After yesterdays snow/ice/rain event, the sun is out, the air is warmer (if you call 30° warm) and everything looks positive out. I was allowed to sleep late by my valentine, Jefe, and the dogues do what Mama does so my brindley buddies and I stayed curled in our beds till almost 7:30. I thought about how I am listening to Sage a lot better and importantly, adjusting course to suit his comfort. If you think about it, how comfortable am I when he goes off because I dismissed his anxiousness. I know from him that he does not trust other dogs to be friendly at all. What’s different now is that I hear him, and I am acting sooner to give him my presence and an alternative choice to standing and confronting unfamiliar dogs.
Tuesday we went to the field and walked in the woods there, which I usually avoid due to the skinnyness of the path. Sage feels cornered in tight spots and staying on the path forces dogs into a head on meeting, which is too intense for him- think about walking a narrow hallway vs crossing a gymnasium- someone coming the other way must pass close to you, dogs cannot arc away to approach from the side. We met no dogs in the woods, but as we got to the end of the path, I saw Sage pick up his head and ears- I looked for what he heard- two women and two dogs in the field. They did not see us, being the camouflaged pack we are, and it was actually kindof dear to watch the two young dogs playing close to their owners as they walked along. They seemed very happy. Instead of marching on as if to show Sage there is nothing to worry about, I stopped behind where he was standing and we watched the group pass. He was not rushing out to be with them, and I chose to be with him, rather than “lead” the pack out.
It is just like what I learned about the trucks. When Rei barks that there is a truck on the street, I can yell at her to shut up, and she’ll keep barking. Or I can get off my duff and go look out the window and thank her for telling me, and she’ll wag and quiet down. Same with Sage- he alerts that there are dogs, he wants to assess the situation and is quiet. I stay with him and say, I see the dogs, thank you, Sage. You want to wait a bit? and he does. The dogs are quite a bit past and I say Wanna go? and he says sure. We come onto the field and we see Brandy, he wags ands bows from a great distance and then sphinxes, waits for her. she comes closer and lays down as well, they look slightly off from each other, then at some signal I can;t detect, they both leap together and romp and play.
We met a curly dog coming up behind us- a big, yellow curly dog, a labradoodle probably. Sage is anxious and licks his lips, he sits and puts his ears back, and looks around. I walk by Sage and tell him we can go over here, away from the curly dog, and Reilyl and Brandy will come too. But Curly is curious and follows us. Sage scoots away from Curly, ears back, but to me, Curly has relaxed body language. But he is large, unfamiliar and not minding his own business, and this is what has Sage upset. He mounts Brandy and Curly comes up and you can just see the big question mark over his head- What are you playing and I can I play too? Sage hops off Brandy and faces Curly, but instead of snapping at him, he braces and makes three barks. I call Sage and he comes, Curly goes back to his owner, and I tell her she can go ahead, that her dog is super cute but is making my dog nervous. She apologizes and I think she must think I think her dog is bad, but I say No, no, its fine, but we’re going to stay here and let you go ahead. I rub his chest until his ears come back forward and he stops licking his lips and his eyes lose their fear, and sparkle again. 30 seconds or so.
I think about how I just did right by Sage, even though the other woman probably didn’t get the intended message. I abandoned explaining or worrying much about what she thought of us. I was not as concerned about what people think of Sage and I- are we wild looking? is he as scary as he looks? Is she babying that dog? I did right by Sage first.
I led him a safe distance from a greyhound I knew was harmless, but Sage felt unsure of. He stuck by me and the dog passed, we turned our attention to a portly yellow labrador bolting downhill toward us, all giddy to meet new friends. When she arrived, she hunkered down and panted and looked every bit as nonthreatening as she could so I did not coach Sage at all. They sniffed and were fine together. He played with his friend Cleo the husky- fun to listen to them play as they bow and she makes little talking sounds and then flicks away, which I think surprises Sage. He likes her but he doesn’t feel he can keep up with her. They run and bow and frisk and he leaves Brandy to do this, but Cleo is a very independent girl and after a short dalliance she skips away to hunt or join her owner.
We meet a nervous dog, Reilly, Brandy, Cleo and Seiji approach and the nervous dog ditches his owner and runs a short way off, tail tucked. Sage runs after him, and bounds up. Sage is not at all mistrustful of this dog. He sniffs him politely and the dog’s tail relaxes, they chase a little but the nervous dog still is nervous because the big females are still coming and must greet Cleo and Reilly. Sage lets him alone and goes off with Brandy. Later he meets a large male labrador and watches for a while. This guy is sticking by his owner, relaxed. Sage considers him for a long time and then runs hell for leather up to him, pops up and down and around the lab, who pops up and down with him a little but doesn’t really want to play, then tears back to me. I am not sure what that is about. It is the way he greets the malamutes- a sort of giddy fanboy. Cal the Mal usually rumbles at Sage to chill out a bit. It is an old dog- young dog thing.. He is a dignified guy and never puts Sage down. He just rumbles and turns away.
By the end of that walk, Sage was humping Brandy more and more, and we called it a day and went back to the car. I think at that point it was stress-relief behavior, the same as when he tugs on my mittens or coattails. “Comfort me with something good. Distract me. Bring me back to normal. Make things fun again- that was stressful.” Brandy is tolerant and she ‘gets’ him, she will allow him to get on her back and she will look back at him, mouth relaxed and open. After a few seconds of it though, she tells him “off, now” and off he goes, they run and jostle. I think while it looks very rude to people, I am grateful that Brandy and her owner understand and are not offended.
Frustrated by training mechanics and equipment, I have gone back to Bones and am opening more to Sage. But you can’t just do that alone, it is not enough. If you respect your buddy and hear him, you must respond with what you hear in mind. “This makes me nervous.” Okay we can wait/pull over. This is hard because it is against what most of us are brought up with “Eat your peas! Just shut up and Do it! I don’t have time for this! The kid is spoiled. The child lies. She is wrapped around his little finger. He is whipped.” It is hard to forget all those words we have heard, and trust that we are hearing and doing right by our dog or our kid, by what we hear from them right now. But I think it is the way I must work with Seiji.
I probably need to work more this way with my daughter- she is an artist through and through, and knowing what I know, I need to listen, appreciate and advocate for her specific learning style and talents. see, dog training leads in many directions, when you have at the core the relationship and the laws of learning.
So on this icey morning, I could tell right off that the way Sage and Reilly were sliding around the backyard held little promise for the walk I wished I could have today. I wanted a walk where the dogs could cut loose and RUN after doing nothing all the stormy day yesterday but lay around inside. I thought I could probably take Rei on a long leash walk on the street. If she wore her booties she would not get salty paws. But I cannot walk Sage far enough to exercise him, and fetch in the backyard is treacherous with the ice coated snow. We went to HWoods, and walked in the tire tracks of some vehicle that upon closer and closer inspection seemed less likely to be a truck or jeep, judging from its smoother tire tracks and the prints from it bottoming out. It was still not too fun until we got to the downhill part where lots of water was still rushing and broke up the ice and snow. The dogs nosed around and drank water. They didn’t slip too much and we hopped from ice block to snowbank and explored the streams and mud. We found the license plate to the vehicle that had been joyriding in the ice. I picked it up and knocked the leaves and mud off. It wasn’t just the license plate but the whole plastic thing that you bolt the license plate to. The sun was kindof nice and I took a few pictures with the phone that didn’t come out too well, and I tried walking on the undisturbed crusty snow, but didn’t know whether it would support me, or if i would punch through and how far through. When I finally dropped my left foot through the crust and into a deep puddle below, sending muddy cold water up my calf and over the edge of my boot to seep along my sock and down to squish in my sole, I decided this wasn’t fun anymore and we headed back to the car.
I loaded the dogs up. I have put the window covers back up in the way back, and decided that I have had about enough of Seiji jumping the seats and that I need to work out a way for him to stay in the back. I put his Roadie on and tethered him with carabiners and a short strap to the tie downs in the bed of the wagon, but when I left the car to go into the bank, he had slipped the Roadie. I need to quit fooling around and just get the barrier that goes with this car. So I just hoped for now that the presence of Reilly in the backseat would keep him from jumping the seat and drove to the police station to turn in the license plate.
Our town has a new police station, and I have never been in it before. I guess I expected it to have a reception area, a counter, a person to talk to. I expected it to be professional and well lit. Maybe like a town office or a bank. I sortof remember the last time I went to the old police station - it was 1987 and my mother had forgotten to pick me up after a school dance. She fell asleep. I waited a fair amount of time for her, as I was well aware of her tendency to be late for things, but when I was the only kid left outside the high school, I walked across the parking lot to the police station, and asked for a ride home from the cops. They obliged me and took me home in a cruiser. When we arrived at my house, I went on the porch and rang the doorbell. No answer. I knocked, I banged on the door, nothing. I looked back at the officer and shrugged. He rolled the lights and howled the siren. Mom got up and let me in. she was mortified, of course, but remember that she was pretty stressed out raising three of us all alone. Who can blame her for needing some solid sleep? At any rate, I seem to remember that police station being well lit and with a glass window like a bank. This new police station was not at all what I expected.
I walked in the main door- it has a fuzzy mat the said “WELCOME” in cursive letters and a smart decal on the door of a badge. My eyes needed to adjust from the bright sunlight outside, but the room I found myself in now was still very dark. I saw no desk, no signs. Only closed heavy wooden doors, an elevator and three large glass plates on the facing wall, black and nearly opaque. Like the eyes on Darth Vader’s mask. I looked around the room for guidance, standing there with my one muddy leg and clutching my dripping license plate, and a voice came over a speaker “Can I help you with something?”
I tried to locate the woman, I looked all around, “can I HELP you?”
I said “Yeah I , uhm…I found this license plate, I ..I can’t see you? Where are you?”
“you don’t NEED to see me!”
“Okay, oka…”
“CAN I HELP YOU WITH SOMETHING?”
“Yes, I found this license plate in the woods and I thought you might be able to find who it belongs to…”
I wanted to be speaking to *someone* and I peered hard through the middle window now- I made out a copier I think and a woman standing there, several feet back from the glass. “Just put it in the door there and I’ll get it on this side.” I noticed a stainless steel compartment door to the right of the windows and I gingerly opened the door and laid my muddy license plate inside. The sterility of the experience made me feel like I probably should have peeled ALL the leaves off the plate, but the greater feeling was that I wanted to leave this place as soon as I could.
“Thank you”
“Okay, thanks a bunch.”
I didn’t want the Great and Powerful Oz to think I was THAT unhinged by this less than friendly “small town” experience, so I stood a moment and looked at two papers pinned to a small bulletin board before I pushed open the door back to the sunshine. Back to my car that smells like dogs and hay, and I drove directly home to dry off and stay out of the weird day, behind a minivan with a bumper sticker below its back window that read “I love KITES.”
