The Two Amigos

Zappa and Fiona at 4 months old

Some extra quality time with Zappa and Fiona is always a treat.  Everything about them is extra special.  Zappa and Fiona are the two puppies we kept from the litter and have been here since day one.  They are the two 'good' kids.  They are great walkers, calm and quiet in the car,and they will tolerate other dogs.  They are well mannered, calm and secure.  They are a perfect example of Brut and Silver’s best qualities. They are both a little smarter and a little wiser than the generation before.  Not that they don’t each have their own set of quirks and behavior issues, but on an overall basis, they are the dogs with the even temperament and disposition. 

When I set aside that special time for them, I am always so amazed.  They have taken everything that shines in their father and mother and created it to be theirs, in their own way, with their own personalities.  The biggest difference about Zappa and Fiona is something I’ve never witnessed in any dog I have ever met, being loved and kept from the time of conception and birth.  There is an inner calmness and security that centers from within them.  It is like nothing I have ever seen before.  There entire lives were based on love.  A love that is more than just absence from abuse and/or neglect, but a wholeness and oneness of themselves that radiates from their being.  I dare say it is phenomenal.  And that I really can’t explain it.  In a world of pain, hurt, and suffering of so many humans and animals, Zappa and Fiona show you that there is such a thing as true love.  Almost like touching heaven. 

When I had to devote most of my time to Chance and Blaze’s return (two pups from our own litter who were abused and brought back) they quietly waited for me.  In the throws of my own healing they helped me understand the love that existed in them and selflessly gave of it.  And while we only had moments were short, their true love glowed through all of it. 

I used to have such a hard time with the amount of contentment Zappa and Fiona had compared to the gratitude and energy Chance and Blaze had, slowly I am beginning to understand.  The amount of love they have always been given is greater than what all of the dogs and my husband and I have ever had all put together.  I know it is something I can not begin to fathom,  having a full lifetime of love.  It is almost unbelievable.  And  yet I am able to look into Zappa and Fiona's eyes everyday for the proof that such a love exist.

 

I think we did the right thing.  

Born to Be

Mel over at No Dog About It Blog sparked this post with her post:  What do you find most beautiful in a dog?  Answering her own question with that she loves to watch dogs do what they were meant to do.    Having a family of almost Huskies lead me to answer her question with the natural ability our dogs have when they are doing what they were born to do, dog sled.

Which got my wheels turning about what exactly that means.

Brut's side of the family comes from racing lines.  That is all the info I have.  Before I even knew that much, the first time I saw Brut pull a sled, I knew instantly that something was different.  There was something more sophisticated in what I was witnessing, even though I didn't know what it was.  I 'd never seen a sled dog in action, but there was more to Brut than just a dog running with a sled behind him.

The lines in his body, his build, the structure of his bones and muscles were held in perfect alignment for his task, as if Brut and the sled were one unit.  It was if they were made for each other, like a key to lock.  Brut was the part that was missing from the sled and it's function.

As I dug further into this thought, my brain began exploding with light bulbs.  Their body, mind and spirit are specifically designed and tailored for sledding.  It isn't just the muscle or speed they can exert, it is a total engagement of their being.  They have been bred for thousands of years to be a well oiled and finely crafted machine with a heart and soul to match.

And Brut is only half Husky.  His children are three-quarter.  More specifically Blaze.

 When Blaze runs she looks like she is flying.  She becomes very streamline, yet with such strength, power and grace it will take your breath away.  Her design is expertly tailored for lightning speed, quick thinking and agile reflexes that are demanded of the position of a fantastic lead sled dog.  She just soars even when carrying more than twice her own weight with flawless effort.  It is exquisite just to part of such majesty.

The thought that struck me most flipping through my memory files is how it is the entirety of the whole dog that is encompassed in the breed.  Bloodhounds, don't just use their extreme scent glands to track, their entire body, mind and spirit is engaged during the process.  It is the same logic that I struggle so hard with the dogs not pulling on a walk, they were born to pull.  They are designed by all fathoms of their nature to pull.  And since I never taught them any different, they continue to be who they are.  Pull Dogs.  Simple.  I am fighting up against years and years of selective breeding and it never really occurred to me that this isn't just their bodies I'm wrestling with, but the entire nature of who they are.  Any other way is against the grain.

It certainly gives me a greater appreciation for purebred dogs.

Blaze is by far our most Husky-like dog, with Zappa and Brut following close behind.  And there has always been something about them when they are pulling that I could never put my finger on that just stood out so differently.  They were just being who they were born to be.

     

Krazy kitty vs. Silly dogs

In the war of cats vs. dogs, it is all about strategy, planning, and a dumb move made by the cat.  Little did Princess Leia know what she thought was a covert move dashing under the bed, became an opportunity for Fiona and Brut to practice their plot to dominate the world.  

And for all of you cat lovers out there, just look away.  

(editor's note:  no animals were harmed in making of this film,  just for some hurt pride:)
You'd think cornering the cat happens all the time around here, but surprisingly it is quite rare, which is why I couldn't resist to tape it.  :)

Monday Memories-Alex sitting on the dock of the bay

Monday Memories-our little trip down memory lane.

When Alex died, for some reason Otis Redding's, "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" started playing through my head and it became his song.

There's no significance or tie to Alex and the song, not even in hindsight, just that it was suddenly playing inside my heart when I lost him.

I had a few different ideas I planned to choose from to write for Monday Memories, when Otis started grooving again inside of me and all I could think of was Alex.

 Sing it Alex!!

Draft Week-How do you talk to your dogs?

This week I'm posting some of my "drafted" post.  This post, written last summer got lost somewhere down the line, but still holds true to this day.  

I am rather quiet, shy, introvert.  I don't like crowds or being at large gathers and most of the time I prefer to stay in as I dislike shopping and I am nervous in restaurants. I am not a good communicator, I prefer to write than talk.  I have lived most of my life in silence which brought me to an understating of dogs at a different level than most at a very young age.  When I am out with my dogs, I tend to stick to places where we are primarily alone.  This private time is sacred to me.  While I love witnessing and experiencing the packs in their entirety, there is something precious about communing in the solitude with a beloved dog and soaking in the calm that surrounds.  Most of my communication with my dogs is through body language where I find myself most in tune with them and I use hand gestures and eye contact to convey what feel.  I do talk to the dogs, but we rarely have long, vocal conversations.    

There are times I have found myself feeling a little guilty not talking to dogs more, but when my husband is home he makes up for the silence in the house and then some.  He is a pretty gabby guy and carries on with the dogs like they are long, lost friends after a long day at work.  When he takes one or two for a car ride he engages them in lengthy conversations, mingle with cute talk.  He sings to them all of the time, making up songs about them and every night he sings "Rock-A-Bye-Baby" to each and every one.  He can not talk to them enough.

So which are you the silent communicator or the jabber jaw when it comes to talking with your dog?      

Draft Week-Betrayal

I wanted to share a quick update about yesterday's post:  Chance's Slow Ride and to let you know that after I tried that experiment, Chance now rides much better in the van.  He was calmer and more secure.  All the dogs are a little leery about the truck, but just helping him through his fears a little made quite a difference riding in the van.  :)     


**********************************************************************************

This week I'm posting some of my "drafted" post that I was either to scared to post or too emotionally close to at the time.  This post has been a constant theme between Brut and I even though it was originally written the first of Dec. 2011.

This is a call out to all of those that have reactive, aggressive, or dogs with serious behavior issues.  I am weary.  I feel like I just don't have it anymore.  The last 6-8 months with Brut being in a "remission" of sorts has felt like it has lead me down a road of false illusion.  And that all of that progress has been wiped clean.  Right about the time I feel that deep radiating love for him and that I am suddenly aware of what a fantastic and fascinating dog he is, I feel the knife drive into my back.  Again.  I come from an abusive childhood, I understand the cycle of healing.  I know how I have lashed out for reason unknown to me and taken my pain and anger out on those I love.  There is something not right.

I feel like I don't have the strength to go through this wave again.  And it is the worst time to lose a sense of hope.  I need to be strong and firm and I just don't want to go through this all over again.  My fear that was reconciled has sprung again.  I want to react rather than assert.  Brut triggering off, triggers me.  Our issues are so closely related, I don't know how to stop the chain reaction.  And I am too tired to do so.  Can anyone relate?  Can anyone be as tired as I am at doing this over and over with such a special needs dog?  Does anyone have the desire to hand their dog over to someone else for a while and let them take care of them?  Or better yet "fix" them?  The words of that trainer ring in my head at these down times like this, "I don't know what I am getting into."  There is a lot of truth to that.  And the extreme highs and lows don't help matters.  To be going along and witness and be apart of the progress only to watch it all explode in my face.  So many pieces I feel like I can't pick up.  And I wonder how long I will have to do this.  And how many times.  I can't bring myself to even begin again.  It hurts too much.  It feels like a betrayal.

 Letting my little white flag fly in the wind.

I wrote this about the time I asked help from fellow bloggers that I couldn't be more grateful for.  I'd run out of ideas, I felt like I had no where to turn when I finally just laid all my cards on the table.  From there sparked ideas and creativity that when I read this again I realize how painful this journey has been with Brut and how far we have really come.  While I still have moments when I feel like this, they are further apart then what they used to be.  My cry for help also helped me learn to assist my husband when Brut's temper would flare because it made me realize my husband couldn't do it alone.   Brut doesn't listen to him and I have been learning to back up everything my husband was telling Brut in order to reinforce what was being asked.  It has made a world of difference for all of us.  So while these words are in a continuous cycle as they once were, they still ring true every so often when it all gets the best of us.            

Draft Week-Chance's Slow Ride

This week I'm posting some of my "drafted" post that I was either to scared to post or too emotionally close to at the time.  This post happened a couple months back.  The results blew me out of the water and I always wanted to try it again, but haven't yet.  Let me know what you think.  :)

The two most significant car rides Chance has taken (that I know of) was when he left our home at 9 weeks old and when his owners called for us to pick him up at almost a year old.  I don't think he had very much car experience with his previous owners and his anxiety is always high.   I've been wanting to try some good association with the vehicles and make it a better experience for him. All I was going to do was put him in the truck, let him calm down and take him back out.  I went with the flow of the moment and the results were utterly fascinating.

I grab some treats, his favorite comfort toy, and act like we were going for a ride.  Chance hops in the truck no problem.  We sit for about 10 minutes while he settles down.  He is alert, but relaxed and probably a bit confused.

I debate for a few minutes whether to go any further.  I put the key in.  No reaction.  So I start truck and leave it running.

Chance's anxiety starts to spike.  He sits taller and his breathing quickens.  He goes straight for his safety net, the window, except that it is closed and he begins turning in circles.  For the most part I let him work things out since I know we will not be moving and he doesn't seem to want my help.  Since we are taking this in slow motion and there hasn't been a the rapid build up, his anxiety is quite mild.  I give him a couple of treats when he seems to be settling down.

The boy is fogging up the windows, so I turn on the defroster.  No reaction.

For the next 10 minutes, I witness Chance settle rather comfortably into himself and he is solid.  He is looking around, studying, observing and doing great!  I am so proud of him.

I teeter whether to go further.  Finally, with direct but slow motions, I put on my seat belt, step on the brake, and put my hand on the gear shift.  No direct reactions from Chance, but I can tell he is very aware.

As soon as the truck is in gear, he is in a mild panic.  His body is taunt, ears slightly back, he is sitting, but he crouches low as if on guard.  He continually turns his head and darts his eyes back and forth as if waiting for the devil himself to pop out.

The truck is in gear for 15 seconds top.  Chance is gone.  Whatever this fear means to him, he is in it.  I turn off truck. 

We sit in silence while I observed him gain his surroundings and ground himself.  I sense he doesn't want to be touched or comforted and when I gently call his name, he isn't able to give me any eye contact.  Wherever he is at, I know he is still with me and I can tell he feels safe.  He acts like he wants to work this out for himself.  It takes about 20 minutes for him to be almost back in his skin again.

As we got out of the truck to take a walk (his reward) we found ourselves a bit disoriented and out of sorts that I cut it rather short.  When I went back to grab my purse out of the truck, Chance jumped right in when I opened the door, which I thought was a great sign.  We stay in the cab for a few minutes with his head in my lap and just held each other.  Then we got out and joined Blaze for a good romp outside.

      
Our entire "outing" was about 45 minutes long.  Slowing the process down gave him time to process what was happening while letting me gauge his reaction more precisely.  I was able to understand the intensity of each action and how they built up so rapidly.

About 15 minutes after the panic started and I was following Chance's eyes, something clicked inside me.  I found myself speaking out loud, about knowing how scary it is out there in the world and what it was like to never have a loving home and when you finally find one, you never want to leave it.  Ever.

I heard Chance's head gently drop with relief on the back of seat the minute I started speaking, as if I'd finally got what he was trying to tell me.  He knew all too well about never wanting to leave home. And without a doubt, no matter how crazy he can be in the car, he always curls up and lays in peace when we are heading home.

Monday Memories-A memory about a memory

Monday Memories-our weekly trip down memory lane.

Geesh!!  The little piggies won't even let me lay down!!

My husband and I watched this awesome video this past month of Silver feeding the puppies who were about 4 weeks old at the time.  We wanted to share it with all of you, but we were unable to copy it as our DVR is broken and all of our puppy footage is on analog.

My husband went movie crazy with the puppies, mostly for the fact he wasn't able to be around much due to the double time at work that suddenly happened not 24 hours after the little guys were born.  So he was quite a insane about getting everything on tape.  He used to drive me crazy.

Four years later as we are watching this video segment, I feel like I'm seeing it for the first time, through my husband eyes, who is also seeing it for the first time.  It was one of many feeding sessions, Silver walks in the whelping box and the puppies bombard her. She does everything to dodge them and avoid stepping on them.  She is standing and they are on their back legs standing up all fighting over those precious teats.  Somehow some way Silver slips in a quick move and quickly lies down, the puppies attack her in a crazy fury.  Fussy, yipping, and in a constant chaos as everyone fights to grab on for that furious suckling time.

1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4  All there!

Watching every move of this feeding frenzy after Silver is down,  I step in the box to count the pups to make sure she isn't lying on any of them..  1-2-3 (Husky-looking pups), 1-2-3 (black and white pups), 1-2-3-4 (white pups).  Every time Silver was in the box, I was counting.  Every time the pups left, were in another room, outside, I was counting.  I never left their sides, except for my own necessities and always made sure they were all there.  I never thought once about it or that I was doing anything special, it was just part of taking care of our grandkids.

As we watched the video, my husband had this loving smile on his face and said, "and there's you, right in the middle of it.  You just got right inside Silver and her puppies from day one and became part of them."  As I sat there mesmerized by 10 little tails on the screen all wiggling at attention as their bellies were being filled and watched what became a pivotal point in our lives, his words struck me, and I smiled back and said, "I did, didn't I?"  I begun to realize how completely enmeshed I was in this world of our litter of pups that we refer to the "Power of Ten."  I told my husband as we continued to be swept away by this feeding video, "This is only an example of ONE aspect of the puppies that was a continuous cycle flowing through our home for almost twelve weeks."  And I remember being so stunned as I relived just a piece of that time period.  The sounds, the smells and the touch that reverberated through our home of love as we live and breathed these new lives that surrounded us.  During that time period I was so wrapped up in it, I barely had a moment to realize the miracle that had taken over our home, until my husband's words attacked my heart and soul with such a fierceness as we watched with new eyes and the swelling blessings of the never ending miracle of ten puppies.

             The Amazing "Power of Ten"
(p.s. hopefully before long we will be able to transfer tape to computer.  Stay tuned!)

***********************************************************************

We'd like to send out a special crossed 24 Paws of Love for Houndgirl.  Our hearts are with you.