Truth, lies, and fanning the flames

A lot on my mind, many a post not written or shared... Busy is good, silence is golden, and all that.

I spent yesterday temperament testing dogs at a shelter. As a therapy dog team evaluator, this is something we do about once a month, attempting to identify shelter dogs as potential therapy dogs. Of 10-15 we examine per session, on average, 3 qualify as candidates.

The time in-between dogs is usually spent having interesting discussions about dogs, behavior, "the system" of shelters, breeders, puppies, on and on. Yesterday it was suggested that, oh if only, everyone could stop breeding until every shelter dog had a home, then overpopulation and kill rates would be resolved. I pointed out that the market for shelter animals is very different than the market for dogs from Responsible Ethical Breeders. I suggested that if somebody wants a well-bred puppy with health-tested parents and proven lines of breed XXXX, that somebody is not going to go to the shelter and pick up a dog that doesn't meet those criteria. That person won't get a dog at all, until one becomes available from a REB.

The problem, I suggest, is that there is a huge market for puppies in the country. Not a huge market for badly-behaved adolescent dogs or elderly, ill, and infirm dogs.

The truth is: Responsible Ethical Breeders don't produce enough puppies to satisfy the puppy market in this country.

The problem, I suggest, is that shelters are pressured to lower kill rates and increase placement numbers, which results in poor placements to begin with and untracked returns as well.

The problem, I suggest, is that REB's are portrayed as the enemy, when REB's don't contribute to the shelter population at all.

The problem, I suggest, is that most shelters do a poor job of breed identification, and many shelters refuse to work with breed-specific rescue groups.

The solution, I suggest, is that we stop pointing fingers at each other and focus on the people who buy dogs, regardless of source, and ensure they have good information for making informed decisions on acquisition AND information on how to be responsible owners. This means buyers understand how much food and vet bills cost, what good training is and where to find it.

And I say BUYER quite deliberately. Cute euphemisms like "adoption fee" don't change reality: money changes hands. It's a purchase, let's not deceive ourselves. No matter our feelings, dogs are, legally, property. That makes us owners.

Most of us are involved in rescue, on some level. Most of us are familiar with "foster failure" and have the dogs (and vet bills) to prove it. Most of us come to understand that the people who buy from shelters and irresponsible BYB's are the ones that create the shelter problem: if there is no market, there would be no supply.

Can one get a great dog from a shelter? Of course - but the odds are against it. Can one get a terrible dog from a REB? Of course - but not only are the odds against it, the REB will sell her soul to make it right.

Driving home, I saw a billboard that said "There's nothing wrong with shelter dogs." Having just spent 5 hours temperament testing shelter dogs, I vehemently disagree.

It's OK to laugh, and pass a tissue

I went to a funeral yesterday, and had a great time.

A friend died earlier this week, the service was yesterday and I went to pay my respects. I didn't know her well, just someone I ran into from time to time - we took herding lessons the same place, did a lot of the same sports - and liked well enough. We weren't close, never "did lunch" or had the other over for dinner. But I think I would have liked her well enough for that.

The service started with a joke, which was followed by a round of applause. This woman had three distinct areas in her life - corporate, musical theater, dogs - and friends shared memories from each of these. She gardened and cooked and traveled... a full life by most any measure. There was a performance by singers from the theater (including a lyric soprano that was terrific), a reading by a young granddaughter, and recollections from a colleague.

The music moved many to tears, but it's the colleague's speaking that I found deeply touching. A tall, elegant man, his bearing quietly stating his gravitas, choking on his words at the loss of his dear friend. Sometimes it seems the only place men feel safe showing emotion is at sport events - cheering, shouting, hugging, pumping fists. That's not so... 

Life is what we make of it. And it's short, oh so very brief. I am reminded that we don't know how long we have, how long our loved ones have, so we must make the most of every day. And hope to laugh and sing as well as cry at as few funerals as possible.

Unbearable Cuteness of Being

If there's anything more fun than 5 and 6 week old puppies, I don't know what it is. This is the pay-off of weeks of work and worry, months of planning and paranoia, sleepless nights, endless laundry and hope.

The Dva puppies are 6 weeks old and although I've kept their webpage current, somehow the blog got neglected. Sorry about that - guess I was distracted!

Anyway, the puppies met the tunnel this morning. They had the buja board in their play area for several days, and took to romping on it like it wasn't even there. (Somewhere there *are* pictures, but I can't find them right now!) I love buja boards because they MOVE and MAKE NOISE and seem UNPREDICTABLE - all of which teach puppies that these things are NO BIG DEAL and in fact FUN.

On our daily adventures and evening walkies they encounter all manner of obstacles - railroad ties marking off an old garden area, drainage ditch, big dirt piles, cactus - our property could hardly be called "groomed". Puppies learn that the ground is uneven, holes happen, falling down is normal, getting up and having another go is the only way to fly.

As their adult baby-sitter is rotated each day, it has become necessary to ensure the adult dog doesn't steal all the puppy food. So an old section of wallboard with a small dog door is set up to block the in/out of the x-pen barricade. A few days of this - puppies have to find the opening and navigate the hole to get into the big paddock - and they are zooming in and out with ease (in for water and food, out for a big playmate and more room to run).

"In" has other perks - Ripple sez MY rabbit skin.

This morning I simply set the tunnel on the "out" side of the puppy hole - they had to go through the tunnel to get into the big yard.

Four of the little stinkers were out before I had my camera turned on.

Hm, I'll stop and have a sniff.

This isn't a real agility tunnel, but a kiddie version. The real things are heavy, opaque, and expensive. Not what I want puppies exploring with their teeth - which of course is the next thing they do, followed immediately by jumping on it.

Why go around? Over works just fine.

Pretty soon they were running in and out like pros, which is exactly the point.

In.

Out. Repeat.

In the puppy paddock (about 3000 sq ft) they can run to their hearts' content. And explore - the big dog-door into the kennel

Moose (r) peers inside; Chip (l) changes directions.

and the big dog house (room to run in there!)

Hey, whatcha doin' in there?

jump on / run over whatever is lying about

The inverted pool was covering a critter hole; these pups are gamey!

and just generally run like fools.

Dulce (r) in hot pursuit of Vanna (l).

Just another morning in puppy playland...

So I guess this is a Coven?

We are back to Vampires - particularly now that TEETH are coming in! Between toenails and teeth, it's no wonder Tigress sez "how much longer am I gonna do this?"

This is what 42.5# of puppies looks like!

How on earth do puppies go from 1# to 5# in just three weeks?!?! Mama's on a steady diet of unlimited fresh water and Evo, an incredibly calorie-dense kibble. She also gets an assortment of ice cream, cottage cheese, yogurt, eggs, tripe - and last night she asked for a bit of cucumber from my salad. I figure, she can have whatever she wants, as this coven of vampires suck her dry several times a day.

The puppies made many other advances this week, and we got some clarification on colors - with some intriguing possibilities. See their webpage for details. Walking - forwards and backwards - is pretty coordinated on good footing, but on slippery surfaces resembles a game of Twister.

One of the things most good breeders try to follow is the "rule of 7's" - and I think it would be hard not to hit 7 of everything by 7 weeks of age. Take for example, surfaces: laps (different kinds of clothing), plastic bottom of whelping box, piddle pads, newspaper, rag in weighing box, blankets (rough and smooth sided), climbing on toys, climbing on dam, grass, dirt, gravel... I find it impossible that any puppy could not be on 7 different surfaces in a matter of days. I like the "rule of 12" and suspect that with just a bit of conscious effort that's quite doable for most puppy raisers. Though I for one will not discourage borzoi puppies from chasing ;-)

Not our usual sunset...

The horrifying smoke of the past 10 days has, thanks to favorable wind directions, abated for the present. Here's a photo of last night's sunset. The sun's color is creepy (due to the smoke haze) but at least we can see the mountains. And the stars at night - I really missed those.


However the frequently hazardous breathing conditions put a damper on visitors - three new people this week. That makes 17 since birth, still a respectable number.

Papa Py has sniffed them and gently wagged is tail - I have no reason to think he knows they are his, but his gentleness with these new members of His Pack is unmistakeable.

Py gazes fondly at Bruno, Dulce, and Ripple.

The paper over the insulation is missing in several places.

And in unrelated news... Anthony is now sharing the shower in the master bath, as there's a wee problem with the tile in his bathroom... We are a cozy threesome these days!

As my friend Susan is coming to help do puppy evaluations in 5 weeks, we have a very clear deadline for getting this all put back together.

Chew Thoroughly Before Inhaling

No doubt everyone with a TV or access to a newspaper is aware of the out-of-control fire in Arizona. As of this morning, the smoke was reported visible in Iowa. Not hard to believe... but it is hard to breath.

A few pictures for those having trouble imagining what it's like:

The usual view of South Mountain (with the Sandias in the background; looking west)

Same mountain, seen driving north on Hwy 344 this morning, just after the smoke moved in.

A perfectly ordinary sunset (taken last month), as seen from our driveway.

Grey does not photograph well.

A photo taken last night, from the same spot in my driveway. See the mountains? No? Well, you're right. They are completely obliterated by the smoke.

The sun isn't usually that color (a surprisingly accurate photo), and as the evening progressed the sky changed from a thick grey to a sickening yellow - similar to a tornado sky.

Before bed, my husband went outside with a flashlight. He said there was ash falling like snowflakes. I have to wonder: will embers travel this far, too?

And, the obligatory puppy picture. My client Becky was kind enough to come in after her agility lesson, and cuddled every puppy.

Shown here with Vanna.

You may be wondering how the puppies are faring with this weather. This has been a source of major concern for me the last couple of days, and I've talked with friends in NE and TN about evacuating Tigress & the puppies to cleaner skies. Thanks to a home-rigged evaporation cooler for the whelping box/play pen and a HEPA-quality air-filter, the family room is currently comfortable.

All the dogs are indoors full-time, exercise and road-work schedules are at a stand-still, and our thankfully cool tile and brick floors are littered with bored dogs. Better safe than sorry, however, no heavy breathing allowed at this time.

We have our fingers crossed the monsoons arrive sooner than later - because rain (and lots of it) is the only chance we've got.

Ch-ch-chaaaanges

Yesterday was a big day! The puppies went on a field trip and moved to bigger quarters.

Friday night one of the puppies escaped from the whelping box - exactly 2 weeks old and made it over the pig rail, over the wall, onto the tile, and almost half-way across the study floor. Tigress was sleeping in the hall bathroom, apparently finding the tile in there cooler than in the study. (The weather has been horrifying the last few days, more on that in a moment.) It is normal for the puppies' mid-night screaming to wake me up, and if it goes on for several minutes I will investigate. You can not imagine my shock at finding a puppy so young, so far away from the whelping box! Tigress was utterly non-plussed, the puppy was hopping mad but quickly got over it, and I recovered as well. They both went back in the whelping box, and I put up the box's door.

So yesterday we moved them into the family room; normally I do this when they turn 3 weeks old but in order to attach the playpen I need more space than my study easily allows. This project goes in several steps. One, the corner of the family room has to be emptied of furniture. Two, the puppies had to go "somewhere" while the whelping box was taken down, moved, and re-assembled. (The design of this thing is utterly brilliant, incredibly easy and fast to move.)

The fires in Arizona have sent smoke into New Mexico the last few days, and the air quality has been unspeakably bad everywhere in our part of the state. Yesterday afternoon we got a shift in the wind that lifted the haze and revealed blue skies for a while - so the puppies went outside to enjoy the cooler air.

Silly ranch puppies - who needs the towel? We like dirt!!

Tigress laid down next to them in the shade, keeping careful watch. She remained calm and vigilant while her brood moved to a corner for a puppy-pile nap.

Twice the size makes Tigress smile.

Once the new set-up was complete (about 10 minutes), everyone moved back inside to check out the new digs. Tigress promptly clean all the "outside" off her babies and they settled down for a nosh.

Now in the family room, the puppies will get exposure to all manner of sights and sounds - the front door, the TV, laundry activities - and even easier to get cuddles on the sofa with us!

This also means I'll be spending less time on the computer for a while, as the study is far away from their new accommodations.

While the puppies are now better confined, Tigress can hop in and out at her leisure by using the love-seat next to the playpen. This arrangement makes everybody very happy!

And now: Zombies

Watching puppies learn to walk is not just adorably cute. It is also, if you have two teenaged males in the house, a horror-movie analogy opportunity in full swing.

Wait a minute, some of you are saying - two teenaged males?

Well yes. One is 19 and one is 58, but behaviorally they are both teenagers. My husband recently started watching The Walking Dead, yet another re-make of a UK show done for US television. (This is another Netflix recommendation. Sometimes they hit it, sometimes they miss.) So between True Blood re-runs (we're eagerly anticipating the next DVD release) and this new show, you can understand how The Boys have zombies on the brain.

What does this have to do with puppies? Not much really, but puppies do stagger about on their legs (two weeks old today) and moan with half-seeing eyes... so... zombies. Get it?

I don't know if zombies sleep, but if they do, it might look like this:

Dulce napping.

The puppies also sit, climb, and cuddle. For more adorable pictures, see their web page. For thoughts on socializing young puppies and long-term consequences, see Sophia Yin DVM's excellent article.