The Dingo Chronicles

Ty and I took a little road trip this weekend to "get away from it all" with friends at a condo on Lake Couer d' Alene. Two other couples, lots of great food, and plenty to drink made for a fabulous time of doing nothing but relaxing, playing games, catching up, and of course...eating :). We're all in a fortunate time in our lives where finding care for children isn't an issue for such excursions, but we each have dogs to find lodging for. We boarded Hunter and Wally at a local doggy "camp" we've gone to several times and can rest assured the pups are well taken care of - lots of room to roam and other dogs to play with.

Ty and I always take pride in raising and owning well-behaved dogs. Aside from not always listening when we want him to, Hunter is exceptionally well-mannered. Wally...well...Wally's getting there. And in all honesty, his performance is well beyond what came out of Hunter by this age. Thus, Ty and I remain hopeful that he's going to prove to be just as amazing as Hunter. He sits, lays down, stays, comes when called, gets out of the kitchen when told and even drops the most delectable (to him) items from his mouth when asked (this is something Hunter STILL doesn't do). Needless to say, he's going to be a great dog.

By me saying "Wally's getting there" is not intended to elude to any bad behavior...at least we didn't think so until returning home from our trip and retrieving our beloved dingos. Ty and I will be the first to agree that Wally is a high energy (and we mean HIGH energy) puppy that still has some things to work on. Examples: tugging on Hunter's neck when Hunter is sick of it, barking at anything that walks, shuffles, or blows past the house, chasing Rosco endlessly, etc., etc. Oh yeah...and jumping up on house guests as they walk through the door. This one, especially, we're aware of and working with him on. He just gets so darn excited to have someone new over. The nice thing is that when the initial "hi, my name is Wally" introduction is over, he settles down.

Well, apparently the jumping behavior was cause for alarm to the owner of the dog camp (notice I'm refraining from business names and gender association to protect the involved party I'm about to get a little huffy towards in this here blog). After we had transacted payment/ paperwork/dog food/dog beds/dogs, the owner handed me a business card and said "Don't take offense to this, but...".
-----Time-out
Okay....starting a sentence with "don't take offense to this" immediately puts me and probably most people on the defensive. Especially when it comes to their dogs. This time was no different.
-----Time-in
"but...Wally could really use this." Within an instant I offered nothing but a blank stare...pause, two, three...but quickly snapped back to the situation and the card in hand. Immediately, my eyes jumped to "Behavior Modification" listed as a service on this mini-promo of a card. I calmly tried to reply with "Oh really, why?" and the owner was quick to respond with "He's really bad about jumping up and he just has so much energy. I didn't even have any dogs to pair him with for play time because he just had so much energy." The owner carried on and on, describing Wally's super-hyper-antics over the weekend and noted an instance when Wally came up behind her and jumped up, putting two paws into her back..."Oh...I can't breathe," was how the owner re-enacted her response to the incident. Meanwhile...I'm trying to keep my cool. We like being able to take our dogs here, so I refrain from hinting at any sign of irritation. We left with not much more than an "okay...well...thank you...and sorry..."

Pulling away from doggy camp, smiling on the outside was all I could do in hopes of muffling the seething, on-the-verge, rage I was close to bursting into. If I were born without a conscience (darn you Jiminy Cricket), this is what I would have said in response to the "Wally could use this" comment:

1. He's a puppy.
2. He's a dog.
3. You own a business for and about dogs - they're not humans and you sure as heck can't bank on 'em extending their paw for a handshake as a greeting every time you come into their presence.
4. He's a puppy.
5. Hunter is AMAZING. Maybe if we brought you a poorly behaved older dog that demonstrated our inability to raise a well-behaved dingo, THEN you could be suggesting "behavior modification." Why don't we wait and see how things shake out, eh? Maybe? Before we start making suggestions?
6. Cheer up...he didn't bite you, did he?
7. We're aware of the issue and working on it. Hmm...maybe that's how this conversation should have started..."Boy...Wally sure does jump up when he gets excited!" And our response would have been "Yeah...we know...we're working on it with him. It's taking a little longer for him to get the hint, but we'll get there." Instead of instantly pointing us to the crazy dog psychologist.
8. It's in his breed. You're a dog person, you should understand that. Here's a great description I found to explain this type of behavior that comes from Wally's pointer side: Bounciness. Young English Pointers (up to about two years old) romp and jump with great vigor, and things can go flying, including people. Hmm...Wally's young...he's part pointer...things are starting to add up here.
9. He's a dog.
10. He's a puppy.

I'm not trying to make excuses for Wally's jumping up, but I think the doggy camp owner could have given us a little more understanding before leaping to conclusions. I'll admit, my pride was a little wounded, but I'll get over it now that I've rambled on about it for some time.

I think what really set Ty and me off is that right before we left (and after the incident) the owner told us "He looks like he has some setter in him".

Hmmm...okay.... I'm not seeing the resemblance, but maybe you'll make note of something I'm apparently missing. I'll let you be the judge:

At 4:50 Wednesday morning, Ty and I awoke to that awful, all-too-familiar sound of wretching...dog wretching. The noise is unlike any other and can wake you from the deepest sleep. It's a horrid sound that comes across as a combo of burping, chest heaving, and choking. The victim (aside from Ty and me being woken by the incident)...Hunter. Not much of a surprise here, as Hunter is regularly regurgitating items in the middle of the night. When we wake enough to figure out what's going on, we usually attempt to move Hunter to a "safe" place to deposit his middle of the night gift to us. Safe is meant to imply somewhere NOT on our carpet. Often times it's either too late or he resists our nudging towards the linoleoum or easily washed dog bed. He has an inner voice telling him that carpet must be a better landing spot for the item he's about to puke up. So...we typically have no choice but to wait...wait and see what Hunter's throwing up for us this time. Over the years it's been a myriad of things including, but not limited to:

• the red plastic bits from half of a chuck-it he munched down for an afternoon snack (see photo below if you aren't familiar with a chuck-it)
  

• a baby rattlesnake he'd sniffed out and gobbled down on a walk (the snake was dead prior to consumption).
• mass quantities of crunched up sticks eaten upon return from numerous camping trips (for some reason he always sets a personal goal for himself to consume every fallen stick on the forest floor).
• and oh yeah...cat poop.
  

The most recent event was equally as puzzling as many of his past consumptions. At first we didn't see anything come out...just stomach bile (a glorious smell at the pre-dawn hour). But then...when we started to clean up the goopy stuff, hidden against the brown of Hunter's dog bed was a pine cone. A lone, in-tact, soggy, stinky, PINE CONE (please reference exhibit A).

1. Danni turned to run home from our house and Sonja passionately resisted the pull on her leash, taking her away from...gasp...Wally.
2. After a run concluding in our drive-way, Wally refused to return to the inside of his very own home with heels dug in. He wiggled away from my grasp and returned to Sonja - panickly bouncing around her, as though he was saying "don't go, don't go, don't go."
3. Wally watched Sonja leaving down our street from the front window. He even craned his neck to get one last glimpse as she trotted out of sight.
4. Wally and Sonja kissed. Running side-by-side, on numerous of our runs, they both paused, looked at each other, and leaned in. They even took the time to make sure their tongues touched (sorry if this is grossing any of you out...but it really, truly happened!!!).
5. Sonja has memorized the running route from her house to ours. Every time Danni leaves her house to run, regardless of whether or not they plan to run to our house, Sonja turns right and attempts to convince Danni they MUST charge on to Wally's house.

I think you get the idea. It's pretty funny to watch them interact. Today's playdate was no different. They ran, played, chased, ran, and played some more in the back yard for close to three hours. And what happened when the beagle next door happened to catch Sonja's attention? Wally put on his best show...grabbed a bone in his mouth, shook his head back and forth vigorously, and romped past her with quite a charge, saying "look here, Sonja...I'm way tougher than that dude!"

Here's to a quiet Friday night for Danni, Ted, Zeke, Ty, Leanne, and Hunter. Cheers!

If you've ever wondered what my life is like during the day - working from home with two dogs and a cat - here's a brief glimpse of what my "co-workers" are up to. And let me tell ya...not much. But oh, how I envy them...

A little snuggle time.


Fighting for a spot in the sun.