Freckle & Ceilidh’s Blog

Last night, Mary Doug caught Freckle in “mid-flight” as she dashed to her “waiting for dinner” position. Never mind that I was still walking Ceilidh and their dinner was at least 15 minutes away! Apparently, when Freckle heard Mary Doug heat the dinners in the microwave, she decided she’d better get into her dinner place soon, lest she miss out. Mary Doug heard a weird “scritching” sound and turned to see what it was. Looking remarkably like a figure skater, Freckle was fully engaged in … a layback spin … or a waltz jump … we’re a bit rusty on our figure skating terms. I just checked the CBC Olympic website Figure Skating Glossary and Boxers routinely do a number of the things described there. For example, the “flying sit spin” which the glossary describes as “a jump spin in which the [Boxer] leaps upwards and assumes a sitting position at the peak of the jump before landing in a similar position on the same or opposite foot.” Another example would be the “camel spin” where “the [Boxer] spins on one leg with the free leg[s] extended in the air, parallel to the ice.” Or what about the triple jump (all Boxer owners will recognize this one) which is “a jump of three or more, but less than four, revolutions.”

However, Mary Doug is pretty certain that she observed Freckle executing a layback spin defined by the CBC glossary as follows: “Usually performed in the women’s division only, the [Boxer] spins in an upright position. As the speed of spin increases, she drops her head and shoulders backwards, arching her back. [Boxers] often use different arm and leg variations with this spin.”

I asked her to relay the story several times so we could be sure. And I agree, it seems more likely to be a layback spin than a waltz jump described by the glossary like this: “From an outside edge, the [Boxer] takes off and completes a half-revolution in the air. He or she lands on the back outside edge of the opposite foot. This jump is not usually performed in competition.”

Boxers are sooooo athletic and graceful! There’s nothing like settling down on a Saturday evening with a nice glass of brandy and a roaring fire to watch a round of Boxer (sometimes called figure) skating. We’re still marveling at the innovative modifications that Freckle introduced in her routine last night! Mary Doug said that “she was confident … and had never been stronger.” All skates were off the floor at the same time and as she “dropped her head and shoulders backward” as required in the layback spin, she flashed a brilliant smile, showing off her nubbled teeth broken off during events from less happy times. Her Boxer lips fluttered jubilantly and her eyes gazed at the ceiling before a perfect landing in “dinner waiting position.” Yes indeed, we are proud of our girl! Now we just need to work on her timing … but we’ve got three years before 2010 and we’re gonna make it!

Freckle and Ceilidh greet each day with such enthusiasm that I have to smile—every single morning. They jump on the bed and wag, and lick, and snuggle as if they haven’t seen me for weeks. I love it! It’s a wonderful reminder that each new day is a gift and we should be excited about the possibilities—expected and unexpected—that will unfold.

I’m not sure why, but as time goes by I seem to be spending more and more time engaged in our morning greeting ritual. Sometimes I set my alarm to begin the process a bit earlier with the intention of getting to work earlier, but it never fails … I just end up spending more time with the girls. A few weeks ago I began to wonder about other dogs’ morning routines.

On the right side of your screen you’ll find a link to our first poll: What’s your dog’s morning routine? Please tell us how your dog starts your day and we’ll post summaries. For those of you accustomed to snazzy polling applications—sorry. Due to some WordPress.com restrictions to ensure security of their hosted blogs, we’ve had to be creative. We’ve used SurveyMonkey.com (a terrific tool for surveys, by the way) which means that we are unable to offer a graphic summary of poll results as we go along.

So, don’t be shy… let us know what your dog does during the first hour of each day. And if you have ideas for future polls, let us know that too. Email me at s_hourston at hotmail.com.

Oh … we’d also love to hear about your dogs who have gone to the Rainbow Bridge. Never miss an opportunity for fond memories …

Margaret Mead said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” My co-worker, Olive, has this quote on a poster above her desk. I’ve always liked it—it makes me feel hopeful.

Margaret Mead’s words have been on my mind recently. For the past month I’ve been collecting donations of towels, blankets, food, and toys for the West Coast Spay and Neuter Society (SANS). Located in Mission, British Columbia, SANS rescues creatures of all descriptions from far and wide. Dogs from death row have been taken in by Kathe, the founder, and given a chance to experience love and patience instead of the abuse that so many have endured. I became involved with SANS in November last year when I was asked if I would sell raffle tickets to help raise funds for the organization. When Gloria, one of the volunteers, mentioned to me that SANS needed bedding for the rescues, I decided to organize a “Towel Drive” during the “white sale” season in January and February when many people buy new linens. I made a poster and emailed it to my friends, asking that they distribute it to their networks or put it up in the office or apartment buildings. I also put the poster up in my condo complex and in my workplace and made sure that I was at every staff meeting to remind people about the value of making just one small donation.

The response I have had from “a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens” has truly been inspiring. It has been fascinating to observe the process. You would think that it would be a simple and financially manageable way of contributing to a cause … surely everyone has an old towel at home that they wouldn’t mind giving away. But the pattern has not been one or two old towels from the majority. Instead, a handful of friends, co-workers, and neighbours have taken up the challenge and have been bringing me enormous green garbage bags filled with quilts, blankets, towels, toys for cats and dogs, wet and dry food, containers for water, cleaning supplies, baskets for cat beds, and pillows to place in the baskets. One of my neighbours donated a pet carrier that had never been used. Another neighbour and his partner happened to be moving across the country and donated blankets, food, and even a Rubbermaid bin to house the food! People have been extraordinarily generous. When I arrive at work in the morning, I find new donations at my desk and I come home from work to find piles of bedding and toys outside my door. I feel so buoyed to know that my neighbours, co-workers, friends (and friends of friends) are eager to respond to a call for help. In a world where the media floods us with images and news of anger, violence or plain indifference, I feel optimistic that a “small group of thoughtful, committed citizens” is alive and well—and willing to take action to make the world a better place. If we all take a small step … contribute one small thing … the accumulated results can be amazing! Thank you to everyone who donated to help the creatures rescued by SANS. You have made a difference.

Ceilidh and I were talking about hope the other day. I had come home after an especially frustrating day at work and the notion of hopelessness was on my mind. I think it was in relation to funding, actually. But trying to turn things to a more positive perspective, by the time I got home, I’d begun to ponder the concept of hope.

You will have noted that Ceilidh‘s name appears on the title of this blog. She said to me when I came home after the “hopeless” day, “I was hoping that I might get a bit of airtime too.” It got me thinking about dogs and hope. What is “hope” anyway? Our Collins Pocket Reference English Dictionary (it’s what I have handy) defines it as a verb: “to want something to happen or be true.” Wow! Does that not describe a dog’s life? From the time they get up in the morning, they hope for breakfast. That happens and then they hope for a walk to read the morning pee-mail and eliminate. That happens and then they KNOW that they will sleep until mid-day when the human at home (Mary Doug—who works at home) may take a break from her work and have lunch. They hope they’ll be lucky and find a crumb, or wear her down with large, mournful, brown-eyed stares until she succumbs to their charm and desperation. Then they hope for a mid-day stroll to check pee-mail replies and return to sleep for the afternoon. Mary Doug tells me that at 4:00 pm sharp, Freckle rises from her slumber and stretches. Then she begins to walk around the room glancing at Mary Doug expectantly. If necessary, her tactics progress to insistent sighs and nudges with her muzzle until Mary Doug’s laptop is skiwify in her lap and her attention has been completely diverted from her work. Ceilidh joins in, depending on whether or not it is raining (she hates the rain!).

So is that late afternoon behaviour “hope” or “knowing?” “Knowing” (from the same dictionary): “to be or feel certain of the truth—of information, etc.” Does this seem just a wee bit further along the “hope continuum?” Dogs offer the best example of positive thinking that I’ve ever seen. Forget Marty Seligman (author of Authentic Happiness: Using the New Positive Psychology to Realize Your Potential for Lasting Fulfillment and Learned Optimism: How to Change Your Mind and Your Life http://www.ppc.sas.upenn.edu/) or Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (author of Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience http://qlrc.cgu.edu/mike.htm)! Dogs have the power of positive thought down pat … and, this is the most impressive part, when their hoping/knowing/positive thinking doesn’t work, they just move on to hoping/knowing/positive thinking for the next thing. There’s no falling off a cliff into a paroxysm of despair. They just move on. Now that’s inspiring!

So, getting back to Ceilidh. Some of the most important things in life I’ve learned from my dogs. Each dog I’ve had has taught me something important … or should I say spent their lifetime trying to teach me (I can be stubborn!). Ceilidh … she is, as Mary Doug says, my “heart dog.” I had never heard this expression before, but apparently, it’s the dog who has the greatest hold on your heart. The dog with whom you feel that special, undiscussed bond. You love all of your dogs, but your “heart dog” has a bit more emotional square footage.

Ceilidh (who is a Pug whose name is pronounced “Kay-lee” for those of you who haven’t met her), has been my “heart dog” since we brought her home when she was six months old. She was a funny little pup—not a “show dog” because her bottom jaw was a bit too long. For this reason, she languished at the breeder’s until she was the matronly age of six months. We luckily happened to call to enquire about a “slightly older” Pug. Our Boxer, Bridget, was about a year and a half at that point and plenty rambunctious. We’d done our research and had heard that Pugs were tough—and fortunately it turned out that they are!

Ceilidh, like most people, has her faults. She’s a food monster. Mention any kind of food, in any language you like, and she’ll know it and go immediately into a frenzy—she makes a blender-like noise and her legs begin an eggbeater-like dance! Food means more to her than life itself. But Ceilidh encapsulates the very essence of hope. For Ceilidh, hope and knowing is pretty much the same thing. She knows that her meal will appear at the appropriate time twice a day and that her bedtime snack will appear in a timely manner too. Hoping is what she does while she’s waiting. On the rare occasion when she’s had to have a medical test or procedure which precluded a meal, she never lost that look of expectation and knowing that we would not let her down. And when we did let her down—because we couldn’t give her a meal—she simply went with it. She knew that we had simply gotten confused and messed up on our responsibilities, but she never stopped hoping… never stopped knowing that we would feed her.

Having lived with two rescue dogs—Sassy and now Freckle—I believe that hope is part of the canine package. Rescued creatures often come to their forever homes with heartbreaking histories… having experienced horrific abuse and neglect—the worst that human nature can offer. Dogs who have been tied up and left outside until chain collars become embedded in their flesh. Dogs who have been starved until they are mere skeletons or dumped in the middle of nowhere to fend for themselves. But if these creatures find a home where they experience patience, love, and kindness, they transform before your eyes. It’s as if the seed of hope can never be destroyed and it lies dormant in abused creatures. Kindness is an elixir that enables the seed to germinate and become visible again. That we have the ability to offer that elixir and that creatures have the ability to regenerate hope in response is magical to me. Surely growing kindness and hope is among the most important things that we can do in life.

Sassy was Freckle’s predecessor … and Bridget was her predecessor—and our first Boxer. When we began thinking about getting a dog, we’d originally thought we might like a Beagle. Being librarians, we researched Beagles and then were most distressed to read that they liked to “sing.” A lot! We also red in one dog book that “the person in the park with a leash in hand and no dog in sight owns a Beagle.” We read a bit more and found other hound-like behavioural traits and eventually began to rethink the whole Beagle idea—after all, we did live in a very urban environment and share walls with three other neighbours.

One day at the beach, Mary Doug met Joe. Joe was an elderly Boxer who had been living with Lupus for some time. He was … well …a Boxer, although very subdued because of his age and illness. He was sweet and affectionate and a clown. Those of you who know Boxers know what I mean. He won Mary Doug’s heart and when I met him, I was pretty smitten too.

We began to research Boxers… and we didn’t really find anything negative. They weren’t known for “singing” or for any of the other traits associated with Beagles. We found a breeder and first met Bridget when she was just five weeks old. She was the sweetest thing we’d ever seen! However, in retrospect, she did exhibit some signs of wackiness that we failed to recognize (or take to heart). For example, at five weeks, the top of her head was about an inch higher than the bottom of a chaise lounge. When she was released from the kennel to run freely through the back yard, she ran the wild Boxer loops. The chaise lounge (where one of us was sitting) was at the edge of the loop and so she would run under it, hitting the top of her head on it—repeatedly! She would run, and run and run. Delightfully galloping around the yard—whack! Around the yard—whack! Around the yard—whack! We thought it was really cute, if somewhat exuberant. After 13 or more years with Boxers, we would now recognize such behaviour in a puppy as a possible red flag. But hindsight is always 20-20. We would never ever trade our time with Bridget … but it was a challenge sometimes.

We brought Bridget home at the age of nine weeks (she survived the chaise lounge) and the day after we’d moved into our condo. We bought a condo specifically so we could get a dog and we frequently referred to it as “Bridget’s condo.” That dog continued to run through life at 80 miles per hour, hitting her head on things, until she died from a tumour on her spine just a couple of weeks short of her ninth birthday. It was a very intense relationship and a topsy-turvy eight years with a wealth of behavioural and health problems along the way. But how we loved that dog! She was all Boxer and she loved big … she played big … she was loyal and funny … a clown of the most amazing sort. She gave everything 150 percent. Bridget taught me to live life to the fullest …to squeeze every last drop out of each day. I try to follow her example, but quite honestly, she had much more energy than I do. Still, living in the moment and making the most of it is not a bad philosophy at all. You never know what’s around the corner… and Bridget didn’t really care.

More about Bridget at: http://boxerrescuecanada.blogspot.com/2007/02/bridget-precursor-to-rescue-boxers.html

We are already at the two month mark with Freckle! And … we just finished our third dog training session last Wednesday morning. Although we’ve been working with Freckle with the training techniques we’ve learned over the years, there are always new wrinkles to address. We’re working with Shannon Malmberg, owner of Zen Dog Training (http://www.zendogtraining.com). She is a wonderful trainer. Mary Doug interviewed many trainers over the telephone and we decided to go with Shannon and we’re very happy we did. We’ve been “around the block” with Boxers and their “determined” personalities—as loveable as they are… most of the time. What I like about Shannon is that she has a wholistic approach. She really seems to be in tune with what Freckle is thinking and feeling and her recommendations really work! I also really like that she is realistic about human behaviour—that is to say she hasn’t once been nasty about correcting the short-comings of the handler (me!). She obviously loves dogs and her dog, Saint, is an extraordinarily beautiful, well-trained guy. The training plan consists of three one-on-one (really three-on-one) sessions with Shannon at different locations in Kits and then we begin working with the weekly drop-in classes (and other dogs). Amazingly, after all of these years of dog trainers, I actually look forward to our sessions with Shannon.

I’ve always thought that dog training is never really much fun for the dog. It pretty much demands submission on their part and giving up some independence to their two-legged family members. I think the submission part is what troubles me … on some level, I think that I’m an incurable … democrat … or whatever it would be where all creatures were able to do what it was that made us feel happy (without impinging on others’ rights). This particular bent is also probably why I’m so attracted to breeds in the Mastiff family like Boxers and Pugs—they are at least as stubborn as I am!

But the extraordinary thing is, at our last training session with Shannon, Freckle had a blast! There was none of the pouting with her ears slicked back and her jaw stuck out like in training session #2. She performed very well and was surprisingly responsive and well behaved on a 20 minute walk through the park. She was bopping around like a bronco, trying to get Saint to play with her. She was smiling—if not laughing—for much of the time. [Email me if you want to know how to tell if a Boxer is laughing. ] Near the end of our training session Freckle was successful in egging Saint on and the two of them had a wild play session where after a few minutes, Saint gave in and pretended that he was a Boxer too. Personally, I thought this was very gracious of him and I have no doubt that Shannon is responsible for teaching him such impressive manners.

For people who have never seen two Boxers play (a spectator sport I highly recommend), they do much of it on their back legs with their front feet literally boxing at each other. They also do a lot of shoulder checking and bouncing off of one another. Often two Boxers playing can make a racket that sounds as if someone will never walk away in one piece—they can become extremely vocal. To see some awesome (updated daily) photographs of Boxers Emily and Louis playing, visit Dale Ulmer’s website at http://www.boxerlife.com/.

Tomorrow morning we attend our first group class with people and dogs who’ve been “in training” for a lot longer than we have. I’m nervous but have sworn to be brave for Freckle. I wonder if she has sworn to be brave for me. More later…