Freckle & Ceilidh’s Blog

I’ve been too busy lately. Too busy to write, too busy to relax, too busy to enjoy life as much as I’d like. But I was thinking … if I were a dog … I wouldn’t be busy. Then I thought a bit more and realized that I was wrong.

Freckle especially is often busy. For example, just last week, she was extremely busy—bolting down the trail after a white park maintenance truck (the trail in the photo above). Mary Doug and I both said at the same time, “Freckle, could you come here for a minute?” And she said (over her shoulder as she flew like a racehorse down the trail), “Just a minute. I’m busy!” We tried again … this time tossing in a bit of panic to get her attention. Alas, Freckle was soooo busy that she didn’t even respond.

And Ceilidh—she’s often busy too. I’ve seen her on our walks become unbearably busy when the scent of a freshly peed-upon shrub captures her attention. “Ceilidh, let’s go … I’m gonna be late for work.” “’S’a minute! I’m busy!” Some walks—typically routes that we haven’t taken in a few days—make Ceilidh and Freckle extraordinarily busy. Sometimes I feel for them … knowing how hard it is to be really, really busy.

But … you know that I’m just bein’ silly. There’s a “good busy” and a “not so much good busy,” isn’t there? “Good busy” is wonderful—it’s engaging, captivating and rejuvenating. It can create that wonderful state called “flow.” I think that dogs have a knack for maintaining that critical balance between the “good busy” and the “not so much good busy.” And over the past few days I’ve been observing our girls to see just how they manage the “busyness ratio.” They are extremely vigilant about protecting the “good busy.” Try waking a dog up when they’re “busy sleeping” … or get them to come and cuddle when they’re “busy chewing on a bone.” Or think about the times when you’re out and about and you want to talk to them—they’re very often “busy” aren’t they? What’s that joke about the person alone in the park holding a leash? Their Beagle is just “busy!”

So, I’ve starting thinking about how important it is to protect the “good busy” … to make sure that I make time to do the writing that I love to do… to read good books … to spend time watching the garden unfurl after the winter. And in order to know which “busyness” to protect, you need to know your priorities. You need to recognize when you’re feeling pure bliss while busy running after a white pickup truck… the wind in your hair … bugs in your teeth … And you need to know when you’re prepared to stop and say, “Ya, okay … whaddya want?”

So, what’s your “good busy?” Are you prepared to defend it so that the “not so much good busy” doesn’t encroach like a silver lace vine on a hot summer day (another story)? Busy can be a good thing … a GREAT thing! But you need to know when you’re doin’ “good busy” and when you’re doin’ “not so much good busy.” I’m just about finished bein’ busy now … time to get busy makin’ dinner.

This is Freckle and Ceilidh waiting for their dinner last week. Is it ever a long way from the food crazed Boxer who arrived in our home in December and believed that she had to flatten Ceilidh in order to get her share of the dinner!

I’ve done a lot of thinking about change and how creatures adapt (or even thrive) when change happens. As they say, “Everything flows, nothing stands still” (Plato quoting Heraclitis in Cratylus apparently). I’ve written a couple of articles about how librarians in particular (I’m a librarian—for those who don’t know me) get through change… also called resilience. [See “The Resilient Librarian" and “Creativity and the Resilient Health Librarian”]. But getting back to dogs… when Freckle came to live with us she brought a mindset that said “when there’s food, be BIG and BAD to make sure you get some!” Ceilidh on the other hand, has always had as much food as she needs (notice I didn’t say “wants”) and so doesn’t feel a need to be big and bad—just impatient. So during the first couple of months that Freckle lived with us we had to deal with the “food crazies.” We had to be extremely cautious, keeping the two of them separated during meals and minimizing treats (poor Ceilidh!) to avoid triggering Freckle’s BIG and BAD response (which was very noisy and quite traumatic for all involved—especially Ceilidh).

One day I came across Freckle reading Plato’s Cratylus and highlighting the Heraclitis quote about how “everything flows.” She said that after some time to observe the routine, it’s obvious that there’s always lots of food… enough to fill her belly, make her sleepy and precipitate a nap. I was pretty impressed. This is just another example of the wisdom of dogs—Freckle has adjusted her response to fit her new situation.

How many triggers for BIG and BAD do you have? Do you still need to respond with BIG and BAD? Just think of the energy you could save if you adjusted your reaction to fit the current situation… which most likely has different circumstances than the one that originally triggered BIG and BAD for you (everything flows, remember?). This week, I’ve decided that whenever I feel BIG and BAD coming on, I’m going to make a point of looking carefully at the situation. Before I act, I’m going to ask myself if the circumstances still warrant BIG and BAD. And I’ve asked if I can borrow Plato’s Cratylus from Freckle, but she says she’s not finished with it yet. I probably won’t have time to get to it anyway.

Question #3: How late will your dog let you sleep on weekends and holidays?

1:00pm. He is the best!

We usually sleep in..which for us is 6:30 AM

5:30 am… but sometimes they let us go back to bed

5:30 am

Between 8:30 & 9 am.

Absolutely as long as I want - but I make sure they’ve had a good run & playbefore I go to bed

Sleep in? What does that mean?

As long as we want or until we start feeling guilty about letting her out to pee or making her breakfast.

As long as Jenny got a pee after about midnight I’m good until atleast 10 am usually. She’s not too early of a riser either.

They wait for the signal, me getting out of bed - and since we rise early in this household even on the weekends, it isn’t really an issue.

Question #4: How do they tell you that it’s time to get up?

Dakota starts crying when the alarm goes off. Cubby doesn’t tell us.

Dharma stands up and gets her face in mine and gives me a smooch.

flapping ears

Stomping, tapping, whining if need be. Buster is HUNGRY and needs his breakfast IMMEDIATELY.

A wet nose to find me to kiss me awake, then playtime

They’re happy to just lie on the bed - unless they hear something outside

About the only way she’ll rouse(?)us is by barking at some dog going by the house. We’re not sure if this is a ploy to get us up or not.

She stands on me.

Sometimes they sit up in their beds and stare until we get up or they’re told to go back to sleep.

Who are these creatures?

Cubby is a 7-8 year old rescued boxer - we’ve had him for almost two years. Dakota is a black Lab/golden mix. She loves her brother boxer.

Dharma is a wonderful,warm, loving and affectionate boxer. She can be very stubborn. We do “butt heads”. And yes she wins many times. But she is well behaved when it counts, like going to the vets & pet stores.

Buster - rescued brindle boxer boy approximately 10 years old. He’s been with us for 5 years. Extremely mellow and sweet.

She is a Boxer Rescue, 3 years old. She is fawn & white with natural ears, most beautiful eyes ever.

Plato, flashy brindle boxer, natural ears, docked tail. A big boy, 4 years old. Timmy, flashy red boxer, natural tail & ears. A rescue at 10 months. now 2 years old. Super-enthusiastic playmate of Plato. Both boys full of love.

small Boxer, medium Boxer and large Boxer

We have a 5 year old mutt, Jesse and two cats, one 8 and one 12.

My dog is a mini-Australian shepherd and full of love and craziness. Added to this is three amazing cats, all with distinct and at times…loud personalities.

Really cute 65 pound Boxer. Really cute 18 pound Pug.

Warning: don’t let your dogs read this… there may be some new ideas here that they hadn’t already thought of. Freckle, leave the laptop alone!

Here are some highlights from question #1: How much time do you spend in conversation with your dog(s) after rising each morning?

Three said “It never stops … I’m home with them all day.”

Zero said “Less than three minutes …”

Two said “Four to ten minutes, depending on what they have to say.”

One said “Sometimes I have to call in sick because they have so much to tell me.”

Others said:

“We awake at 4:30 and I leave for work at 6:30 … SO we spend about 1 1/2 hours having fun.”

“As much as I can fit in before I leave for work.”

“Conversation X three dogs takes at least 1/2 to 45 minutes!”

“It’s pretty much non-stop until I leave the door for work.”

Poor Ceilidh is feeling punky. The night before last her tummy started to feel unhappy and she spent the entire night wandering around the house and asking to go outside every hour. It was a long night for all of us. After several bouts of diarrhea and vomiting yesterday morning, off we went to see our vet—Dr. Janet Adam at Granville Island Veterinary Hospital. Ceilidh knows Janet well. Janet was there when Ceilidh (at age 6) suffered a twisted lung lobe and couldn’t breathe. She was also there four months later when Ceilidh suffered bloat! Ceilidh has been around the block and does tend to get a bit wound up when she has to visit the clinic. But really, yesterday’s visit was a piece of cake—no scary symptoms (or procedures) other than an exam for the tummy upset. We picked up a prescription for Metronidazole and returned home to rest. Last night we were up only twice and today Ceilidh enjoyed a teaspoon of Gerber’s chicken baby food for breakfast… with great lip-smacking and a grin that indicated she’d like the entire jar, please!

For creatures who live in the moment, feeling punky is baaad! As one of the humans in the house, I strive to live in the moment, but also know that what I’m experiencing right now will change. It will pass, get better, get worse… but it will always change. I wonder if creatures know that what they’re experiencing in the moment will change. Are they aware that what’s happening in this moment—as crummy or as wonderful as it might be—will be different when it becomes another moment? I don’t know. Any thoughts?

   This morning I settled in on the couch (I should say the  dogs’ couch) with my laptop to read email. Freckle stepped up on the footstool and slithered in beside me, resting her chin on my arm since I wouldn’t let her put it on the keyboard. As I moved the cursor around on the computer screen and began opening browser windows, Freckle followed with her eyes. When a new window opened, her eyes grew big and she watched with obvious interest. She tilted her head and tried to sniff the screen. Ceilidh has never been interested in the computer monitor, but she will bark at animals (even cartoon animals) on the TV, causing us to wonder how blind she really is. Anyway, this morning I began to wonder just what Freckle was seeing.

I Googled “what dogs see” and found the “Catalyst” website. It’s an Australian science TV program and in 2003 they did a program called “Dogs’ Eyes.” Apparently veterinary scientist Paul McGreevey had been wondering the same thing … what DO dogs see? He said that he found it odd that the textbooks said that dogs all had the same eye structure and that they all saw the world the same way given the diversity of dog sizes and shapes. McGreevey researched different breeds, checking the size and shape of their skulls and noses. He began collecting eyeballs from dogs who had passed away so that he could measure them (shades of Michaelangelo’s research here!). He found that yes indeed, eyeball shapes vary depending on the breed.

McGreevey’s collaborator in Perth, a neurosurgeon named Alison Harman, was examining the retina behind the eye and found that different dogs had different retinas. Some dogs have the type of retina with a “visual streak” meaning that they have great vision, including terrific peripheral vision. But some dogs have a retina with “a dense, area centralis” instead. The “vision cells” are arranged in one spot rather than in a “streak.” This means that like humans, dogs with the “area centralis” see clearly what is in the middle of the field of vision but … the edges not so much.

Now … here’s where the story gets really interesting! McGreevey and Harman say that their research indicated that a dog with a short nose had an area centralis with three times the density of cells found in a visual streak. According to the TV narrator, “It means that short nosed dogs with their area centralis see in much higher definition than other dogs.”

Referring to short nosed dogs, McGreevey says, “So when they’re looking at the owner’s face and different nuances of the owner’s expressions, maybe they’re getting a bit more information than a long nose dog. This is perhaps a way of explaining how attentive and charming short nosed dogs are.” [emphasis mine]

I knew it! Before you know it our girls are going to be asking for their own laptops and High Definition TV. Anybody know of a support group for short nosed dogs living with high definition vision?

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.