Life With Gromit and Chewie

The Never Ending Teeter Class

2012-01-21T16:20:00.003-06:00

There it is - a simple wooden plank functioning as a lever with a fulcrum somewhere close to the midpoint that allows the plank to tilt when weight is applied just past the fulcrum. This obstacle is known in agility as the teeter. Chewie believes that this contact obstacle should be entered into the Guiness Book of World Records as the most scary and potentially lethal encumbrance on any agility course.

Unfortunately the universe has done nothing to invalidate Chewie's opinion of the 'teeter.'
During our early training sessions, a high value treat was used to encourage him to push the teeter down with his paw. The treat was pressurized cheese in a can that flowed out through a valve - some know this as cheez whiz.

Chewie put his trust in me when I had the cheez whiz. He tipped the board ever so daintily, pushing it down to the floor as slowly as he could - and when he did that - the cheese flowed from the can into his mouth. Eventually I got him to try walking on the teeter. He has been miffed at me ever since. The first time he got to the center and pushed his paw past that fulcrum and felt the gravity pull his weight and the board down with a thud he leapt off the teeter. He walked around and made a high pitched noise and then like Snoopy he raised his nose straight up in the air and barked repeatedly scolding me and my craziness. The next time I convinced him to try and walk on the mysterious plank, the cheese can inconveniently exploded in his face as he was getting cheese from it.

Since then it has been just plain downhill with the teeter. Gromit came for a semi-private 10 minute lesson to "show" Chewie how the teeter is done. He was so enthusiastic he plowed over the teeter, slap, bang the wood hit the floor loudly. Chewie cowered from the noise of the teeter.

Then some kind friends gave me a teeter base for my birthday.

Thinking it might be easier on Chewie if we used it in his home environment I put it together. He and I and Gromit were out in the dog yard when I flipped it over and was about to introduce them to the new toy. Suddenly Gromit jumped on it and the chain from the base couldn't handle the weight - the chain snapped, the teeter base collapsed and the whole board flapped onto the ground with a loud crash and a draft of air that made Chewie's mustache fly. Chewie scurried away and wouldn't even sniff the board for a few days.

Eventually he hated the teeter so much that he stopped getting out of the car for agility class to avoid the potential that it might be in class.

He wouldn't take treats when other dogs were doing the teeter, wouldn't acknowledge his ball - he just laid in a lump on the floor and panted or pawed at me to leave the building.

Our instructor stopped doing the teeter in classes that we attended.

But Chewie has grown past all obstacles now except for this one. In order for us to move on to the next level he has to get this obstacle or we will be stuck.

So today, we started the teeter from scratch again. Kristin built us a simple teeter. We put it in the living room. We put it on carpet so the bang is not loud. It is a little shorter board and it is much lower to the ground than a normal obstacle.

The picture above shows Chewie's reaction to the teeter being welcomed into our living space. He sunk his head into my forearm and asked to sit in my lap. I invited him up but he could not get to the front of my chair with that 'thing' in the room. Finally he put his paws up on the arm of the chair and his head across my chest looking for some comfort.

Trying to keep the mood light I giggled and gave him a couple of pats. Then I grabbed a clicker and clicked it. Gromit woke up from his afternoon nap and came trotting. He was up for a game, teeter, nose, tricks - didn't matter to him just as long as it was a fun game.

Chewie mulled around in the background of the room. Gromit was tentative. It is not a 'real' teeter. He figured it out though and ran back and forth pausing at each end - two feet on two feet off.

The thump was not too much and Chewie stuck around. If Gromit was getting treats then he needed some treats. He got treats just for hanging out in the same room with us and listening to the teeter.

Gromit left for the dog park and our friend Karen arrived with Beau. The real work began.
Chewie was on his leash. I got some cheese - real cheese. Beau very happily worked on the teeter first slamming it down but not too hard. Every time that board hit the ground Chewie got a treat.

Then Beau sat out and Chewie and I walked toward the board I clicked and treated if he looked at the board or moved toward the board. Amazingly he touched the board with his nose. I threw a party and we took a break. Karen suggested a higher value treat for post break.

We had some coffee/tea and then the big finale. Beau and Chewie took turns touching and getting treats at the same time. Kind of like a race but not exactly. Whatever Chewie did to touch the board got him a treat. Of all things he actually used his paw and pushed it down. Wahoo - that was huge and the end of a the teeter class for today. He got an entire square of cheese for that act.

Here they are - Chewie and Beau - thanks Beau!
For Chewie, the teeter is now in our house and it is a never ending class - we will get it !

Picking up the pace and whatever else needs picking up

2012-01-08T20:01:00.000-06:00

Life partners, spouses, friends, family - they all watch and share in how my life grows and, well, they also get the joy of watching me as I repeat some life lessons and challenges - over and over again while I try to get them right.

One lesson that I keep pushing on is physical capability. I was born into a family of natural athletes. I however, have never been blessed in quite the same way. Don't get me wrong - I appreciate every single motor skill I have from large to fine. But while I seem to have the endurance factor in spades I do not have speed or coordination locked up like my brothers and sister. For whatever reason I don't have a good competitive schema. I do find that this makes it harder to get myself out of the chair. I also seem to lack the self control with food that my other siblings have and my body gets bigger faster and smaller slower than anyone in our family. Or so it would seem to me - all things revolve around me in my blog - me and Gromit and Chewie that is.... I do love the state fair diet, not at all adverse to the flour, butter and eggs fried up in a little fat and sprinkled with sugar...ahem...

About three years ago I trained for a marathon with some friends. We trained spring, summer and early fall. You might think training for a marathon would be really hard but we maintained a laid back philosophy around our long runs. We would save up our good stories from the week to share during the long run. Sometimes I would find myself talking about a weird dream or most embarrassing moment or a work puzzle that just couldn't be solved while I was at work. Between the three of us telling our stories, we were able to stay focused on something other than pulling our feet up off the ground and pushing our hips forward. We made the long runs enjoyable and kept our pace comfortable. Towards the end of our training we would run about 18 miles and stop at the Mel-O-Gkaze bakery along Minnehaha Creek parkway to pick up some donut holes to add some calories to our final two miles. That kind of gives you an idea of our intensity.

When the day of the marathon arrived it was incredibly hot for Minneapolis. We started the run but the heat and my nerves got the best of me. I was so disappointed. It took me at least a year to move on from not finishing that run. Once I dropped out Kristin and I grabbed our scooters and took off to support our other friends. I think I made the right decision. I was too slow by mile 7 and the water stops actually ran out of water by mile 13 due to the heat. I would have been quite a mess if I had kept on pick going. I made it about 9 or 10 miles. Plus I got the bonus of getting that extra time with good friends. I miss that regular time - in a good way. By the way they both finished - it was quite impressive.

Anyway, I started running again with vigor last year. I decided to go extra slow with building my mileage and focus on speed. I wanted to get a pace that was comfortable and that would allow me to stop worrying about getting picked up by the dreaded bus or feeling like I was being stalked by the paramedics driving the ambulance. I started doing trail running because I love it and it keeps me entertained. It is easier on my joints overall but I am not sure that the falling really works in my overall fitness strategy. It is more challenging and works my muscles differently. It really helped my pace on road running to do the technical terrain of a trail run. Chewie loves loves loves the trail run.

Here is the part where I am going to try to explain how hard it is to be me, I mean to be my partner. Over the summer I got a Garmin running watch. It will give me distance and pace and downloads to my computer so I verify the run. I was immediately addicted to this thing. I wouldn't leave home without it and went nuts trying to figure out how to use it for my runs. Sometimes I couldn't believe how slow I was going and wondered if it was working. On the days where it was showing me going faster I still wondered if it was working. I started and stopped it for every little thing - stop lights, drinking water, the dog stopping to sniff - I didn't want to count anything that wasn't running. I started to set my mood by the Garmin. I would get cranky at Gromit when I had to pull him and happier when he was pulling me. The Garmin was so much better when he was pulling me.... I remember one incident where I was horizontal to the ground and on that run I believe the Garmin clocked my best pace at just over 6 minute miles for all of 15 feet- that is because I was flying through the air - I think it had something to do with a squirrel. I was actually parasailing behind Gromit without a chute. Suffice it to say that my need for speed resulted in a skinned knee and a bit of a hobble for a week after that 'pb' run - personal best.

Chewie was the man though - he was steady eddy. I could start that Garmin and stop it maybe twice in a whole 7 mile run. It was like we were sharing head phones - and he was relaxed and enjoying the music and the sun, the dirt, the prairies, the lakes and the big old shade trees. He just went about his run like it was the best job in the world. He was going to be the best running dog in the world and he would not let the Garmin get in the way of his steady.

I needed to rethink this strategy of stopping my watch all the time. It was really getting crazy and I wasn't so sure that some of the stopping and starting was unnatural. I came home and talked about this with Kristin ad naseum. At some point I decided to just stop stopping the watch at all. I decided I needed to start getting the facts and truth about my runs so I would not be discouraged at races when I saw my times.I mean, they don't stop the clock if I walk for water during a race. I don't know why they don't, they should, but they don't - LOL!

Funny thing about obsession. The Garmin has its place and has helped me increase my pace by an average of about 2 minutes per mile for my 6 mile runs. Nothing to shake a stick at although I am likely giving away how slow I truly am....once my pace was acceptable I wanted to take a look at how I was doing with consistency.

I started looking at the graphs of my runs to see where I was slowing my pace - was it hills, was it during a particular song - that kind of thing. I made some adjustments. Then one day I came home and saw this graph where there were two big spikes where I had slowed way down for about a tenth of a mile. This happened twice. I was racking my brain trying to remember what was happening at mile 1.6 and mile 2.2???? Oh - oh - I was waiting and picking up after Chewie and then I was getting untangled from running over to a garbage barrel and tossing what I picked up after Chewie - I just started laughing.

Overall things are looking up in the running world for me. I still have to get a half marathon under my belt that I am comfortable with before I make the final push for a marathon. I have done a couple but am not happy with my times yet.

I guess while I work on picking up the pace I might find a little balance in stopping the watch when I am picking up after Gromit and Chewie. It might be okay to not rush the doodles - every pace has it place.

I've Got a Great Idea

2011-11-16T19:36:00.000-06:00

When I was a kid my parents told us(their children) that they wanted us to understand the value of money. So they gave us a weekly allowance. When I was 9 it seemed like so much money. We got almost $2 per week. At 9 that was a lot of money - I turned 50 this year, 41 years ago.... my Mom would send me to the grocery store with a dollar and I would come home with milk and bread and possibly have enough for a Hershey bar.

We had some chores but I don't remember ever feeling like I was working enough to get $2 per week. For all my childhood presumptions this was not one of them. I never felt like my parents owed me an allowance - it always seemed like a great big gift.

Like the Brady Bunch and the Partridge Family - there was one kid that was great at saving money, Lisa, and one that was not so good, Heidi, and one that was somewhere in the middle, Scott(my little brother Paul was too small for allowance ).

Anyway, my older brother and I have always had a bit of a confusing relationship. I think the easiest way to explain it is - he was first and in my eyes perfect and well....I was very good at being the middle child. I could make just about anything be about me and make it very clear that no one could possibly understand how hard it was to be me...ever... harumph!...Scott paid little attention to the ups and downs but he seemed to find the Heidi in me in the most unexpected places. Like one of my favorite birthday presents came from him - it was a music box. It was a black plastic box. On the top was a circle that had a shimmery gel/sand layered with multiple mod colors. The colors would change as a tiny blip would move around the liquid on the top. For the life of me I can't remember the song it played...it was kind of like a Star Trek music box - and oh I loved the Star Trek.

He also gave me sheet music for Christmas one year. It was from Barry Manilow's original hit - "Could it be Magic?" My first official Chopin - not my first dramatic piece but my first lay into the keys and hear a good full rich deep series of chords moody and moving, moving in a way that was new that made it a puzzle to voice my fingers - where was the melody, how much was melody... oh, music with choices...I don't know that Scott knew that was what it was for me. It wasn't embarrassing yet to like Barry back then. Now I am a bit reticent to admit I loved the guy's music. And for the record Scott also shared good jazz with me which led me to listen to Maynard Ferguson, Herbie Hancock and Chick Corea and eventually find the old original jazz greats - the earth and salt of New Orleans jazz, the grittiness of Kansas City jazz and intellectual New York City Harlem jazz. He also introduced me to Windham Hill and minimalism- he might be glad or not so glad that I am sharing this with you all - who knows.

Now as siblings are able to do - Scott could bring out the best in me and he also knew exactly how to get my goat. I remember one year the kids got a game called Payday for our Christmas present. We all sat around in my grand parents house playing the game in the dining room away from the adults and the endless talk. With all the patience of a big brother he worked through the rules with Lisa and I. We played the game and he won. We all agreed it was a good game. At the end of the game Scott asked for the rules and added a rule in blue ball point ink: "the losers will pick up the game after the winner throws it around the room." Then he picked up the game board and splayed the game pieces and money around the room. As any middle child would do, I of course considered myself 'had' and pouted while I picked up the game and told my little sister we had no choice. What?!

So the year of the allowances - and the great idea - Scott was 11, I was 9 and Lisa was 7. It was heading towards Christmas. Scott called and facilitated a siblings meeting to discuss what to do for our parents for Christmas. We met in Scott's room - he sat on the bunk bed, I sat on the floor and Lisa on the bean bag chair. Paul moved about the room like any small toddler would do but we were sure to include him. Scott had an idea - he had seen a punch bowl down at the hardware store. He thought Mom would really like it. Then we went around the room and figured out how much money we had amongst the three of us and how many allowances we had left. Someone might have to pay more at first to make up for someone's lack of savings - ahem - It was the beginning of his financial planning career I am sure of it. Somehow we managed to save enough to get that punch bowl. I Anyway we were so excited and proud to have planned to purchase and give Mom that present. I still remember Scott taking the money and telling us under his breath that he was going to get the punch bowl. Such a secret group we were. How responsible he was to collect the money and walk down to the store on his own and purchase that punch bowl. My Mom still has the punch bowl it has been used for many family and social events - you have to admit it is kind of a Brady Bunch story except no one broke anything. It is really hard to explain how fun it was to do something together, to plan and give something to your Mom for Christmas that you could not do unless all of you worked together. Thank goodness they had the foresight to have enough of us to get that punch bowl!

What a very good idea!

Recently I had a really great idea for Kristin's office. Everyday after we empty the cat food cans into the cat food dishes each dog gets one can to clean out. Something about canned cat food that brings out the predator in every animal in our house. Those cleaned cans seem to gather in Kristin's office and well, looks a bit trashy. My great idea was to open a paper bag and collect the cans. Then leave the bag out to make it easy for Kristin to keep her office 'picked' up. She liked it - and said thanks!

A couple of nights ago Gromit had a great idea - he waited until we were asleep and started rustling those cans out of the bag. In the morning they were strewn across Kristin's office floor again. I picked them up and put them back in the bag.

The next night Gromit had a better idea - this time he got the cans out and STACKED them on the floor in Kristin's office. Not one stack but a couple of them.

Finally I thought - this is not Payday, I don't have to pick up after the winner throws the pieces all around the room. It is so hard to be a middle child and so much fun to be a Gromit!!

Gromit Sleeps

2011-11-13T18:59:00.003-06:00

I was watching Gromit sleep this morning. I love to watch him sleep. I started to wonder what it was about him that makes the whole world seem calmer to me when he sleeps. My heart rate goes down and my breathing gets deeper just watching him breath in and out, in and out. His belly rising and lowering in the same even pace. Some people get endorphins from running others eating chocolate - I think I get endorphins from watching the big white dog sleep.

I take notice of him when he sleeps. Things he doesn't have time for when he is awake. Does he have any matts, are his paw pads in good shape, do his nails need to be trimmed, how does his skin look, does he need a haircut, how are his ears...the list is endless.

For Gromit sleep seems to be a last resort. He spins himself around the house nose in the air, any cats available for moi? Any food left on the counters? Perhaps a mail carrier needs to be barked off the estate. When he is sure there is nothing left to get him into trouble he falls into a deep sleep like a kid that tries to stay awake for every possible second with visiting relatives before literally crashing to the floor in the middle of the party, exhausted and limp.

We have a series of photos of Gromit sleeping on various pieces of furniture. He can be upside down or flopped over an arm or chin on a table next to the chair, it seems to matter not for his brain. He has a new favorite chair. He coils his big lanky body into this sitting chair near the fireplace. I think he is particular to this chair because he can see out the front window while he is sleeping. It is next to the door to the piano room. This door is how the cats try to sneak back and forth from the upstairs to the downstairs - when they are being sneaky that is...

Gromit can move one joint or stretch a paw, inhale and his core rolls like an accordion to flush any extra energy out and then he sighs heavily before his whole body relaxes. It is the time I feel most like he is relaxed and trusting that the world is fine. He just lets his whole guard down. Feels like kind of an honor when he allows us to sit with him. He whimpers little high pitched yips. His feet flutter in the air sometimes fast sometimes slow.

When he is woken up from sleep by whatever wakes a Gromit - the kitchen light going on, someone walking up stairs, a car in the driveway - he first looks up with half open eyes. His long white eyelashes pointing in the direction of his half awake gaze. His hair is usually flat on one side giving him a kind of drunken doodle look.

His sleeping time is when I exercise the most self control. I am so tempted to go over and join him - pet him, put an arm around him and snuggle in next to him, give him a kiss on top of that curly white head, scratch his belly. Gromit really prefers his space though - he tolerates this at times and even likes it but usually he prefers his own space his own decision about how close to be to anyone or anything. I try to just let him sleep and enjoy watching him his belly go up and down and hearing his breath go in and out, in and out, in....and....out.

Here is the start of our Gromit sleeping album -

http://s761.photobucket.com/albums/xx251/GromitnChewie/Gromit%20Sleeps/

How about you - do you watch your dog sleep?

The Cat that Duped 2936 Ave

2011-11-02T22:59:00.004-05:00

Cats own their lives. And...they seem to also own the lives of the people who shelter and feed them. Case in point - Sasquatch - affectionately known as Squash. He is our 1and1/2 year old Maine Coon kitty. He came into our lives at 8 months old and was everything we hoped to find in a cat - able to hang out with dogs and other cats and a good hunter. We had no idea how much he would bring us.

He is black and white and has silky long hair - the kind you can sink your hand into and lose before you find a back to scratch.

He has the longest whiskers of any cat I have ever met. His confidence and imagination seem to stretch the entire length of his body nose to tail. A piece of paper crumpled up is just as exciting to him as the little red squirrel or birds flying from the house to the Juniper tree in the fountain. He is not bothered by the dogs and I think he sometimes fancies himself a part of their pack. He sits for their breakfast and dinner. We usually place a bit on the floor in a hurry because if we are too slow he sticks his face right in the dog dish. Thank goodness we have good stays with those two doodle dogs.

He entertained a house full of kids after they had much too much sugar during the holiday cookie decorating party last winter. He ran around the house with the kids he was chasing a dancing fake mouse on a string on a pole held by one of the children. Gromit and Chewie were absolutely exhausted from having to try to stay out of the way.

Gromit has some karma coming around with Squash's ability to not take life too seriously. He challenges Gromit's sense of party and laid backness. Daily he crouches behind doors and waits for Gromit to walk through the door. Then he leaps in the air both paws drawn and bats that big white dogs face from both sides. You might think he was a boxer disguised as a cat the way he goes after Gromit. Gromit sometimes play bows and does a little howling yawn - sometimes Gromit just shakes his head like his ears tickle from the cat paw swipe.

He has built a daily routine that involves duping the adults in this house by getting out each day. For a while we had a tally count on the dry erase board to count the number of days since we were last duped by Squash. Alas, instead we had to change to the number of times Squash got out each day. If only we understood how he does it - he is not a small cat weighing in at 17lbs. However, he sneaks by and on occasion scrambles by so fast you cannot get your hands down to catch him. Sometimes he gets out when Gromit slams the unlocked dog door open with his paw when the people don't respond fast enough to his subtle scratch. Sometimes he hides under the Ikea shelves behind the aprons and ducks out while Chewie takes his time coming in from the outside.

Once outside he has taken to gradually longer itineraries of what needs to be accomplished before he will come back in - at first it was just get under the porch and wait for the magic cheese can to appear and run back in to the house. Now however, he has moved to investigating the neighbors yard, climbing on top of the fence to the garage roof and leaping to the neighbors garage.

I am sure that the most embarrassing day was the one that Kristin and I were both outside in our Ralph Lauren pajama pants and sleeping t-shirts trying to grab him while he just ran back and forth between us just out of reach. When he was tired he just laid down in the driveway and stretched like - "come and get me for my treats." I believe he was truly mocking us that morning. Here he is after Kristin gathered him from the driveway -

When Squash gets out - Kristin feels conflicted because her day has taken an unexpected turn, Heidi feels freaked out, Paul feels nervous and excited. I don't think Squash is taking our feelings into consideration with this duping behavior.

Squash adds an interesting element to our house. He keeps us all on our toes and besides duping the people he also entertains us all. He is his own cat and while he doesn't share his catnip or cat food or litter box - he does share his imagination and sense of playfulness with us.

Gromit's Personal Goal

2011-10-02T16:04:00.003-05:00

Gromit and Chewie are brothers but not biological siblings. They look somewhat alike except for that thing where one is white and the other one is black. They are somewhat alike - they both enjoy food, a good romp at the park, and alerting the household that they have successfully chased the mailman each day. They are both very aware of their environment and what changes second by second. A misplaced magazine or pen will get a sniff or nose poke and will be noticed almost immediately. On the other hand - Chewie has a drive for retrieving that rivals most purebred labs. Gromit has a pension for fun and the sport of a good game of keep away and is easily diverted or distracted.

My sister and I are biological siblings have many things in common. Characteristically we both have blondish hair, pink skin, are about the same height and have the same cheekbones of my mother. We share mannerisms and expressions. We laugh at the same things, sometimes talk in unison, and feel a sense of responsibility to our families, employers and community, although the order of importance of these things gets mixed up sometimes.

However, my sister Lisa is a runner - a true runner, a real athlete. So when you look at us together she might seem quite a bit thinner and finer boned, ahem - the speed and drive in her stride is much stronger and driven than my casual approach to trying to stay healthy. Kind of like the difference between watching a graceful doe and a clomping moose running in the woods - both can run - one is an animal of beauty and the other....well it can clumsily destroy things in its path and let's just say, when it takes off, can make everyone a bit scared. I am the moose - Lisa is the doe.

I remember the winter day I started running as an adult. I was considering doing a triathlon. I had been swimming and knew I loved biking but running meant I had to actually feel my whole body with every footstep. I was terrified. If I was going to achieve my goal though, I would have to run.

I decided that I would start with trying to make it from my house to the end of the block and then walk a bit. Night time would be best as I didn't want everyone to see the mortified look on my face when I realized how much work it was going to be lift one foot up after the other one was safely on the pavement from the first stride. I hoped that I would make forward progress with each stride but would not worry about the time to get to the end of the block - just success that I was getting closer with each step. In early winter, at about 7 at night, I put on some old sweats and my tennis shoes and snuck out the back door of the duplex and around the front of the house to the sidewalk by the street. Then I stood there dumbfounded watching my breath in the cold November air. Now what? I took a deep breath, which instead of relaxing me, was more like a big gulp of air before trying to see how far across the pool you could get on a single breath. After what seemed like forever I picked up my foot and finally I jogged to the end of the block. I did it and thought hell, why not try the next block.

It wasn't pretty - I wondered why my hands were swinging back and forth, before realizing I had elbows and shoulders that controlled them. In those first runs I remember how my shoulder moved forward first and my hips and feet kind of came along for the ride. I remember being incredibly surprised when I found out about stretching and in particular what a big and long muscles it was that ran from my butt to my knees - hamstrings, gluteus - really quite amazing.

I was hooked I needed a goal - doesn't everyone?

There was a big race in the Quad Cities that was seven miles and occurred as part of the Bix Beiderbeck festival. Bix was a young jazz cornetist who had a genius for melody and jazz. Davenport, IA celebrates the very short life of Bix and his contribution to jazz with a big Dixie Land Jazz Festival accompanied by a large 7 mile run/walk race. I talked Lisa into doing this with me. It was before she started 'really' running.

Lisa and I agreed it would be a fun goal to train and run together. The biggest benefit would be that we would get to visit my parents. The race had about 20,000 participants and the line up was very long. As we stood waiting for the start gun to go off, the clouds above us let go with a big downpour. Lisa started laughing and looked at me and said that she couldn't believe we had trained all spring and most of summer and driven 8 hours to run 7 miles in a downpour. I laughed too, what else could we do. When the gun went off it took us about 10 minutes to get to the start line. The rain was off and on and it was wet the whole run. There were so many people that the sweat and water made us slide against each other if you bumped someone Still there were bands along the course playing music and people out to cheer us on. We finished in the hot steamy soggy weather of a Quad City late July. Lisa has gone on to run multiple marathons and qualify for the Boston Marathon and completed ultra runs on the West Coast with teams of strong runners. I did complete triathlons after the Bix run with her. I guess we both achieved personal goals.

I tried talking Gromit into trialing with me in Agility, or race/train running with me or maybe trick training. It would be fun to set a goal together....He loves any activity really, but he prefers to train using a methodology I haven't seen practiced in classes yet. It occurs to me that there might be some type of interval training considered for dogs like Gromit. He is enthusiastic and focused for limited sprints of time. Maybe an intense 5 minutes and then 3 minutes of craziness before jumping back in. Agility might include 3 jumps, a set of weave poles and then they could throw in a squirrel racing across the floor to get everyone worked up for a few minutes. A tunnel to table to A frame and maybe a steak buried under the dog walk. Gromit would love the element of surprise - he doesn't need to know there is a steak under the dog walk just the idea that there is something else that can be uncovered cleverly is what motivates him. I can just hear him - "Hey Heidi, I got my nose working with the air flow on this course. Just say go and I will find the prize in this course....."

He is not one of the kids that would raise his hand in class because he knew the answer, he is the kid that would raise his hand with the interesting question that the teacher would not have a black and white answer.

I have tried doing more walking with him where he gets to stop and sniff instead of dragging him away from trees and praying I won't dislocate my shoulder when he sees a squirrel. It has always been interesting to me that Gromit who loves loves loves to run can get every bit as tired from a short distance walk that has a million smells.

He is exhausted after a visit to the vet or the groomer or the chiropractor even though he doesn't have to move. He doesn't just check out the specialist we are seeing he goes around the entire office sniffing every knick knack on every shelf.

Gromit is recovering from his third injury either caused or exacerbated by agility. First his back leg, then his elbow and now his ankle. And some days I have to admit I feel like I look at him like my sister and I at the start line of the Bix. Is it pouring injuries and inattention? Have we done all this training and come all this way for a bunch of set backs? I forget to laugh though, I forget about the fun of training together. I may have lost sight of a goal. Trailing is not our goal. I am not sure how to figure out Gromit's goal - it is much simpler though, I think.

He will be very happy to know that we are about to embark on a dining odyssey. In an effort to get him some increased nutrition we are going to attempt to add flavors and food types to their diet. He needs some glucosamine to help supplement his diet and strengthen his joints. He will like the daily food surprises, this will entertain him.

So what is Gromit's goal? I have asked many specialists for advice but I think this one is between the two of us. He just wants to feel good, have fun and have some focus. I don't think the front window is really cutting it for him. He wants more puzzles in his life, less routine, and more happy surprises. Bursts of focus, that is what Gromit has and that is how I am going to work with him for a bit....

The Many Flavors of Humble Pie

2011-06-05T20:45:00.002-05:00

I believe that I have blogged about the concept of instant karma. I do not know what I did in my last life to deserve the fastest acting instant karma as a gift from the universe for this life. And with this grandiose thought that mine is the fastest acting karma anyone could possibly imagine, you might understand that I do also have a few grudges against the universe for some of the parking tickets that came round within 5 minutes of the meter going red, or the year of speeding tickets - once stopped for going 60 in a 55 mph speed zone. Yes I was speeding but 5 mph over the speed limit sees so, well - the cop was in the right - and I did apologize and I believe I would say that I have eaten my share of Humble Pie in these situations.

Tonight I was feeling pretty good. After all I had run Gromit on trails for an hour in the early morning. After I got home I spent time cleaning both showers and upstairs bedrooms. I looked under the bed to make sure I had sucked up all the extra fur balls from under the bed - what was I thinking, there were shoes that I put in the closet, slippers that I also put in the closet, single socks that were likely matches for the ones atop the folding table in the laundry room, books that needed to be dusted and shelved - and I was really patting myself on the back for this work. I mean Kristin is out of town. I am taking care of our cats, our dogs, the neighbors cats, and cleaning the whole house. The universe is going to reward me. I was so good I moved the bed away from the wall to vacuum up the hair balls behind the headboard. Yep I was going to get some karmic points with the universe...and so I looked one final time under the dust cover to admire my hard work only to see....cat barf. Yep the universal reward for thinking too highly of your effort is cat barf - a little more humble pie. I moved the bed and cleaned up the cat barf all 5 spots that I could see once the bed was moved.

I finished cleaning the house and had some dinner. And knew I needed to spend some time with Chewie. He had been patient all day lazing about waiting for some attention and time away from the house. So I grabbed his leash, some clean up bags and my ipod and off we went. There was a lilt in my step as started to think about what a great pet owner I am taking Chewie for a walk. He is such a good dog and I am such a good person. The ipod started playing the Dixie Chicks version of Landslide and my hips started swaying and I was swinging my arms back and forth and realized that what I was rhythmically swinging my hands up and down - leash in one hand and.....a bag of dog doodoo in the other one - OMG - I was on the parkway, in my own neighborhood swinging dog sh*t up and down. Then I started to laugh out loud - now I realize I think I am this hip, well rounded hard working dog owner who is active, about to turn 50 and yep - I swing sh*t and laugh out loud to myself - great.

Now I can think of all kinds of metaphors for swinging your bag of poop. I decided that I might have been swinging my ego a bit - in truth I am not any more or less important or deserving of my dogs, Kristin or my family and friends then the next person. The universe has no payment system or IOU's out to me. I think I get to enjoy my work but hope that I remember to just be in the moment and not looking for what I get in return. I hope I remember not to think about what a great dog person I am for walking my dog but instead just stay in the moment and enjoy the time Chewie and I have when we are out together walking. We are just walking together and that is enough and it does not really mean anything more or less. It is not anymore sacred or less sacred than anyone else's moment. For me that is it - I am part of the sacred universe with all the other sacred sentient beings. Then it is less about instant karma or humble pie and more about compassion and connection.

The Loyal Chewie

2011-05-20T11:56:00.044-05:00

As a kid and as an adult I have always loved a quiet walk in the woods or a solo paddle on a lake. I adore trail running. Sure trail running races are fine, but I really like a quiet trail run with just myself, some music or not and my dog.

I remember one Valentine's weekend. A friend of mine managed a resort in northern Wisconsin. She asked if I could watch the resort so she could take the weekend off. I didn't have to do anything really. Just hung out and enjoyed the quiet and the woods and took care of the animals. She had a dog that was likely a springer spaniel and golden retriever mix. His name was Bailey.

Bailey was mostly red with a few white splashes on his chest and white around his nose.   He had three red spots on his nose that looked like Orion's belt in the night sky.   He had those deep brown soft eyes of a golden retriever. The ones that have eyelashes. When he walked he had a rather obvious swish in his gait.   Bailey was about the sweetest dog that ever lived.     I am not sure he even caught flies when they bugged him, he simply thumped his big swishy tail and the breeze moved them on their way. He and our cat Tiace grew up together and he was the reason she adored big dogs, I am sure of it.

During my stay at the resort, there was a beautiful clear night sky with stars that were big and bright and blended together. It was dark enough that the moon could light the gravel road enough to walk it. Bailey and I finished dinner and chores and went for a walk down the gravel road in the soft winter night. I put on some winter boots and a hat and mittens. We headed out, not too cold but you could hear my boots with each step and see our breath like steam in the air.

As we walked I heard a vehicle in the distance possibly coming down the road.   I called Bailey to my side and was readying his leash. Bailey came and we stopped to wait for what turned out to be a big truck to pass us. Then I could see the headlights. But it didn't go by us - it skidded to a stop right in front of us. It was hard to adjust my eyes and focus past the headlights. The driver side window came down and the smoke from inside the truck billowed out and wrecked the crisp clear night air. There was a huge man in the truck with a hunting hat on and a bristly unshaven face. He half mumbled and asked me if I wanted a ride. I said no thanks. Then he opened his door to get out and started walking towards me. I remember a flash of maybe he doesn't understand me so I started to say no thank you again, ..... but he was clearly drunk and I tried to assure myself that I was faster than him and I could get away.

This guy was not in my plan for the nice evening walk, that is for sure. He was a big guy, his chest almost touched his chin and as I was thinking about my next action - Bailey stood at my side, moved forward and lifted his head very intently and growled. I had never ever heard Bailey utter this sound. He growled until the man was startled into a bit of sobriety and he got back in his truck and spun out fast heading in the direction of the bar at the end of the road. I am pretty sure Bailey saved me from a hassle that night. I am not sure a man that drunk was cause for too much drama but my heart was still beating fast when we got back to the resort.

This experience pretty much changed my running and hiking strategy permanently. Even in the middle of the city I still like to have a dog with me on my runs.

I wanted a labradoodle for many reasons but with Gromit I thought I would have a great running dog. I looked at them long before they were considered popular. He was weather hardy and could tolerate both winter and summer. He was lanky and loved to run. However, he could not behave forever.   I believe I have mentioned a time or a thousand that Gromit is not prone to good natured loose leash behavior.Furthermore, he is like a soccer or basketball athlete - he loves to sprint and run in spurts. He was not mentally made for the endurance, pacing is not in his agenda. Mostly what makes Gromit the wrong choice for running with me is that he is not interested in running withe me - he prefers to run period. That is when he gets that big old Gromit smile on. Oh well.

Once again, Chewie to the surprising rescue. I have been doing agility training for about year and half now. He is excellent on his leash. He runs with me in the winter, spring and fall. He is not weather hardy for heat though. I have to stop running with him when the temp outside hits about 70.    He understands endurance and how to reserve energy.

Agility has helped him with trail running. Just this year we finally made it over the notorious grate on the trail next to the river. He avoided that five paces of the trail in winter spring and fall - remembering it when you couldn't see it through the snow or the mud - he would bark at me and run to the side to avoid touching that grate with his precious paws!. This spring - he ran right over it - after five years - he finally decided it was safe.

I have trained him a bit on his leash as well - when he sees a person coming towards us, a bike or runner, he comes to my side and makes eye contact until they are by us. At first I didn't really think he had this down - but then one day I had my head phones on and he suddenly came to my side- I looked up and there was no one in front of us. I gave him a pat and said "okay" our word for go on ahead - and he stayed there and gave me the bossy pants look - suddenly a bike passed us from behind. Aha - I gave him a treat and congratulated him on his smartness.

I thought perhaps what I witnessed was a coincidence. However, he has made a fairly consistent habit of this activity when people are in front or behind us. Most recently he has generalized this to cars when we cross bridges ... he stays at my side until there are no more to be seen.    At first I thought I shouldn't make him do this same thing for cars but then I thought - hey, this is nice if he comes to my side when there are cars - I like that. I wouldn't risk it without his leash though - but just in case he gets loose or something crazier.

Anyway - I am looking for spots for us to go run together in the wilderness where there is shade and water.   Places where he can come back to me if there is someone but does not have to worry about paying attention to me so closely. We sometimes have to mix up off and on leash paths to get a full run in.    I am very happy to be running with the Chew Bug.   Who knew he was going to be my running buddy. The best part about it is how proud he looks when he runs with me "- my Heidi, my person - I am working with Heidi - " - that is my Loyal Chewie.

What do you do with a dog like Gromit?

2011-05-15T11:14:00.000-05:00

I didn't know why at the time, but during the ride home from Gromit's Agility Class this week, I started to think about the Rowdy girl, our lab mix who passed almost 5.5 years ago.   I started to think about how she would go running with me and thought about how brave she was and how she was straight forward about things like going to the vet for acupuncture or managing life and dinner through the pack of cats that shared our house.

I don't let myself go there very often but I clearly made a choice to keep remembering her. I could remember her haunches and the heavy triple coat there. I remember the fine boned legs and small paws that made her seem like she had some terrier in her and the way you could comb your fingers in the fur in her shoulders like a shepherd's coat. She had a big lab chest that made her hips seem small. At 70lbs she was not a small dog. I thought about her sweeping curled tailed. I remembered how her coat smelled. I missed the way she insisted on having her own space but was always there with me.

Loyal loyal loyal she was - always there.

Then I vividly recalled the events of picking her up from the University of MN animal hospital after hip replacement surgery. They called us to pick her up early because she wouldn't rest. They thought she might rest better at home. As we walked out of the clinic she scrambled all her claws on that slippery tile floor and squealed at the same time. We worked to help her out the door. It was painful for her to squat for any business. We got her to the van and popped the back gate open and before we could turn around and lift her up, she leapt into the van - again crying out in pain as she did. I have rarely felt as helpless as I did that day. Really they pretty much send you on your way after surgery and there we were Kristin, Heidi and Rowdy Ann - She came home and was patient and so brave.

Her pain did not subside quickly but once she did heal she was more comfortable than we had seen ever in her life. The memory made me start to cry wondering if she ever understood or maybe if she ever questioned what was going on with her body. She was steady and calm through her recovery.

Rowdy played games with us that she made up and we played. She would trick us into going to the door to let her out and she would race back in the living room to grab something off a dinner plate. We would sometimes run together in the winter and when I got warm and took off my gloves she would grab one and run home with it in her mouth. Every once in a while she would drop it on the ground. I would pick it up and we would keep going but eventually she would come and grab it from me - it was game to see who would have it when we got to the door.    Once we did the Reindeer Run around Lake Hiawatha together. She grabbed gloves from a woman in front of us. Thank goodness that woman was a dog person. Oh, did I laugh though. We of course gave the gloves back right away.

I know what made me think of Rowdy and made me cry while I drove home from class this week. Gromit had reached his head over the head rest on the driver seat, from the back seat he nuzzled his nose gently in my ear giving me a couple of laps with his tongue - just like Rowdy used to do when she rode in the car with me.

I have been trying to sort out what to do with Gromit and agility. I worry a bit that we have come to our end and no longer making progress. We may have gone as far as we could. I had the same familiar pang grabbing at me about how to know what is right for my dog friend when Rowdy's hip dysplasia became more painful. I wondered if I was listening close enough.

I always wonder if I give Gromit as much joy as he gives me. I wondered if it matters to him that most of the time I adore him even if I show no affect. I wondered if we had given Rowdy as much as she had given us? I imagine that dogs don't see things in the same light of fairness. If they did they would never have allowed themselves to be domesticated.

I am in New Orleans this week with Kristin. And truly, does any dog say Mardi Gras more than Gromit the big white goof? He has charm and wit and intelligence and a pension for a party. Furthermore, I believe he would happily don a mask and color his coat and sprinkle it with a little fairy dust just to march in the Mardi Gras parade.

For now we will are continuing agility. Some things have come back to us after his injury last fall. Some things have sharpened in disparity. As finely as he can turn on a dime and manage steep climbs and jumps, we lose each other in the ring quickly and his tolerance for my errors seems lower. He wanders the course on his own more. Still, he loves getting his agility bag out and putting on his leash and playing with me - at least I think he does. He is enthusiastic about it all. What do you do with a dog like Gromit?

It is not time to start missing Gromit. He still joins me no matter what we are doing. I might have to up the ante with what keeps him interested.   We will see as I keep track of our progress. With practice at home can he start to hit his weave entrances again and will he slice jumps.

Spring Brings Hope Forward

2011-03-06T20:12:00.001-06:00

We are getting little hints of spring. The days are longer, the birds are starting to flit in the cedar tree in front of the house, snow melts into puddles during the day and crusts with ice over night.

Today, I went to the Eggplant Urban Farm store with a friend to participate in the Tapping of the Boulevard Maple Tree. It was surely one of those eclectic experiences where I feel like I live somewhere between hippie and yuppie.

I was meeting up with a friend at the store. This friend is getting chickens this year. Her little chicks will be arriving at the store on Thursday. I helped build her chicken coop and have emotionally supported her urban gardens and food self sustenance practices. Some folks go on the Pardade of Homes Tour, or the Home Garden Tour with a Master Gardner at every location. We went on the chicken coup tour taking notes on all the options to be considered for my friends coop - which we have affectionately named Bok Joy.

While waiting for my friend, I wandered the tiny store, reading about herbal gardens and herbal remedies. I listened to a customer and store owner discuss the issues around sick chickens and euthanisia. I tried not to listen but the stores is quaint and small and has great accoustics...ahem...and it was not an easy conversation for either the customer or the owner, alas...in an effort to distract myself I moved from the herb section to the canning section to the 'worms eat my garbage' composting section and then to the back where the chicken feed and heating lamps are located. Finally, I asked where my friend might be and whether I was missing the lecture - I was warmly escorted to the basement.

Today, the urban farm store was providing information on how to make your own maple syrup by tapping the maple tree in your yard (or boulevard). We listened to a lecture that included a power point presentation. Then we went outside to tap the tree in front of the store. There was a quick discussion on whether or not there were going to be neighborhood complaints that the boulevard tree was getting tapped and then one woman suggested saying something respectful to the tree to honor it as part of the universe. And in a second it went from hippie to yuppie as the store owner produced a cordless drill with a half inch drill bit. Like a home improvement show she had marked the tree with the spot to drill using blue tape. She marked the 2" depth on the drill for the spigot. She promptly drilled into the tree. The bucket hung on the spout. All in all it was pretty cool. Love the idea of making maple syrup in your own backyard.

The perfect time for tapping maple trees is when the temperature is above freezing during the day and below freezing at night. In Minnesota this could likely be any month but January when it is always freezing. March happens to be the perfect month for this activity. If it is time to tap the trees it is time to think about spring.

At our house, this is a messy time of year. I am struggling to make sure I can hold out for the real spring. I start to remember what it is like to work the dogs outside. With the cold, the boys have been continuing to work through their door manners. Kristin and I are working on our pack leadership skills. When I take the dogs out running I have one less layer and no face mask. The ipod can make it for the whole run instead of getting too cold to stay charged. Chewie loses his ball less often and Gromit looks like a cartoon dog on ice frosted sidewalks, slipping and sliding.

Chewie has been working very hard on his agility skills this winter. In our last class, the instructor mentioned that if I ever get the trial bug Chewie is ready. Ahhh - spring brings hope forward - my little osha dog might make a new breakthrough for our budding partnership - LOL!

Who's Minding the Manners

2011-01-19T22:20:00.000-06:00

Well - our animal family has undergone many changes over the last 6 months. We lost two very dear souls to the rainbow bridge. We had a sudden influx of mice - in our house?! Whether or not that was Schmadios and Tiace nudging us on to our next animal adventure I will never know. If so, I have to say it worked. We now have two new cats - Squash and Mango.

In the mean time, Chewie and Gromit have done some adjusting. Our neighbor from Greece baked holiday treats and stopped at another neighbors house to get support and join her in delivering them to our house because she was afraid of the dogs. We started thinking that perhaps we needed to work on the door manners with our boys. There were other more serious reasons but we decided to call a trainer we had become acquainted with from animal communication to help us work with Chewie and Gromit on manners and ... ahem...self-control.

So it all started out pretty innocently. Marilyn arrived at our house and witnessed the bowl 'em over with happiness greeting from Chewie and Gromit. Then we talked about our goals. I demonstrated how they would do anything for a treat. She helped remind us of shaping behaviors and how to use a clicker. Kristin listened with a training focus I had never seen in her before. We started working on developing a relationship change in an effort to remind the boys that we are not just room mates - we deserve a little more respect than that - LOL!

On the second visit Marilyn dropped off a machine called the Manner's Minder. She told us to watch the DVD and get some batteries so it would actually work. Now in my mind I am thinking - "bravo Marilyn "- I have a techno geek girlfriend and if you want her to focus on training a new gadget is exactly the ticket. I realize now this might have been a bit of a projection. After all, I was the one that watched the DVD and nagged Kristin to get the batteries for three weeks.

The Manners Minder is an electronic treat dispenser. It drops treats into a dish using a remote control. The idea is that we would train the boys to stay on a matt/bed/rug while guests enter the house. The reinforcement for this would be treats dispensed remotely so we did not have to be in the same place as the dogs. http://store.clickertraining.com/mannersminder.html

If you know Chewie at all you know he is the safety inspector in the house. He saw that big plastic turtle sitting on the floor and walked around it for a couple of days. When we turned it on the first time he jumped backwards. However, once he realized that food was dropping into that bowl, nothing, not even a beep or grind of gears would give him pause. He was all about that treat dispenser. "Hmm - if I lie down on this matt magically treats dispense - Gromit has talked to me about the magic french fry window, I know about the endless bag of Bugles, but this deal is too good to be true, if I lay here and look happy, give Heidi a little eye contact, i get treats? - yee haw"

While we had a session to train Chewie, Gromit was placed calmly upstairs where he proceeded to yip dramatically until we were done with the exercise and let him our from the entrapment of the upstairs. The Manners Minder was placed on the fireplace mantel behind the rocking chair and atop the book shelves. It is a corner and behind the rocking chair is a bean bag chair.

For dinner that evening we had Roasted Potatoes with Fresh Rosemary and Crunchy Kasha Burgers. Chef Kristin made dinner and I did the dishes. I was careful to insure all the dishes were done and food put away.

As I lay in bed that evening, reading my iPad and chatting with Kristin about the day, we heard Gromit trot down the stairs to the main floor. I proudly said to Kristin there was nothing left out and he would be back up in a minute. We laughed and waited. Kristin asked me if I was sure as heard him rooting around and shuffling about...finally she asked me if I would just go down and see what he was up to... I went to the bottom of the stairs and realized that the sound was not coming from the kitchen - I walked around to the living room and there behind the rocking chair, head leaning over the bean bag chair and nosing the Manners Minder was Gromit. He was not on his matt, the treats were not being dispensed automagically, he missed the special time with three people working with one dog and yet still, I'll be doggone if he didn't get himself that whole Manners Minder machine quietly down off the mantel, dropped onto the bean bag chair and have himself a little of whatever the heck Chewie was getting. Who needs a remote...when it comes to Gromit who is minding the manners will never be in question - it will be the answer.

Leaving Empty Spaces

2010-10-12T22:39:00.001-05:00

I watched Schmadios as her Mom - goop and all, pushed her into the world. She and her brother Grover were the only two kittens in the litter. When Schmadios joined us on this side of the womb I remember as Heide G took care to help the momma cat - Sunberry get everyone cleaned and breathing, Sid looked down and announced "that's it there are no more, adios schmadios and that's your name. "

Six months later I spent the night at Sid and Heide's place. She was destined to be my cat, just waiting until I had a place where I could take her. Schamdios had gotten into a bag of cotton balls with her mom and the other cats in the house. Schmadios ingested a few. That night she slept at my pillow. Sweet girl that she was - and all night long, she would patiently earp up a cotton ball next to my ear every hour or so. OMG! Never in distress, she would just sputter a bit until I was awake enough to take a look and then she would plop out a cotton ball - how that tiny mouth could get that from her gut to my pillow is beyond me - but it was all quite neat. And that is how Schmadios was in her life.

She never needed much and got along just fine. She loved a lap, a soft pillow, the sunshine or a warm radiator. She never had health concern her whole life - which I can remember anyway. She was a prolific producer of hairballs. She was friendly to everyone but belonged to no one. She lived with many cats and dogs and traveled well. She was fine with everyone but did prefer that the doodles would practice some better manners.

Schmadios would often chatter at me when I came home from work. When I called her, no matter where I was, she would wake up, squeak and coming trotting to me - not meandering, she came running. How could you ask for more from cat? My favorite thing to do with Schmadios was to pick her up and she would snuggle into and brush her head against my hair and then lay her head on my shoulder and purr. She would let me cradle her on her back like a baby and rub her tummy.

She was not afraid of the dogs and traveled through them and with them and by them. She slept close to them and close to us, sometimes between us. Gromit had finally stopped looking for Tiace. Yesterday we came home from the final vet visit without Schmdios and he sniffed the empty crate and then ran upstairs immediately looking for Schmadios.

I took him to the dog park and when we came home he ran upstairs again. Ugh - a lump in my throat just thinking about it - As we went to bed last night he just laid and moped at the top of the stairs in front of the cat room, door open for the first time since we have lived in this house. The room cleaned and contents removed - no litter box, or cat food, or scoop, or scattered litter for that matter. I sat on the floor in the bedroom, looked at Gromit, and he came in with me and plopped down and laid his head on my lap and sighed. I don't know if it is projection - I know I am sad. It was much much too soon to lose Schmadios. I just never thought we would lose her and certainly not so soon after Tiace.

Gromit and Schmadios shared an interesting respect for each other. They both shared a need for space and did not like too much attention - adoration was okay in small doses. True for the both of them. They would sleep together in the guest room in the sun - that was good for them - that was their time together. They didn't need to fill empty spaces; it was enough to share the time together.

Chewie: Renaissance Labradoodle

2010-09-27T23:13:00.002-05:00

Chewie has had quite an event filled week.

Gromit came to his agility class to show him how to use the teeter
Gromit got groomed and Chewie got to go to the dog park instead
Heidi was called to come and retrieve Gromit at the salon and Chewie decided to ride shot gun in the limo. Once Gromit was escorted to the car they were chauffered to the dog park - the 2nd trip of the day for Mr. Bugtussle
He got bones and a kong in the same day
He successfully shook with his "other" paw

But the topper to it all? He paid his $15 fee, got his picture taken, showed off his rabies vaccination tag at the gate and took the time trip back to the Renaissance Festival with Heidi and Kristin.

I have to say, I thought we might have a good time with Chewie but I had no idea. Even as we were registering people were asking us all about him. When we walked through the gates I can only imagine what sensation there was for him - Turkey legs, pork chops, salted nut roles, horses, goats, fast moving tortoises , sheep, patchouli, sandalwood, sage, smoked jerky, perfume, pottery, dried flowers, herbas, and lots of leather - leather mugs, leather vests, leather boots, leather hair ties -- phew - Chewie was dizzy with scent overload.

First stop for us? A wood craftsman who made board games - cribbage, nine mens morris, and the like - and for Chewie - a dish of water and dog treats. That is how it was everywhere - a whole group of performers stopped to pet him. We did not go more than 5 minutes without someone addressing Chewie - children, adults, men in tights, women in bone laced girdle strewn long heavy dresses with lacey hair coverings and faces painted, people with wine blushed faces and men with braided beards and pony tails. Dangles from everyone - men, women, children -everyone had jewelry.

Early on Chewie was absolutely enamored with the lid less open trash bags - everywhere! We had one early scare when Chewie's nose was faster than our shoulder and he lunged under a bench for an entire turkey bones and cartilage. One poor women was absolutely disgusted as I pried his jaws open and pulled the bones from way inside his gullet - like a sword swallower - I think they were long enough to touch his stomach - ugh! After that every bench was a potential treasure chest so one of us had to keep our eyes on the ground at all times - a different view of the festival.

Chewie must look exotic with his long dread lock doodle curls - people asked us if he was a bouvier at least 5 times. Very interesting connection.

He greeted toddlers with sticky hands, people with canes and wheelchairs, fairies that wanted to dash him with pixie dust - they asked us three times?! -

....

and then there was the Renaissance Man.

Now I have tried desperately to read dog body language and communicate with my dogs for the last 4.5 years - but this guy, he is a barker - yelling about his wares - at shoppers - quippy huzzahs and corny jokes all with a bit of baudiness - inviting people in to his shop - this guy looks at Chewie and smiles and literally barks at Chewie - 'WOOF" - LOL! Cute, and it got the attention of people - but what happened next was hysterical - Chewie turned and gave eye contact and barked back - and from there they had a conversation and I believe Chewie had the last rapid fire woof woof wooooooof, nose and snout happily leaning up to the sky - then he shook himself and trotted up to this very tall man and sniffed and smiled and allowed himself a few scratches from this kind man.

Not sure the sun could make the day as happy as it made me to watch Chewie as the ambassador of goodness for Bugtussle and the Labradoodles. Perhaps next year he will need to wear something with dangles or at least some leather - maybe something other than his twins collar - maybe a little patchouli...

Finally - Chewie met the piglet at the petting area - a new experience for him - he was reinventing himself during the festival - he was his own Renaissance Labradoodle! Huzzah

Getting Back to Myself

2010-09-07T21:17:00.001-05:00

I just celebrated my 49th birthday. I find birthdays incredibly humbling. By the time my Mom was my age I remember being so proud of her, I mean she could still vacuum and move furniture and stuff - like, wow, she was old and strong! Now I understand her true strength was in her patience and tolerance and endless teaching just by being herself. I mean really - what was I thinking? Thank you Mom for allowing me to live past my 20's. Phew!

So the joke was kind of on me - I spent my birthday in the north woods of Minnesota - the Arrowhead, the Iron Range, the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area - Ely, MN. I was with friends. One of our friends has two boys. They are 10 and 15. All weekend their Mom kept having them move so I could have a comfortable chair. Boy, I bet they were surprised when I got in a canoe and could actually paddle and stuff - I mean I was old and active - Ha!

I had a wonderful birthday and am grateful of the people in my life - Kristin, my parents, friends, family, even the people who come and go around me - those that tell me to have a good day or open a door and smile at me, let me merge onto the freeway in the middle of rush hour - Kristin, my friends and family - those that help me celebrate my birthday, they are the ones that help me see the world this way, spend my energy honoring and celebrating and laughing.

Gromit and Chewie paced the house as I wrote this - they are a bit on the bored side tonight - Chewie wagged his tail and barked at me from the darkness of the dining room - Gromit wandered the first floor and checked every window on the first floor awaiting something, anything that might need a good warning bark - both of them with nails too long clicked over the floor. Kristin let them out to sniff their yard. I hid some treats while they did a sit and stay - it only lasts about 5 minutes but it is the longest stay I get out of those boys.

They are part of my celebration too - they make me laugh every day. I never plan it but they manage to find a way to make me smile. I try to find a way to make sure each tail wags a few times every day.

This year - I plan to spend more time focusing on getting back to the part of me that connects with compassion and remember that a good belly scratch usually gets a tail wag, giving a smile usually gets a smile, and giving up a comfortable chair may mean giving someone else comfort - not because they are fragile, but because it is a way to care about them to share what you find comforting.

Intentional Training Sideswiped by Solicitor

2010-08-21T12:52:00.011-05:00

Here are the three things that remain prevalent in my training habits since starting Agility Training: 1. Set up for success 2. Reward, reward, reward 3. Have a plan

Yes, well recently Gromit and I have suffered a series of not so serious set backs in our training for agility. He started showing some discomfort during class and I took him to a chiropractor for a bit. Just when we were heading into maintenance mode and I stopped scheduling appointments we hit a snafu. During our last appointment the chiropractor demonstrated Gromit's slight resistance to an adjustment in his rear right leg. Inside I was thinking - that poor guys is resistant to most touch I am shocked that he ever let you adjust him - sweet but touchy boy that he is...but when I watched I could not deny the fact that yes in fact he was more resistant to having his right leg adjusted than his left. Then she suggested that I have him assessed for hip dysplasia. We discussed how immediate the need might be and between the two of us, based on his current activity level we could wait until our next regular check up at the vet.

I left the office and could hardly drive home. My brain was spinning trying to think about Gromit and how I had seen his gait and strength over the years - he didn't seem like a dypslastic dog to me. I was stunned at the thought of Gromit with HD.

The ever sensitive Gromit stood over my shoulder breathing in my ear until I put the car into drive and took off, then he sighed and leaned into the back seat.

We had missed some classes over the summer and decided to do a make up agility class on an unusual night with a different class. I will always laugh remembering this class because there were only two other dogs in class that night - one was a Westie and one was a little wiry coated terrier - both dogs jumped 8" and both dogs had names that were used by many parents to name their children. Gromit, jumps 24" and was named after a claymation character. I guess that gives you an idea of how uncompact and not so tidy we are on the course.

When the other dogs finished the course and I brought Gromit to the start line, the gentlemen with the Westie said - "boy he is big." I remember laughing and saying something like "oh, my gosh, now that you mention it, he is kind of big."

Anyway, we ran the course but there were about six tunnels on this course. Tunnels are very difficult for Gromit but he tried enthusiastically to get through all the tunnels and over all the obstacles. He did a nice first round of the course. Then we did it again and for some reason he just pulled up and stopped on his way into a tunnel. I have this success thing in my head and I am sure he can do the tunnel so I encourage him by going back to the last jump and moving him over it and into the tunnel - again he pulls up short of the tunnel. He started to look away and then worse yet he slowly wandered away. I clapped my hands and called him back and used my voice to encourage and push him in the direction of the tunnel - finally he went in. When he came out we finished the course. I took him outside to give him a break. I thought his brain was tired or my treats were not good enough to get work out of him.

As we walked around in the parking lot outside of the school I could hear him dragging his nails on the ground. I look more closely and he was dragging his foot, his rear right foot and hobbling on it. How could I have missed this? I felt his thigh and it was swollen and warm to the touch.

Needless to say that was our last agility class for awhile. I took him home and iced his leg. I took him to the vet and she looked over both his hips and moved them in several directions. She too demonstrated the difference in the range of motion and I could see him visibly try to tolerate and then finally flinch as she checked the flexibilty in his right back hip joint. Finally she said she too suspected the HD and xrays were going to give us our best shot at determining the severity. I decided if this was her recommendation I wanted someone who knew athletic dogs and could help determine if we were done or if there was some in between - which I am leaning towards. So I called around and scheduled an appointment for Gromit with a vet that specializes in orthopedic medicine. When we arrived for our appointment, the vet was unavailable becuase he had broken his own bone in his foot. We are waiting until the end of the month.

In the mean time I have been doing different things with Gromit. I decided to train him on putting his toys into a box. Our dog yard is currently under construction so I pulled a box out to the front yard. It was Wed night at the Longfellow and a live band was playing. I figured we could do attention training if we needed to do that instead. There was a ton of foot traffic in the house. Gromit though, was fine with the toy box and the toys and the clicker training. He stayed with me while we tried to back chain the skills. I sat on the grass and gave him his toy, clicked and fed him cheese.

As we were working one guy walked up on the side walk and started talking to me. He had a tie and white shirt on and was overly pleasant. He told me he was from the south and that was why he talked so funny. Then he told me our neighborhood was like a salad - old people and young people. He mentioned several times that I had probably never come across someone like him. He was right but I doubt it was for the reason he was thinking.

Now anyone who has met Gromit knows that a stranger talking to me from the sidewalk might make Gromit go, well how can I best put this...ballistic?! I wasn't really interested in small talk. He asked me if Gromit was a GoldenDoodle - he isn't but I wanted this guy to keep moving so I said yes and hoped I hadn't offended either the Labradoodle or the Goldendoodle folks.

The whole time Gromit and I are looking, looking at each other, clicking and treating and I am praying that he doesn't stand up at lunge in the guys direction. I yell out that he might start barking and the guy yells back at me that he is not afraid of dogs. Yeah - well...everyone says that until Gromit stands on his back legs and is looking eye to eye with them. But I am not interested in anyone being afraid of him so I do my darnest to not put us in this situation.

The one thing I am pretty sure of is that Gromit would never intentionally hurt anyone, bark loud - sure, lunge - yep but if I let go of the leash he would run and sniff or at the most he would bark and then run behind me.

So while I am assessing the situation and trying to keep paying attention to Gromit because after all that is what I am asking him to do with me....the guy walks up on the driveway to shake my hand. I click and treat Gromit and warn the guy away telling him Gromit will bark. I try Gromit's technique and turn my head away without growling. The guy keeps trying to charm me. Finally, I tell him that is nice to talk with him but I am not going to give him any money. He wants to know why, after all as he sees it he is a handsome guy and I had not really heard enough about the program. He shows his sales pages where someone hand wrote in the feedback section that he was "gorgeous." I notice that at the top of each of his sheets are the five positive characteristics to possess to increase sales - numbered and typed...he has hand numbered an additional quality - #6 Handsome. He started up and then I said we were on a budget and he said he understood. He smiled and left.

Gromit and I were exhausted. That was the most intensive training either of us had done in a long time. I was working on not reacting and Gromit was working on....not reacting. Interesting combination - so much for the plan. We tried to get the toys into the toy box but alas, our best intentions were side swiped by magazine salesman who gave us an unexpected training session.

Getting the Doodle Groove on - The Hippie Gromit

2010-08-17T20:43:00.003-05:00

Gromit is a mess right now - his coat has grown out from his last appointment at the poodle spa. He is starting to get that dread lock matting of a doodle coat look. He has started to roll in the grass more and ask for face scratches more. All signs that he needs a bath and a cut. He doesn't care though - he looks so darned cute when his fur is this long, you can barely see his eye.

I was reading an excerpt from Through a Dog's Eyes by Jennifer Arnold, that was posted on the Doodle Forum. The excerpt was the author's opinion on whether or not dogs experience emotions. She quoted Patricia McConnell and gave the usual, you can't ask a dog so how can you know and what does science tell us and finally a tear jerking story about her dog...song and dance? I don't mince words here on my blog -I believe Gromit has emotions. I am also pretty sure that my ideas of what he experiences are not always likely what he experiences but they are my own projection of what I think it might be like to be him. I have no true idea at all and I keep trying to tune in - who knows....but you would be hard pressed to tell me he doesn't experience emotions - joy, excitement, adoration, humor and sometimes morose boredom...

So recently we lost our dear sweet Tiace. She was a 21 year old tabby cat. She was white and black and gold and had fur that was as soft as a rabbit. She was fond of big dogs and she was great pals with a horse who died many years before Tiace. As a kitten, she was found sleeping on the back of this horse and lived in the barn with the horse for at least a year.

She was photographed sleeping with our dogs, curled up in their leg pit, pushed against a belly on the bed soaking in the sunshine from the windows.

Later in her life she supported Kristin's work at home effort by hanging out on her desk all day while she worked. As she aged Kristin bought her a heating pad for her to sleep on to ease her joints and keep her comfortable. She hunted Kristin's lunch every day and had a penchant for tortilla chips. Hard to describe her little tiny mouth crunching a big tortilla chip. She would close her eyes and concentrate as she crunched through the chip.

Gromit was always very gentle with Tiace. I cannot imagine the control it took for him - he is such a big floppy dog but he can be very accurate with the nuzzling nose. He would nuzzle and breath into Tiace's little orange ears and lap the top of her head ever so gently with his tongue and sometimes give her a little dog hello, nudging her in her back end. Always easy and slow and soft and ever aware of her growing joint pain and need to have space to get around.

As Tiace started to fail Gromit would trail her places and kept track of her. One time we thought she was gone and he ran downstairs and pointed her out to us, she was in the shower on the 1st floor resting. She never went to the first floor. Then there was the day she somehow drifted into the upstairs water closet - behind the toilet. Another place we rarely if ever would see her. Again, he spotted her and helped us keep track of her.

When we took her to the vet the last time and he greeted us at the door tail wagging and sniffing endlessly - my pants, the empty cat crate, Kristin and then he ran upstairs. We called him back down. Now I am sure there are many reasons he sniffed my pants - not the least the fact that there were probably many great smells on my clothes from the clinic. The fact that he sniffed me and then sniffed Kristin and then the crate and then ran upstairs though - that was hard.

As the next couple of days passed, Gromit and I would go to the park or for a walk. Each time we came home he scrambled in the door and raced upstairs. I couldn't figure this out. In the past when animals I had went to the rainbow bridge it seemed they spoke amongst themselves and had things worked out. This was different though. If someone asked me I would have had to say Gromit was confused and looking for Tiace. Eventually we contacted an animal communicator.

When I asked about Tiace and how she was doing I almost felt bad bothering her little soul, the animal communicator described finding her in a state that she could only describe as like a euphoria. Since we had bothered her already we asked if she and Gromit had talked since she moved on and did Gromit know she was on the other side. The animal commuicator helped interpret that Tiace had neglected to tell Gromit that she was moving on and then said the most amazing thing. She said Tiace had given Gromit a job to find her body for us if she passed while we were away or sleeping. Then the animal communicator started to ask if Tiace wanted help explaining things to Gromit but as she was asking Tiace, that little Tiace got down in Gromit's face and explained that she had moved on and thanked him for taking such good care to protect her and then leaned over and gave him a kiss on his head - just like Gromit had done to Tiace for the 4.5 years they lived together. There must have been a heck of a light shining between the two of them in that second. I found this incredibly heartwarming and sweet. I truly think Tiace and Gromit had some genuine respect and kindness for each other - I am not sure exactly what it means.

Today at the dog park a woman was talking to Gromit and called him a boy and then questioned herself out loud about his gender and I laughed and looked up and said "we call him our metrosexual dog" it doesn't really matter to him what his gender is I don't think. She laughed, but I have to say I don't think it does matter to Gromit - Chewie, definitely, all boy/man dog he would care. Gromit however, is his own groovy dog - he makes up his own fun, enjoys a smile, and lives his life much more sensitively than anyone would likely give him credit for being. He notices the finest detail and change in climate at the house and is only intrusive with his alarming bark. He was friends with the cat who was friends with the horse. He is my easy going flower dog - my hippie Gromit!

The Game of Chase

2010-07-09T20:56:00.010-05:00

I was thinking about the game of chase. Gromit adores the game. At the dog park, he loves the herding dogs that crouch on the ground in wait for him. When he sees them, he slows his gait and grins. As we get close he starts a slight prance, like those big Budweisser Draft Horses. Then he puts his nose in the air and looks at the crouching dog from the corner of his eye head turned away, shoulders rounded, paws stretched out away from the other dog. If this doesn't work he play bows and barks and turns his hips at the other dog. If the other dog starts to get up, Gromit hops forward. If the other dog is really interested he takes off hoping for a good game of chase. He is happy to chase another dog as well. He is a bit of a tail grabber though and has to sort out the rules when he chases another dog. He really likes a smart dog, one that can keep up with him and turns to nose him just as he catches him, or one that darts in a new direction before they collide.

Sometimes when Gromit runs and he stretches his front feet out so far, I swear he is pulling the earth underneath his chest and doubling the ground he covers. He runs in circles and dodges within inches of obstacles and in the game of chase, all people are just obstacles. He jumps over trees and cracks through underbrush all the time his feather white tail flashing above the brush line making him an easy sighting if not an easy catch.

I played a rousing game of chase once in Antarctica. It was when we moved the fuel tanks off the ice runway over to the Ross Ice Shelf to the groomed snow runway. Early in the season, planes land on the ice runway. The big planes with heavy cargo can land there during winfly and shortly before the sun comes back in full force. Huge C5s carrying helicopters and small equipment the ones that make the strong and versatile Herc's look small landed on the ice. You can land on wheels on the ice runway but in the snow you have to use ski's to land and the Herc's were used for this.

In order to move the temporary fuel tanks you have to empty the fuel from hose that ran between the tank farm down to the smaller containment tanks on the ice. The tank farm was high up on the hills and it took a couple of miles of hose to get to the ice runway. When you stand on the ice runway and look past the planes you can see Black Island and the Royal Society Mountain Range. If you turn clockwise 90 degrees - you will be facing towards the open water but looking as far as you can you wouldn't see open water. Again clockwise to 6 o'clock and you can see McMurdo a mile or two back from the runway - Scott's hut just a small dot. McMurdo reminded me of a tiny mining town, everything was a bit temporary. The gravel was black against the snow and the sky was blue like a periwinkle, not that pale white blue. It made the smoke from Mount Erebus look white. Around the edge of the Ross Island was the Ross Ice Shelf.

So - the game of chase in Antarcitca- involved removing the fuel from the hose so we could pick it up and move the runway to the summer location. The process to remove the fuel was called "pigging the line." I suppose part of the excitement was the danger, although I didn't think of it exactly like that. Here is how it worked - there is a large rubber plug that gets place in the end of the fuel line closest to the runway. Then air pressure is used to push the pig and the fuel in front of the pig back into the tanks.

There were 2-3 miles of hose full of fuel and it was an all hands on activity. Someone stood at the end closest to the fuel farm tank where the fuel was being pushed and where the pig catcher was connected into the line. Someone else stood at the air compressor, loading and sending the pig off. Then they monitored the pressure the entire time. As that pig sped the hose there were different people watching the line and checking for weight. We all had radios and listened intently. The radio was turned up and air pressure was reported almost constantly.

As the pig moved along it had to move through bumps and valleys in the snow and the aluminum connections of the hose. Sometimes it would get stuck, the pig, and you would know because the air pressure would go up. We needed to track that pig in case we needed to stop the pig. If the pressure got too high, well - all heck may break loose and before that happened we needed to secure the fuel and contain the hose not emptied. My job, was to ride and chase the pig all the way down the line with my boss driving the snowmobile and myself clinging on to the his jacket, my hood flying in the wind as we kept track of the high pressured speedy pig. As the folks at the air compressor started to see pressure go up their voices would get more anxious and pressure got reported more often. Phil, my boss and I would have to quickly find where it was stuck. Looking and lifting the hose trying to determine where it changed from light air filled hose to heavy fuel filled hose. That is exactly where you would find the stuck pig. The line could explode if too much pressure built up. And that would have been an international disaster not to mention extremely dangerous. We were reminded of this several times as we walked through the instructions with the foreman and the crew. So Phil and I were very careful about moving that hose, not wanting anything to start flying or blow up! Boy were we fast with the throttle too - once that pig took off, so did we - yeehaw

But the joy of trying to stay caught up with the pig and listen to the radio and whip around on a snow mobile past pregnant elephant seals under a sunny blue sky and a puffy cloud from Mount Erebus...well it was completely invigorating and the closest piece of excitement I can think to compare to Gromit's joy and grace when I think of us both running a good game of chase.

Only the Labradoodle knows for sure....

2010-06-12T21:09:00.006-05:00

Chewie has taken to asking for my attention with the prettiest sit I have ever seen and the most earnest eye contact I have ever experienced from someone not doing therapy with me. I am not sure exactly how to explain the look in his eye - it is so intent and soft that it almost makes me cry - and instead I just find a good reason to use his name so I can hear him thunk his tail on the floor. Then I give him a treat. Hmmm....do you think he is so on to me - I believe he has mastered the art of people training.

Gromit is a little less subtle in just about everything he does with the exception of one key difference - Gromit is a planner - he is not exactly into charming or scamming, but he does plan without assistance. I would liken his moves to the timing of a clever and charming thief/hero - Robin Hood comes to mind - perhaps instead of an agility title he will earn his own comic book - or as they say today - graphic novel - "Who knows where the White Labradoodle will forage for his neighborhood pack next week? Will he save the little shitzu on the corner from eating only dry kibble? Will he scavenge cans of cat food for the weight lifting Rotweiler that runs the alleys in the morning?" Find out next week for 89 cents only available at Shinders -

Just this morning, while having a guest over for scones and coffee he sat in the living room while my friend and I sat on the screened porch enjoying the water feature and coffee. My friend and I sat nibbling on scones and chatting. Chewie came over and hung his chin on the arm of my chair and stared into my scone - hypnotizing it to his tongues. Alas, when he got no action he settled in for a light nap listening for the sound of the plate dropping back to the table. He would happily lick the crumbs if that was all he could get he has no pride when it comes to food.

Now Gromit was in the living room at this time. He enjoyed viewing his own personal large screen movie of the Longfellow Grill's customers on a Sunday morning. He sits in the Lazy Boy with his front legs crossed over the arm and watches out the picture window. The parking becomes scarce at brunch time and we get a lot of folks on parking on our street giving Gromit endless and steady entertainment. Thrown into the mix is a neighbor walking their dog and that gets him up and out of his chair and the adrenaline junkie in him comes out with ferocity.

Here is the thing - you would think Gromit had forgotten that we were in the house, that scones may be available and that Chewie could be getting something that he was missing. Nope, he was waiting us out and flying under the radar. When we moved from the porch to the living room Christine handed me the plate of scones and I put them on the counter. As I sat down in "Gromit's" chair he lazily walked over and gave me his head for a good ear scratch and then loosely turned his back end to me for a nice back end scratch. He does this and my friend and I get involved in conversation and before I know it he is gone and I don't notice. I realize he is not in the room and try not to be rude - so I excused myself from the conversation only to walk into the kitchen to see where once there were 4 scones, now there are two...no Gromit??? I peek around the corner and sure enough, there is Gromit tail up head down scarfing the last crumbs of his second blueberry scone. Yep - they must have been good.

Alas - I try to decide - do I work to rid my dog of this planning or make it more complicated for him to get things so he is mentally more challenged. My good friends tell me he does not counter surf at their house- hmmmm, could this really be something he does only for our entertainment? Only the Labradoodle knows for sure....

Dashing Gromit

2010-05-18T21:33:00.007-05:00

This morning Kristin and I biked to the Farmer's Market in Minneapolis. The route along the river has a few good hills, and it is a nice ride. I drive this route a few times a week but biking it is different. First we headed down a half-mile decline and followed the river banks for a while.

As we biked we passed a rowing team out on the river and it was a nice close view of them pulling oars as we coasted through the Bohemian Flats. From this flat open spot, looking up you can see the West Bank on the left and the University of Minnesota campus on the right and between them the Washington Ave Bridge - painted in Gold and Maroon.

Then there is a section of the flats that used to be an open green grassy meadow bordering the river where an old fashioned river boat docked for public rides, but now it is surrounded by 8 foot chain link fence and has big huge pieces of the I35W bridge still strewn about on the grass. Where once West Bank students used to spread a blanket and read in the sun now scrub has grown and twisting steel is everywhere. But it doesn't last forever and the next thing we knew we were biking up and out of the bottoms covering the other side of the half-mile hill in the other direction, we rose slowly on this steep hill and passing under the new I35W bridge and by the Red Cross building.

Soon the new Guthrie Theatre was in sight. The tall blue tiles with actors and characters of times gone by and current shows change as you bike past them – faces appear and disappear like holograms on the walls. Then to the wooden plank road by the Mill City museum and the Stone Arch bridge. Eventually we had to get off the bike path and rode through Downtown. We chose Hennepin Ave because it has a bike lane. We passed Block E and the Theatre District and just as we were getting to the Basilica we hung a right and were back near the new Twin's Target Field.

As we rounded a corner off Lyndale we landed at the Minneapolis Farmer's Market with a lot of other folks. The street musicians could be heard immediately - a sax player, a cello player later and we saw a smooth one-man band complete with drums and harmonica. Baked goods, grilled foods and fresh herbs all floated in the humid air as we walked the market with our list of fresh needs. We found everything including avocados - probably not so local - LOL! Then we sat and had fresh orange juice and lemonade and headed home. The ride home was a little slower, you know that heavy leg feeling when you get back on your bike after resting for a bit - it didn't last much past the first little hill and then lactic acid was moving and the muscles - whatever muscle there is in my legs, were working once more.

I drive this route a lot but you know it is really different when you slow down and bike it or jog it. It is different when the lilacs are in bloom and hit your nose, or when your skin cools as you hit the bottom of the hill. You can see the great walls of limestone left by the glaciers. You get a chance to actually notice where the geese are nesting and see the little goslings. My favorite is to look at all the flagstone walls and stairs that were built in the 30's as part of the WPA. They are many shades of gray and flat gravel yellow. They are crumbling but still the craftsmanship impresses me. Once they must have been stunning. I try to picture what it looked like back when they were built, and what the fisherman wore back then, what kind of beer was in the bottle they swigged while watching their bobber - and I wondered if the rowing club had a women's team then or was it only men? You get time to notice where the entrance the Archive Library, deep in a cave, is located. You can smell the musty dampness of the water in the natural walls covered by ancient vines. As I ride by the Stone Arch Bridge, I wonder how the water was used all those years ago to help make the flower at the mill. Then there is Lock No1 on the Mississippi river. Whoever thought to put these locks all the way down the Mississippi river? Anyway, it is another look at the route I drive so often.

Gromit recently gave our agility class a little piece of the difference between seeing what is in front of you and seeing what no one else is looking for, during a simple jump exercise. It was a sweltering night and it was our first outside class. I missed our turn and so we were half an hour late to class. When we entered a good dog friend of Gromit’s ran over to greet him and was immediately in trouble with the instructor. I understand but boy that little yorkipoo was cuter than cute as he pawed at Gromit’s face with his front paws trying to give Gromit and sweet hello. We made it through this and waited to do an exercise called the circle of doom – or something like that. The exercise is basically 12 jumps in a circle placed like the numbers on a clock. You help guide your canine partner to jump in and out of the circle with each jump. So Gromit, in all the heat gathered himself and while not super enthusiastic did follow my lead and jumped in and then jumped out over in and out over and in over and..suddenly faster than I could see "out, over" he dashed out and stole a ball from a dog on the outside of the circle and raced away and came back to the circle. He had been planning this since we started the jump sequence. That silly dog makes me laugh – he even made the instructor laugh. I had not even seen this dog’s toy but Gromit had it in his sights through the whole exercise. It does beg the question about what motivates Gromit – it isn’t always about the food – it might be about the best practical joke.

Later that week I found Gromit in the living room with an entire baguette between his front paws. When he saw me he looked away and offered no shame. Why I bet he planned that for at least an hour while we were having cheese and fruit with our houseguests. He had to track where I moved that bread until I had the whole kitchen cleaned and both Kristin and I headed upstairs for bed. I had to come back downstairs for something and at the bottom of the stairs was an empty bread bag….I called Gromit and there wasn’t a SOUND…silence…very very unusual in our house. I walked into the living room and there he was enjoying his prize.

I asked my instructor how to train some of this behavior out of Gromit and then just smiled and said I really didn’t want to train it out of him – this was the true charm of Gromit - this is what makes him so dashing - He means no harm – just enjoys a good practical joke.

A photo essay by Gromit the pretty good off white, giant doodle -

2010-05-16T17:37:00.014-05:00

A nice day at the dog park and here is Gromit stopping to smell the flowers..."hmmm, when I sniff this flower it falls apart??"

"Hey Chewie, put down that ball and come over here and play in the flowers with me."

"I wonder how it tastes?"

"Oh, Chewie has lost sight of his ball....I have an idea...."

"Oh, oh - Chewie is getting close I have to get that ball"

"I think I can, I know I can get that ball before Chewie"

"I got it, I got it, I got it I got the ball and oh, oh- Chewie has got focus"

"YeeHaw -...try and catch me now, Mr. Muscle and serious - oh yeah, look whose tongue is hanging out now!!"

"Umm, I can't seem to pant..and...hang....on....to this darn ball."

"I lost it - LOL!, it was fun while it lasted."

"Alas, all is right with the world again - our little black Yoda has the ball once more."

"One thing my buddy from Bugtussle and I agree on is that after a romp at the dog park...."

"...every doodle needs a good couch and a little rest."

"See you all later!."

The Teeter Class

2010-04-29T21:05:00.004-05:00

I wish I understood more about the mind and emotions sometimes, or the subconscious. I would really like to understand why some nights I wake up worrying about a friend or work or Kristin and whether or not I was thoughtful enough or maybe whether or not I was stupid and try to see if what I said the last time I was with people demonstrated their sacredness and importance to me. I don't think I am less than anyone, but I also don't think I am more than anyone and when I am with people....well I just try not to take it for granted when someone chooses to spend time with me.

Okay - so here is the puzzling thing - why then do I wake up some nights worried about not putting my folded laundry away, or singing some endless jingle in my brain, or whether or not my cell phone is charged?

And I would love to know what Gromit is dreaming about when his feet start to twitch - is he stealing pizza off the counter or enjoying a romp with Chewie? What makes his whole snout twitch in excitement. Does he dream smells?

Left to my own devices I often find myself anxious with worry of epic pathetic proportions. Charming I know, but true. I count on Gromit and Chewie to scoop me out of myself. Bring me back down to earth and connect with something simple and true. For instance, when you have an itch scratch it - if the grass is green and cool, roll around in it, if someone wants you to do something - wait it out until you get a good treat or better yet, a good chuck it ball is offerred up.

This week, I took Chewie to agility class and stopped on my way to pick up some Cheez Whiz. I had to try to get him to walk for the very first time all the way across the teeter. I am not trying to have fun at his expense but that boy can be so bossy when he is scared. Perhaps his best defense is his offense.

Anyway let me try to paint this picture. One 85lb stocky bowlegged black labradoodle approaches a teeter that is literally six inches off the ground. He danced in a circle and looked at me - I am pretty sure he was trying to tell me he really didn't like the situation. The instructor whipped out the cheez whiz and led Chewie onto the board, first two feet and then he got some cheez whiz. Then the instructor pulled the Cheez Whiz back to move Chewie back - I am here to tell you, I believe Chewie stretched the length of his body about twice as long as it could go as he was trying not lift his back paws off the security of the turf covered concrete floor. Finally he released his mental mooring and moved onto the board and then to the center of the board. Then a little further and boom, the other end hit the floor and Chewie leapt off the teeter. Aha - he was on to us, and he let me know it in no uncertain woofs. But darn that Cheez Whiz - he could not resist and before you knew it he had his front paws on the board and then his back paws and he was to the middle again. Now he leaned forward a tad slower and the board did not slam down. This was a Cheez Whiz jackpot AND got him a break. We sat down to watch the Sheltie who was up after us. I started to pet Chewie and put my brushed my down his leg and yuck, there was something sticky, what coudl that be? Of course, I looked and he had Cheez Whiz everywhere - his leg, his chin, the top of his head. It was everywhere. He started to lick his fur and groom himself.

We watched the Sheltie dance on the board daintily. Rode the teeter like it was a surf board, back and forth he leaned on the center of the board. He had no inhibitions. Chewie was not amused when his turn came up quickly because the guy behind us had it in a matter of seconds. Alas.... I tried to explain to Chewie that he had other good things he did, like the threadle's and the hoops.

When we were done with class I was pretty sure he needed a beer and a cigar. Poor guy was beyond himself. Who knew how stressful agility could be....alas....he got me out of my worry, and I think I pulled him out of his obsessive safety behavior. Silly boy!

My Day at the Spa by Chewibaka of Bugtussle

2010-03-27T10:51:00.003-05:00

Hey everyone - my name is Chewbaka of Bugtussle - I come from the hills of Tennessee and am son to Kramer and Hannah, brother to gentle Tater and the good & mighty Nero. Yes you can spell my mom's name forward and backward and it works out the same - can you dig it? From the childhood days of romping with other puppies and 7 other dogs in the back yard of T - I brought the chivalry and loyalty known to all Labradors to my people in Minnesota. I also have the poodle charm and intelligence and have been known to pick up the hearts of even our aged senior cats, who, believe me, need a little lightness on occasion. I am always on the look out for my next meal and any sign of a tennis ball. Some believe I was secretly trained by Good Housekeeping as a safety inspector and hold the seal of approval in my right front paw. I proudly say no, it is all in my genetics and well if you know my people, you would understand why someone in the house needs to keep the focus and pay attention - Heidi loses things frequently, and that my friends is why I have several tennis balls secreted away in the back yard. Further more, there are so many obstacles that could easily break a bone or maybe cause death if not noted and carefully observed while daintily waking around them - like say the brush on the stairs, the pop can on the floor, or worst of all the wobble board that Heidi tries to get me on all the time - good grief!

Well after 3 years and 11 months (my birthday is coming..) I received a bit of gratification for all my sincere dedication (sometimes known as stubbornness). Don't get me wrong I have appreciated the attempt to make grooming more palatable to me. I appreciate the fact that the last groomer sent a Sherpa out to the car to carry me into the grooming salon. If only H or K could have fanned me while I was making my entrance into the salon. Yes, my people tried the mobile groomer and it was okay but a little expensive. Then they tried the home grooming. Now this has been a very interesting experience. K composed a song that she sings on the days I get groomed - "It's a Chewie Ham Shower, ham shower, ham shower - it's a Chewie ham shower..." I convinced Heidi that I am so wary of that shower that Heidi has taken to purchasing cold cuts to lure me into the shower. Heheheh . So that was okay but then K puts me up on a table in the dining room and uses those shears and it takes two to three sittings sometimes days until she is done and she is never ever satisfied with how I look. My opinion, I am no better at retrieving balls after being bathed and groomed, none of the dogs at the dog park smell me as much when I have that herbal essence in my coat, and frankly I find I need to roll in the grass more often after one of those baths.

Well, let me tell you - this week we tried a new grooming salon. I heard the intake lady talking about a spa package and I thought to myself - PEOPLE, MY PEOPLE, don't do it? Have I yet to apply my paw of approval on the tubs at this Wendy's Dog Grooming place - did you see that giant plastic poodle in the store window - what the hell - Heidi no...I think it was the organic shampoo and paw paste that sold her. Woe always me? I hear her saying something about how Gromit could never tolerate a paw massage - he gets out of everything!

In the end - Wowsa - this place was amazing. Sure they still had to have the bath and drier - but I was assigned a girl in a pink coat. They soaked me in a tub and massaged my feet used a special dremel. Next time I am going to ask for a cigar and some ham to go with it, more bubble bath and a few candles. Maybe they could turn on the Westminster show while I am soaking. Then they gave me a massage. I don't think it was Swedish but oo la la! I was so relaxed by the time I got out of that place - I lazed around dreamily all night. I would recommend it to all dogs. My one and ONLY complaint - no one composed and sang my own personal song for me - Ham, shower, ham shower, its a Chewie ham shower.

The Training Sessions -

2010-03-26T20:49:00.003-05:00

So I took Gromit to his first Agility Trial in about 6 months. It didn’t go so well for either one of us. Hmm, seeds of fertile opportunity presented themselves to us? Nah – I have some other thoughts about this –

The truth is I was not so sure about this trial stuff but I was encouraged by a friend who got me into this sport in the first place. It is fun to do together and she thought it was time I got back out in the circuit. I think Gromit and I short circuited at the trial and I wish I could go back and do it all over again, but I can’t. Thank goodness dogs don’t hold grudges .

Gromit and I have stopped trialing so I can learn how to handle him and so he can learn to pay attention to me. I am not so sure that I have the right focus for Gromit. After attending the Suzanne Clothier workshop I realized wanted to do some more observing with Gromit and practice empathy a little more. You know – like seeing the world as much as possible from Gromit’s paws…She talks about Relationship Centered Training and part of this was asking some elemental questions and in finding the answers you may deepen the interaction with animals. Here are the questions but I wouldn't begin to try to explain how to answer the questions - she is an expert and discussed these for the day that I was at her seminar. I learned a lot about observing dog behavior but one day is like touching the surface of an ocean of knowledge. It kept pretty much every ounce of my attention fro the day. I really enjoyed her presenation, stories, and ability to come back to focus on the topic.
Hello
How is this for you
Who are you
May I
Can you
Can we

I did secure a private session with Gromit to ask for individual assistance in my relationship with Gromit. I wanted to continue to try to see what Gromit experiences and make his quality of life better. I felt especially encouraged that I could do that. One of the last things she said to me – “I like your relationship, it is a nice relationship, yeah.” I have such a lack of trust with people in authority positions, but I did feel like for the first time someone really looked at Gromit, saw Gromit, was interested in what Gromit wanted and not in managing Gromit. In fact, I felt at some point like I wanted to leave fast so I could just sit with Gromit . I remember thinking, okay this is enough information, I am not that smart, let me just take this and work with it. Reminded me of a couples counseling session when you hit a new level in the relationship because you can see the other person and it touches you so strongly. Suddenly being right doesn’t matter as much as being connected with this other being. When you are ready to leave the office but the therapist feels like you should get your whole hour. I wanted to say I paid for 45 minutes but I just got a whole lot in 25 minutes – I am good, in fact, I don’t want to lose what you just said to us and I wanna leave now, while I feel this connected to Gromit so I can hang on to it.

So then I go to the day long workshop with all these trainers – I forgot that I am just there to be a better trainer with my own dogs but there are people there that are making their living with this work. The day went very fast and I learned a lot. I tried a lot on in my head with Gromit. We observed a total of 5 dogs during the morning and afternoon sessions. I thought that was a lot, but maybe it is because I have not studied this stuff before.

Here is how a couple of questions went for me –
Heidi – C’mon big dog, let’s get you out of that kennel and go play. Gromit comes out of the kennel like a butterfly leaving a cocoon –
Gromit – ahhh, I can breath and move
Heidi – Hey buddy how is this for you?
Gromit quickly replies – well, wha –, I don’t know, how is this for YOU?
Heidi – No Gromit, I am trying to figure out how this is for you and stay out of trouble, someone always has some rule I don’t know about and they give me a stern talking to about something, I am just waiting for what it will be this time…how is this for you?
Gromit – hey did you see that huge fan up there, what the heck, let’s look at that for a minu….oh, the barking in this place, heidi who is this guy that is waving his hands at me and walking into towards us ? (Gromit goes on alert and backs up and the guy keeps coming and then starts waving his hands at his side indicating we should move back and Gromit stiffens a bit and I try to leave the area but the guy starts talking to me and I can’t figure out what is more important paying attention to Gromit or understand what this guys wants us to do – Gromit started pulling into his body and getting ready to bark )
Heidi – Gromit sit, gromit shake, gromit watch me - distract, focus – focus back on me
Gromit – okay, sit – how is this for (Offers a paw to me) you, oh, there’s Karen and Reba(offers me eye contact) I am a little stiff –
And so it went – we really couldn’t get to the ‘can we’ questions which was the one I needed for the trial.

The thing about this training with Suzanne Clothier made me think about how people are with each other – why don’t we say hello more and observe how this is for other people – I know that whenever I try to see something from another persons view point I might not agree but at least we are actually sharing a space together instead of trying to push more space between us. I imagine the way it would be in the world if more people invited people do participate instead of bossing each other around…while Suzanne talks about respect I remember thinking Gromit looked so much softer even at the trial in the midst of all the activity and my own nervous chaos– I wasn’t ever mad or frustrated – just trying to figure out what we could do together. We have more days to do things together – stay tuned I am sure there is a lot more time for can we – we are getting there.

Bring it on - whatever it is that is next....

2010-03-13T17:33:00.008-06:00

Karma – I really don’t know much about it past ‘what goes around comes around ’ as the simile for Karma. I have an instant karma about things like parking tickets and speeding. The universe has reprimanded me immediately for such infractions. Probably the universe making sure I don’t get so far out of check that the extended universes end trying to compensate for me.

In other areas, karma has come back to me still biting but taking its sweet time. Such has been my experience with the aging process. Case in point – Years ago I worked in a job where I was searching and screening resources for folks to use through an Employee Assistance Program. I was provided an opportunity to help build the next level of the software tool we used to store our information and provide insight to the technology team on what was needed from my user experience. I remember having one therapist, a primary user of the system, who insisted we think about font size in the application. I couldn’t believe she would take 10 minutes of every hour on this project to discuss this ridiculous issue. For heaven’s sake just change the settings on your personal PC.

This was about 10 years ago and if you zoom to the current here is where it all comes back around - I now work in technology and am constantly interfaced with decisions around requirements that are written by people who are younger, drive life much faster and have little time for technologists who are busy thinking about things like – can all that fit on the screen so we can actually read it? How do you tell the up and coming prince and princesses that they need to slow down and consider that having it all is not necessarily what they want?! I can’t read their tiny requirements that they insist need to be on a single spreadsheet. More importantly they think we are creating an application that will be viewable only by the general population under the age of 40 who have no sight impairments. Isn’t there any consideration for special needs in this world? What ever happened to carrying out the primary functions of our jobs. Alas….

My parents taught me a thing or two about lightness and the humility of laughing at myself. They taught me how admitting my own mistake and not being afraid to admit it can disarm a situation. If I take myself a little less seriously and consider my intentions and how they might have been interpreted, I can also imagine that other folks’ intentions were with the same kindness and not stupid or mean, maybe they were gullible or simply impulsive.

This essence of lightness has served me well as I attempt to tolerate the aging process with any sense of gracefulness. I am not happy about the fact that seeing this blog gets harder each month. I have started to act annoyed when someone asks me about the ingredients in something rather than explain I can’t read them. I don’t tell anyone except Kristin that I am starting to avoid driving at night. I have become relieved instead of offended if someone completes my thought – we could be up all night waiting for me to think of the right word to finish a sentence. The oddest to me though, it seems that my mind has taken to speaking without warning or at least sans the normal editing of an adult that has grown with manners or understands tact. I have found myself having to relearn how to listen and not interrupt and to sip water before speaking in heated discussions at work. Alas…woe always me – LOL!

Some of this can be traced far back into the Kyllo and Roskaft family genes. Some go back to the Thorson’s. Once my grandfather picked up meat from the meat market for his family and another family. The butcher had marked what each package was but my grandfather had to sort and freeze the meat. In haste he marked the meat as he put it in the freezer using my grandmother’s name for their meat – Leo (short for Lenore). To this day I still giggle to myself when I think about pulling out the roast marked in haste – ‘Leo’s Rump Roast.’ He wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing, but let me tell you that didn’t go over quite as well with my grandmother as it did for years with the rest of us. Regardless I would like to thank my parents for teaching me how to laugh at the ridiculous.

My mother, and her mother and myself often have misconstrued certain familiar sayings – like six of one half dozen of another – I thought it was six and one and half dozen - my Virgo self could just not wrap around how those were equal but knowing it was a common saying I tried using it once. The first time, I think Kristin let it slide, but the second time – she looked at me and asked me to repeat what I was saying and then explained the error of my ways. Sometimes, my brain, which unlike many of my friends who are studied, or writers, or just paid more attention does seem to have more fragmented memory than other people. I get the general idea but just seem to miss on the exact words. So in these times my family choses to laugh at themselves in embarrassment rather than take on anger that can sometimes come when one makes a mistake.

This year we took a trip to Orlando and I have to say I couldn’t believe the number of things that I misread including road signs, menus and Disney signs – seriously who can’t read what Mickey has written in the air? – I started to wonder is it my eye sight, is this the sudden onset of menopause, or worse yet, am I losing my mind?

So here are a few from our trip to Florida. I started by trying to pack the shampoo – I looked our normal trip bag and saw that it had conditioner already and all I needed to do was locate a travel size bottle of shampoo. I did – Shampure by Aveda, but alas, the bottle was small and not full – so I took it in the bathroom and filled it from our large stash. When we got to the hotel in Florida, Kristin asked me where I might have packed the shampoo??? I told her it was in a travel bottle in the trip kit – she could only find conditioner – apparently I added the shampoo to a bottle of conditioner – I didn’t see that on the label – argh matey!

Then while out jogging I ran by a sign at the Walgreen’s that read HI NI available. By the time I jogged back by the sign I read it with serious intent because for the last 20 minutes I had been trying to figure out what that sign said – why would everybody be interested in this Hi Ni? Suddenly I started laughing out loud – OH H1 N1 – the flu shot was available . When I got back to the hotel I told Kristin about this experience and we both cracked up because apparently she had seen the same sign and had the exact same thought about it – she started in on having the hi ni – she was sick during our vacation and I told her we should have made our first stop the Walgreens and she might have stayed healthy the whole trip – who knew?

It didn’t stop there I read something about the fabulous Antarctica when it was really fabulous attractions in the Magic Kingdom. Then I got home and was joking with one of my friends and told her to put the metal to the pedal if we were going to be on time to the movie – Kristin gave me a sideways glance and there was this dead silence in the car – it took me about 30 seconds to figure out what I had actually said…LOL

It is still coming around – I feel like it’s coming round the mountain right now – is that how menopause feels? Sometimes if hits me like a tidal wave, or ton of bricks or something…will my memory ever give me words like it used to do? Will I ever again feel like I can drive at night without worry? Alas, I have succumbed to the knowledge that flashes of brilliance will be further and fewer between and it would be good to laugh at myself when I make mistakes and when I am humbled. I will try to avoid the sense of humiliation and resolve to pace it a step at a time – there is no loss in enjoying the moments, humorous, full, and graciousness of time. I have an endearing memory of my grandmother and I playing duets and she missed a key change and we would laugh hysterically and then she would start to cry she was laughing so hard - turns out she had the wrong glasses on - if that is what I have to look forward to, then let the laughter begin!

How much embellishment was there in Marley and Me, Gromit?

2010-03-03T10:53:00.005-06:00

Well, Kristin I had dinner last evening at a Mediterranean Buffet - Buffet and Kristin is such an oxymoron these days but we tried other options as we walked around to the restaurants available at the resort where we are staying and decided that French, Italian and Greek cuisine was our choice on the first official vacation meal for the first official vacation I have been on in two years. Funny, I love traveling but apparently my roots have grown deeper than I realized.

Kristin has taken to calling me a dog freak since Gromit came into our lives, it happened gradually but I have to say I think many people would laugh about how hard it is for me to leave the boys. It is hard for a number of reasons but the biggest one of course is - how can we possibly ask anyone else to take on the daily rituals that we are so accustomed to with those boys and our cats. We packed up their food, fish oil supplements, Costco size jar of peanut butter(if you are not a dog person - that is for the fish oil supplements to get smothered in so they go down easier), double leash, 2 regular leashes, 2 easy walk harnesses- one barely in tact due to the dutiful chewing of one CHEWbakha from Bugtussle, one Gentle Leader Head Collar, 2 glass bowls, and a huge bin of dog treats for any dog that might need one. I dropped the dogs off trying to make it seem normal and turned to give them each a kiss a top their head and said "be good, behave and be good dogs."

Our list of instructions feels like it goes on and on, and I get guiltier and guiltier as I realize, this is a lot when someone is already having their daily life with their own pets and full time job

Here is the list -

we put out a set of replacement towels to cover Tiace's heating pad if she vomits on it - she prefers a clean bed, so if you just pull the ones she barfed on out and throw them in the laundry room and place a clean one from the pile that would be great
the cats eat once a day but they prefer their litter box to also be cleaned at that time
Schmadios likes to be petted even if you don't think so - she will chatter away while you are doing things at the house - let her go and give her a little scratch under the chin and when she flops over a little rub on the belly
there is extra dog food at the house if you run out - they each get one scoop twice a day
they get fish oil once a day in peanut butter
if you go to the dog park... park the car as close to the airport as you can then walk the gravel road on the edge of the park. This way Gromit doesn't meet up with too many dogs that can't travel fast and far to play with him, which means they can get away.
at the beginning toss Chewie's ball to Gromit and let him race around Chewie with it - gives them both instant busy time and will take care of any zaniness they might have
Gromit is not a fighter, he barks and if he is scared he will run and hide behind you - he is afraid of Great Dane's and think every Keeshound and Berner could be his best friends but once he gets a sniff he will know who is who
he is very good with old or injured dogs - he is polite but will not bother them
When a dog does want to play, Gromit needs to be reminded that he is bigger and that little dogs don't like to see his belly while rolling over on the ground, and even if they jump up tail wagging happy and come right back at Gromit it is best to stop him before he starts to play chase - chase is a bad game for him - not because he is mean, because he is big and no dog seems to understand that he is fast - big but fast - the only two dogs he has not caught up with were a vizsla and a group of whippets - he has caught up with every other dog I have seen him chase and runs circles around most dogs that chase him - some dogs love this, some dogs don't, I just figure prevention is the best route to take and keep him running toward Chewie -
Chewie never starts anything but he does not like to mounted - he seriously does not like to mounted - so keep the ball moving and he will give off the stay away I am working vibe to everyone but the gregarious 18 month and younger pure labs - those dogs love to play and cannot be redirected - their owners will try to stop them but young labs as young poodles often exhibit a behavior called Selective Deafness, eventually Gromit will come over and those dogs are perfect for playing with Gromit - they love to wrestle and run and are big enough to enjoy Gromit
Chewie can go anywhere on his leash, he is well behaved on his leash - I take him to stores and to the coffee shop and on the parkway
Gromit cannot go anywhere on his leash unless you are working him the whole time - talking to him, redirecting him, running him, changing directions, getting tired just typing this but that is the energy that it takes to meet Gromit - LOL
Gromit will surf the counter, the table and your plate
Chewie will use his eye contact to overpower your will power and move food from your counter to his mouth
Chewie does not like thunderstorms but you shouldn't have to worry about that right now

That's the list - phew - how tocompensate anyone who is willing to take those two dogs into their home for 10 days? And tend to our 19 year old adored felines - You really count your blessings when you know you have friends who can manage these guys - if there is a heaven they surely sent those women our direction -

Moving ahead - my first morning on vacation and I slept until 8am CST - 9am EST - I spent my first official morning sleeping in while Kristin got up to attend a conference. I woke up and turned on the television - why waste a morning in a king size bed, no cats or dogs filling up the spaces between Kristin and I. So I figured I would see if there was a good morning movie, order breakfast in bed - and what to my wandering eyes should appear but a dog movie - Marely and Me. I settled in and relaxed while Kristin showered. I forgot how funny Marely's decisions were to me when I first saw the movie on the big screen. So Kristin is drying herself off from the shower and we are chuckling in unison at the movie and I hear her say from the other side of the wall - "they must have embellished because no dog could be that bad." Umm - Kristin - I have a whole blog about Gromit and Chewie and that doesn't even count the things our perfect dog Rowdy Ann did - yeah, I think Marley is completely plausible, no embellishment required. Perhaps the humans were not quite as low key as it appeared in the movie - She hasn't read the take care of Gromit and Chewie list yet but - does she remember the time Rowdy ate the whole bottle of chewable Rimadyl or what about Chewie eating gross muchies from the dog yard, or Gromit running past her to go outside with a piece of pizza in his mouth, maybe she forgot about the fact that our Room and Board dining room table has chewed legs - Chewbakha, or the fact that we had to give Gromit hyrdogen peroxide last week, after eating three rolls of rising bread dough, does she remember how Gromit screeched the whole airplane ride home, doesn't she recall the phone call we received at the stop sign two blocks away from our house that the glass break detector in the living room went off - the first time we left Gromit home alone, or the fact that we waited a couple of years before we bought a new couch after Rowdy lived with us - she ate the other couch - oh, yeah, I believe in Marley's bad behavior as much as I believe Marely was a completely loved dog - we completely love our dogs - and all their mischievousness right along with all the snuggling and deep sighing -

Yin and Yang, Salt and Pepper, Earth and AIr, Gromit n Chewie

2010-02-18T20:03:00.004-06:00

Gromit thinks at a blistering pace. Just when I have myself convinced that I know his every trick, he comes up with a new one. At night he has taken to jumping in bed for a little snuggle before we go to sleep. I think he is relaxing when he drops the weight of his head on my shoulder, runs his tongue over his nose, and then gives a big sigh that blows my bangs up. His eyes close and he starts that rhythmic breathing. I fall into a shallow sleep until I am woken by his bounce off the bed and an ever so casual clip clip clip of his paws as he slips, pink panther style, back to the kitchen. As I lie half awake trying to remember what we had for dinner and what would still be on the counter, in the sink, above the stove - lights out and holding my breath, I hear - clunk, clink - Kristin looks at me, "I think that was the spatula from the cookies," crash....we look at each other and in unison say "the pizza pan from the sink." So as you read this blog I ask you - does he know - does he have a plan to get in bed and snuggle in close, help us relax and fall asleep so that he can get to the kitchen and start his evening tramp of whatever didn't get put in the dishwasher without worry? We are both so close to falling into the REM state we just don't care that he has the spatula or pizza pan. Do you think he knows this? I would not put it by him...I know what you are thinking - a better method would be to clean the kitchen before going to bed - we do this 95% of the time, but that 5% when we don't - he must get good enough goodies to make it worth all this planning - ha!

Gromit and I live by the same motto - life moves too fast to spend time reading the instructions. Or perhaps another way to look at it - I wanna get going, I don't like having to pay attention to anything but what I want to pay attention to - Push buttons, scratch open doors, always live with you nose taking in the air and your tail swishing happily above you - there could be something interesting happening at any moment and if you keep your adrenaline flowing you won't miss anything. Touch it, taste it, sniff it - just try it -

So when it comes to agility, Gromit is always willing to try just about anything - lord knows I have seen that dog twist in directions no body should go in - like Kristin's bread dough, he would just rise up and try again if it didn't go as planned.

In class most people walk the course three times - once to understand it, a second time to see what it looks like for the dog and a final time to plan how to get the two of you through it most efficiently. I walk it a fourth time to see what the distractions are - are there sandbags stored under the dog walk that Gromit will need to visit? Is this tunnel new? Are there any toys that the instructor was using to motivate another dog that got left on the course? Is there a pin that is sticking out too far? Does the A frame have rubber chips that Gromit has never felt under his feet? Who is running in front of us and do they have a toy sticking out of their back pocket - Gromit will sneak up and grab it if they do?

Enter the ChewBug - Now Chewie is our downward chi dog. I think if the universe has an OSHA spirit, it surely sent us this dog to keep Gromit's helium self from floating off into thin air. Safety first - bark safety, think safety and eat a lot of good food. There isn't a manual long enough to convince Chewie to get on the teeter in agility class. He is going to take a good two years to try that thing out. He is such a loyal dog he will put his head down and try things for me but only after a fairly lengthy lecture on the reasons not to try it. I think his lecture goes something like - "Hey, those little shelties are darn lovely but they don't weigh anywhere near as much as me, how do you know that table will hold me? Let's just try this thing out here a paw at a time I don't think we should go jumping on it, let's just slow down a bit here." "Heidi, sure those border collies went up the dog walk, those dogs are crazed - they don't even care about food(?). They think they are working, they love to work but hey do you see any sheep here? Listen here, what is the treat you brought to class, I might try this for say, oh a piece of bacon - did you bring a tennis ball? We know how to chase tennis balls, that is a good job why don't we go do that, we know that, I trust tennis balls, tennis balls are my friend...I don't know anything about this teeter."

He jumps at 16" - even though he is tall enough for 24". This summer I had him up to 20" but he has never done that in class. So when we tried moving the bar up, he went around in a pinwheel but when he got back to the first jump he started prancing his front feet, head up in the air lecturing of me to get that bar back down - I swear that dog counted the posts on the jumps and realized we had moved the bar up - GOOD GRIEF!

The fun of all this is that when my salt of the earth dog gets up the confidence to try something and he executes on it he is so proud of himself that he sings his own praises. I think that the day he gets on the teeter I might give him a gold medal filled with bacon. It will be his own personal Olympic achievement.

Now that other big white dog, well, sprinkle a little of him into your day and you have enough spice to take your attention away from everything else - I am forever trying to help balance that boy - or maybe he is trying to help me focus on something...anything...or at least him?!

Either way, it is all about the fun - neither one really lets me forget that - or maybe it is all about the treats, or it is all about the tennis ball....

I Own Half This House

2010-02-13T12:46:00.007-06:00

You know how it is after you settle into a relationship with another person and then things kind of start to uncover within yourself? After being with Kristin for about 5 or 6 years I found myself uncovering some fairly ridiculous logic and had to finally acknowledge that I was mixed up a bit about how relationships work. Fortunately for me Kristin has been all about the patience in this area. Let me give you a couple of real life examples of how this went -

We would decide jointly Saturday would be our chore day. I would wake up crabby on Saturday morning, sure that Kristin didn't understand what it was like for me to not get a day off and just relax. I would go downstairs and turn on the coffee pot that she had set up the night before. I would let the dog out and then get my cup of coffee. She would get up behind me and I would be immediately crabby sure she would expect me to continue working while she was doing her chores even though she started after me - harrumph! So I would start my chores, the shower, she hates cleaning the shower so I have sacrificed and taken the shower as one of my chores. She would interrupt me cheerfully "hun, can you help me make the bed?" - ugh, I would pout into the bedroom to help make the bed. She would look up at me and say, "you know, I am really against you, I spent last night tossing and turning just so you had to help me make the bed." "Oh, and I have been showering all week, just so you would have to clean it." WELL---I would look up and just start laughing - I had to, how could I not when I realized that she was absolutely right - somewhere in myself had decided that if she didn't make things such a mess I wouldn't have to do chores.

There are a few other good examples of my view being a bit askew, but a favorite of mine was trimming the shrubs. We had shrubs at our last house. Kristin trimmed the shrubs. She never trimmed the shrubs often enough for me. Why I thought I should have an opinion of about how often they would get trimmed when it was something she took care of I still cannot say, but one day I decided I wanted to trim the shrubs. Kristin was immediately resistant to this. There were a few reasons, maybe even good ones, but I would not be stopped - so what if my attention to detail was not the same as hers, or that I had never used the electric trimmers and she had other plans for her day, or that I have a history of weeding even the flowers out of the garden to make it look neat - I wanted those shrubs trimmed and it sounded like fun and I looked at her and said - "I own half this house and half those shrubs, I am trimming them." I must have been in quite a mood because she was able to maintain calmness and not laugh in my face. She did however remark, "well, I own the half this house and half those shrubs and you are not entiteld to cut half of the shrubs down." So she calmly offered a few pointers and helped me get the trimmers out. She then promptly left. Let's just say the bushes were trimmed beyond trimming - I have an odd sense of neat, and maybe trimmed off a little more than needed to be taken off. To this day, we still laugh a bit about the use of my partnership in buying the house to get a turn at trimming the bushes.

So now here we are years later, two dogs, two cats a fixed up fixer upper house and no shrubs, two showers, and a much bigger lawn. I have some to realize that the dogs do not bark at the mailman to annoy me, they are bored and they chase him successfully away, every single day. The cats don't barf up hair balls all week because they are against me and want me to do laundry. I understand that owning half the house is a gift rather than a burden and when it is a burden we share it. On the other hand I still have my moments.

This week I found myself having 10 royal minutes of 'princessness'. I have a goofy resistance to needing people. It makes me really mad when someone sees a vulnerability - can you imagine being Kristin? Anyway, I was on my way to work and instead of wearing boots I had on my work shoes. It had snowed about 6 inches the day before and Kristin was still sleeping which meant the driveway was not snow blown off. I had to wade through the snow to the garage and get the car out. I got stuck in the driveway. Now I did not want to get out and get my feet wet so instead of shoveling spent a few minutes going back and forth trying to work my way over the slight hill to the alley from our driveway. I called Kristin as soon as I was out of the driveway to let her know that I had just managed my way out of the driveway. There was a bit implication in my voice that my troubles were her fault...just a bit of nerve, don't you think?!

When I got to work I had an e-mail from her with one simple question - "Hey, how come my half of the house is always the one that needs something done? Why can't I own the dining room instead of the driveway?" Apparently owning half the house entitles me to remove any or all of the snow from the driveway - LOL!

Vroom, vroom - groom groom -

2010-02-08T22:11:00.004-06:00

Rarely does a day go by now when I am not very very thankful that I have a job in this financial climate - at a bank no less. In many ways I consider myself lucky because I know that in today's climate you can do whatever you want to earn your way, but it in the end it makes little difference. People that deserve jobs don't have them. And I don't deserve a job anymore than many people out there who don't have a job. So yes, I consider myself lucky. I like to think I have a good work ethic, but that no longer means I deserve my job.

We made some budget decisions in 2009. Like a lot of people, we felt like we had to cut some of the fat out of our budget. We started cooking more at home and eating out less often. We also cut our pet budget. We stopped paying a dog walker and started dedicating more time to the boys. Now we split it 3 days for Kristin and four days for me. She picks up extra days, though. With Gromit's recent back situation we have been walking them on leashes only - no dog parks. Kristin was really against this at first. She didn't see him fall at the dog park like I did - he looked like a thoroughbred in a race that suddenly blew out a knee or something, his knee buckled and he skidded across a sheet of ice on it clawing on the ice as his back legs splayed and swung around him - I don't think I inhaled again until he stood back up and shook himself off - it seemed like it took forever - but I am sure it was just a second or two - once I knew his back was hurt I could not stand the thought of it happening again so frankly I was a little relieved when the vet said no dog park for a couple of weeks.... Suffice it to say though, that Kristin and I lack the Dog Whisper technique in walking both dogs at the same time - she walks and remains patient using a chant methodology to focus her energy on lightness - "I love my dogs, I love my dogs, I love my dogs" even if they do bark at nothing while we walk through the neighborhood. Kristin believe it is possible that the boys break the noise ordinance during their walks about 5 times in each hour long walk. I on the other hand prefer to walk the dogs separately to avoid the stress of them acting out. This is usually successful with Chewie. Gromit tries really hard but we still have our moments and he insists on barking at cars that are noisy? Why they bother him more than his own obnoxious high pitched bark I will never understand.

We also started grooming the dogs ourselves.

This grooming decision has been something of a feat with the boys. I did watch the dvd that came with the clippers and also got a dog grooming for dummies book. I have to say though, there are no examples of Doodles in any books - because they have no breed standard - LOL! There is something very funny about that when I think of Gromit and Chewie because they are not your average doodle either!

They could so care less about looking beautiful. The dogs really have no idea what is going on with this pink clipper situation, but they tolerate it pretty well. Yesterday was a grooming day. All total, it took us about 4 hours to get the boys clipped. We started the night before by brushing Gromit. Then we sat down with Gromit first. That poor guy, he takes forever to trim. He was fairly patient with his face and ears and body. Then we gave him a break and took on Chewie. Now grooming Chewie is kind of funny because he has a really easy coat to brush and groom - but he loves to be brushed - like comes and stands next to you while you are brushing Gromit - "i am here, I am standing, I am ready for you to brush me me me!!" So it is almost like we have to clip Chewie wether he needs it or not just to help with the jealousy of Gromit getting attention that he might not get. He tolerates the grooming pretty well but does not appreciate the noise that the clippers make. He let us get in between his pads and in his ears and down his legs, all the places that really bug Gromit. So Gromit becomes a two session dog. After we finished Chewie we rounded Gromit back up and finished his legs, stomach and feet - he hates having his feet touched so it was a bit of a challenge but we got him done.

Afterwards, Kristin and I looked at the boys - like we have said four times in the past 8 months, we repeated ourselves again - Gromit really needs to go to a groomer, but Chewie looks pretty good. I think if you interpret this correctly what we really meant was - Chewie looks better than Gromit - which does not necessarily mean that he looks good. Who knows, and thank goodness they don't care. They still act just the same after being groomed.

Really though, our metrosexual and marlboro dogs are exhausted after getting groomed. They really wishes we could move faster through this whole process - from their minds eye all of life is the same - "vroom vroom" they love driving life and really do their best to get Kristin and I to put the clipper pedal to the medal - Groom Groom girls - there are so many other things to do!

Calling all Dogs

2010-01-31T16:10:00.014-06:00

I like chocolate. I am not a fancy chocolate person - I like plain milk chocolate - Hershey and M&M's, sometimes Dove, sometimes Cadbury. I don't like to get things mixed up in my chocolate - no nuts, no raisins or other fruit. Just the melt in my mouth sweet buttery inexpensive chocolate. Sure I can go with an expensive chocolate and appreciate it but I don't need it. I get anxious when I find myself in a mysteriously risky situation like a box of chocolates. It makes my crabby when I bite into a piece of chocolate expecting it to melt in my mouth and coat my teeth only to have an unexpected sensation like crunching nuts or oozing raspberry jam.

Chewie has the same preference in tennis balls that I have in chocolate. He likes the actual plain old common tennis balls. He doesn't like the ones that you can buy at the pet stores that come in multiple colors. He likes the Penn or Wilson neon yellow green tennis balls. He will also chase the Chuck It rubber balls. Once he has had a tennis ball in his mouth that is the one he is determined to retrieve for me with every toss. If another dog has a Penn tennis ball it doesn't matter if it has the same number on it as his, he cannot trade it out and he knows if the other dog mixes it up. He wants the ball with his spit on it - no bones about it. He will pick up the other dogs ball and chase after the other dog giving his Chewie eye contact but slow trot generating the stubborn, something isn't right here Chewie sulk to the other dog. He waits for the other dog to drop his ball, sometimes he tosses the one in his mouth at the other dog. With unusual stealth speed as soon as the other dog drops Chewie's ball he races in and picks it up and runs back to me with HIS tennis ball.

Gromit has a whole different concept of the tennis ball. He thinks that take away is a better game and cheats Chewie by running faster with longer lighter legs and grabbing the tennis ball before Chewie can get to it. Then he runs circles, literally, around Chewie until Gromit is bored and drops the ball without care wherever he is so inclined or perhaps at the second his mind moves to the next great game he has in his brain. Poor Chewie just has to follow him until it is dropped, the guy cannot get respect from Gromit here -

There is one type of tennis ball though that Gromit cannot resist. One that keeps even the mighty white dog entertained. It is the Squeaky Ball. All bets are off when the squeaky ball comes out. Gromit loves the squeaky tennis ball. This weekend I took the squeaky ball to the park to help entertain Gromit while Chewie was playing fetch. Just thought Chewie might benefit from a little 'uninterrupted' retrieval time. So about midway through our romp, Gromit got the glean in his eye and ran at me and then paralleled Chewie waiting for me to throw the ball. He was going to steal it - you could just tell.

So I tossed to the ball out over Chewie's shoulder and called Gromit. He snapped his head around when I reached in my pocket and squeezed the special ball - he leapt up in the air and came running. So I tossed it to him. He grabbed it and promptly turned around in a circle squeaking the ball in with his head up and shoulders broad, then facing the park and standing steady - he squeaked at the big field of dogs in the distance like some lion calling his pride. "Squeak - a - squeak - a S Q-U-E-A-K!! - Calling all dogs!" And sure enough, in the ever magical Gromit way - dogs came running - I couldn't help but laugh as dogs came running from all directions - a little Brittany Spaniel whose feet didn't touch the snow until he was close enough to leap at Gromit's face, a Chocolate Lab that you could hear the wind move it was wagging its tail so hard, a yellow lab who like a magnet just couldn't help but come running, and finally barrelling his way over a big Newfie - they all just came racing at Gromit. He was so proud of himself he tossed the ball in the air and...promptly lost it . WHOOPS!

Never Leave a Comrade in the Field

2010-01-24T08:16:00.013-06:00

I sometimes miss attending church - for a lot of reasons, but one of the main ones is that I miss doing group music. I used to accompany three choirs when I was a kid. I loved doing this. I got to accompany the high school musicals - wrote music for other people to sing or play instruments. I enjoyed rehearsal so much more than performing. I learned to watch subtle queues from the directors. Sometimes I would play and daydream a bit and look up and the poor director would be giving me bug eyes while swinging her arms wildly trying to get me to speed up - WHOOPS! I accompanied soloists at church and in competitions, and played duets with my Mom who was the church organist.

A good accompanist learns how to track with whoever you are working with and when I was really doing this a lot I could follow when someone got nervous and skipped a couple of lines - I could just listen and cut through without anyone knowing that anything had gone awry. I could read 8 lines of music at a time and figure out who was having issues and give them their note to bring them back into the group. I knew that the best accompanist was never, ever the focus. The focus was always on the group or the soloist you were backing up. I learned you never, ever finished first. You never leave anyone singing or playing alone on stage without you. If things really go bad, you take the fall - just make it seem like it was your fault.

When I take the dogs to the dog park, I think Chewie thinks he is making me look good. He accompanies me on these outdoor tours and tracks the ball. Gromit is pretty sure he is the show and we are the accompaniment. And while I might have some frightfully poor throws, Chewie maintains the same enthusiasm for me. When I throw the ball where he cannot see it, he puts his tail up in the air and enthusiastically goes about sniffing it out, as though it is his fault he cannot find the ball. We all know darn well that when I am paying attention I aim a throw where he can see it - He will look for a good 15 minutes for that ball, and if I keep walking he will bark at me. Oh, it is painful, he just doesn't know what to do when he can't get the ball back to me - never leave Heidi without the ball - never make Heidi look bad....never leave the park without the ball -
I truly have no idea what happens to him - it isn't like he has ever missed dinner because we left a ball at the park - why does he get so anxious about it? Kristin told me she thinks Chewie sees those balls as comrades, and you never leave them in the field. You never leave the field until you have all your balls....ahem.

Gromit's Stunning Sweetness

2010-01-15T20:08:00.016-06:00

I am a Virgo born in the year of the Ox. I am grounded to the earth right to the core. I think Gromit was born of Fairy Dust - in the year of the Giganticus Butterfly - that boy is all air and lightness. Even his affection is gentle, easy and fleeting. Silly boy!

I am not sure what could be sweeter than Gromit, fluffly white body curled around itself, tail hugging the front of his snout, laying gently on his front paws - eyes closed, and breathing evenly - asleep. When he wakes and puts his head up his hair is flat on one side of his face and his eyes do not open wide for a couple of seconds - looks like a bit like a cartoon.

I adore Gromit - Sometimes I just want to hug him - once in a while I indulge the urge and wrap my arms around his big chest and listen to his breathing, but it is a bit selfish - Gromit prefers his space - and so I try to give it to him and respect this simple request of his...lately he has taken to an evening snuggle - I don't know what this is about - he jumps up on the bed and lies down between Kristin and I and sighs waiting for some nice petting. Then he puts his chin on one of our shoulders and sleeps for about 15 minutes. That is about all he can handle - then he gets up and goes into Kristin's office and snoozes on the couch for the evening.

In the morning he stretches and yawns and groans until I brush my teeth and get dressed. Then he meets me at the top of the stairs. We, Gromit and I, encourage Chewie to go down the stairs as we wait at the top. I give Gromit the signal - a foot forward and I burst out "green light" - and we both start down the stairs and the I say "red light" and he stops and stretches again and waits for a little scratch on the very base of his back. I say green light and down we go, red light, we stop, green light and we both get to the bottom of the stairs. He wakes up this way and goes outside with Chewie. Not sure who likes this routine better, me or Gromit, but he always plays.

The sweetest relationship he has is with one of our cats - Schmadios, our Tortoise. Now both our cats are over 18 years old and weigh less than 10lbs. Schmadios had some strong opinions about our doodles at first. In her opinion she felt like they really were lacking manners and she was a bit put off by the whole addition to the family. She was right and she helped them learn some manners Now though, she and Gromit vie for the attention and evening snuggle. Gromit give her the space she wants and then ever so gently nuzzles that huge nose of his into her ear and licks it. She purrs and spins around to the other side. She can only handle one or two nuzzles and then like Gromit - that is enough and she must get away. But she likes him and talks to him, and sometimes when it is too much she screams at him.

Gromit in all his hugeness, has some pretty impressive small muscle control - he has a stunning sweetness with Schmadios - he sits back and gives her space. He is gentle with his nose, gentle with his breath, light with his tongue and knows when she can't tolerate him. He doesn't want his snuggle at her expense. But he does want her to know he is there - he likes his pack. She, on the other hand, like her posse. Ha - cats and dogs - there in lies the difference!

New Tactics for Big Dogs

2010-01-10T11:37:00.004-06:00

I work as a "technologist" for a financial institution - with a capital I. In the current and most recent economy I feel pretty fortunate to have a job. However, the job has been taking a lot of my time in the past year. I complained that 3 managers used to do the work I am currently managing and swiftly got a promotion, raise - and more responsibility. So I am not inclined to go that route again...

Then there was a reorg and I ended up with a new boss who thinks my hours as well as my team hours are crazy but there is no room for more staff and there will be more work this year than ever before and oh- we have the most complicated system he has ever worked with at the company. I keep trying to track down how to make things to create less craziness for us.

About the time I start to get defeated my team rounds up (16FTE, 20 consultants, and 7 folks in India) and wishes me happy new year with a signed card and hands me a gift certificate - and when they meet my new boss and tell him the thing they like most about their job is the team and that it is well managed. I had to ask them how much I paid them for that response - they laughed - ahem....As they were leaving the room during this meeting I looked at my new boss and said the funny thing is that 75% of the folks that work here work more than 40 hours a week - I silently wondered -how is it that they are still loyal to me? I really want to give people back their lives, and oh by the way, I would like mine back : )

There are so many things about my job that are great. I have a fabulous team and I have a job that makes me think and I am challenged. I do not do well with bored. We work with cutting edge technology but then who doesn't these days? I work with smart people and often have to ask them to slow down for me. I do a lot of translation and push hard to make room for success with my team. I have been able to provide training to everyone on my team this year that makes each one of them more marketable - meaning I actually get to help develop careers - really what else can you ask for? No one is stuck in their job - they are all extremely employable and professional.

Okay, here it is - I would like to spend more time at home with Kristin and Gromit and Chewie and Schmadios and Tiace.

This week I got to take Gromit and Chewie to their first class at the new training building for our instructor. It was pretty fun. Because of the cold weather I had spent time doing ever so slightly extra training with Gromit and Chewie inside. I was surprised to see Chewie really starting to get it - and starting to take off. He did not scold me once in class this week - no lectures as I like to say. He confidently jumped up on the table with just one instruction - amazing for him! He followed me through a few difficult jump sequences too and did weave poles - set of 12 (with barriers).

Gromit was tuned in and followed me through the class. My first indication of truly having his attention was when he stopped at the bottom of the a-frame on the first up and over of it - this is one of the most difficult things for him to do, in my opinion. He loves to go, fast, and show off a bit. He just did so many good things. The errors we had were mostly mine - getting lost on the course, not giving him room to do a broad jump.

They have class on separate nights and it really did make a difference to not have them both in the same building at the same time. I was so much more relaxed. The new building has extra room for crates and getting in and out of the building. The extra training apparently makes a difference. I am not trying to help the dogs be more marketable, but helping them be more successful, like my team at work, makes us all more successful. Getting that team at work a better model for staffing will allow me to get more time for training the dogs. I think I just got motivated for work again.

Brrr, its cold outside and snoringly boring inside!

2010-01-02T17:01:00.012-06:00

Oh, to be a doodle in this frightfully bitter cold winter weather in Minnesota. Today, it was 13 degrees BELOW zero - Farenheit - when we all attempted to wake up this morning - and it is not that the doodles cannot be outside in this weather, it is that it too cold for me.

Chewie and Gromit managed very well with this yesterday and accepted the lot of marrow bones in place of walking on glare ice. They made those bones last as long as they could - clacking their teeth and nails as they moved the bones round and round and pushed their big snouts and tongues in to get as much marrow out as possible.

I played hide and seek with them. They sat and stayed while I ran around hiding treats all over the 1st floor of the house. Then I released them and they rushed to find the treats.

Chewie tolerated the ball being thrown up and down the stairs instead of out in a field.

I recently reconnected with a dear friend who has two busy dogs. She told me her dog kept rolling other dogs and so they couldn't go to the dog park. Then she met Gromit and Chewie - her fear that her dog would roll Gromit was quickly allayed.

Together we planned the meeting - and with the cold weather we decided a dog walk was not going to work, and I thought better to have only one of our dogs meet their dogs at a time. So Gromit piled into the Toaster Mobile (Honda Element) and headed to our friend's house.

The dog meeting didn't go so well. But it wasn't horrible, just not set up well. We met out in the back yard just as one of friend was arriving home. So while one friend was entering the yard from the garage, out comes this big white doodle twice the size of either of the other dogs who were in the yard greeting their person. There enused much canine discussion about what yard and person and house everything belonged with... Really everyone was just trying to sort it out and it was too much for all the dogs and the people too : ). We called off the meeting when one dog came playfully running by Gromit and grabbed Gromit's leg with his mouth. Gromit was astonished to say the least. The dog was trying to play but Gromit was still too unsure and scared. His tail stayed between his legs and he plowed backwards away from the dog barking loudly.

So the new dogs went in to their crates, and Gromit was placed in the kitchen while my friends and I enjoyed a nice cup of warm cider and conversation. I heard a lot of hysterical dog stories about the dogs we just met and caught up on jobs and life and then Gromit and I were on our way. We will meet again, just do some different planning. I have a sense that Frank and Gromit will end up to be good friends - we need to set up some different circumstances for them to meet!

Gromit came home exhausted from this excursion even though he did not get a lot of exercise. Apparently reassessing a pack order is a lot of work for that boy.

We got home to a moping and stewing Chewie. Alas, the ball is not enough - without his Gromit around, Chewie does not know quite what to do - even with his Kristin available, it was just not right and he made no bones about telling Gromit and I.

Within seconds Chewie had forgiven Gromit. They played for a bit. I was still on his grudge list which lasted until dinner - then he forgave me as soon as the scoop of food landed in his dish.

It is really cold outside, but the house if filled still with loyal warmth - lucky us, the doodles still come when we call, sigh when we scratch their ears and sit for a treat.

Getting schooled by the Big Dogs -

2009-12-28T20:53:00.011-06:00

We have spent the last week with a sweet little boxer puppy named Laila. She came to stay with us while her family headed to Indiana for the holiday. She lives with a family of four - mother, father and two boys - plus one old boxer big dog - Otis. With a stay at home Dad and two young boys, this puppy was used to some serious play time. Otis is an older slower dog with the patience of Job - the puppy can crawl all over him and sleep with Otis - but Otis doesn't have a harsh bone in his old boxer body.

When little 5 month old Laila arrived at our house, my first instinct was to scoop her up and protect her from the beastie boys that live with Kristin and I. I held her in my lap and scolded the big dogs for barking and squealing and creating a raucous for this sweet faced doe eyed bag of boxer bones. She has a little under bite in her lips that make her look pouty but put together with that face she just oozed of slightness and frailty.

Laila's Mom told us she was worried Laila would destroy something. She sent Laila with a bag of Natural Balance food and three toys. She told us she didn't think Laila was the smartest dog in the world. She had a hard time leaving that little puppy though, and the 11 yo boy came back to say good bye to his puppy on a second trip to our house before leaving town, and on the second day away he called to see how she was doing while they were gone.

We asked about how long her walks were went - she doesn't walk on a leash yet. She doesn't like it. Does she go to the dog park? Nope, she does not. How does she get exercise we asked? She is a puppy, she must need exercise and our yard is just not big enough, we didn't think. More concerning is the fact that we had no children to tossle around on the floor with little Laila.

As it turns out we had nothing to worry about in terms of exercise. Laila was going to be in school - and Gromit was at the head of the class. It would exhaust her in ways that exercise could not - poor Laila! That big white goof who wormed his way into more hearts riding in the back seat of the car with the passengers and laying his chin on a knee, carefully chewing his bones on his matt and not the carpet - the sensitive white beast that launches himself at breakneck speed but suddenly slows down when he sees an Airdale at the dog park from a distance and realizes her hips aren't quite right and he still greets her just more softly, the same guy who welcomed Chewie by sharing the back seat and his favorite toy in a field on the drive back from Milwaukee - my big white boy became the aloof, mannerly, crabby old man dog. He did not have a minute for the crazy out of control activity of the little boxer puppy.

Chewie tried to follow Gromit's lead on this. He tried for about a day to growl and snark and use his big dog voice to scare the puppy back. And the puppy, in all her sweetness rolled over for him to sniff and curled her little nub of a tail around the end of her butt. And when Chewie would look away that tail would come out and wag and wag. No barking a lot of wagging.

I of course was slightly disgusted with our big dogs. What were they thinking - this was the cutest puppy in the world. So what if she jumped all over us all - and I do mean all of us - she flew through the air at Gromit and Chewie - landing paws on faces. Gromit was appalled to say the least. C'mon though, she was little and boney and you could hardly feel those paws when they landed on you. Give her a break, she is full of energy and joyful.

We fed them separately to avoid the ultimate boundary crossing. I didn't want to witness anything past snarkiness from my big guys - I wanted to still love them in the morning.

Then I remembered something about Gromit and Chewie both that I have written about before in a blog. When they were little puppies - okay, Gromit was never little, but he was a puppy - their friend Just Joe explained manners to them in very simple, quick and single interaction. I don't even remember how it happened just a lot of noise and there were four of us to watch and make sure no one was hurt but none of us were sure what made Joe need to make a correction with Gromit and Chewie - it happened once with each of them, they crossed his boundary once, no one was hurt, no contact was made by any of the dogs and it never happened again and G&C have to this day shown the utmost respect for the shorter figured Jack Russell. Suffice it to say, Just Joe, is not shorter in personality! Also, they play to this day and are very relaxed around each other. Dogs just don't seem to hold grudges.

So I pulled out my book Canine Body Language: A Photographic Guide Interpreting the Native Language of the Domestic Dog by Brenda Aloff. I checked on some of the posturing that was going on at our house trying to figure out if everything was as it should be... Within a couple of days Chewie had mellowed to the point of playing with the puppy and even letting her share his food. The thing that really got them both, was the fact that one of her toys squeaked - they both wanted in on that action and had to let go of the distance. They both played with her, Chewie more than Gromit. And at the end of 10 days, Gromit let her sleep in his favorite chair and he on the floor next to it. They had worked out the rules and she was incredibly respectful of Gromit.

I started to wonder what Gromit thought when he saw the puppy jumping all over me. He doesn't jump all over me. But when he was a puppy he did jump all over me and I learned how to stop this behavior. I bet I looked pretty silly to Gromit letting that puppy jump all over me - so I took a lesson from Gromit - we taught the puppy not to jump on us. I played aloof when she jumped on me. I said absolutely nothing but just turned away and wouldn't look at her - just like Gromit. Walla - it worked.

Then to soothe my human desire to make the sweet puppy feel good, we taught her how to sit. This way we could give her a treat. It was very fun. This Gromit could get behind and he did - he lined right up for treats.

I refused to make an attempt to make any of those growling noises or curl my lip or even bark loudly. Just doesn't seem like good human manners - something I learned from my mother not Gromit.

Winter Dogs

2009-12-11T19:16:00.008-06:00

We had our first snow of the season early in December. We are about to get our first big storm. It was a good amount of snow, not too much not too little - about 6 inches or so. It came and with wind and blustery weather. The next day brought brittle cold and sunshine. I love the sunshine on a fresh snow before anyone wakes up and starts walking on it - you can see little bird feet prints in the snow and drifts showing the path of the wind. In the first few hours of the morning after a big snow, you can see the sunrise and reflection of the sun off the crystals of ice that form on the top layer of the snow. It looks smooth and soft like a down comforter cover - soft, light and warm.

Snow is a funny thing - just water frozen in the atmosphere and drifting down to earth - in the summer it would be rain. I have lived in three places with snow. Iowa and Minnesota both have snow, but the winters in Iowa were always different. Cold and gray but not very much snow and most of it wet and sticky and thick - heavy with humidity. In Minnesota the snow varies from light and fluffy to heavy and wet. In Antarctica the snow was dense and dry and heavy. The snow drifted on forever and the patterns of the wind were always on the top of a drift. You could see it as it swept over the glaciers.

As a kid we would build forts out of snow. We would build caves with rooms and have snowball fights. We would lay in the snow and make snow angels - swinging our arms and legs out beside us. My uncle would take us to the camp across the way and toboggan with us. I also learned as a child and an adult how to skate with my dad holding my hands and skating backwards while I wobbled. I have strong memories of putting on my skates at the warming house, using my finger holding my brothers crosses as he laced up his hockey skates.

I have very dear friends who live between Duluth and Two Harbors in the woods. I have had the privilege of taking care of their house when they travel. I have helped build their sunroom, their greenhouse and watched the barn and welding room go up. I have helped plant the spring gardens and chase the neighbors ferrel cows from the yard while enjoying a grilled vegetable harvest dinner in the late summer. I have helped check and feed the hives of bees. I was willing to save the bees from the bear that we chased from their backyard. Let it be known that I took a cast iron skillet to scare the bear - they took a single shot in a shotgun - just to scare it not to shoot it. Molly and I took GPS and hiked to the highest point of the property. Then back along the river returning to the house. I have enjoyed skating quietly alone on winter nights on their pond and snow shoeing with their dogs just the three of us, listening to the river run under the ice even, trickling along in February.

February is when my friend turned 50. Her partner gave her an outside camera that is motion sensitive and takes pictures in light or darkness. It came with a bear safety box. On the weekend we celebrated her birthday, the dogs and six of our friends snow shoed out to place on the many acres of woods they live in and place the camera on a tree and set it for taking pictures of unknown but soon to be discovered wildlife. We had a wonderful sunny hike - six of us and six dogs. We set the camera and took a few pictures to make sure it was working and then went on our hike. We found the pine grove. The dogs jumped on the back of the snow shoes and ran ahead to sit and pull off the snow balled in their paws. Their tales swayed back and forth and the bumped into each other and bowed and barked at each other. I do sometimes love the winter. Nothing as pretty as green pines, straight and tall and full and fresh against a soft heavy winter snow, good friends and good dogs.

As an adult, I learned how to cut snow blocks and stack them to make a safe harbor in a storm - survival training in Antarctica. I learned how to power up your stomach with butter and chocolate when you were cold. I could light a tiny stove in the wind and cold in order to melt snow and have water to survive in the event that you were isolated from assistance. I slept on the Ross Ice shelf with a team of others learning winter survival skills. I learned to work and move to stay warm but to minimize sweat.

Our dogs are winter hardy. They love the winter and are fine in the cold weather. They play and run in the cold. Gromit will run and leap through drifts of snow. Chewie loses his ball a little more often in the cold but is still dedicated to finding it and returning it to me. They both have a lot of extra energy in the winter snow and cold.

I am not thinking that Chewie nor Gromit spend time looking at the all the blues in the snow when the sun hits it - I think they do have that same sense of playfulness that comes out in many of us when there has been a snow storm. They run and slide and laugh as they play together. They leave their foot prints in the snow and when they run by me the snow flies in my face. They leave their deep chest prints in the snow and their elbow marks when they lay down. They eat the snow and sniff the snow. They chew the snow out of their paws. They are always happy to go snow shoeing with us - at the golf course across the river from our house or the woods at my friend's house. They are happy to be with us.

When we hiked out a couple days later to get the camera and look at the pictures before we left my friend's house, as we looked over the photos we laughed realizing most of the pictures were practice ones and then a couple of the dogs playing that had set off the motion detector. I don't think the dogs wonder what has been in the snow, or what animals play in the woods - they see it with their noses, they knew where the bear hibernated and they found the prints left by the birds and the trails for the wood mice. Gromit and Chewie - they are okay with winter. They make it a bit more fun and a lot warmer.

The Teachers Gift

2009-12-02T20:18:00.015-06:00

http://www.twincities.com/localnews/ci_13904610

When I first walked into MacPhail Center for the Arts in downtown Minneapolis I felt awkward and a little unsure and excited. It was the late 1980's. I had called MacPhail and talked with the intake person to see if there was someone that could help me continue studying piano. I explained that I had studied since I was 6 and studied through college. I was looking for someone to help me keep playing but most important I wanted someone who could help me keep learning. I was given a name of a teacher who interviewed me and so I "auditioned" for him - Gary Sipes.

He was a tall thin man, with high cheek bones, lanky but a fine build and fine taste - in music, in teaching, in his life partner and in his clothes - understated and always proper and oh yes he had incredible hands.

He had a corner office on the second floor. As you walked through the main hallway there were parents waiting for children sitting outside studios, and you could hear muffled sounds of vocalists warming up, flutes or drums, or violins - or whatever else you can imagine. Then you would reach the end of the hall and take a left. He had the back studio in the corner.

When I walked into Gary's studio I felt like I walked into a Salvador Dali painting. I mean it in a good way though - like you walked through the door to his office and stepped off into a different world that didn't need any support from the real world. His studio was littered with scented candles and incense. The pianos in his studio - both Steinway grand pianos were set perpendicular. He had music everywhere, some stacked nicely in hand made mini chests of drawers and some stacked next to his piano bench and some stacked in the corner. There were always a couple of big green plants. The ceilings were high and the windows were big and tall. He had windows all along the outside corner. He would often sneak a cigarette between lessons. There was no smoking allowed in the building hence the candles and incense. It always made me smile a bit. Sure I know smoking was terrible for his health, but he he had tried so many times to quit. He would complain about getting caught smoking and starting a fire in the dumpster outside and below his studio. There was something in his rebellious nature that was charming. He had a wonderful sense of humor. Frankly, they just couldn't stop him - he was fairly unstoppable. And - I adored him for it.

I studied twice with Gary. The first time I worked my way through the fundamentals of all the scales multiple octaves, major, minor, octaves, 2 against 3, right had staccato left hand legato, left hand loud-right hand soft, in thirds, sixths - AND I learned about Rachmaninoff and Mozart and Chopin and pushed a foray into Debussy and Prokofiev. I was a much better piano player than I had been. I was sharper, more confident and more educated.

The second time I studied with Gary I learned about Chopin and Liszt and the English Suites - Bach, and some very fun Czech duets. Gary was very proper on process and very glib in his humor. He did not mince words and I trusted his music sense like no one I studied with before. I never worried about his critique - I just foraged more into the music because when I got it, when I really learned it, when I knew each measure and each note in each measure and how important each note was or not important - when I had all this and Gary might say very nonchalantly - I can tell you have practiced or that was very nice - it was like I imagine winning a Grammy award might feel like. But the best part was that I could hear it myself, he taught me to see music and play music and hear music.

Gary wasn't just any teacher. He taught gifted students who went on to Julliard and Oberlin. He also taught adult students like me. He loved music and piano. He would share tapes and ideas with me and I imagine with all his students. He would hold practice recitals in his studio for us. His students won things and he won awards for his teaching. He played for me and with me. He helped my Mom and I play a duet one year. 50 years after she studied at MacPhail she came down and he talked us through music together and we played on the same stage together.

Here are some things Gary said to me that took me to the next level -

- I heard a piece today and I just thought about you and I am wondering if you like it and might want to play it

- I can't wait to hear what you will do with this piece

- You must be pretty proud of yourself.

Piano gave me a lot of things in life - and Gary made those things grow about ten fold. He helped me learn how to learn about music, he gave me confidence. He taught me how to stand up after performing and bow. He taught how to move my fingers. He was always at the back of the auditorium when you finished playing at a recital. He introduced me to people that worked all day and wanted to play piano. He listened when I played and sometimes it was painful for him and he would tell me that and he would also tell me when it was wonderful. What can I say about that ? except thank you for the gift of music my fine teacher - thank you Gary -

Scat on the Nature Walk

2009-11-28T08:27:00.004-06:00

In 7th grade all students were required to attend winter camp for a week. So----All 250 in their prime of adolescence kids piled into a few buses and screamed our way to camp.

Once there we participated in the usual camp hazing - the camp leaders told stories about a man that lived forever on the property and still lurks to this day in the gullies and behind trees. Then on our way back to our cabins for the night walking through the woods, everyone was scared. The counselors would jump out and grab screaming girls.

There was also the Little Red Suzy game. A clothespin painted red was attached to some unsuspecting kid at meal time. If you found it on you the game was to attach it to someone else without them knowing. At the end of every meal whoever had it attached to their clothes had to stand up and do some humiliating thing in front of everyone - sing the alphabet song backwards, do a cartwheel or something. It was all in good fun and made meal time especially tense so you didn't want to stay around for long. Maybe they didn't have enough food for all of us?

There were fun things like learning how to cross country ski and intertubing down iced hills. And there were the nature hikes where we learned how to identify scat from different animals. Yep you thought the scary guy was bad - imagine our biology teacher walking a bunch of 13 year olds through the woods looking for scat in the winter cold - then looking through it to see if there were seeds, or maybe fur - how big was the scat, was it pellets, soft or solid shaped, what color was it? Those biology teacher lead hikes did influence my ability to slow down and see things on my walks today.

The other night I was out on a jog with a friend and we heard a Barred Owl - here you can hear it too - cut and paste this link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fppKGJD3Y6c We stopped jogging and started walking trying to find the owl. We located it high up in an old tree. There it was right in our neighborhood. It was too dark to take a picture not too dark to stop and listen and try to find the owl.

Living along the river has its wildlife benefits - we have seen coyote, raccoons, fox, wild turkeys and my personal favorite - huge bald eagles on their migrations in the spring and fall. They stop for a little fishing and rest over night. They are so big when I am close to them. I realize how big and strong are those talons.

With all this wildlife yo might think I am a regular scat lurking hiker. Ahem - regarding scat in our neighborhood - I would have to say that I am much more graceful about finding animal scat outside my house than I am about finding it in my house. Squirrels belong in trees and not in my garage - car storage is not a natural habitat for wildlife. And I would like to say that our bedroom and down comforter are keeping us warm.

At our last house we put in two sky lights when we renovated the attic into a master bedroom suite. One in the bathroom and one in the bedroom. I will never forget the two of us in that attic on the 4th of July. We stood drenched in sweat, Kristin hanging on to the sawzall looking at the ceiling which was the roof. She measured and marked once and then again and then we poked that sawzall through the roof and put a hole in the ceiling....hours later we had a sky light. A month later we still held our breath every time it rained - crossing our fingers that we would not get dripped on while we slept.

One fall night, it was rather warm and we had opened the sky light. It had a screen so bugs would no get in, but the cool air would drift down and create a little circulation in the room. At about midnight our dog Rowdy Ann started barking. I woke up to see her chasing a cat. This was not something she did without a little encouragement from the cat, but this was Newt and she was more interested in being invisible than being chased...and so I told Rowdy rather of matter of factly to stop and go back to sleep. Then I hit the pillow with my head. Again she was barking, this time she woke up Kirstin and we turned on the light... and I raised my voice, "Rowdy, come here" leave the cat alone. I could probably count on my hand the number of times I had to raise my voice with Rowdy to get her attention. I looked up and there under an end table was a raccoon peering back at us while Rowdy arced around him barking, barking. She turned to come to us and when she had our attention she ran back - "See you guys, see, this is not a member of our family..look, look" Finally we saw the raccoon. It had fallen through the sky light from the roof.

Once we heeded Rowdy's warning we contacted Animal Control and asked for a hand. At first they told us to wait until morning to call pest control and right before they hung up the asked us to tell them again where the animal was - when they realized it was in our living space they sent an officer to our house. I was pretty mad at Kristin because she made me get off the bed and go downstairs while we waited...I really thought it was very logical that the raccoon would leave us alone if we stayed on the bed - can you say Lucy Ricardo? The poor raccoon, I don't think he had any intention of dropping into our bedroom. To this day we wonder if the animal control guy walked outside and let the raccoon go in our front yard. Needless to say there was scat all over our house by the time he left us. I have a good idea of what fresh raccoon scat looks like and smells like, alas.

I have always been grateful that Rowdy did not go after that raccoon. I don't know why she didn't but maintaining the arc and keeping it cornered was all we needed - nothing more. She was did not have the same restraint with squirrels and we never tested her prey drive around rabbits. Once we realized her skill and efficiency with the squirrels we didn't chance things. She was a hunting dog - she may have had terrier, she surely had lab in here and most likely some shepherd. She was a canine. We could never deny her this.

Gromit considers all creatures with the exception of Great Danes, to be potential friends and in want of a good game of chase or be chased. Now that is not to say that the way he goes about this is all that appropriate. I will say that many dogs come running at him that are a 1/4 of his size and I don't understand it - because he will ALWAYS play. The miniature pinschers, the ridgebacks, the aussies, the shelties, the jack russels, the little lab mixes - what are they thinking? And then I watch Gromit bow at their feet and bark waiting for the little dog to accept the invitation. I watch for a couple of minutes and as soon as the running starts I call off Gromit - those little guys just don't understand what it takes to stop a locomotive and it is a lot more space than it takes to stop a litle sheltie! I love to watch him play, but mostly with his friends Emme and Chewie - they are about the right size. Hunting though, not Gromit's gig. He is more interested in the meet, socialize and see who can run the fastest.

Chewie, on the other hand, is afraid of all things unknown that are man made, but give that dog the woods with earthy smell of fox dens and goose nests and his nose will be to the ground and his tail twirling above the swampy reeds. He has a pension for laying in pond scum with a little bit of muck. He takes note of scurrying but is more focused on tracking the next tennis ball. For all I know he thinks some big Tennis Bird lays those balls because he looks for them wherever we go. He is our warning dog though. He does not bark with as many voices as Gromit, he barks with intent and because there is clearly something I need to hear.

They both notice things I cannot notice when we are out in the woods. Gromit with his incredible ability to see motion and Chewie with his focused black nose always on to a scent. They always find the scat before I do - maybe I didn't listen well enough in that 7th grade nature hike - it was too cold. LOL

Letting Go

2009-11-19T18:25:00.000-06:00

I have this memory from when I was about 5. We lived in Bloomington, MN an original suburb. It is a memory where I leaped through a second into a whole new world of independence. It was one of those moments when I had to let go of my fear and try something all on my own. On the other side was the sweet reward of self confidence. It happened when my dad let go - he asked me if I was ready, and ran a little further beside me and then he let go, he let go of the back of my bicycle seat and I was pedaling on my own, no training wheels - all by myself. I must have smiled a smile bigger than my entire face. I remember having a little kid feeling of "I can do it, I can do it, I am doing it. Look at me." How do parents do it? They know things, they love their kids and they have to love them enough to let go, over and over again. And they help you build the confidence and encourage you to keep stepping out. Letting go of my seat on my bike, I imagine was probably as fun for my Dad as it was for me. It was the beginning of a life long love of biking.

2 years later, we lived in Davenport, IA. It was a new little development called Kimberly Village. We lived about a block away from the village pool and across the street from a creek. For my birthday I got a bike with three speeds. It was purple and had a sparkly purple banana seat. The shift for the speeds was on the handle bars. The pedals were white and plastic. It was the best bike in the neighborhood. I would spend hours on my bike. I would ride it up the hill to the pool and race down the hill to the park on the creek. I took clothes pins and attached playing cards to the spokes so that it clicked when I pedaled. I went on adventures all by myself, riding around the neighborhood with no one but me. I loved it.

When I was 14 or so and we had moved to Minnesota and back to Iowa again, I was given a 10 speed bike. It was gold with a small black seat and drop bars. This was a whole new biking experience. I loved this bike. I rode it everywhere. My friend Jana and I would take long bike rides with her family or with the church group. One day she call me and asked if I wanted to bike across the river to her the shop that her dad owned. She said it would be fun, we could see how many horns we could get to honk at us. So away we went halter tops and Nair short shorts shorts - oh, those were different days -

Then I went to college and moved to Minneapolis. I bought a red Raleigh 14 speed bike for city biking. I would leave for hours riding the lakes and parkways. Sometimes I would meet someone out in the farm roads and bike the rolling hills in Wisconsin. I went without a car for a summer and biked everywhere working two jobs at a time. My red Raleigh was stolen and I was heart broken. So I bought a cross over road/racing bike - a blue Raleigh Perigee. It lived through several triathlons with me. I put a computer on it and became obsessed with cadence and strength. I lifted weights and worked my cadence and biked on the weekends. I biked places and locked up my bike and went for a swim in a lake or a run around a lake. I sought out hills in the city that I could bike up for a workout. I watched my cadence and shifting....never go below 60-70 rotations per minute....I found the Luce Line and the Stillwater trails. On the weekends I would throw my bike out the back door, grab a Power Bar, water down some Gatorade and take a couple of bucks and leave. I plugged in my headphones and biked as fast as I could. I biked often enough and in enough places to eventually get accosted by enough men that I was no longer afraid. I wasn't stupid but I wasn't afraid.

I put a rack on it and went on bike trips with my friend Molly. We packed our tent, camping gear and food on the bikes, left our cars and biked the north shore and the south shore of Lake Superior. We biked through central Minnesota. We camped and hiked. I became proficient at changing bike tires. I became more independent and sure. I have memories of hiking state parks in full moons without a flashlight. Sweet memories of hiking over a hill in Canada through unbelievably thick swarms of mosquito's to an overlook while a hawk whistled above us circling and hunting over the view. I have memories of stopping to by an ear of corn at lunch and sitting on a high piece of rock along Lake Superior and eating raw corn watching rock climbers go up and belay down the sheer face of the rock. I remember being blown around by log trucks and desperately trying to keep up with my friend Molly. I remember how incredible rice cakes, tahini and peanut butter tasted during a break. I figured out how to use little stoves and survived.

It was my friend Molly that introduced me to Off Road Biking. I loved it - to ride quietly through the woods. The first time we went to a place in Wisconsin to a forest where there were miles and miles of trails for all different skill levels. We accidentally rode onto a difficult trail - steep hills and single track, rocks - we screamed and laughed and were exhausted at the end of the day. Kristin took me back to this forest for a birthday a few years later and we started biking together. I like my mountain bike. I like biking and I like biking with Kristin and my friends.

My dad had to let go of the back of my seat - he had to let me go and trust that I would be okay - that he had given me enough confidence to keep on going. I might fall, I probably would fall, in fact I did fall. I was okay. He had to know that I could keep moving forward and making mistakes and hope that I would learn from making mistakes. When I fell I would be able to get up. At some point he must realize that I would never be done. That he couldn't be invested what I would be only what I was in the moment what we had right then when he let go of the seat. How much he gave me when he let go of the bike.

Every time I go to agility class I have to let Gromit take a chance and try - and sometimes I let go and he misses. Sometimes I am so focused and think he has to do it my way or no way. Sometimes I forget that what I really want is for him to have amoment of fun, every moment to be fun. We will never be done - with agility or being together and dancing around the world. It is safe in our house and our fenced yard. It is relaxing for us all. Gromit is not satisfied with a fenced yard and picture window. He likes new things and old dog friends. He likes great smells. He likes a walk in the woods in the moonlight and a walk in the woods in the rain. He likes to run through the snow and the water. He likes to run as much as I liked to bike. He likes to stop and check changes in familiar places - an old frisbee or ball that someone left at the dog park, a dog treat left under his favorite sleeping spot in the house. I had to let go of trying to make him think only what I wanted him to think - I had learn how to see him think. It was such a different concept for me. I don't know why - it was how I learned.

Wonderland

2009-11-14T08:53:00.000-06:00

"I knew who I was when I woke up this morning but I seem to have changed several times since then." - Alice, Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll

This morning I watched a documentary on Roky Erickson. Apparently Roky was one of the musicians who created a new genre of music from Austin, TX that he named psychedelic music. I am thinking that most would give San Francisco's music scene credit for this genre but Roky was one of the originals. I listened intently because I don't recognize his name. Like Janis Joplin, he helped put Austin on the music map. Unlike Janis, he is still alive. Turns out he has been diagnosed with a form of schizophrenia. ugh Genius and self torture - do they always walk in the same soul?

The story of Ram Dass - Be Here Now- came flooding back to my mind. Those days of psychedelic experimentation behind locked doors under the guise of science...then the days and journey of an entirely different discovery. I was not part of them - I was a kid but they happened around me. Whatever you call it there are some artists that are still here sharing their new creative genius and some whose genius is shared only through old recordings or covers and new interpretations.

Made me remember walking through the Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris - the cemetery where Frederic Chopin, Jim Morrison, Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas, Oscar Wilde, Isadora Duncan, Victor Hugo all laid to rest in the same few blocks of Paris. We walked from the lip stick imprinted monument of Oscar Wilde's grave to Poulenc on to Chopin....I felt like I was having a melt down in my brain trying to bring the artist timeline into one moment, one walk. Chopin and Jim Morrison. And thinking about Gertrude and Alice and their time in Paris. All these artists - writers, composers - all progressive at their own time - all on the pique of some genre - all peers with other great people. Think about it - Mozart and Chopin both so broke and broken down after writing all the incredible music - their funerals were but minimal ceremony.

According to the documentary Roky is creating music again now thanks to his younger brother, research and much better treatment options, and Roky's ability to seek out treatment that actually helped him. Roky was awarded 2007-2008 Musician of the Year at the Austin Music Awards.

It is just interesting to me how things change, times change and we pull them through into our time - many times history repeats itself but with musical genres we do continue to move forward - the day John Cage died I marked it privately - no one around me had any idea who he was - and while I didn't necessarily find his music easy to listen to, I had been fortunate enough to be introduced to his concepts in high school and college. He moved us on - when Schoenberg introduced an idea and will always remain a part of musicologists intellectual study, Cage opened up an entire genre - electronic music that once started could not be contained in a classroom or lab.

Well - I have gone too far away. I am not looking for any genius in our pets but I will say with each addition to our family another genre began and we could never go back. I cannot ever imagine getting enough time with any of our pets. Right now we live with two 19 year old kitties...and it still seems like yesterday when they arrived. It is only when I think about what has happened since they have been a part of my life that I add incredible depth to our relationship of time. I do not think our cats or dogs go back and review things. One thing I adore about our dogs, is that they don't worry a lot about bringing anything to the present they are in the present. Hungry, tired, or needing a good belly rub - those are the options! Oh maybe retrieving a ball?? yeah, yeah, yeah!!

So I have wondered once in a while what catalyst makes the ever being in the present look different to them. Like why all of a sudden did Gromit start barking at men? He has lived with my brother, we have men next door, he visits with my dad, it isn't like we don't have men for friends - what changed for him? And why does our cat Tiace suddenly after years of sleeping on our bed start sleeping on Kristin's computer? Or why every 4-5 years has she decided for a week or two that she prefers some place other than the litter box for her business - one time it was the dog dish, another time the shower, and once she chose to walk down to the basement from the second floor to pee on concrete - what the heck? Upstairs she has an entire litter box room! Silly cat, each time we could redirect her, but what changed that all of a sudden the litter box wouldn't do? At the age of about 5 Rowdy Ann started to be afraid of thunderstorms. At the age of three, Chewie started swimming - why then? Or, when did Gromit decide it was okay to jump the child gate?

I like the genre we are in - the one Chewie started - when he arrived we became a balanced house - 2 people, 2 cats, and 2 dogs - everyone had someone - no one was alone. Chewie brought a sense of the earth and grounding to us. Gromit brought air, I can think of no other way to describe it. Tiace and Schmadios - they do a lot of channeling - however, it is difficult to figure out what they are channeling - just such intentional comfort they seek - in a lap, on a pillow - and then they start purring - energy, light energy everywhere. Sweet cats.

Gromit, Chewie, MInneapolis

2009-11-09T22:15:00.000-06:00

I really enjoy living in Minneapolis. Like Minnesotans who assume I grew up on a farm just because I tell them I went to school in Iowa, I know some people think of Minnesota as one big season of winter cold and snow. I like the snow, I do okay with the cold. I have a hard time with the short days and darkness sometimes. I know that we have something to do with this perception - we talk about the weather all the time.

The people that call Minnesota a fly over state, though, they don't know some of our secrets. I have memories from childhood of driving into South Minneapolis as the highway turns into Cedar Avenue over Lake Nokomis and then over Minnehaha Creek, taking a left on the parkway that curves and winds, traveling with the creek. Turning on 13th Ave, huge elm trees arched over the streets, turning right because it is the only direction you can turn, up a steep hill and there on the left a block and half from the creek. is my great grandparents house - Carl and Marie. The house is still owned by my great aunt Gladys. A medium stucco Tudor bungalow. The kitchen has a tiny breakfast nook with a table and built in phone cubby. The house- like so many American bungalows - has two bedrooms in the back of the house with a bathroom in between. A small hallway and dining room off the kitchen with a living room in the front of the house. A fireplace and warm red oriental floor rugs covering oak wood floors. The house always smelled like pipe and sweet cookies and coffee - at least to me.

As teenagers my sister and I used to go visit my aunt and uncle who lived about 5 blocks away on the other side of the creek. These were our young, hip and groovy aunt and uncle who were always on to the trends - first to start disco dancing, always gave us great clothes for birthdays, first health nuts in the family. They took vitamin E and read Prevention Magazine before it was popular. Lisa and I would visit for a week and during the day while they went to work we would hang out playing tennis or biking on paths along the creek. The paths followed the creek from lake to lake and back to the creek. Crossing over the creek on wooden creaking bridges past ducks and big houses to parks filled with joggers and roller skaters. At the lakes would be sail boats, swimmers, games of volley ball and sun tanning people. Sometimes there would be a concert at the band shell around Lake Harriet or a play in the park. Following the creek in another direction would take you to where the water rolled over a cliff at Minnehaha falls where it joins the confluence of the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers.

Today the pathways are still in heavy use. Instead of roller skaters there are roller bladers and along with the sail boats are wind surfers. No motor boats are allowed so you see kayaks and canoeists. Walking around the lake is a common activity and they are often busy and great people watching. The bike path extends around the city including the 20 miles of river out of our front door. When you bike downtown along the Mississippi you can see the old flour mill silos and stone arch bridge. There will be groups of Segways and lot of people drinking coffee and walking dogs.

Across the river from us is a private golf course. In the winter we snow shoe and cross country ski in the course. The dogs love to race around in the snow for a good hour. We stay away from the greens and watch the kids going down the big sledding hill. When you get to the very top of the golf course which is built into a hill, you can turnaround and see the city and the river.

The other direction along the river, past Minnehaha park takes you to a 4.5 acre dog park with a large sand beach and woodsy paths. Gromit loves to race around on the paths, through the woods, over fallen trees and prancing through little creeks and into the river. Chewie loses his ball more often in this park, but he still loves the water and the loamy smelly woods. While he loses the one we enter the dog park with, he usually replaces it somewhere along the walk. On a Sunday morning you can see families and dogs and first dates around every corner without feeling crowded. The big trees and the sand bottoms are easy on the joints. Gromit and Chewie don't know this but whenever we go to the river dog park a bath always awaits their return to the house. Still I think they like living here. They get to run like the wind for an hour each day and sleep like a log in a typical Scandinavian bungalow. We watch the river through four seasons. We know when the eagles are hunting our part of the river on their journey north in the spring or south in the fall. We watch the squirrels get fat in the fall and dig up the tulips in the spring. We listen to the crew as they row by us on our morning walks along the river.

I think Gromit and Chewie like Minneapolis too.

Compassion

2009-11-05T21:16:00.000-06:00

When we hear the other person's feeling and needs, we recognize our common humanity. -- Marshall Rosenberg

Empathy lies in our ability to be present. -- Marshall B. Rosenberg

A few years ago I took a training on communication that was based on Marshall Rosenberg's Non-violent Communication Practices. "... It is also known as Compassionate Communication, because it's about learning to listen more compassionately, and to speak in ways that are likely to inspire compassion in others. "

When I took this training I felt like my principles met my practices and choices about how I viewed the world became more apparent. I learned that to connect with someone it can help to let go of what the outcome of our connection might be. I also learned that seeing the other person's needs and connecting and meeting my needs were not exclusive. Opportunities to connect with the world instead of disengaging opened up to me. The concepts were simple and yet I found practicing them to be more difficult. I continued the study in a practice group cofacilitated by a certified trainer and an intern.

One day Kristin and I were having a disagreement about something. I can't remember exactly what it was but I remember we were both just digging in - I think I wanted to stop and pick up a card for a birthday party we were attending. I beieve my thoughts went something like this "she always calls me the ambassador of good will but she won't let me stop and let me pick out a card - this is a part of who I am she must be against me..." Oh, yeah, I just have to confess I do go this far in my thinking - I get all the way to the person who has lived with me for 13 years must be against me because I can't stop to pick out a birthday card on my way to this party.

On the other hand I can tell you that Kristin was visibly anxious and we were both a bit huffy, so to speak - I really wanted my way about this - I didn't want to show up with nothing after being graciously invited to celebrate a birthday.

So I was sitting in my bitterness thinking, I don't want to go to a party in a huffy mood - I also don't want to go in a false happy mood, and then it occurred to me, I wanted to go to the party WITH Kristin. I have to say I am still a little moved by how much kind of flooded forward when I started to try to see things from Kristin's perspective. I really felt myself shifting inside and forgot about the card and the party at all - I was more concerned that Kristin might be sitting on all the things she had to do and was trying to contain her needs around this.

As I let go of stopping to pick something up for the party - I looked up asking Kristin if she was worried about all the things she had to do and Kristin burst into tears. As soon as I started thinking about all the things she had one her plate I started to feel more connected with her and then making an extra stop seemed less important. As we talked we ended up in a compomise - leaving the party at a specific time so Kristin could count on getting home early enough. I stopped to pick up a card and we left on time and we went to the party closer and clearer. This small interaction changed our connection - it was probably only about 10 minutes of our time together. It opened up quite a bit more though.

Now this may or may not have much to do with Gromit and Chewie. I will say that in agility it is suggested that you walk every course at least three times - once to understand the flow, once to see the course from your dogs view and once to make a plan for how you will partner through the course. Gromit sees many things I miss, his brain is just faster than mine about some things. Chewie focuses in on things much more than Gromit - and is able to keep distractions at bay. I have a sense that Gromit will be fast and Chewie will be precise. Between the three of us we will git'er done -

I have tried to do enough reading to understand the world from the mind of a dog. I have found though, that you can only go so far with this. The dog's mind appears to be quite specific to the namesake. I have to see an agility course from Gromit's eye and physical attributes differently from Chewie's eye and physical attributes. So it is with all games. Gromit plays games quicker and likes to change it up. Chewie likes to play the same game until he drops from exhaustion. Then he smiles as he pants with a big hot tongue hanging out of his mouth. And understanding this helps me understand each of their motivation. The fun part - if the treats are good enough, they will both pay attention to my driving directions. The right treats appear to be the way to keep the peace on our team.

The Lab Class

2009-11-01T08:06:00.000-06:00

Early on in my collge days I realized that I liked playing piano for fun and not for a living so I changed schools and studied what in those days was called computer science. Eventually I ended up with a Therapuetic Recreation focus of study. As I was busy winding my way through various degree programs I avoided science lab classes at all costs. Maybe it is my bad vision, or my years of looking at black and white notes on paper, but microscopes have always gotten the best of me. I find it interesting but identifying things with one eye under pressure made me hallucinate - alas, what I saw under the microscope. was never on the test or the slide. There are many ways that people have blocks - I have microscope and lab blocking. The only reason I got through chemistry and biology classes in high school were my lab partners. I owe them still - LOL!

There was no way out of college without a lab class - I had to pick one - biology, chemistry or physics - ugh! I waited until my very very last quarter in college to take general education lab class. I finally settled on Physics and signed up for the class as pass fail and independent study. I had spent 4 years strategizing which lab class to take. This class called for three labs in order to get a pass. Even then I waited until the last possible week to take the lab test. I did fine with the self paced exams.

So just to make it clear how afraid of the labs I was - I waited until the last week of my entire college career to complete the general education requirements - in other words if I failed, I was not going to be done. I just had to add some pressure to myself.

As the final week came up and I had to find the lab room. I pathetically asked my good friend to go with me. I just knew I could screw this up - but I picked a time when there was a lab assistant so I could ask questions if I needed help. I ate a jar of peanut butter, met up with my friend and headed to the science building. We found the lab in the basement of the building. So there we were, in the lab room - and the labs had plastic cards with numbers to identify which exercise it was - I found all three stations I needed to complete to get a PASS and a diploma. I went to the first one - I had to measure a block of wood to tell the difference between centimeters and inches - to understand the metric system of measuring - WHAT? Didn't everyone do this in grade school?? Got that one done - but I had to measure it a few times just to make sure I was right....

The second and third labs were not that different - use a stop watch to measure the time lag in communications between the moon, Houston and the Kennedy Space Center - it was pre-recorded on tape. The third lab was a sound waves exercise using a pipe and water.
Frankly, I was a bit appalled at the cost of this class and that it was a higher education course. It worked for my pinch but I would not say it added any educational value to my life.

What was the real lesson? Procrastination really took a lot more energy than hitting this challenge head on would have required. I have found this true in training Gromit and Chewie for agility. Better to dig in and do the activities you are dreading - the longer I waited to train, the longer it took to train the behavior - I know - DUH!

I found Foundations to be fun for a bout 3 months. I could enjoy in that time all the skills required to solidify the foundations of agility. I learned how to use a clicker and trained Gromit to make toast - yep, he would press a little button on a toaster down - very fun trick! Then we had to start doing the contact game. The goal was to teach your dog to pay attention to their back feet and recognize when their back feet were on a board. They eventually would do it when moving forward and backward, but you start with backward. I started to get some performance anxiety early on whenever a lesson took more than a class for us to get. Here I was in a class with people that go to nationals and I have am trying to have a hobby I share with my dogs. How much time did they spend training? I had no idea, but I constantly felt like while I might have worked with Gromit on contacts and front and rear crosses - it never showed in class. It started to be kind of a joke with my good friend and I - I was kind of feeling like the remdial student. Eventually I realized most people/dogs teams had their challenges and most students I was in class with had mulitple dogs and more experience than I did with training for agility. We were not totally lame. Poor Gromit, I eased up on him and started to look at my own training faults. I wanted him to keep having fun. So I decided my new goal was to work his contacts first every time we worked and then I could do the more fun stuff. The trick was to make sure Gromit had as much fun playing contacts as he did with the jumps and front and rear crosses. Once we got contacts we could start doing all kinds of fun stuff - the dog walk, the a-frame and the teeter. Gromit did get it and today he proudly shows Chewie how to do contacts and barks little helpful hints when Chewie is missing the concept.

Another summer of Foundations just ended - Chewie and I are still working on Foundations - but instead of avoiding it I use if to solidify Gromit's skills at the same time as developing Chewie's. It makes for a lot of successful training and a lot of treats - and this means Gromit and Chewie are much more interested in playing games with me - sometimes they like to play games together without me - we are still working on a team name and logo...LOL!

The Game of Human Checkers

2009-10-31T14:50:00.000-05:00

Kristin and I met over the phone while I was in Antarctica. I had been given a leave of absence from my drop in center job to work on the ice - kind of a sabbatical so to speak. When it was time to start preparing to return I called and talked to this new coordinator who was hired and started a week after I left.

When I returned from the ice and started working at the drop in center again, I met Kristin in person. While I was gone there had been some good changes at the center - staff actually showed up for work when they were scheduled. Before I left I co facilitated a support group for GLBT folks with serious mental illness. The other facilitator was a man who was gay and a fabulous social worker. When I returned there was someone else who could facilitate the group with me - Kristin.

Within a week though, I watched a gunman fire a few rounds in front of my office window at someone across the street. After the first shot went off, I grabbed the phone and dialed 911 and sat on the line listening to a few more shots go off and the ringing on 911, there was no answer on the other end. I went outside to make sure no clients were hurt and the police were there and one man was lying quiet on the sidewalk. There was no blood so I don't think he actually had been shot but he was unconscious for sure. Anyway, I hadn't been scared for about six months while I was on the ice. I bitterly remembered the energy that I would need to again access to stay safe in this neighborhood - the alertness and constant seeing people without looking at them when I biked into work or walked in the neighborhood. I lasted three more weeks and a series of things just kind of brought me to the conclusion that I was done with this work - I was done surviving. I resigned and said that I would continue working until they found someone to replace me. I made plans to return to Antarctica.

As the time approached for me to leave Kristin asked me what I would like to do for a going away event. I felt pretty strongly that this place and my coworkers had said goodbye and provided me enough parties and gifts when I went to the ice. I suggested human checkers out in the parking lot - everyone could participate but it would be simple and we could do it at lunch. She asked me how that worked and I told her I had no idea but it sounded good. I didn't think anymore of it after our conversation. Then the my last day I was called to her office and we went out the back door and there in the parking lot on a beautiful June afternoon was a huge checkboard drawn in chalk and all the staff from the drop in center and day treatment program. We picked teams and decided who was red and who was black and made up a game of human checkers.

I was very charmed by the way she remembered and actually made the Human Checkers game happen. Once I had resigned I was free to be charmed by Kristin. Until then I was pretty much anti- authority...LOL! We started dating and the rest is history. We did a lot of unusual things our first year. I left to go to Antarctica and while I was on the ice she and I bought a house together - one I had never seen. She sent me pictures but they never got to the ice because was on my way home early to help my friend who needed a kidney and crossed paths with the photos while I was in the air. I did the kidney thing and then we went to Disney World. We went to the boundary waters with my friends Molly and Jeff - we kayaked the Apostle Islands with friends, we merged our four cats together and got our first dog together - Rowdy Ann. We started sharing holidays with two families.

There was more charm to come - for my 40th birthday she organized a party with my friends and family and a new piano for me and my dear friends who had moved to Maine flew home for the party. She has always tended the fires at our house. We traveled to Europe for our 10th anniversary. She put a skylight in our attic for me at our old house and had special cabinets built at my request in our renovated attic space. She flew to Indiana to pick up Gromit and flew him home as he screeched the entire way on the plane in his crate. She has tolerated my dog freakness. She sat through every painful recital I have had at MacPhail. She participated in the cookie decorating parties I started with my neices every Christmas and has turned into a 16 child cookie party. She never blinked at having my niece and brother live with us when they needed a room for a while. The real charm is the every day part though...the part where I realize I get to live with her every day - her sense of humor her creativity and her steadiness.

We shared the beginnings of Chewie and Gromit together. They have joined in our own family live creature checker game - Gromit was crowned very early in his life and much prefers the life of leisure and salon conversations. Chewie wouldn't let anyone crown him - he is much too loyal to be impressed by the throne of being a pet - he is truly one of the working class. It is very fun to have two dogs but it is most fun to be able to share it with Kristin.

Firewall Rules

2009-10-28T21:43:00.001-05:00

In one of my past careers I worked in mental health in various settings but the last setting was at a drop in center. Kind of some sidewalk social work. I can't disclose a lot about this job but suffice it to say that while it had some serious and somber moments of reality there were also some very fun and enlightening moments. I know how embarrassing it is to have the fire department show up because once again, the pop tarts started on fire in the microwave.

I have experienced a police stakeout as they often used our location to stake out the drug deals going on at the sidewalk across the street. I am not sure how to accurately describe the site of members of the drop in center trying to walk around in this designated safe space while police with walkie talkies and guns are very seriously focusing on the drug deals across the street and ignoring the members of the drop in - somehow very surreal. I started to realize the value of daily coffee for people in the winter.

When working the front desk I realized how very important the first 30 seconds are when folks walked into the center - I became adept at knowing who I needed to check in with very quickly. Words became less important than watching a person's ability to dress appropriately - you start to notice who has every piece of clothing on their body - homeless or their heat was turned off, and who does have not enough clothes on for the weather, did they stand up, greet others, were they interested in anything or interested in too much, how much energy did it take to sign their name, how did they do putting on their make up today - too much, too little, lip stick on lips or around the lips - amazing how many cues you pick up and how much you notice with your senses - all your senses. I sometimes miss this work.

As I made a transition into technology as a career I had a job that was kind of in between. My job was to locate and screen various resources for people as part of an employee assistance service. I loved this job because I used the Internet and the computer and stayed on the phone for less than 5 minutes with anyone. I felt like a little social service super fast private investigator. I remember sending out a link to google and tell folks that there was this group of folks at Stanford that was developing a new type of search engine for the Internet. I was very interested in technology. One day during my research I had a case that requested a support group for transgender folks. I must have been a little naive because the results that came back the first time I searched for transgender support were not exactly what I expected. Yes, well I refined my search. Then I clicked on one of the links and wowsa - this whole screen huge message came up that firewall rules prevented viewing of the site I had chosen. Any further attempts to view this material would be reportable offenses. I didn't want to get reported to anyone but I had a job to do. I had to figure out how to get through the firewall. So I clicked on the link to find more information on the firewall. It had information about what information or words indicated an inappropriate site. So for instance - the word breast might be okay, although it would depend on how often it was used, or maybe used in the context of say chicken breast would be okay, but if the site made multiple references to big breasts that indicated a site that was in appropriate for viewing at work. Well I can say I wasn't looking at chicken breast sites and the GLBT community does sometimes get away with a little more provactative adds in their community resource guides than the average everyday newspaper or internet guide. There was more...but after reading this I think I was crying from laughing - oh, to finally understand the rules...So get this, I had to contact the tech team and have my firewall rules changed so I could view sites for transgender support groups -

For Gromit and Chewie we have created our own firewall - also known as the child gate. It stops them from being tempted by inappropriate content. Of course I am not talking about big breasts. I am talking about say, newly arriving guests private areas, 19 year old cats butts, any part of the poor, poor chimney sweep who is deathly afraid of dogs.... Gromit must have read the link though, the one with the rules - he has figured out that things on the stove or counter while people are in the room are inappropriate content, but when no one is around it is fine to stand at the sink or the stove and pull them down to the floor for a thorough taste test of whatever was for dinner. He must have read the part where the gate is fine if you are lame in a leg, but if not you can leap over it and it truly is meaningless to large dogs.

Chewie has his own personal version of the firewall - it is everthing that was not in his life the day before. Everything new is possibly inappropriate content to Chewie and for that very reason to be avoided. Chewie is his own firewall.

Oh, the ying and the yang of these dogs.

ATL - At the Lake

2009-10-24T22:40:00.000-05:00

My Mom's parents lived on Stubbs Bay in Lake Minnetonka. Lake Minnetonka is a large area made up of several connected bays. I remember spending time at the lake with my sister when we were kids between the ages of 4-14. In the summer, we would spend a couple of weeks at a time visiting my grandparents, just the two of us. It was never boring at the lake or at least I didn't think so. We would wake up and have breakfast and change into our swimming suits and pretty much spend the day swimming and playing in the lake taking breaks for lunch or a Popsicle.

The house my grandparents lived in seemed huge to me. I often wonder if it would feel big anymore. It was built into a hill so the bottom floor opened onto the yard and both the first and second floors overlooked the lake. On the first floor my grandparents had built a big Swedish fireplace that you could view from three sides. As a kid I thought it was marvelous. My grandfathers office was on the first floor. The kitchen, dining room and family room were also on this floor along with a big utility room and laundry room. Upstairs was the living room. The door to it was always closed unless my grandparents were entertaining. The living room was where the piano was kept. We always had to wash our hands before we played that piano. It was kind of a treat to play music on that piano. It was that piano that I would play with duets with my mother, my grandmother, my aunts, my uncle...I remember many family gatherings when there would be upwards of 30 people sitting in this room. There would be singing and always laughter. At Christmas we all sat together and laughed and opened presents that as a kid felt like they kept coming forever. It never felt crowded, just alive.

The lake was quite stunning from this room. The view over the bay was pretty. It was lined with big trees and spacious yards. It was a medium sized bay with an island about 2/3 across the lake. Almost exactly opposite of our house on the lake was a church. The church had chimes and you could hear them ring. There were motor boats and pontoons that traveled in front of their house, but in those days you could still see row boats and small fishing boats around the bay. The water went still at dinner time and usually stayed that way for the day. The glassy lake was stunning and quieted even the squirrels.

At the time my grandparents lived in Orono it was not quite as trendy as it is today. The Twin Cities had not yet stretched this far west. The infamous driver education movie road - Highway 12 was still the main thoroughfare to go West to the lake. My great grandparents had a cottage next door to my grandparents. Across the road was a Frank Lloyd Wright house. One way on Tonkawa road was a big piece of property that belonged to the owner of Midwest Federal Bank. The other direction was a camp.

Some of my favorite memories are swimming with my sister and friends. My grandfather used to get large inter tubes that were patched and could no longer be used in tractor tires. He would give them to us to play on in the water. My sister and I used to try to both stand up on one together. We would rock back and forth until we went splashing over. We would flip over backwards and try to come up in the middle. We would spin around in circles until we were dizzy. When we were tired we would lounge in the middle, legs up over one side and head leaning on the other. The horse flies seemed to be attracted to the heat of those big black tire tubes and when there was one around we used to have to dive under the water and slap the surface to scare it away. The sun and the water and entire days we would spend outside. I think sleeping never felt so good as the nights after our fun on the lake.

In the evenings we would sometimes fish off the end of the dock with my grandfather or one of my aunts. We had bamboo poles, no rod and reel, but perfect for fishing for sunnies and crappies. There was field of dirt that was known for night crawlers and we would dig into that field and get a some big worms and use them as bait. I don't think I could do this anymore but it was what we did back then. My grandfather would clean the fish and my grandmother would dip them in batter and fry them up.

My sister lives in Arizona with her two young daughters and husband. I miss her in a way that is hard to explain. We don't talk often but she is always in my thoughts and heart. My parents retired and bought a beautiful lake home. It is a wonderful place to visit. The whole family usually gathers at their house on the Fourth of July. My older brother, his adult children and my sister and her family, my younger brother and Kristin and I. There are usually fireworks around the lake. We raise the flag and sing the Star Spangled Banner in 4 part harmony - because that is the way my family does it. We often play volleyball in the lake. We pull out mattresses and floating innertubes and laze around in the water. There are jet skis and motor boats and pontoons on this lake. For good measure my sister and I kayaked around the lake near my parents shoreline - keeps the memory of the small row boats from my grandparents lake alive.

We take Chewie and Gromit when we go to my parents house. They love going to visit my parents. There are always special treats for them - Frosty Paws, Marrow Bones, big dog treats. When my dad fries bacon there is a piece or two that gets to the dog dish. My Mom will make sure they get a little something extra in their bowl after dinner. Then there is the lake and the yard and the lake and the dogs next door and the lake and the deer and the lake - plenty of things for a good dog to roll in and swim in and enjoy. This year we got Chewie on the pontoon with us. He also learned to swim.
Gromit loves the water but just to run in, Chewie loves it because it cools him down. Gromit went on the pontoon in a very Gromit way - no questions just whatever we were doing he is always willing to try. I love that about Gromit - he will try anything once. They sleep through the fireworks because they are so tired from their day. I am waiting for the day that Chewie learns how to sing a long with us. Gromit and Chewie love to race around and roll in my parents yard and the race to the water. I wonder if they enjoy the lake together because they get to play uninterrupted. Like my sister and I, there are no classes, no demands, just lots of time for play a lot of fun stuff to eat and attention from a bunch of people.

Very Suprising

2009-10-22T20:06:00.000-05:00

One day when I was in Antarctica I was called to help drill a hole in the ice for a set of divers. They needed someone to help keep the ice off the drill bit while they drilled the diving hole. I was a General Assistant - the do anything crew. I was sent to the heavy equipment yard and to hook up with Wild Bill. Now Bill was a Montana guy and a heavy equipment operator all year round - in the states and here on the ice. He was a handsome man, he was young, built with wide shoulders and Hollywood blond slightly wavy hair and a bristly beard. I brought him a bag lunch and I shared his one seat cab as we rode out together to the diving site. He was a bit shy and I was a lot shy. And so we rode with the squeaky grinding metal loudness of the heavy equipment, some heavy metal music and a huge drill bit dangling on the front end of the machine we were driving without talking much. I think we probably booked out for a 2 hour ride moving a clipping 7 miles per hour. It is really hard to describe the beauty of a white continent. We rocked down the road off the island and onto the ice and past the sastrugi where the water/ice meets the island. There are a few things you can see when you walk around McMurdo - like looking over the Royal Society Mountains, Scott's Hut, smoke rising from Mt Erebus and planes landing on the ice runway 2 miles out on the ice road. But when you look out over the ice and you are driving over the snow - you see all the tiny ledges created by the wind, and you see the blue and sparkles and you see the sand and the grit that are all blown together. The snow in Antarctica was different than it is here. It was not fluffy or wet - it was crisp, dry and held together much differently. This particular day it was amazing. The sun was bright, the sky blue, blue with little tiny floating billowy white clouds and the sea ice covered with snow was always moving at the surface from the wind - wispy crystals sweeping different directions with the breeze. We located the bright orange diver shed and the divers. We pulled the shed over and the divers identified the new location for the hole. This huge drill started turning - it was yellow and clunky and about 4 feet in diameter. At first it started shaving into the ice and when Wild Bill pulled it up, my job was to keep snow and ice off of it so it did not get stuck. I used a shovel to pull the snow and ice off and then Bill would go back into the hole and drill deeper. I cannot explain the incredible color of the ice and the layers you see when you drill down 20 feet through ice. Then all of a sudden just as you start to get used to dodging the ice and are into the rhythm of the running engine and vibrating metal, all of a sudden the drill pushes through and Wild Bill pulls it up and there is incredible blue and green water - it was amazing like magic only you know the water was always there but somehow is was still a humbling giant surprise. A couple more dips of the drill and all the snow and ice are out and you look down into this cavern and at the end is gorgeous water, the ocean. We pulled the shed over the hole and talked with the divers as they had lunch and changed. We watched as one diver went into the water. They could only stay down for a short time and they had to be careful of the male seals that might claim the hole and stop them from being able to surface. My, you could see things in the water; you could see anemone and seals - huge Weddell seals under the ice. I know people think you might constantly being thinking about how cold it is in Antarctica and ways of keeping warm, but really I forgot sometimes about anything else except what I was doing in moments like this. I had a bunch of these kinds of experiences when I was there.

I had one with Gromit once - an amazing experience where all I could see was us. It happened during an agility class. Nothing that anyone else would have had any idea about - just Gromit and me. We tuned into each other really keenly and he did a series of 6 tight jumps. We made it through the tight turns and directions - wrap around poles and leaping all in a swift smooth even steady strides. There was no choppiness in his step, his shoulders and tail all flowing on the same line. I don't remember using any words just hands and body language. He wasn't as fast as a sheltie or Aussie. But he was doing something with me and we couldn't see anything but each other. I remember this experience, he was so athletic and focused, and I remember it because we were together. It is not easy for me to tune in with people, I have some mistrust of almost everyone save a very few friends and my partner. So to be able to tune in and trust Gromit - it was really fun and energizing. I wanted to stop after the six jump sequence - it was enough for me. We kept going but that was enough.

I forget about agility titles. I would like us to qualify once. I think, though, the more I focus on our connection the less important the qualify will be and the more opportunity I will have to tune in with Gromit. There is something very humbling about his big white graciousness being present with me - very surprising, very dear.

Thank goodness for the apple

2009-10-20T22:34:00.000-05:00

The Minnesota River Valley is a pretty stretch of Minnesota. The drive is filled with rolling hills and a pretty little river that winds south then east and finally north towards Minneapolis where it meets up with the Mississippi. We moved from Iowa to Minnesota when I was 9. We moved to a small country town outside of the cities called Jordan. I had friends that had sheep farms, dairy farms and a couple of friends that lived in town. I remember my school teacher this year very distinctly - Miss Stemple. She was supposed to retire but they couldn't find a replacement for her. She was an old fashioned teacher. She used overhead projectors and kept her Kleenex in up her sleeve or in her bra. I remember her leaning over that projector writing something and then reaching into the front of her dress to pull out a tissue and wipe the plastic sheet with the tissue. Then she would tuck it back in either her sleeve or bra. One time she was frustrated at my lack of focus. I don't remember ever being bad or not getting something done, I think it was more that I was talking to other kids who needed to get things done. Anyway, she came at me with a rope and tied me to my chair to help me remember to stay at my desk. I'll never forget it - she was a big round woman and her arms needed to bow out to walk and she swung that rope back and forth and you could hear her nylons sliding back and forth under her dress and her pumps clicking and dragging on the floor. Humiliation is the best way for me to describe what I felt. On the other hand it was something you might see in a juvenile Jack Black or Ferris Bueller movie. Now, in fourth grade I went through an oddly grandiose phase of time where I was so afraid I would cause someone to die or go to hell that I prayed constantly that no one would go to hell. I made my parents drive me 20 miles to another town so I could go to Sunday school. The church in town was not one that my parents wanted us to attend. At this time, I also washed my hands incessantly. They cracked and bled I washed them so much. My Mom never directly asked me about this but she would do what she could to help - she would put rose water and glycerin on my hands and I wore gloves to bed at night. I was so afraid that I would kill someone by passing a germ to them that I had calculated the number of times I needed to soap up and wash my hands to remove 99% of the germs. Every time I touched something I would wash my hands - touch the dog, touch the floor, touch something that had touched the floor...and on and on.... Oh, my goodness - crazy how my kid mind worked but there you have it. I was so afraid of my thoughts and and germs that I would soak my tired brain in books. I couldn't get enough of reading. My mother worried that I would not have friends and told me to stop reading so much. I worked through all the Black Stallion books, all the Misty books, the Big Red books, Lassie, the James Herriot novels. I loved reading and more importantly it kept my mind occupied and not busy focusing on something other than my anxiety.

We moved from Minnesota to Iowa in the middle of my sixth grade year. We lived in the Quad Cities. It is the only place where the Mississippi river flows east to west. It was a bigger town a bigger school, bigger city and we all went to church not just me. I remember the exact moment I thought I needed to get over this germ thing. When we moved I had to make new friends. One of the new friends I met at church had an apple and she took a bite and handed the apple to me asking if I wanted a bite. OMG - she was okay with my germs - she thought I could take a bit and give it back to her - wow - I was going to be mortified and then I remember thinking 'oh, oh I am going to have to get over this germ thing if I was ever going to have friends again." It lingers a little today - but is pretty much gone. I knew in order to be a part of the world and have friends and be close to people I was going to have to figure out how to let go of my need to control everything in my environment. In some ways I knew I was going to have read fewer books and have more conversations. I was not going to able to incessantly recite prayer in my brain. I was going to have to come out of my world and find out where the rest of the world lived.

I have been thinking about dogs and moving a little bit. I went with a friend to pick up her new puppy a couple of weeks ago. I hung out with the puppies out in the yard for a while. I couldn't help but wonder about the whole idea of removing a puppy from this group. I guess it is the way it works but I somehow felt kind of sad as much as I was happy about the home the puppy was going to go to live. Dogs and puppies are not people. Even people eventually leave the nest most of the time. The puppies played and played. They barked at each other and if I don't know better I might have said they were laughing sometimes. I knew there were other dogs at the new home and a great dog person in my friend. I knew the little blue boy puppy had the best opportunity for happiness. I wondered this about Gromit when we brought him home. When Gromit was about 1.5 and Chewie was just a year, we moved six blocks to a new house. This was about 2 years ago. We moved into a different house than Gromit and Chewie were familiar with but they still had us - Kristin, Schmadios, Tiace and I - the same furniture and a good picture window that overlooks the happenings on the street. I understand dogs to be in the moment so Gromit and Chewie pretty much learned the ropes here at the new house pretty quickly. They found the doors, the windows, the squirrels and their yard. They found their new food dish location along with the cats new litter box location. We kept the same dog school so they didn't have to change teachers mid year LOL! And the only ritual new behavior that I can see is Chewie's ritual to go outside and not come in until there is food in his dish - can't that gorilla face back in the house without food or a ball - it take that long to train us. Gromit and Chewie still play fiercely with each other like they did at the old house. We walked by their old neighbor dog friend - Ginger the other night and they sniffed in her smell for a while as they greeted at the fence at Ginger's house. We walked by the house where the family that used to walk Gromit and Chewie live. Gromit and Chewie pulled in together to get us to the house. So maybe dogs are in the moment, but they sure seem to remember things.

I still live along a river - the Mississippi - I love the slow moving water. Gromit and Chewie love to walk along the river They love the loamy smells and extra wildlife benefits of living along the river. Once I was afraid of the world, but Gromit welcomes all the things along the river. Chewie greets them with caution but greets them none-the-less. The dogs have helped me let go of the grandiose idea that I can control germs and life. Instead, I have focused on sharing the apple, sharing the path, sharing the good smells and winding along in the moments of life.

Air Gromit -

2009-10-17T13:40:00.000-05:00

A friend of ours started a little unintentional humor with us one day while we were getting ready to pressure wash the house, she said to us - "yeah, you don't want to put your hand in front of that water to see how hard the pressure is, it will take the skin right off of your hand...don't ask me how I know." There were a few other times this friend offerred us advice all of them sound tidbits of wisdom - like with a heat gun when you are stripping window trim "I think you want to be careful how long you leave the heat on one spot - it might start the trim on fire- don't ask me how I know that." Shrugging of shoulders often occurred during these lessons. Kristin and I have taken the saying as our own - "don't ask me how I know" - and it can be very helpful in a relationship when direct communication is not in your best interest - like, ahem..."you know, I think we should really pay attention to the speed limit on the parkway, the police have a speed trap, don't ask me how I know this" - ...or "you might want to put the pot roast in the microwave before you leave the kitchen, otherwise it might disappear, don't ask me how I know..." My newest one is - don't teach your dog to jump he might.....

Many people have told me that Gromit is a big dog, he is 28" at the top of his shoulders, don't ask me how I know this...I have tried to have him officially measured at agility trials just to see if my measurement would match an official one - but whenever I bring up to the height gauge at trials the judge just laughs at me - really this has happened multiple times not just one trial but three. At first I didn't understand but now I get it, it is kind of funny. I stopped worrying about the "Official Jump Height" card for CPE and NADAC. Apparently Gromit and I have no real need for it - there is no way we are going to sneak in under the wire an jump 16" or 20" instead of our normal 24" height. Now, because Gromit is fast - to clarify - not as fast as a border collie - but for a big dog and for this handler he is like a giant speedy Gonzalez - I like to keep his jump heights high, it makes him have to spend a little energy looking and gathering himself for the jumps - it gives me half a chance to give think about the next obstacle and give him directions.

Yes, well, anyway, I have been trying to generalize Gromit's agility skills - so when we go for a walk in the woods I will have him walk downed trees and jump up and land on big tree stumps. He loves to do this and is quick to try whatever I ask him to do. It makes it a little more interesting for both of us, not that the woods and the smells and the squirrels aren't enough for Gromit, I suppose.

Recently we have been putting the child gate up between the kitchen and the rest of the house to keep the boys in the kitchen until they are settled when guests arrive at the house. It just seems like a to allow Gromit or Chewie to accidentally knock over someone or interrupt a guest's conversation with loud barking. Well, Gromit has taken to jumping over the child gate - we knew he had started doing this a while back. He was staying with a friend and she caught him eating cat food when he didn't think she was home. She loved it that once caught he slunk back down the stairs and pretended to not be able to get over the gate. My friend looked at him and told him to go back over the way he came in - "over" is the word I use for jumps...hmmm...so the other day, we had a dog that was going to stay with us for a couple of days and when he was dropped off by his people I put up the gate just to keep things sane. I put the gate up about a foot and a half up above the floor inside the door frame. The front door opened and in came Wiley and his two people. Gromit was so excited he sailed over the gate - I have no idea how high the top of the child gate was but Gromit had no problem getting over it. I called him and he came running back and sailed right back over the gate.

Our friends have now nicknamed him Air Gromit - apparently this white dog can jump. So be careful about teaching your dog to jump, and by this I mean to jump over single, double triple, wing jump - and down trees and onto the bed - you just never know how they will generalize the skill - "don't ask me how I know."

Bull Gang to Dog Gang

2009-10-15T20:08:00.000-05:00

When I was in college my Dad worked in management at a cement plant. In the summer they employed college kids as general laborers. The plant was outside of the Quad Cities about 10 minutes south east along the Mississippi river. on the way to Muscatine. The quarry that produced the limestone was directly across the highway from the plant. My Dad was in charge of plant maintenance - his crew kept things running. At the time that I was there a wet process was used to make cement. The limestone was dynamited and moved over to big water filled slurry tanks on the other side of the road. The muddy slurry was piped over to the kilns where it was heated and dried and from there it went to the cooler room where huge containers shook the hot pieces of dried sludge back and forth. Then it went to the mill room where clinker balls rolled through it to mix it into powder. The general labor crew was called the bull gang. They were the bottom of the employee pool. There were welders, chemists, silo and scale operators, machinists, heavy equipment operators, dynamite specialists for the quarry, control room operators, rail yard operators, scale technicians, bag machine operators, and the people that drove the dust collectors. The college kids, we were on the bull gang crew and we wore the green hard hats. Managers were white hats, welders yellow - I can't remember who got blue and red....

I rode to work with my dad. One summer, I was 18, my first summer working at the plant, my dad, my brother and I all rode together to and from work. Scott and I were both in college and both working at the plant. We would leave by 6am. I would often set my clothes out the night before and wake up as late as possible. I would slip into them like a fire fighter getting dressed for a fire, but without the urgency. I had steel toed boots from my dad. He got several pairs a year so Scott and I always had a good pair of broken in Red Wings. Without waking up I would crawl into our small powder blue Pinto, straight stick. I remember my Dad always had a mug of coffee, one of those big plastic gas station mugs, but filled with coffee from home, and he would open a pack of Kool's having a smoke on the way into the plant. I can still hear the flick of the bic lighter and the ignition of the butane. Whoever was in the front seat would shift for my Dad as he sipped his coffee and inhaled his cigarette. Whoever was in the back seat could snooze a bit. I have fond memories of the smell of coffee and cigarettes from the ride into the plant. There were landmarks on the way into the plant, old buildings and river boats and an old barn that was collapsing on itself. Each day we would watch the corn and soy beans grow. You could tell how much of the summer had gone by by the height of the corn. Things were green until you drove into the plant and then the world took on a surreal black and white and gray view. It was an old plant that was always running - squeaking and moving and hot and dusty.

The women's crew had a bathroom in the basement of the main building in chemistry lab. Women were still a new concept to the labor crew but we were there. There was one single bathroom stall and no showers. The guys had a big bathroom - mulitple stalls and showers. We had some very funny times at the plant and some very hot days and a couple of dangerous days. The women were always trying to lose weight so we never ate more than a piece of fruit in front of each other. One day, just for fun I weighed myself in the morning and again when I got home - I had lost six pounds. We would sweat a lot. When you work general labor you pretty much go where the clean up is needed. The plant was very old and so there was a lot of leaking equipment hence a lot of clean up that needed to be done. I still have a scar from burning cinders that fell on me from the cooler room machinery - we were only allowed to work there for 4 hours a day due to the conditions. It was loud and very hot and the coolers had leaks so as they would shake back and forth, the hot material inside would drop down on top of you. We had to wear long sleeved shirts, a towel to cover your neck, a dust mask and ear plugs. Cinders would drop into your shirt and burn your skin before you could shake them out. You couldn't hear or talk so I would make up games to play in my head to get through the day. We shoveled piles from one location out to an open area where a bobcat could come in and pick it up. Literally, four hours of moving about 10 feet back and forth with shovels full of dust. That song 100 bottles of beer on the wall really only takes about 5 minutes to get all the way through - don't ask me how I know. One of my favorite places to work was on top of the silos. The silos were about 14 stories tall. The view was incredible, you could see all the way to Illinois-LOL! We would carry jackhammers, shovels and sunscreen up to the top of the silos. The cement when being transferred from one silo to another would seep out of the pipe where the gaskets were old and it would get wet and then get hard - like concrete. Our job was to jackhammer it loose and throw it off the top of the silos to the ground. Sometimes we would play games - wheelbarrow races down the middle of the silos or try to hit targets as we threw debris off to the ground. A whistle would sound whenever there was a blast going off at the quarry and we would watch from the edge of the silos as it exploded and blew up the limestone. One day we had to move a bulldozer across the highway from the quarry to the plant. The bulldozer had big metal grates on its track that were hard on the highway so our job was to put tires down on the road. under the tracking as the bulldozer went across. OMG we laughed as we raced from the back to the front with a tire while the bulldozer stopped traffic.

Some days I really miss this kind of work. The kind of work that you could punch out from at the end of the day. The kind of work that rarely comes home with you. A job where I was tired and hungry and felt strong at the end of the day. I don't have that kind of job today. I have to work to let go of my work now. I bring my laptop home, log in or check my blackberry. I am never done. Gromit and Chewie have no time for that laptop. When I get home and they wag their tails and bark at me, I put down my bags and grab some of that happiness. They bring me into a moment. Chewie has never shoveled but he knows about moving dirt - I can almost fit in the hole he dug in our back yard. When we load up and get into the car and head to the dog park my shoulders relax I know that all I have to worry about is how far I can throw a ball, keeping Gromit in check and picking up dog shit. I don't even have to talk to anyone. I can look up at Gromit way far away as he sniffs a great spot in the grass and I can whistle at him and he looks up at me, I hold my arms apart and he comes racing at me - just happy to run to me. I don't have to do anything but just be there with them and they are happy. We walk around lazily enjoying the view. Like the cement plant I am part of a crew and we have fun and sometimes we get dirty and sometimes we get tired and on occasion we play some games. Every once in a while I have a cup of coffee in my hand as I drive to the dog park. I half expect Gromit to shift for me - but then I remember, I don't smoke and more importantly I have an automatic car and don't need any extra hands. I am at one with the Dog Gang!

Beware of the Dog when wearing Nylons

2009-10-13T17:28:00.000-05:00

When I was about 9 I had my first piano recital. I remember the song I played and still have a copy of it in my collection. It was a piece that used 4Th's and 5Th's and was called Chinese Carnival. It was three pages long - which at the time was very, very long - or so I thought. My sister was also playing in the recital, she was younger, smaller and had to play piano in my shadow all her life. I don't know if I ever appreciated that until later in my life. For the recital we got new dresses and for the first time ever I was allowed to wear nylons. Mine were purple, dark purple and the dress was a light purple. I was very excited about getting to wear nylons. I was more excited that everyone was going to the recital. So my sister and I got dressed with my mother's help.

And then my mother had to get ready. Now this was a very interesting time for fashion. It was 1969-1970. Generally in Minnesota we are not known for big hair except during this mod era when everyone including Barbara Streisand made their hair big - it was called a beehive hairdo. Oh, yeah, my Mom had this down as did her sister Shirley. These were days of big jewelry, large flower patterns on dresses and plastic bracelets with big hoop earring's. My mom would spend what seemed like forever backcombing her hair and molding it on top of her head. I can still smell the hair spray she used to hold everything in place. It was late spring and she wore a dress that came down to just above her knees. The dress was fitted but in a proper way, darts under the arms, short sleeves and a modest cut neck with a little gathers around the skirt but a fairly straight cut. The only thing I can say about the material is that it reminded me of something between burlap and drapery material. It was a plain rich gold color no flower, no paisley pattern. My parents both have fairly classic taste in clothes so it wasn't too out there, but definitely fit into the scheme of the 60's and early 70's.

Funny what you remember. I waited downstairs for my mother and thought I was behaving when I picked up a toy for our dog Jojo. He, of course, jumped up to grab the toy and about the time my mom yelled down to tell me to sit still, the dog was on his way down, toy in tow, and his nail grabbed my nylons and walla, I had my first nylon run and my first urgent recital dress issue. Uff Da - my mother was not happy. We did not have time to get a new pair. Thank goodness for grandmothers. She quickly hand stitched the hole together and it didn't show "too" much or so she assured my mother. I was very careful not to add runs to the rest. The recital turned out fine. My grandparents were there for it and I am sure my sister and I did our best to be charming. I was successful in my first recital - from a musical perspective - um, I remembered all the notes - to say I had musical finesse may be a stretch.

I often do an early more walk or exercise with a good friend. On those days the dogs usually stay in bed stretching and sighing while I get dressed. I let them out and feed them and leave while they eat so they don't notice my departure. When I get home and and shower and get dressed for work they pay little attention to me. Sometimes they walk me to the door and sometimes they just yawn and look from a distance as I walk out the door. When I get home from work, the dogs follow me around while I say hi to Kristin and change out of my work clothes. They come and watch to see what I am changing into. When I start putting on my tennis shoes they start to wag their tails. They know the park is in their future, either that or class...they race down the stairs barking excitedly as we head for the car togehter this times. Happy dogs, happy clothes, happy us - our own little pack.

I am not nearly as excited to put on a pair of nylons these days. I do it if I need to do it, but I prefer tights or bare legs. Shorts and jeans instead of skirts and dresses. My job requires business casual. My dog park attire - whatever casual clothes I wore the day before and let's just say, well I have more than one pair of jeans that has pockets with holes and that have melted crusty cheese those pockets. I love to play piano, not so interested in recitals anymore. I would rather play with the dogs than play in the nylons I guess.

Aye Captain

2009-10-11T20:40:00.000-05:00

There are four kids in my family - I have a brother 2 years older than me, a sister 2 years younger than me and another brother 7 years younger than me. I am proud to call them my brothers and sister. We are all very different and at the same time - we truly do come from the same parents....ahem! I think a lot of adolescent girls go through a phase of no one knows what it is like to be me - my adolescent phase lasted well into my early 20's - god save my parents! They managed through it all and still send me birthday cards every year.
What I think made my adolescence different from most 13 year old girls was that Mr. Spock took my breath away- I could so relate to the gentle kindess of his logic and his steadiness was, well, impelling, stirring, provacatvie - hard to get enough of Mr. Spock or so I thought. I was sure that Captain Kirk was going to somehow find me and beam me off this planet and traveling the galaxy we would find my people - my species. Did I say I was a bit dramatic as a child - yes, well that and a bit of an imagination. I knew the difference between reality and imagination, but my fantasy was that I would somehow find a way to fit into the world and that my true intentions and the misunderstandings people had about me would be uncovered. I wasn't like anyone else I knew. What I didn't know then was that no one is like anyone else.
So, here today I am in the dog world and I am reminded of my young days trying to figure out what the rules are and how to fit in on this new planet. I do my best to use Spock logic and reason things out but I just don't think the same way that these people think and I can't really wrap my mind around it all. There are many unwritten rules in this dog world and you find out about many of the rules as you are breaking them. Then there is this very funny shaming thing that happens that makes it seem like you should know the rules. Argh - I just want to scream - I am new to this planet - I don't know your ways and I have good intentions but you have to tell me the rules before I can follow them. Simple things like which door to go out, which grass you can let your dog pee on, where you can and can't have treats, where you can crate your dog and what is a reasonable amount of space to take up with your dog, everyone should bring their own chair, water and crate everywhere they go.... One time I was volunteering at my first agility seminar and no one talked to me all morning except to tell me what ring I should be at each session. I asked what I should do and was told to write down everyone's name and the jump heights of the dogs and then reset the bars. I did this. So lunch time comes around and no one told me whether volunteers can have lunch or not and I am dying for a cup of coffee. No one is talking to me, everyone is eating and I run out to get a cup of coffee. I am gone for all of about 15-20 minutes. When I get back some woman who hasn't introduced herself comes out of the building with a paper in her hand and tells me in a very firm voice that if I am going to leave the building next time could I please check it out with someone first. People were looking for me and I could not be found. Clearly my actions had rattled this woman and I was appearing to be a slacker volunteer. I had no idea who to check in with to find out what was needed - who exactly was in charge seemed to be quite a mystery to me. I don't have any trouble following directions or asking questions - how could I be missed if no one was talking to me in the first place. To get myself through the rest of the sessions that afternoon I entertain myself rattling off an explanation of my coffee break to explain my mis-steps...
Bones, disgusted tone of voice - "Corporal Heidi did not report to duty at lunch time."
Kirk, triaging and trying to get to the root of the issue - "Computer, location of Corporal Heidi please?"
Computer , monotone female voice - "Corporal Heidi is in her quarters enjoying a simulated cup of earth coffee."
Bones, now shouting - "Ridiculous, she needs to report to Nurse Chapel at once, how could she be in her quarters, Jim this is insubordination."
Spock - "Dr. McCoy, I believe a charge of insuborindation would imply Corporal Heidi to have known that she was to be on duty. How were her duties defined to her this morning?"
Bones - "Defined to her? What are you talking about? "
Spock - "Logically, if a starfleet officer is informed of activities they will be performed. If there is no defined duty, how could Corporal Heidi be out of line?"
I am sure that there would be some comment from Bones like Poppycock but Kirk would make him understand the good intentions of the Corporal and insure that things were staffed appropriately by have Nurse Chapel go over the rules with the Corporal.
I wonder if Gromit has these conversations with Chewie? Or Emme or for that matter any of his dog buddies....maybe he and Schmadios console themselves over the mannerless and directionless humans that they have to cohabitate with daily. I am sure I break some fairly big rules, but I rarely feel bad and I try really hard not to make them feel bad - however that might work for dogs. I know I once hear Gromit in the kitchen pulling things out of the sink and sternly called his name to come to me. He came into the room I was in but sat next to Kristin and would not budge. I realized that I had been expecting him to follow rules for a game he didn't know I was playing with him. He wasn't supposed to be in the kitchen sink but I never told him he couldn't be in the kitchen sink, I never gave him a better option than the dishes/food in the kitchen sink but I did have the nerve to clap my hands and demand that he happily leave the food in the kitchen sink and come and hang out with me even though I was clearly frustrated with him. Poor boy, I believe I was shaming him - I highly doubt he knew that, but he wouldn't come to me until I realized what I was doing. I then changed my voice, grabbed some treats and called him again with a different level of motivation and reward for Gromit - this time he came quickly - he knew the rules and knew what he was going to get for coming to me instead of pulling food/dishes out of the sink. He was happier and more sure of his actions.
Neither one of us had to be beamed away to get on the same planet. I am going to have to keep working on this fitting into the dog world stuff.

Delightful

2009-10-08T20:51:00.000-05:00

My family taught me a lot about laughing and just being interested in life. I have had a spectacular life - really - when you think about the opportunities that have come my way it is amazing. I don't expect anyone else would think my life is fabulous, in fact I highly doubt that anyone gives it much thought except me and my family and my dear friends - I have not always been in a place to see things in my life this way. Sure there are things I wish were different sometimes..but for all practical purposes my life is good, very good. Life can change on a dime so I am enjoying this moment in my life, why not?

About 14 years ago a friend of mine was diagnosed with kidney disease. She was an internal medicine doctor and inhaled what this meant much faster than most people might. It changed her life. Many things changed her life though, and this was really just one - she had two children, was married to another woman before gay marriage was talked about by many people...She needed a transplanted kidney and I had one that I could live without and at the time as it turned out I was enough of a match to give her my kidney. Okay here is where this story gets good - my friend wanted to take a trip to celebrate the transplant - so what do you do after a kidney transplant with your friend? You go to Disney World! I had never been and Naomi and her partner Janet knew this so they took Kristin and I to Disney World. We stayed at a resort right in Disney World - and it was sunny every day that we were there - but the thing I remember the most about this trip is how all three of us, Janet, Kristin and I were constantly running to catch up to Naomi. She was the first to see a Disney character and the first to spot a ride without a line. She of course felt much better once she had a kidney that was working and it showed. Naomi really could get us to the front of any line, I have no idea how she did this but every time we turned around there she was waving us over to get on a ride or sit down at a table she had found. One particular evening we had decided to go to a restaurant for dinner that was in Epcot Center. Anyway, we arrived and put our names on the list and were told we had an hour wait. We all sat down content to wait an hour and paid little attention to what was going at the hostess table and where they were with the wait list. All of us, that is except Naomi. She was watching and listening very carefully and the next thing you know she flips her index finger up and grabs her purse and yells to the hostess "Johnson party of 4? That's us." Then she put her hand on Janet's shoulder urgently nudging her to get up and follow the hostess. Now Naomi was Jewish and her family was from Austria and her last name was certainly not Johnson. That did not stop her though - she was listening and watching - and when we sat down she leaned in to the table so we could all hear and she said - "hey they called the name twice and by the third time I figured why let a table go. Plus if the real Johnson party of four gets here whose to say that it wasn't an honest mistake." And that is how we got a table about 45 minutes earlier than we expected. She was so pleased with this coup. This was one of the times when I realized that Naomi could see things I had no idea were evening going on and she took delight in this.

I think Gromit takes incredible delight in seeing things that I might miss as well. He keeps me in touch with the lightness and fun of being boondoggled once in a while. Sometimes, not that often, but every once in a while I wonder if training Gromit is really about making him see what I want him to see and to not use his own instincts and insight. He notices the smallest of changes in the house including a new picture on the wall or a new piece of mail on the coffee table. He is not taken aback, but just needs to check it out. Once in a while I like to follow him to see where he is headed - if he pulls on his leash with some delight and interest I like to let him find whatever it is , and it may only be something good to sniff but what the heck. He tries so very hard to play with Chewie while Chewie is retrieving. Sometimes I just throw the ball up in the air for Gromit to catch and he takes off running like crazy Chewie in tow waiting for Gromit to drop the ball. One night while practicing jumping skills I lowered the bar for Chewie and then left it low for Gromit. He balked at the bar - so I raised it and his spirit for the exercise tightened and his tail and his body became more focused. I try to be very careful to watch my sensitive white goofball and make sure he is enjoying himself and that this game of agility is not about my success in teaching him what to do but is about our success to see the course together and that Gromit is delighted - so I try to provide his favorite treats.

I don't want to miss the delight in any of my friends - Naomi, Gromit, Kristin, my family. My friend Naomi had many other very delightful stories and moments. Her body was not one of the delights and we do not have her with us - years after the transplant she had cancer. She fought off the first round and it came back a few years later. She was able to stop working and spend more time with her family. In her eyes, she had 2.5 unexpected years of delightful moment with her girls. She would tell me she felt lucky to have the time she did as crummy as cancer is to stave off.

For me, it is this simple - a bunch of delightful moments can add up to a pretty great life. Gromit has one every day, maybe more that I don't see. When he runs around in a field and through trees in big loping circles as fast as he can and then comes racing back to me - feet thumping and breathing hard - it is most delightful.

Sharing is Caring

2009-10-07T20:42:00.000-05:00

My college degree shows my major to be Parks and Recreation. Yep, I majored in professional game playing - otherwise known as Therapeutic Recreation. It was a different time, it was the 80's, when they told us people were going to be healthy longer, we would be having more free time and work weeks would be getting shorter. I was taught that people wouldn't know what to do with all the free time they were going to get. So what did I study? I learned how to play games and I studied how people interact with each other and I learned about the history of parks and legislation for recreation. I went to Saint Peter State Hospital to see their rehabilitative gardening program. I learned how to play games. I coached special Olympics and interned at an inpatient psychiatric unit in a local hospital. I learned about assessment tools to determine what people did in their free time. I learned about Maslow's hierarchy of needs and studied the Greek philosophy and realized that leisure was the ultimate life luxury. I learned about salon games and how to play them. I watched the movie "You Pack Your Own Chute" twice in two different classes. I know that Bingo is in your blood - and was unable to answer the question on the multiple choice test - What is Bingo - I knew where it was but had no idea what it was....there is something extremely poetic about this. Then I came out and had to learn what lesbians do in their free time. Yep - Bingo, it's in your blood - LOL! I learned how to play New Games - non-competitive games where everyone wins. I learned about personal goals and met the lesbians on the Rugby team - I don't think they played New Games. When I graduated I got to play more games. I learned a lot about team building and groups and why some people are more successful in group situations than others. I learned about power and leadership and the difference between facilitation and ruling. I learned a lot about compromising and honestly believed that compromise created a win-win situation but have since realized that most of the world thinks compromise means lose-lose.

And this idea of compromise brings me to the top dog portion of this blog. While I was eating breakfast this morning I had three dogs breathing on me thinking perhaps they could have a little of my Jimmy Dean lite Breakfast Crossiant. Gromit gave me his prettiest sit, Chewie gave me his most focused eye contact and Emme has to do nothing to convince me that she deserves something. I sat in my chair considering the idea that the best way to play a game is to make sure everyone was involved. I used to say that there was no such thing as cheating just that some people might be playing a different game than I was playing. So the dogs were playing the game to get my breakfast sandwhich - I was playing the game see if I can get Kristin to take a picture of them looking intently at me as thought I were the focus of their lives....As I write this blog I feel like I was cheating. I liked that sandwhich too much, way too much and the dogs didn't get any of it even though they sat while we took their pictures. Do you think they will take away my college degree if they know that I am truly cheating my dogs out of tricks?

Who is eating your dog food now?

2009-10-06T20:58:00.000-05:00

We have lived in our current house for 2 years. One day a couple of friends and I were out for a run and there was a yellow plastic sign in front of our house - sloppily handwritten it said "Fixer Upper for Sale." I looked at my friends and said "You can't tell Kristin about this." Between the four of us we had noticed this house and commented on the house. We wondered if anyone lived in the house. It was a fairly classic Craftsman house and we all thought the house could be a pretty cool house but is was lacking a little love and caring.

I had spent 11 years loving the house we were in and was not interested in a fixer upper. In our first house, we had poured a new basement floor, added a back door, added an attic master bedroom suite and had custom built in wardrobes added. We had redone the kitchen and re-stuccoed the outside of the house. We landscaped the yard and put in two patios. We had a hot tub and every single room had been painted. It had central air and room for Gromit and Chewie. It was perfect or so I thought.

My friends told Kristin about the fixer upper and of course she had to look at it right away. We drove by and stopped to look in the windows but I refused to get out of the car...The three of them peeped in the windows and Kristin contacted the seller. She made an offer the next day that was accepted and the rest is history....After two years I have come to love this house, but it took some time for me to let go of the other house....and our old neighbors....and the fact that I wasn't going to get the summer off from house projects, we were in fact embarking on one new huge house project...

I have a love hate relationship with old houses - comes from living in an old house my parents fell in love with when I was in 4th grade. The house had 5 bedrooms and two huge porches. We had a dog named JoJo when we lived in this house. It had a big fireplace, a huge kitchen and a very, very scary basement. It had character and room and was a cool house. One day my Mom went to grab a bag of dog food from the box of food that she kept on the stairs to the basement. Now JoJo would only eat a dog food called Special Cuts - it looked like raw meat, fake white marbled fat and all. Anyway, she reached in for a bag and the box was empty. She didn't think much of it and replaced the box with a new one. The next day when she went to get a bag of food from the practically full box of food, it was again empty. Something was awry here and JoJo was not eating the dog food....

We soon found out how the food was disappearing. My bedroom was next to the bathroom. My father was shaving and JoJo who adored my dad was watching him shave. Suddenly, JoJo jumped up and raced into my brother's room. I don't think I'll ever forget my dad looking at me with half the shaving cream on his face and we silently followed JoJo and watched as he scurried under the bunk bed and was lunging at something. All of a sudden out he came from under the bunk bed and scurrying in front of him was a RAT - I had a 5 second delayed scream. They raced out around the second floor and then back in - my dad woke up my older brother because apparently he was able to sleep through my scream. We all left the room and shut the door. My grandparents were coming to visit and when they called to confirm plans my mother told them of the excitement. My grandfather showed up ready to help catch the rascal. He came to the door in waist high waders, a butterfly net, a bee keepers hat and a sponge mop. They did catch that rat but there were more in the basement - ugh! I would hear them in the walls at night. We did eventually get rid of the rats but I was not sad to leave that house!

So here I am living in another cool house that has been fixed up by a contractor and Kristin. We do not have rats. We did have a mouse in the house. I don't think our doodles are much interested in mice. The reason I found it was because it had died in the piano studio. It smelled and a friend's dog Hale-Bopp helped me sniff it out. It was on the floor in plain view and reach - just lying there...huh I thought - the cats and the dogs in this house are just not interested....Kristin took care of the mouse.

So we know that dogs actually eat the dog food at our house. Chewie often eats most of the dog food. He eats his bowl and then moves Gromit by nudging him and sticking his face in Gromit's bowl. Gromit just has space issues and can't stand Chewie being that close to him while he is trying to eat.
I have caught Tiace taking a nugget or two out of the dog food bowl. It seems only fair since the dogs clean out the cat food dishes daily. The nugget barely fits in Tiace's mouth and she has to work pretty hard but must be worth it because she has done it more than once.

So far we don't have a lot of surprises about who is eating the dog food at our house, but if we do get surprised - I am out of here!

The Big Dogs Play, Play, Play while it Rains, Rains, Rains

2009-10-05T19:36:00.000-05:00

Emme, Chewie and Gromit up north at the big yard - Fall 2008

We have Emme and Joe tonight. It was my day to exercise the dogs. After work I came home and it was raining - not pouring, not drizzling, just raining. Lightly but enough so that it was cold, bone chilling cold. It wasn't raining so much that I could justify not going out with the dogs. As for the cold, well it is also hard to say it is ever too cold when you elected to live in MN. So I took the big dogs to the dog park. I can't say I regret it - it was miserable as weather goes but the dogs were in rare form. The three dogs raced out of the car to the field. I threw the ball for Chewie and he broke free from Gromit to race after the ball. Emme took off to greet a dog way up on the hill at the horizon of the airstrip and Gromit raced around warming up his muscles. Chewie continued chasing his ball and Emme and Gromit took off greeting the other dogs at the park - which probably added to a total of 10 dogs - all big and all energetic. This means Gromit was in luck - he had dogs that would play with him.

Emme is the slowest of the three dogs and even so she watched and cut off Gromit who was racing circles around her - big loping galloping circles weaving in and out of trees as Emme would watch his arc and then take off full force to cut him off and nudge him with her head. She may not be the fastest but she was having a great time and was the one dog that I had to call several times to get out of the dog park. Emme is the most well mannered dog in the world - so I can't think of a time other than the dog park that I have had to call her twice to get her to return to my side - it was just one of those happy dog nights.

Chewie continued retrieving his ball and dropping it for me to throw. He was the first one to lay down and rest. Suddenly without warning and at the same time - Emme and Gromit have had enough of this ball stuff - Gromit steals the ball and takes off with Chewie in tow. Emme cuts off Chewie and Gromit skids as he turns sliding low to the ground. It was wet and slippery and cold - great weather to wear some puppies out. He comes back and drops the ball in front of Chewie and scoops it back up teasing poor Chewie. A lot of mumbling between the three dogs as they play this game of keep away.

When I got home I was freezing but I took a look at that little Joe and asked if he wanted to go for a walk and he came racing towards me. How could I resist? So for the second time I went out in this silly weather. It was pretty hard to feel sorry for myself watching this sweet boy trot along sniffing and wagging his tail. As we crossed Lake Street and walked in front of Dunn Bros, Longfellow Grill and the Corazon Gift Store - Joe kept his prance. The Pappa Murphys though - he tried to drag me in to order a pepperoni pizza.

Here is what the big dogs look like now -

"Heheheh, Heidi is about to get in big trouble with the teacher," Gromit

2009-10-04T08:03:00.000-05:00

Gromit is right - I am about to lose any face I had in training a dog when our new fall agility sessions start. Gromit and I are going to start bringing Chewie to class with us. Chewie will start having class on the same night as Gromit - different class, an hour earlier but the same night. What this means, is that I am going to have to crate them both during each others class....urgh
Here is our Gromit and Chewie when Chewie first came to us. This was likely the first week or two into having the ChewBug. They are sleeping on the air conditioning vent nose to nose. By this time, we had worked very hard to crate train Gromit. We had been through a couple of sleepless nights. Kristin had worked through a few rough weeks at home with Gromit. We would kennel him for 2 hours a day at various times of the day. We worked through how to set the alarm so that it would ignore the dining room glass break detector - this is the one Gromit's screeching would set off so we set the alarm for the rest of the house. I am guessing that Gromit would say that neither of us sufferred as much as he did nor did we have half the work that he did in learning how to be calm and rest.

Alas, Chewie was such a sweet boy and so affectionate - and we managed to crate train him at night but the day time was a whole different deal. Kristin would say we didn't need to crate train him - she worked at home. He had Gromit and once he was house trained what was the need? To be sure, I only argued to a certain point. For a bit we did use the crates when we left the house, but never when we were at home, like we practiced with Gromit....oh am I regretting this now....LOL! As soon as we could take those crates out of the bedroom we did - I think they lasted about 18 months in our attic bungalow bedroom - small house in South Minneapolis so hence we allotted our puppies a lot of our living space!

Chewie and Gromit pretty much adored each other and any dog that came to visit them. Here is a picture of them playing on the patio. Notice how Chewie has already been given the upper hand by Gromit - anything for a little fun.
And one more picture of the two of them below for good measure. I share these only to point out how difficult it will be for them to be apart while in the same building - pathetic really - don't you think.

So alas, if I spent as much tim training my dogs as I do writing this blog we may get in better graces with everyone in Chewie and Gromit's classes. I have tried working with Chewie. We had one foundations class where everyone brought their dogs and crates and we practiced in the crates. We started by treating our dogs in their crates. Then we had someone else treat them and we were still in the room with the dogs. Then eventually we left the room and someone else treated them. Then they tried slowing down the treats. Chewie did fine until the treats quit coming - Annelise told me it proves that in fact it isn't me that is important it is the treats...alas, I had no idea - NOT. Mind you it took me two weeks to get Chewie back into the crate before this class and I used some high value treats. He would put a foot in the crate and then get the treat and scurry away. Then I would toss the treat in further and I got two feet in - but the next transition - getting the whole body in - that took an hour or so. I did it though. Then I fed him in his crate..Gromit was stunned by this whole situation - what was I doing with Chewie...It was after this then I eventually tried him in class.
We'll see how it goes this week - I am going to have to drag out those darn crates and start getting them to go into their crates - Gromit will be fine, but Chewie - I just don't want him to get banned to the car again ....Alas...
One final picture of our inside training in the basement last year - Chewie - not happy about this situation

Noted advantages of the Jack Russell amidst the pack of big dogs

2009-10-01T19:27:00.000-05:00

Gromit and Chewie have some very good dog friends. I know, we are not supposed to anthromorphise our four pawed buddies, but I see what happens with Gromit and Chewie's energy when they see Emme and Joe. They don't just bark, they wag their tails and stretch and arch their backs and curl their hips around towards their buddies as they get closer - hello, here's my butt, hello, hurry up, here's my butt. They start doing a little double time walk, taking short bouncy steps but twice as many. Their bodies squirming in anticipation of the first sniff and nose to nose contact. Their barks turn into little squeaky howls, sometimes they go silent and sometimes they go way deep down and offer up a hefty thick guttural woof. If that isn't a greeting for good friends I don't know what is?!

We sometimes get the pleasure of Joe and Emme at our house. They come to stay with us in a kind of doggie co-op situation. Joe is a Jack Russell Terrier and the oldest member of this foursome. He has had to raise and get into order three very big dogs - Gromit, Chewie and Emme. All three weigh over 80lbs each, next to that svelt JRT. Emme is a Berner so she is a good sized dog. Joe is the boss of Emme, Gromit and Chewie and Emme is the boss of Gromit and Chewie and I am not sure if Gromit and Chewie really ever do any bossing around - they just do a lot of messing around. Joe never had to worry much about Emme - she has perfect dog manners and was pretty much born with them. However, he was on to Gromit at the ripe old age of 12 weeks. Gromit was a little bit gregarious at that age. Joe probably recognized that it may be the only time they looked eye to eye so he made his intentions known to Gromit one time - no one was hurt, just some noise. And since that day, all Joe needs to do is grr just a bit, maybe curl a lip - and Gromit backs right up to let Joe through. Something similar happened with Chewie about the same age. Some dog boss teaching method to the doodles that were growing into behemoth puppies conversation that used very minimal dialogue and was extremely effective - I have never taught either dog anything in one training session like Joe did - and without a clicker too!

So that said - I would just like to offer up some of the advantages of being Joe in this pile of big black and white dogs. Sometimes we give our dog frozen marrow bones. Gromit and Chewie have big dog noses that can only get so much of the marrow out of a bone - but Joe's nose fits all the way in the bone. He runs around the house and the yard and picks up all the stray bones and piles them under the piano. I think because there is a rug under the piano he prefers to keep and chew his stash in this room. Many times he will have three or four old bones in there with him. He can chew and growl at the same time to keep the dogs away from his stash. He never moves a muscle just a little grr is all it takes. The other dogs are jealous, I am sure but only Joe can get to the left over marrow.

Okay, here is another neat trick - tonight while all the dogs were doing tricks for me and getting treats - I tossed the last of the treats in the air so they could find them on the floor. Well some treats went under the appliances - and guess which dog can get their nose under the diswhasher and stove to find the Zukes? Yeppers - that would be Joe!

Joe really prefers to sit in the highest place in the room, - so not just the couch but the back of the couch. This really threw Gromit and Chewie for a while - because to them, there was a whole couch they could sit on if Joe was going to sit way on the top - but not in Joe's opinion. No that couch really was his, even if he only took up a small pillow worth of it.

Here is another nifty trick. Joe can run under Gromit. When everyone is out in the yard, and well you know, playing - which from what I can tell, the word play is not in Joe's vocabulary. He is a very loyal and hardworking dog. Well, when those other dogs are horsing around and Joe recognizes that the people are counting on him to take care of things out in the yard, he rallys around and barks at them and then swoops up under Gromit to bark right in Chewie's ear. Unfortunatey for Joe, Chewie and Gromit and Emme don't stop horsing around. But it is a neat trick and he uses it to get around the pack. It also works if he sees a food bowl being put down on the other side of Gromit -he can run under it and claim it - which is really great if it belongs to one of the other dogs because they get 3x as much food as Joe.

Joe and Chewie have a mutual respect for loyalty and ball retrieving. It is one thing that Joe and Chewie can both understand in the other one....err or not, maybe because when Chewie has a ball Joe wants to have it.

We enjoy our visits from Emme and Joe. Without Joe we would never know how important it is to have Jack Russells in the house - it would be like having a lot of hop with no hip. When Joe is in the house we have the whole hip hop house!

Gromit and Chewie love Tiace and Schmadios

2009-09-28T18:41:00.000-05:00

Tiace and Chewie

Before there was Gromit or Chewie or even Rowdy, before Kristin, while I was still in social services, before I went to Antarctica - there were Tiace and Schmadios. Tiace and Schmadios are our cats. Schmadios is a tortoise shell gray brown and white kitty. Tiace has some calico and some tabby in her coat. I am not sure what that makes her in cat breeds...but she is adorable. Her fur is soft like a rabbit.

Schmadios was the first one to come to live with me. I was there when she was born - her mom Sunbury looked just like her but always a little smaller than our adult Schmadios. There were three kittens and she was the last one. When she was born, my friend Sid announced "that's it, you're the last one. Adios Schmadios and that's your name." Schmadios lived with her mom and Sid and Heide until I was in a place where I could have cats. She was about 6 months old when Sid and Heide brought her to my new apartment. She was the sweetest girl. She purred and rolled and slept in my drawers. She helped me unpack in my new apartment. She helped me scrub the dirt out of the floors. She slept on my lap and had breakfast with me each morning. The first spoon of cereal I took from my first bowl of cereal at the new apartment, had her little tiny tongue licking the milk out of that spoon before it got to my mouth - I was so surprised - my mouth dropped open and I looked up from the newspaper I was reading and she was looking straight into my eyes, purring and licking that milk - I laughed and laughed and gave her a little bit of milk on a saucer.

Schmadios was also a chatting cat. She talked to me for quite a while each day when I arrived home from work. She would walk between my feet rubbing her sides on my shins and talk to me. I would pick her up and cradle her in my arms like a baby and rub her tummy as she would close her eyes and purr. The neighbors told me that they could hear her crying when I was not there. I encouraged them to talk to her through the door. They did - she just had that effect on people.

Schmadios just happened to have had a starring role in a movie a friend, Karen made. Karen is very allergic to cats and Schmadios has always been insistent on showing speical attention to this her. She sways her tail in my Karen's face and brings on sneezes and watery eyes. She was a sweet sweet kitten and kept me from being lonely but she was murder on Karen! In the movie, Schmadios was the answer to a mystery that puzzled the main character played by my brother. She was a natural just because she was so social and talkative. She had hidden a a lost Mickey Mouse pez dispenser in the closet.

Tiace came to me a bit later than Schmadios but the same year. Molly, a friend of mine needed to travel for work and needed someone to take care of her cat Taice. Tiace was as a little kitten when Molly worked on a resort in northwestern Wisconsin. The other cats that lived at the resort did not welcome Tiace and she chose instead to live in the barn with an old horse that was retired from being a long trail riding and trail packing career. One morning Molly found Tiace sleeping quietly on the back of the horse. Tiace and the horse were friends it was clear. They lived in harmony and the horse never stepped on the tiny kitten.

Tiace arrived at my apartment after living on the resort and then living on a wilderness home near Superior, WI. She could run free and hunted as she pleased and slept with my friend during the cold season, enjoying her time sitting with my friend as she would read each night. Tiace also adored her friend dog buddy Bailey. Bailey adored Tiace. Bailey was a golden retriever/spring spaniel mix. He was big and furry and cuddled around Tiace when they slept together. I was worried about Tiace because she was sweet and feral and loved big dogs and a horse. How would she possibly survive with Schmadios and I in a small apartment.

At first this sweet kitten hid in a closet. She could hide herself fitting into tiny spaces. I didn't know how to make her feel comfortable but I decided the best thing I could do was the thing that made me most at ease. I played some soft quiet music on my piano. After a bit I looked over at the couch next to the piano and there was Tiace sitting with all her feet curled underneath her just listening and watching. It was the beginning of our trio spending years together.

Schmadios and Tiace were nocturnal animals and at night they would race across the apartment and roll and chase each other. Sometimes they would leap and land on the bed in a ball in the middle of the night - and bounce off of me barely noticing that I was on the bed as they rolled over and one raced out of the bedroom with the other close behind.

When I started to travel Tiace and Schmadios stayed with family. They came to live with Kristin and I when I returned from Antarctica and we had our house. When we first lived together Kristin had two cats - Merlin and Newt. Both very dear in their own right. The four cats had some kitty spats and Tiace got very sick and lost a lot of weight. She had hepatic lipadosis - a liver condition that often causes death. She claimed a small room upstairs away from everyone as her room. She layed silently on the bed purring when we would visit with her. We began a teaspoon every 2 hour feeding regime. We gave her subcutaneous fluids and brought our neighbors black lab mix over to visit to round out her treatment. Big dogs really did seem to bring out the best in Tiace. She recovered and we felt like we had a little miracle on our hands.

In the meantime Schmadios continued about her merry way requesting little bits of attention here and there with her chatter. Although now her chatter had become louder and may be mistaken for cat screaming. She now sleeps on my pillow on top of my head. When I move she does put out a rather cringing noise. She continus to sleep there so I have to believe it isn't all that hard on her.

Kristin's cat Merlin was our cow cat - a black and white cat with a personality that was bigger than a Newfie and an appetite to match. She would wake me up in the morning by touching my cheek with her black and white paw. If I didn't get up right away she would try again, but this time unleashing a bit of claw. Subtle but effective method! Newt was our invisible cat. She often looked right through you. She needed little but was a gorgeous long haired black tortoise that moved with grace through our new house.

We eventually got Rowdy Ann. Tiace and Rowdy were best buddies. While the other cats were not fans of the big black puppy, Tiace embraced her. She slept on Rowdy's bed and Rowdy would sleep with Tiace on our bed.

These days we have only Tiace and Schmadios. Merlin and Newt traveled to the other side a few years back. Tiace continues her sweetness towards our big dogs. She jumps up on the bed and snuggles with Chewie. They often sleep together. Today Tiace has moved from the spa of the queen size bed into a box full of shoes in the closet. She moves from time to time. Her new spot is a bit sad as she is not visible as much. But if you go in and call her name she pops her head up through the flaps and requests a little scratch on face. She comes out when Kristin brings her lunch up to her office. She still fights from behind the monitor for a morsel from the plate. She often wins - who can resist a 19 year old cat with a little make believe snatch the prey in her!

Tiace and Schmadios are 19 and 18 respectively. They are older girls but still fairly healthy. We have promised no new kitties or dogs for them. They get to live out their days sleeping in the sun with their friends Chewie and Gromit. They have been so very flexible living with me - something that does not come easily to cats. While Schmadios wishes the dogs had more manners, we have witnessed her teasing Gromit into a bit of chase. Tiace will curl up and purr with Chewie. They both enjoy a bit of catnip now and then and will chase a moth or spider on occasion. I hope they are enjoying these senior years. We do enjoy them all.

High Value Treats

2009-09-27T13:30:00.008-05:00

This summer I drove to Stacy, MN twice a week for agility class. It is a bit of a drive after a 10 hour day, but I do enjoy being outside with the dogs. I spend all day inside the cube land world of "the man." So to breathe air that hasn't been recirculated is a welcome change.

I have a bag that I keep a bunch of agility stuff in so I don't have to spend too much time packing when I get home. My arrival home is usually a big swirl of action. Sometimes Kristin even pulls the other(dog) car out and puts the bag in the car for me so I can just take off as soon as I am changed. My arrival usually disrupts the entire household for the 10 minutes that I am on site - running upstairs to change, flying through the kitchen to grab/reheat something for dinner on the drive and grabbing the high value treats from the refrigerator for class.

My friend Karen was the first to explain the importance of high value treats. She used the word hot dog with her dog Hale-Bopp. I was confused because hot dogs meant anything from buddig to chicken. At first i thought she was lying to her dogs - I mean as a hot dog connoisseur I know a hot dog when I see one - and she had no hot dogs. But she kept it at the 10 thousand foot level for her dogs - was it a form of compressed animal products and by products - then it was a hot dog. I am not saying I agree that this is a hot dog - but it does work. One day we were out in her backyard and she was trying to run her Keeshound through a course and Hale-Bopp was not having it - she was busy sniffing the ground and running over to say hi to me or hi to Gromit. Karen pulled kibble out of her pocket and called Haley who did not respond and Karen got a bit flustered and said "okay, I'll be back in a minute." She went in and came out of her house. Then she smiled at Hale-Bopp and said ever so seductively - "Haley, wanna hot dog?" Haley pranced over to her and sat with her eyes focused on Karen's pocket then Karen's eyes - dancing in circles - heh heh heh - she panted - sure she wanted a hot dog - apparently it beats the kibble.
Haley ran the course and was very happy about the hot dogs and very precise about the course.

What's this, I thought, do dogs discern one food from another? I had no idea. I have often wondered why dogs got the same kibble every morning and night and were never supposed to get anything different like "people" food. I thought it could cause tummy upset. Or it might make their coat look funny. Maybe they would get bad manners if we gave them people food. I thought we were not supposed to anthropomorphize our dogs and think that they had greater pleasure for one food over another. I thought they discerned only - that dog has food and I don't or this is my food and I need it to survive. I had no idea that they actually had an opinion about what they had for food.

So I started to take notice of what Gromit and Chewie preferred - what were their high value treats. Sometimes when a dog was having trouble paying attention in class Annelise would ask what the person had for treats. One time Karen got in trouble for bringing kibble instead of hot dogs, and one time I got in trouble for having the treats that aren't Gromit's favorites - never mind that they were the expensive Solid Gold treats. It was a fun experiment that mean I could try feeding them things I had not normally fed them - Gromit would often drop vegetables on the floor when there was a meat course available - I took this to mean that vegetables were about as high value to him as they are to Kristin - something to keep you mouth busy. Chewie pretty much tried anything especially if he and Gromit were offerred the same thing at the same time Chewie always ate his first.

I was extremely happy to find out that for Gromit - sliced ham and string cheese were about the same value. In fact he even might like string cheese a little better than ham. This makes me very happy because I really hate putting the slimy ham in my pocket. At some point Kristin figured out that I was taking ham and cheese to class for Gromit and she was dismayed - "hey, those are things I like to eat," she said. We had a bit of a tete e tete about this high value treat deal. I thought I had a couple of pretty good explanations - Annelise and Karen say we should use high value treats and further more, buying cheese and ham at Costco made it less expensive than buying dog treats from Chuck-n-Don's. For some reason, she thought the fact that she had bought the first ham and cheese to take in her lunch should preclude the use of those foods in my training. Harrumph! As usually happens we arrived at a delightful compromise - I wouldn't use the meat or cheese she told me not to use and I could buy food specifically for the dogs. She still didn't like the idea of my using actual food that she would eat to train the dogs though...I didn't push the fact that she gets incredible delight out of cleaning out the refrigerator and filling up the dog dishes with the left over pot roast and roasted vegetables. In victory, pointing out a double standard does not seem the right course of action - some might consider it gloating.

So fine, I have high value treats now. This works extremely well with Gromit. I have found out that he works better for ham and cheese than he does for zukes or pupperoni. Chewie has been a different challenge - sure he likes his food. He really likes his food. He reminds us every day, twice a day when it is time for food. He knocks the food container into the wall with his nose. I am not sure why he does this because I would not say we reinforce this behavior. We regularly ignore it, in fact. Although, sometimes Kristin an I will comment that it is happening while we continue the motion of our activity. Chewie's highest value treat is actually his ball. As Annelise said - "you got a lot of dog there with that ball, if you can figure out how to use it." Use what, the dog, the ball, or was she making a comment on my ability to figure it out? Alas, I have worked rigorously on making Chewie work for his ball. Sit, stay, etc...he is a good boy. His ball still gets him very worked up - so I am still not serious about it with him. I know what his high value treat is though - and that is what my goal was for the summer.

For driving to Stacy, MN twice a week, I always stopped at Culver's on the way home from Wed night class - with car full of dogs and Karen and Shari. We shared french fries with the dogs and had shakes for ourselves. Not that I needed a high value treat to spend time with the boys.

Michael Phelps doesn't have anything on Chewie - er, or maybe he does...

2009-09-23T22:35:00.000-05:00

Gromit and Chewie are lab and poodle mixes - Gromit is an F1B - I have no idea what it stands for but it means that his Mom was a labradoodle and his dad was a standard poodle. Chewie has a standard poodle dad and a chocolate labrador retriever mom. I have never read anything that says much about the generational differences between the two - I really liked the idea of first generation from a robust health perspective and our vet has called Chewie a model specimen - I adore the poodle in Gromit. We are lucky to have a little of each. It is kind of funny because we didn't get these boys because we had allergies or because we didn't want shedding, we got them because we wanted smart and fun dogs that were likely to be healthy. Yeah, um, we got some pretty darn busy active boys - and they are strong and healthy.

So one of the things we have worked on with Chewie is swimming. He gets very hot pretty easily. We live in the land of a bunch of lakes. He has water retriever in him....he - should - swim - period. Chewie was not so sure about the water. The first time we went to the lake, you can imagine - we got up in the morning and took the pups down to the water...there was the big white boy racing like mad around in the water, up the shore, down the shore - happy, crazy happy - and our careful black doodle is cautiously sniffing the shoreline with the water at his side. Then he sniffs the sand and faces the water, stepping a little closer - suddenly the water laps the shore as waves from a boat wake wash up and he jumps back and barks at me like I made it happen and it isn't funny or something....maybe he was telling me to be careful.

We take a break and try again later towards dinner time- we get him to the shoreline. To get him back we bring his ball. So we try tossing it along he shoreline - and runs to get it but his feet get wet. Well, that seems to be okay and with his ball the waves aren't nearly as scary - or maybe Chewie is less focused on safety and more focused on the work to be done. Eventually we toss it in an inch or two of water - hmmm...now he barks at it and tries to pick it up - but it bobs down.
More barking - a paw comes up and he is about to touch it, but wait, no it is a point intsead...finally he tries again with the paw, the ball bobs around and he finally picks it up and looks at me like - if I bring this back to you what are you gonna do next.... I toss the ball back into the yard and he races to get it, with some happy relief. We spent the first summer helping him wade into the water. Eventually he was comfortable enough to make like a hippo and sink down into it - but there would be no swimming.
Early this summer I took the boys down to the dog park at the river. It is large park that meanders through woods down a bluff to a sandy beach. It is a large park and a big Sunday meet and walk place. Anyway, I accidentally threw the ball in too far and Chewie barked and barked and barked at me - there were a number of swimming dogs on the beach. Finally, an older gray haired an bulky yellow lab that was resting next to his person stood up and shook himself awake - he looked at Chewie a bit distastefully and continued into the water swimming out to Chewie's ball. He snatched it up and brought it back to the beach, dropped it in front of Chewie and strolled back to his person, turned and barked at Chewie and promptly took his place on the ground next to his person with a harumphful sigh.
That was it - we had to get Chewie to swim, even this other dog thought he needed to get a grip - LOL! So he next time we went to visit my parents at the lake - the whole family was there. Chewie had started agility and his confidence was increasing each week. He didn't wait for us to show him the lake he ran right to it. We played a bit with him and Gromit We threw his ball out in the water gently throwing it a tad bit further as he got inreasingly comfortable. All of a sudden it happened - he lost the ground and started do swim. After that it was a matter of practice. He finally got it and was so happy he raced around barking and bowing and doing his two front paw bow and jump.
Here are a couple of videos - one of Chewie swimming and one of Gromit and I playing hide and seek. I have posted this one a couple of times but it cracks me up so here it is again.

Chewie Swims
http://s75.photobucket.com/albums/i296/deanx032/?action=view&current=MOV01493.flv
Chewie Swims some more
http://s75.photobucket.com/albums/i296/deanx032/?action=view&current=MOV01498.flv
Gromit Play Hide and Seek with Heidi
http://s75.photobucket.com/albums/i296/deanx032/?action=view&current=MOV01500.flv