hunted animal, but could find no such thing. Tink does like to lick my face near my mouth like a wolf pup does, but I do draw the line at vomiting to share my most recent meal with her. As Meatloaf would say, "I would do anything for love, but I won't do that." It may sound crazy to people, that I do this for the dogs, but it's just another unique part of our lives and something special for these two dogs of ours. It's yet another reason that this interspecies friendship is so amazing, that we've been able to establish these little traditions and quirks without speaking a word to each other.
Dogs and Daylight Savings Timeby Lynn Stacy-Smith Daylight Savings Time has a way of bringing out some intense reactions from people. It seems that jumping an hour forward is not everyone's favorite thing. Of course, tracking time by hours and days is entirely a man made concept and we don't ever lose or gain time, but that one hour seems to mess with some humans for a long time. For me personally, I love the start of daylight savings time! Maybe it remains from when I worked a 9-5 corporate job and the months when we left the office into total darkness were horribly depressing, or maybe it's because I'm really not an early morning person, but I am definitely happier when our daylight lasts later into the night rather than starting earlier in the day. My favorite thing about Daylight Savings Time, though, is that it puts the dogs back onto our desired schedule. Jackson and Tinkerbell follow a strict schedule and are more punctual than any dogs I've ever known. I call this Dog Time. It was not my plan to instill in them such a strict schedule since they are dogs and can live life without the burdens of tracking minutes and hours like humans. But, they picked it up on their own from our daily habits and have stuck to it every day since they were each young puppies. Jackson was only a few months old when we realized that every night at 10:08 pm he would come and sit in front of us and stare and whine for his last potty break outside. Not 10:00, not 10:15, 10:08. Every. Single. Night. "How on earth does he know what time it is?" we would marvel to each other. When Tinkerbell joined the family she quickly learned Jackson's existing schedule and became an even bigger task master, reminding me precisely when it was time to eat, time to go outside, time to go to bed. Tink's method is more intense than Jax's signature "sit, stare and whine" technique; she prefers "jump, trample and lick" when she wants to tell me it is time to do something. Since Jackson came home to us in May 2011 and Tinkerbell in July 2013, both of them came home during Daylight Savings Time, and as a result their schedules were established on that timing, based on our human lifestyle. When we go off of Daylight Savings Time in the fall, the dog schedule and the human schedule no longer match. If you're wondering why one hour makes such a difference, it is because I adjust within a week. The dogs never do. Trust me, I've tried to get them to adjust. They won't. During Daylight Savings Time the dogs get me up at 6:30, literally like clockwork. This has always been the time I needed to be up since Jax was born, first when I was in the corporate world and now to make sure that the teenagers are up and out the door and nobody slept through an alarm. I myself don't need an alarm anymore because I have my canine alarm clock. When Daylight Savings Time is over, the dogs stay on their schedule and 6:30 becomes 5:30. You would think the dogs would adjust an hour eventually but they don't. No matter what time they go out at night, no matter what I do to tell them to go lay down, no matter if I ignore them or make them wait an hour to try to get them to adjust, they will not. Their morning wake up call goes like this: Jax sits as close to the bed as he can, completely upright, while he whines and nudges me with his nose, over and over. Tink is less subtle. She either lays entirely on top of me or leaps on me, trampling my internal organs. Sometimes they heed my "go lay down" commands and settle for the hour while I scoot to the inside of the bed and try to ignore them. Other days they will have none of it. If I lay facing the outside of the bed, Jax grows more persistent and will flip my arm into the air and increase the frequency and power behind his nose nudges and the volume of his whines. If I lay facing the inside of the bed, Tink follows me and wiggles wildly, licking my face and pawing insistently at my arm to rub her tummy. It seems that Dog Time is like the state of Arizona, it never changes time and for those of us who do, we are perpetually out of synch with the ones who do not change. Don't get me wrong, I never want to be without this doggie wake up service, I just want it to be an hour later, like it is on Daylight Savings Time. [caption id="attachment_3083" align="alignleft" width="300"] According to our schedule it is time for something![/caption] It's not just morning that stays on Dog Time when Daylight Savings Time ends, it is everything: lunch moves from noon to 11 am, puppy playtime from 4pm to 3pm, supper from 6:30 to 5:30. When I try to force the transition back to my time, and wait until the time on our human clock, they sit and stare at me, side by side, for the full time, periodic moans and groans of impatience coming from them both. They've learned the phrase "It's not time yet" and will lay down with a grunt and an audible sigh, but still staring at me intently as if trying to will me to do what they want. In trying to figure out how the dogs know what time it is, I did some research and learned that scientists just are not 100% certain how a dog knows that 10:08 pm is time for their last potty break of the night and bedtime. Some attribute their sense of time to their circadian rhythm, an internal sense that tells them when to sleep or when to be active. Some experts think that they use their noses and incredible sense of smell, especially for things like knowing when their owner will be home from work. According to that theory, the owner's scent dissipates throughout the day and dogs know that when the scent is at a certain strength, their owner comes home. No matter what the reason, Dog Time has become the primary reason that I am doing a happy dance when Daylight Savings Time begins each spring and friends of mine are complaining that it is too dark in the morning or that their sleep schedules are messed up. I do love the light at the end of the day rather than in the morning, and it is also an indicator that spring and summer are coming and that soon we will have more daylight hours than we do during winter, but more than anything, I love that my dogs and I are once again in-synch about when it's time to start each day together. Check out these articles if you are interested in knowing how dogs tell time: https://www.wired.com/2014/07/whats-up-with-that-dogs-tell-time/ http://www.animalplanet.com/pets/can-dogs-understand-time/ http://animals.howstuffworks.com/pets/dogs-perceive-time.htm http://www.akc.org/content/news/articles/dogs-tell-time-with-their-noses-expert-says/
What if Cats and Dogs Had Opposable Thumbs Dayby Lynn Stacy-Smith Yes, Virginia, there really is a "What if Cats and Dogs Had Opposable Thumbs Day." I cannot find the source of this day, in fact sometimes I wonder if someone "invented" these bizarre days just to see if people would celebrate them! Here at Love, Laugh, Woof, the answer is: heck yes we will! Literally just five minutes ago my husband made a reference to if the dogs had thumbs. It went like this: Teenager 2: "Guys, go lay down, I don't have any more cheese to give you!" Husband: "Yes, but you have thumbs, they know you can go and get more cheese from the fridge!" In the world of the Labrador Retriever, it was a long-standing tradition for Labs to have their dew claws removed at a very young age to avoid them snagging on brush in the field and tearing off in a painful way. None of my parents' Labs ever had dew claws for this reason. This is the same with many other sporting breeds and dogs who actively run through brush and weeds. [caption id="attachment_3014" align="alignright" width="300"] Tink uses her dewclaws to balance herself during turns[/caption] Recently, though, health experts and breeders are changing their view on removing dew claws, and many Labrador breeders and other breeders are keeping these claws on their dogs. This is because the dew claw is actually functional, according to M. Christine Zink DVM, PhD, DACVSMR who shares some interesting and educational information at http://www.caninesports.com/uploads/1/5/3/1/15319800/dewclawexplanation.pdf. In the two years between Jackson and Tinkerbell being born, our breeder stopped removing them, so Tinkerbell has hers, while Jackson does not. When we picked her up we noticed the dewclaws and our breeder explained the health benefits of leaving them on and we felt blessed to have someone so knowledgable about this issue and so concerned about the health of her puppies. "They also use them to hold things," she told us, "You'll notice when she's holding a bone or a toy." Sure enough, puppy Tinkerbell used her dewclaws to hold things right away. She used them to hold her antler and chew toys all the time, like a little thumb. "Oh no, we have the first dog with thumbs, we've lost our advantage!!" we joked to each other. Lucky for us, and despite our jokes that our dog has thumbs, dewclaws are not actually thumbs, even if she does have an extra ability to use them to hold onto things that she is chewing and use her paws to pull our hands to her favorite scratchy spot on her belly, something she does all the time. As a result, we still have a lot of silly conversations about all the things the dogs would do if they did have thumbs, so today is the perfect day to share them with you! 1. Snacks for everyone! Thumbs would make it so easy to get to snacks. They could open the zipper top packages of Fruitables, the boxes of Wet Noses treats, the jar of peanut butter. 2. Endless food! Like most Labs, Jax and Tink would eat nonstop if we let them, which is why their bags of food are in a locking container. Recently scientists determined that Labradors actually have a mutant gene that makes them hungry all the time and thumbs would mean that we were buying a lot more food each month and we would have 200 pound Labradors! 3. Inside, outside, inside, outside, inside, outside...Thumbs would make it possible to open the door, bringing their dreams of going inside and outside repeatedly all day to fruition. 4. Get those darn squeakers out of toys! The mortal enemy of any dog is the squeaker in their plush toys! No more working with their teeth to get those squeakers out, if dogs had thumbs they could easily tear the toy open or use scissors to get the job done quickly and efficiently. 5. Open the fridge! Fridge door, open! Cheese drawer, easy peasy! Meat drawer, oh yeah! 6. Open the fence gates: My late Dutch did this once with his nose, but thumbs would make it easy to come and go as they pleased, whether it was to go on a stroll around the neighborhood or to catch that pesky rabbit who keeps slipping underneath the fence. 7. Answer the front door: No more barking for us to answer the door or wondering who is outside the house, if dogs had thumbs they could easily answer the door themselves. 8. Play fetch with their paws: No more slimy tennis balls or frisbees, dogs with thumbs could play fetch with their paws and even throw the ball back to us. A whole new world of games would open up! 9. Explore the world with their hands: If you've had a young puppy, you know that they put everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in their mouths to figure out what it is. It doesn't matter if it's good for them or bad for them, it all goes in their mouth because it's the only way to pick it up. Thumbs would mean a dog could sit and contemplate an item and be able to hold and see it at the same time. 10. They could use technology: We all know dogs with their own social media accounts, having thumbs means that they could really truly update their status, take selfies with their friends, finally find out which Disney princess or personality color they are, and turn on Animal Planet and FidoTV while their humans are out of the house. Just don't let them add your credit card or you'll wonder how that PetFlow order arrived at your house without your knowledge! 11. They would thumb wrestle: If you have multiple dogs, you know those days when they play the lazy games of bitey face, laying on the ground and sparring with just their jaws for fun? Thumbs would introduce thumb wrestling to their lazy day fun! Of course even if dogs had opposable thumbs, they will wouldn't speak English, know how to navigate busy streets, know which foods were bad for them, or any of the other important things that we humans know to keep our dogs safe in a human world. As much fun it is to joke about the things they could do with thumbs, it's for their own good that they don't have actual thumbs, like mother nature's way of protecting them. Today, though, it's all in good fun, and I hope that Jackson and Tinkerbell's dreams are full of finally opening that jar of peanut butter all on their own and maybe playing three way game of catch with me!
A Night In the Life of a Dog Owner and an Upset Dog Stomachby Lynn Stacy-Smith I was supposed to write an interesting and informative blog for you today on social media and the do's and don'ts of sharing about dogs in need of a home. Jackson's digestive tract had other ideas for me, though. I knew I shouldn't have had that latte so late in the afternoon yesterday. Three shots of espresso in the afternoon meant I was wide awake for hours after the rest of the house went to bed, and the last time I remember seeing on the clock was 2 a.m. At 3 a.m. I felt Jackson's signature wake up method, as he nudged me with his beautiful black nose. "No, Jaxy, it's not time yet," I mumbled. Another nudge and a moan. I scooted further toward the middle of the bed and away from the edge, hoping he would take the hint. This time he shoved his snout under my arm and flipped my forearm into the air. "No, buddy, go lay down. Dog bed. Go lay down." Another nudge and a moan followed by a whine. I sat up, bleary eyed. I know my boy and the difference between a serious request to go outside and his sneaky efforts to get his breakfast moved up to the wee hours of the morning instead of the standard 6:30 a.m. The whine told me everything. In a last ditch effort to call his bluff, I picked up my bottle of doTerra Petitgrain, opened it, rubbed a tiny drop on my hands and then let him smell it. Normally this results in him curling up again in his bed for the rest of the night. I'm not sure if it's the calming qualities of the actual oil or if he associates the smell of that oil with me putting it on myself before bed with it being time for him to also sleep, but 99% of the time a sniff of Petitgrain does the trick. Last night was the 1% time that it did not work. Meanwhile, Tinkerbell had noticed that Jax and I were awake and she was getting excited at the thought of going outside and possibly eating breakfast hours early. I looked over at my sleeping husband, wishing I could send him on night-time potty duty, but not wanting to disturb him when he had to leave for work in a few hours. Jax got my attention with a series of sad sounding cries, and I realized he really did need to go outside. Once outside he confirmed that his needs were real and that his stomach was upset. I stood in the light rain while he selected numerous spots and then I herded both dogs back into the house. We went back inside and I gave him a probiotic. Rather than go back upstairs I decided to go back to sleep on the sofa so we would be closer to the door. Instead of going to lay down, Jax sat next to me to be petted and I listened to his stomach rumbling and gurgling. We go through this about once a year with one or the other dogs, and so I got back up and gave them each a tiny portion of food. With everyone's needs met, both dogs went to sleep again. I made sure my alarm was set to drive my daughter to school at 6:30 and tried to get more sleep. At 5 a.m. I felt the nudge again, and opened my eyes to see Jackson's beautiful blocky head right in front of mine. Another nudge and a moan. "Oh, sweetie, you need to go out again?" We were back inside at 5:30 and I watched an infomercial about a magic copper pan for a while before falling to sleep for a few minutes before getting up to drive my daughter to school and to start the day. Needless to say, I am not at the top of my creative, mental game today. I'm hoping his digestive upset will run its course without meds, and I gave him some Honest Kitchen Perfect Form to help solidify matters before making an appointment at the vet. Of course I always worry about my dogs whenever they don't feel good, like any loving mom, and I hope that his digestive system settles down for the night and that we can get some uninterrupted sleep. Although this is not the blog I had planned on writing, that topic will wait. I think it's more important to share these real life moments as a dog owner, a night in the life of a dog owner, particularly with new or potential dog owners who see only the cute puppy photos and not the sleepless nights and upset dog tummies. I am a firm believer in knowing what you are getting into before getting a dog. The reality is that I would stand outside all night with him if I needed to, he's my soul dog, my Jackson, my big boy, and I love him as if I gave birth to him myself, but you still can't help but groan when you get the "I have to go outside and its an emergency" nudge in the middle of the night.
Jackson Can't Play in the Snow Todayby Lynn Stacy-Smith When you know your dog well, you know when he or she just is not acting right. So when Jackson started to skip our nightly bedtime routine in which both dogs jump onto the human bed for their bedtime cookie before settling into their favorite spots (Tink on my feet, Jax on my husband's), I knew something was wrong with my boy. Instead of getting better over time, Jax began to turn down jumping on shorter pieces of furniture. Our dogs are free to hop up onto any furniture or chair, and I would watch Jax walk over to his favorite sofa, stare at it for a while, look over at me, lay his head on the seat of the sofa for a few seconds, and then sigh and walk away. At five years old it seemed way too young for arthritis, and he was eating, drinking and eliminating waste with his same enthusiasm. However, after realizing that not only had he not had any interest in playing with Tinkerbell for a few weeks, but that he also had not tried to get my attention by mischievously stealing my possessions, or at least reaching for them as if he was going to steal them, I made a vet appointment. After a thorough physical exam my vet determined that his hip was bothering him. Of course that one word can instill terror into the minds of many large dog owners. Hip. Because we know the other word that comes right after it, and it's not a word any dog owner wants to hear. Having been her client for almost ten years, she suggested we do x-rays to ease my mind and to figure out what exactly was going on and to rule out hip dysplasia. Of course we had selected our breeder specifically because of her dedication to producing Labradors who are sound in body, mind and temperament, but that did not mean that a problem could not occur in the hips of a dog from even the most dedicated and knowledgable breeders. Since Jax is not a fan of laying on his back for anyone, even me, he was mildly sedated and x-rayed. Later that day when he was ready for me to get him, my vet brought me into the exam room. "His hips are perfect," she exclaimed, relieving me of my worries. She showed me his x-rays and showed his two perfect little ball joints on his hips fitting just like they should in their sockets, and explained what they would look like if there was dysplasia. Then she pointed out the culprit and the reason my Jax did not want to jump or play: a torn muscle in his hip that he must have torn playing with Tinkerbell since their play sessions can be rowdy and including leaping the two steps from our deck to the ground in a single bound and racing around the yard at top speed with twists and turns. Many times Tinkerbell, who has the discretion and nuance of a wrecking ball, will body slam him as he sniffs the yard or nibbles on some grass, as a way of getting a game of zoomies going. On my way home I called my husband at work to tell him the diagnosis. "Remember when our breeder warned us not to let Jax 'break' little Tinkerbell when she was a pup? Well, this is the second time she's broken him!" referring to another time when she rammed into him and he limped for several days. "Luckily he will be ok but he needs two to six weeks of rest." [caption id="attachment_2331" align="alignleft" width="281"] First snowfall of the winter[/caption] A week later, after a few days of muscle relaxers and a daily dose of Meticam, we had our first snow. Seven inches fell, leaving our back yard a Labrador Retriever wonderland. Both Jax and Tink adore the snow and both like to leap off the deck and race top speed through the fresh white powder until their tongues are lolling out of their mouth and they flop down in a drift, panting happily. [caption id="attachment_2330" align="alignright" width="268"] We have not seen this stuff for months![/caption] As soon as I opened the drapes over the sliding glass door and saw the snow, I groaned. But then to my delight, Jax trotted carefully down the deck stairs and went about the business of emptying his bladder and sniffing the freshly fallen snow, while Tinkerbell raced around the yard at top speed on her own. Just when I started to feel relief that maybe I could get Jax inside without him running around, Tinkerbell stopped in front of him and stared deep into his eyes. "Jax, OFF!" I called, recognizing the start of a play session as he stared back at her, his head leveling out with his shoulders and one foot inching forward as if he was starting to go on point. "Tinkerbell, come here!" I called as she inched closer to him, also as if on point. I knew what this was leading up to. "Dogs, NO!" I exclaimed, since they have learned over time that collectively they are called dogs. As I headed out into the snow to stop the zoomies before they started, off they went, two black flashes flying around the yard in a game of chase, tails held high, mouths agape in sheer joy as they ran through the snow. "Ok, he's just running, it's ok," I thought, just as he turned a sharp corner, collided with Tinkerbell and he yelped in pain. "Jax, come here now!" I told him in my deepest dog owner voice since using his recall was the best way to get him to stop playing, and he trotted to me with his handsome Jax expression of "What, Momma? I wasn't doing anything wrong!" on his face. [caption id="attachment_2332" align="alignleft" width="282"] The snow just is not the same without big brother.[/caption] I hated putting an end to their fun in the same way you hate telling your human kids "no" to something for their own good. They'll only have so many "first snows" when their bodies are young and muscular. Normally I cannot wait for the first snow because of how much fun they have. But, I am the human who keeps them safe and healthy, so I did indeed put a stop to their fun and sent one of our teenage daughters out to play with Tinkerbell in the snow while I went inside to keep Jax company. In fact I was reminded of the summer that same daughter broke her finger a day before we opened our pool for the season, leaving her trying to enjoy the pool with a plastic bag over her cast for the next four weeks. I recalled the summer when our older girl broke her arm on Independence Day, effectively ruining all outdoor fun the rest of that summer for her. In the same way we had to tell her "no" all summer. No you cannot ride your bike, no you cannot swim in your friend's pool, no you cannot play on the monkey bars. I'm hoping we will not get much snow until [caption id="attachment_2329" align="alignright" width="290"] Jax and his expression that seems to see right into my mind.[/caption] Jax's torn muscle is healed, but it is winter in Chicago and so I laugh at myself as I am writing the words. Dogs don't understand the same way that humans do when they can't go and play and do the things they love. I wish they understood if I said, "No, guys, Jax is hurt and cannot play rough right now," but they are dogs, not furry children, and so I will have several weeks more of the same sad look on Jax's face, as if he's searching my face for some answer as to why he cannot play in the snow today.
The "Why" Behind Love, Laugh, Woofby Lynn Stacy-Smith In the world of the self-employed, entrepreneurs focus on the "why" that is driving them to pursue dreams that seem crazy to others. The "why" is that thing that makes them give up perfectly good, stable jobs. It is that thing that makes them work twice the hours that they would in a 9-5 job. It is that thing that drives them to work for literally no money for a very long time. The "why" is what they push back up to the front of their mind the hundred times a day they ask themselves the question, "Am I insane to try to do this?" For the longest time I looked at my "why" for creating Love, Laugh, Woof as revolving around my human and dog family in my own home. After all, self employment offers flexibility so that I can be there for teenage taxi services (aka rides to and from extracurricular activities) and I can work at home with my dogs with me instead of at a corporate office. If I could succeed at writing about dogs and teaching people how to raise their dogs I wouldn't need a dog sitter of my own to perform potty breaks and afternoon play time. Then there was my husband; I could spend long hours working when my husband was working and spend time with him when he was off. Now, do not get me wrong. I live and breathe for my husband, dogs and human kids. They are a huge "why"for me. But they were also all quite satisfied and well cared for when I worked a corporate job. They still got all of my free time, plus I had a whole lot more discretionary income to spend on them. So I missed a lot of band concerts and sporting events and was still grumpy and aggravated by office politics and suburban traffic upon my arrival home, that was normal for working parents. In the last few weeks, though, I had a massive awakening, a mind-blowing revelation and huge "A-HA!!!!!" moment that the "why" for Love, Laugh, Woof is ALL ABOUT the millions of dogs who are not Jackson and Tinkerbell, who are not in loving forever homes with organic food, plenty of affection and a doting human mother. I am doing this not because I couldn't walk down the same well-worn hallway in the cube farm or spend another day teaching another college bookstore manager how many textbooks to order, I am doing this to save dog's lives!! My "why" is the approximately 760,000 dogs who are relinquished to shelters because their owners do not have time for them! My "why" is the approximately 760,000 dogs who are relinquished to shelters because of behavioral issues! My "why" is the approximately 2,204,000 dogs who are relinquished to shelters because their owner cannot find a dog friendly place to live! These numbers are from the ASPCA Pet Statistics web page and are approximate, but they still show that owner surrenders contribute hugely to the heart wrenching shelter problem. If these dogs got out of the shelter and into a happy new home, it would be one thing. But 31% of dogs who go into animal shelters (from all sources, not just owner surrenders) are killed every year. Many owner surrenders never leave the shelter again. These numbers are despite incredible efforts and the nonstop work of dog lovers who work on spay/neuter programs, stopping puppy mill operations and pet shop sales, and on increasing the adoption of shelter animals. These numbers also do not include strays who are also in dire need of forever homes and are on their own because they were simply allowed to run loose, intentionally cast off into the world or lost without proper identification.
The "why" behind Love, Laugh, Woof is to influence in particular the dog owners who relinquish their dogs because they do not have all of the information that they need to be a forever owner. Maybe they were not educated enough about dogs before buying a dog, whether it was about how to approach dog ownership with housing in mind, what to expect in terms of time commitment, how to work with a temporary time constraint, who to seek in the event of behavioral issues. Maybe they have been through a major life change and do not know how to work through a new situation and keep their dog in their home. My mission is to help decrease the number of owner surrenders who could be prevented by teaching their owners how to be forever owners. As an avid social media user I see endless posts about dogs who need new homes because they shed too much, they had too much energy, a new baby was born, the owner did not have time for the dog, and all sorts of other reasons that can be fixed or prevented. It is daily and it tortures me to see them. My "why" is to help people in these situations, to perhaps show them another alternative, a way to keep their dog with them. I am blessed that along with a "why" I also have a "how". My "how" is through using my background as a corporate trainer and my writing ability, combined with my lifetime of raising dogs. I am thankful every single day of my life that I have some of the tools that I need to help solve the problem that keeps me up at night, that tortures me when I log onto social media, wanting only to see what my friends had for dinner, what their kids were for Halloween or bought on their latest shopping trip. My "how" also includes you, my followers, friends and family. I need you to help me spread the word, to share the message, the excitement of Love, Laugh, Woof. I ask you to share your commitment to being your dog's owner forever owner, what that means, and how you are doing that. I need you with me on this mission so we can truly get the word out that dog ownership is forever, that there are educational resources for dog owners, and that they can learn to be forever owners like you are. Maybe we cannot impact hundreds of thousands of dogs lives, and maybe we can. At least once a day I think, "you are insane, what are you doing, go back to the cube farm" and the other 23 hours and 59 minutes and 55 seconds of the day I remember that I am JerseyStrong, that I was raised to work nonstop on a goal, that this is what I have a heart for, and that I was raised along side these beautiful furry creatures that I love so much and I can finally give back to their species, and then I get back to work. If we help even one dog owner be more compassionate, be more understanding, more willing to see what it is like to live life as a dog in a human world, then we are on our way to fulfilling the "why" behind Love, Laugh, Woof. If we help one dog owner see that maybe they don't have to surrender their dog to the shelter, that they can solve different issues or work through situations that might be putting their dog's future in peril, we are on our way to fulling the "why" behind Love, Laugh, Woof. If we prevent one dog owner from dropping their dog off at a shelter or listing them on Craigslist, we are on our way to fulfilling the "why" behind Love, Laugh, Woof. If we help one dog, that one dog will be better off and we are one step closer to filling the "why" behind Love, Laugh, Woof. One step closer to filling OUR COLLECTIVE WHY.
The "why" behind Love, Laugh, Woof is to influence in particular the dog owners who relinquish their dogs because they do not have all of the information that they need to be a forever owner.
Join the new Love, Laugh, Woof Forever Owners group on Facebook:
This group serves the dual purpose of being a place for forever owners to socialize and enjoy the company of other dog owners as well as promoting the importance of responsible dog ownership for all the days of a dog's life.
National Sibling Day: Growing Up Dog Loversby Lynn Stacy-Smith Today I was chatting about Labrador Retrievers with a fellow lab lover on Twitter and he pointed out that I was extremely lucky to have grown up with dogs, that he did not get his first Lab until he was an adult. I replied that I was indeed extremely fortunate to not only grow up with Labrador Retrievers (and two German Shorthaired Pointers) throughout my entire life, but also in the country in Sussex County in northern New Jersey. As I thought about my childhood and my outdoor adventures with our dogs and my brothers, I realized it was National Sibling Day, which seemed fitting for the conversation I was having on Twitter. If you are not familiar with Sussex County, New Jersey, it is the most fantastic place in all of the Garden State, consisting of small towns and spectacular mountains, forests and lakes. There are state forest preserves and plenty of outdoor activities to do, and we did them all: hiking, canoeing, swimming, skiing, fishing, ice skating, ice fishing, and bike riding. Dad was also an avid bird hunter, which is why we had our beloved black Labrador named Snoop. In fact our primary modes of transportation as teenagers at Lake Lenape were our bikes or either the canoe or rowboat that we kept on our dock. [caption id="attachment_1067" align="alignleft" width="317"] Snoop 1985[/caption] Without going completely into detail about life growing up in Andover, New Jersey or all of the great dogs who were by my side, particularly since I do that in my forthcoming book, I often laugh that looking through the LL Bean catalog reminds me of my childhood, with all of the sporting goods and magnificent dogs pictured. We did it all, except for snow shoeing, and I am anxious to try that out as an adult. My brothers are actually my half brothers (we share a Dad but have different Moms) and did not live with us full-time until they were teens. Because of this I lived the life of an only child during the week for many years, so Snoop was my best friend and constant companion when the boys were not with us. Of course when they were home with us we all went on adventures together, the three of us kids and Snoop. She hung out with us unless Dad was available, at which point she became his velcro dog and dropped us like a a bitter pill poorly hidden in a piece of cheese as soon as he came home. Most weekends involved family outings to places like the Sparta Glen or Stokes State Forest, and on those outings Snoop always came with us. She was often with us when we went skiing on weekends, hanging out with Dad on days he didn't want to ski. She was with us on fishing trips, trips to my great aunt and uncle's farm, in the rowboat when my brothers and I went out exploring. She came with us on vacations to Lake Champlain in Vermont and Ridin' Hy Ranch in New York. It's not surprising that as adults the three of us "kids" are all avid dog lovers. I spent an hour and a half on the phone with one of my brothers on Easter, talking about dogs the entire time, comparing the antics of his eight month Lab puppy to my nearly three Tinkerbell, deciding that they were two peas in a pod, and that if we lived closer to each other that they would be constant playmates. Unfortunately our older brother passed away far too young two years ago from a sudden heart attack. I had not spoken to him in far too long when he passed, for completely ridiculous reasons. In fact we could have learned from dogs, who settle their differences quickly and then move on instead of wasting time not having each other in their lives just out of sheer stubbornness. I wish we had been like Jackson and Tinkerbell when they want the same antler, growling out our frustrations and then figuring it out quickly and without drama. Oddly enough, when I went to his home the day of his memorial service I was comforted as soon as I walked in as I was greeted by the four dogs who he loved so much (including one Labrador) and by the fact that his home was exactly like mine, the same living room furniture and the same exact dog kennels placed discreetly in the family room with a few blankets and some mail stacked on top. For some strange reason that perhaps only people who grew up with dogs can understand, I felt our sibling connection again instantly, even though he was gone, even though we would never settle our differences in person, just from remembering that we had grown up so similarly, together, and that our upbringing with dogs had shaped us as adults and made us more united than we had really consciously known. I think about our kids and how much they love dogs. With two dogs here and four at their mother's house, these kids are definitely growing up with plenty of dogs to love, dogs who are like siblings to them just like our dogs were to me, and I hope that they will pass the love onto their own children. So Happy Siblings Day, to my human siblings and to my canine siblings, whether they are at the Rainbow Bridge or here on earth with me. When you grow up with dogs as family you understand why we honor both types of siblings on a day like today, because they both hold a special and forever place in your heart.
- We shine like silk! Yep, that's right, feed us good food and give us a brushing every now and then and our coats shine like no other color fur, especially here in Labrador world. We are more silky and soft to the touch than our yellow and chocolate relatives and our ears are like velvet when you rub them. [caption id="attachment_292" align="alignright" width="300"] Tinkerbell is so silky and shiny![/caption]
- If you're like most humans, your wardrobe has lots of black, so you can play with us and then go out in public and nobody will know that you're secretly covered in our fur! You can BOL (that's short for bark out loud) at all of the extra hair you're carrying around that nobody else can see...it's like taking a little part of us with you everywhere you go!
- Black dogs are smarter than other dogs. We can't quantify this with any specific research, but Mom says it, so it must be true. She is a little biased, though!
- You can see us in the snow. Momma always mentions this each winter, that if the days are going to be so short and dark that at least she can see us when we go outside to frolic in the snow. We love our snow zoomies so sometimes we are a black blur racing through the snowflakes!
- Our fur is easy to find! You won't have to wonder if you've gotten up all of the dog fur before people come over, you can see it on the carpet and tile so you know your house is clean. You're welcome.
- It's fun to buy collars for us. Bright collars pop against our coats. Plus we go with anything! Black dogs are the new black! I'm pretty sure I heard them say that on one of Mom's fashion shows on the TV.
- Our fellow black dogs need you! For some reason some people look right past the other black dogs who are out there and so they don't get super awesome homes like they deserve. I think that's so silly...who wouldn't want a black dog??
- Black dogs are the same on the inside as any other dog! Do Tinkerbell and I look scary? Well, Tinkerbell might (BOL) but I know I don't! All joking aside, black dogs are just as sweet and loving as other colors of dogs even though our fur is darker! Is Mom more scary than our human sister because she has dark hair? See, isn't that nonsense? [caption id="attachment_296" align="alignright" width="225"] Black dogs are silly, like when the curtains attacked me![/caption]
Dog Walking and Puppy Hugging for a Good Causeby Lynn Stacy-Smith For many of us dog lovers, taking a humans-only vacation can be bittersweet. If you are like me you have probably experienced the same mixed emotions before and during a trip. There is of course the excitement of taking time from work and daily life, the anticipation of the fun that awaits at your destination, the wanderlust that drives you to explore other parts of the nation and the world. But there is also the worry about leaving your beloved dogs in the hands of someone other than you, no matter how reliable they are. There are also those moments during the actual vacation when I miss my black Labradors so very much that I start to jump at the chance to pet any other dog that I see. Since we typically vacation at Walt Disney World I am limited to service dogs who are working and off limits for socializing or fuzzy characters like Dug and Pluto. This year we finally made it to visit the Southeastern Guide Dogs facility in Palmetto, Florida. This incredible not-for-profit organization trains guide dogs and pairs them with visually impaired people to give them greater self sufficiency. They breed, raise and train Labrador Retrievers, Golden Retrievers and a mix of both breeds referred to as a "goldador." According to their website, www.guidedogs.org they have matched 2,800 guide dog teams since their inception and currently have 400 guide dog/human partnerships active right now. Southeastern Guide Dogs offers three great activities for visitors: Walk a Dog, Hug a Puppy and their campus tour. I tried to schedule our family for all three but because they are so popular I was unable to do so but I was able to snag us a reservation for the Walk a Dog activity. We arrived at the Southeastern Guide Dog center a few minutes before our scheduled walking time and signed in with the volunteers. A nice man gave us an overview of the rules for dog walking, including the commands that we were allowed to give to our dog, the designated dog walking area, how to use the Easy Walk harnesses that they use at this point in their training and other information. We have actually used the Easy Walk harness for several years for both Jackson and Tinkerbell so my husband and I were already familiar with the use. The volunteers explained that the dogs who we would walk were going through their guide dog training and that the Walk a Dog activity helped the dogs continue the socialization that they learned during puppyhood. Our volunteering would help continue to teach them that there are a variety of people in different shapes, sizes, and appearances in the world. We could use "sit" and "no" and were welcome to stop and sit with them to pet them during our walk. Any other commands would interfere with their specific guide dog training commands. The volunteers explained that our own dogs are trained to follow their human while guide dogs are trained to lead the human. As a result the commands are dramatically different. [caption id="attachment_132" align="alignleft" width="300"] My walking buddy at Southeastern Guide Dogs[/caption] I volunteered for the first dog who they brought out to be walked, a beautiful and friendly female Labrador who was such a light yellow that she was nearly white. We set off on our walk through the beautiful Florida spring morning and she sniffed her way along the brick path that was lined with plants and trees, her thick otter-like tail wagging joyfully. She was happy to be out of her kennel and out for a walk and I was so happy to be around a dog again that I had to force myself not to overwhelm her with affection. After all, it had been an entire week since I saw my own Labradors. I could see my family members walking their assigned dogs on other parts of the path, and sometimes we would pass each other, always human to human to give the dogs as much distance between each other as possible. I found an unoccupied bench along the path and sat down to pet her. As soon as I sat down she jumped and put her front paws on the bench next to me, her tongue lolling out of her mouth in a typical Labrador smile and her tail wagging furiously. We sat for awhile and I scratched under her chin, petted her chest and shoulders, scratched the spot on her back right above her tail and rubbed her ears before setting off on our walk again. My legs and shorts were covered with yellow fur and all was right in the world. My walking buddy and I returned to the volunteer area a few minutes before the designated end time so that we could spend some more time playing and sharing affection. A volunteer offered a bucket of brushes and I gave her a quick brushing. My family members began to arrive with their dogs and one by one we said goodbye to our walking partners and shared stories of our dogs with each other, what they were like, what their names were and how much fun we had had. On our way out we stopped in the gift shop and purchased shirts, a backpack and other items since the proceeds of the shop also go to benefit the organization and the charity. I have a note on my calendar to schedule our next trip to Southeastern Guide Dogs two months in advance so that we can participate in the puppy hugging and campus tour as well as another dog walk. If I lived near there I would probably be there every day; in fact I pointed out a new subdivision being built across the street as we were leaving. Perhaps I will suggest it again on a day after my husband has shoveled snow from our driveway after a large snow storm but for now we will just visit each time we travel to Florida. If you are near the Palmetto, Florida area I highly suggest you stop by and participate in these great volunteer activities that let you donate your time to a good cause and get in your dog fix while on vacation.
Check out the Southeastern Guide Dogs website to schedule your visit, shop online, donate or to simply read more: http://www.guidedogs.org/.
Update: Since this post was written, Southeastern Guide Dogs has changed the activities that they offer. See their website for information and click on Activities.