Human Canines, Part 2 (The Christmas Version)

Since the first installment of "Human Canines" came at Thanksgiving, I thought the next installment should come during this Christmas season.

With only 18 days left until Christmas, I thought now would be a good time to post more ways our canine kids reflect us and our behavior, and more lessons we can learn from them.

So here's "Human Canines, Part 2 (The Christmas Version)." Enjoy!


1. Labs know how to frolic.











2. They demonstrate patience.













3.When they itch, they scratch.











4. They're willing to dig for good things.













5.They know how to savor the moment. :o)











6. Snow isn't a nuisance; it's a great excuse for fun.













7.They understand and appreciate the value of rest.











8. They share.













9.They take time to look at things from a higher point of view.











10. They do what's necessary to gain better perspective.















11. They stop and smell the roses (or whatever scent is in the air).











12. They sleep when they need to.














13. They offer affection unsparingly.











14. They know how to be comfortable wherever they are.













15. The exercise more when they have someone to exercise with.











16. They understand the need for boundaries.














17. They smile easily and often.











18. They know how to stay focused, even when others attempt to distract them.













19. They hold on to what's important.











20. They stay by our sides.











And most of all, Labs are just Labs: faithful, attentive, affectionate, exuberant, and wonderful to be around.

Here's to loving, living with, and learning from them.

'Til next time,
Joan

Jingle Dogs

Well, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here. :o)

For the first time in several years, I'm really decorating. Even the dogs are getting in on the act (we call them our "Jingle Dogs" with their fancy red and white jingle-bell collars).


The last three Decembers ('02, '03, '04) held major work deadlines for me, so I did only the bare minimum of Christmas traditions: a tree (put up Christmas Eve); an Advent calendar (barely used); a few candles; stockings on the fireplace mantel; presents Christmas morning, a few family gatherings, and that's about it.

But this year...ah, this year, we're doing Christmas the way we did for years and years: decorations, homemade goodies (cookies, fudge, peanute brittle, muddy buddies, hash), Christmas music, Christmas movies (my favorite: A Muppet Christmas Carol), Advent readings, worship services, and of course, the rest (tree, shopping, gifts, family time, etc.).

For the first time in years, it's fun. Truly fun -- not pressured. Wow. What a change.

I worked hard to create memories when the kids (the human kind) were small. I wanted Christmases to be perfect. I pressured myself to create a Normal Rockwell Christmas every year. But I always failed. Always--I couldn't get it right (perfect), no matter how hard I tried. And I always walked away from Christmas disappointed.

By the time my youngest son hit his mid-teens a few years ago, I was worn out. I'd burnt out on Christmas and its harriedness. Besides, Christmas (and all its traditions) didn't seem to matter so much anymore, especially since the kids were grown.

I was wrong.

My young adult children (18, 19, 21) seem to need Christmas traditions now more than ever, especially now that two of them live away from home. They ask for all those things I did when they were small; they look forward to them. And not because the things I did were perfect (far from it), but because those things made my kids feel loved and secure.

Well, duh.

What do you know! I finally get it.

It's only taken me nearly two decades to realize that Christmas isn't (and never was) about Norman Rockwell images of perfection (why do we do this to ourselves!).

Regardles of season of life, I'm learning that Christmas is a time of celebration: we celebrate God's gift to us in Jesus; we celebrate being part of a family (no matter what size or h0w scattered); we celebrate living in a land where we are free to observe Christ's birth; we celebrate countless graces (roofs over our heads, food on our tables, clean water to drink, sanitary living conditions, well-stocked stores, relative peace and safety, the beauty of nature, you name it...); we celebrate the gift of love and the Lord of Love Himself.

Our problem, at least in the United States, is that Christmas becomes so busy and so material, that we fail to take time to notice the heart and reason behind it all.

If only we'd take time to do so.

So this year, I started early. I started reading Advent reflections Thanksgiving weekend. I let my boss know that I'd be cutting back on my hours in December (as a freelancer, I have this luxury) so I could pace myself through the holidays; I've taken time to sit, be still, and reflect on the true meaning of the season. Instead of dealing with the stress of malls and traffic, I did most of my shopping on-line, and now my shopping is done (a first for me in early December); my house is decorated (inside and out!). I have Christmas music playing all day while I'm working in the house. And I may even send Christmas cards this year (something I haven't done in several years).

But most of all, this Christmas, for me, is about relationship: relationship with God and relationship with those I love.

Dr. Suess's How the Grinch Stole Christmas sums it up best:

"Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any presents at all!
He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming! It CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: 'How could it be so?'
'It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
'It came without packages, boxes or bags!'
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
'Maybe Christmas,' he thought, 'doesn't come from a store.
'Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!'"

Here's to hoping your next few weeks (and mine) will be filled with the 'little bit more.'

'Til next time,
Joan

Ridge is Howling Again

Poor Ridge. Elsie's in the prime mating phase of her heat cycle, and Ridge's testosterone is in overdrive (as it should be). The poor boy only wants to do what his body chemistry is telling him to do.

But he can't. Not yet. And he's howling in protest.

We have one more heat cycle to get through (after this one) until Elsie will be old enough to have her hips and eyes screened. Once we have her screening results, then we'll know whether or not we can breed her. Until then, we need to keep her away from the boys while in heat. Besides, she's still too young (only 15 months old).

In the meantime Ridge must wait.

Mercifully, we have Benedryl. Our vet recommends using 75mg. (Ridge weighs 85 lbs.) of Benedryl as a sedative when Elsie is ripe. It really does calm him, and it doesn't have any lasting effects. Elsie is prime now (at least according to Ridge's behavior), so I broke out the pink and white capsules today.


Despite the Benedryl effect, we still have to crate Ridge and Elsie when she's in heat. We do this crate rotation thing to protect her. If Ridge is out, Elsie stays in her crate. If Elsie is out, Ridge must stay in his. And if I have to go out and can't supervise them, both go into their crates.


Baxter, sweet neutered male that he is, no longer needs a crate; he has a doggy bed in the family room. And he's oblivious to it all.

The howling problem occurs only when Ridge is crated. If Elsie is crated and Ridge is out, he's content to sniff and pace and sleep next to Elsie's crate.

When Elsie is out, however, and Ridge is crated, the howling begins. If both are crated, Ridge howls then, too.

The funny thing is, Elsie's heat cycle is the ONLY time Ridge seems to mind his crate. He really likes it most of the time, though he doesn't need it; he's so well behaved.


We leave Ridge's crate up for him all the time only because Ridge seems to prefer it. It's his den. When Elsie is not in heat, we leave Ridge' s crate door open all day, and he comes and goes as he pleases. When he naps during the day, he prefers to mosey into his crate for a snooze. When he wants a break from Elsie and Baxter, he goes there and lies down. He likes his crate.

Well, most of the time. Just not when it keeps him from in-the-prime-of-her-heat-cycle Elsie.

Elsie, little imp that she is, still needs hers (she's still chewing things she shouldn't chew if I'm not in the room). And her heat cycle is the ONLY time she LIKES her crate (she seems to prefer being there to being sniffed and mounted; I suppose I would, too, if I were her).

LOL. She and Ridge are polar opposites. At least during heat cycles.

Ahh, but this too shall pass. And it may even pass before Christmas! Yay!

I can't imagine dealing with Christmas and heat cycles at the same time! How thankful I am for small mercies (like Elsie's prime occurring right now and not two weeks from now).

Now if we can just get through the next week and stay sane...(thank you, Benedryl!).

'Til next time,
Joam

Always Ready Yes; But Always Able?

One of the things I love about Labs is their eagerness. They're always ready to play or work or train or do whatever we ask them to do.

It doesn't matter what we have in mind.

All we have to do is say their names, and they're there (reminiscent of James Taylor's "You've Got a Friend" or of the biblical prophet Samuel who heard his name called and immediately responded with "Here I am").

Unlike so many human types, our canine friends faithfully respond to our calls.


They show up.
Immediately.
With enthusiasm.
Eager to please.
Willing to do their best.

How many humans do the same when called upon to do something?

Okay, I'll admit there are exceptions (like when they're reluctant to stay behind when one of the other dogs is going out with Don to train). But overall our Labs are eager to please and will do what we ask.

That is, if they have the ability.

One of the parenting books I read when my human children were young talked about the difference between "willful definance" and "childish irresponsibility." A child who stomps her foot and says "no, I won't clean my room and you can't make me" is being willfully defiant. That's entirely different than the child who forgets to put her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper (she's not willful, just forgetful) or who falls asleep working on her room because she's so tired (again, not willful, just physically unable at that time).

Parents have to decide if their children's lack of compliance is a matter of attitude or inability.

My brother-in-law is a Director of Human Resources for an information techonology firm, and when dealing with employees who aren't doing what they've been asked to do, he has to decide if the issue is a matter of "will" (an "I won't" attitude) or "skill" (an "I can't" issue).

Bosses have to decide if their workers' lack of compliance is will or skill.

As parents or bosses, how we handle lack of compliance depends on the reason behind it.

I think the same goes with dogs. Is their non-compliance, when it occurs, attitude or inability, will or skill?

Our Labs are always ready to please us (it's characteristic of the breed), so when they don't comply we have to ask why?

Sometimes it's immaturity.
Sometimes it's puppy-ish irresponsibility.
Sometime it's ignorance (they truly didn't know any better).
Sometimes it's a need for more development or training.

And, yes, sometimes it's will.

Labs can be stubborn when they want to be. But usually there's a reason behind it. Sometimes the reason is clear (as in Elsie's current "I don't want to wear this stupid diaper" or "I don't want to be crated when Ridge is out," both of which she has to do while in heat, as she is again right now). Sometimes it's less so.

But good parents (of dogs or kids) take the time to find out why.

Our "kids" (whether two- or four-legged) will love us all the more for it. And, to boot, they'll respond better next time.

Here's to understanding our "kids," whoever they may be, and treating them as they have need.

'Til next time,
Joan

The Good Things - Part 1

Since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, I thought today would be a good day to post photos of the "good" things our canine kids do, the things for which we're thankful.

And we truly are grateful for the richness our Labs add to our lives.

So here's to Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge, who give so much and ask so little in return!





They do everything with enthusiasm.








They take time for back scratches and belly rubs.








They illustrate flexibility. :o)








They express affection.








They pay attention.








They keep our laps (and hearts) warm.







They (well Ridge and Baxter, anyway) know what belongs to them and are content with what they have.







They greet us (and everyone) with gusto, making us feel loved when we return home.








They're generous with hugs.








And with kisses, too. :o)









They know how to befriend those who are different than they.








And they keep us smiling (note peanut butter on tongue.)




Yes, indeed, we're glad to share life with our canine kids. And we learn much from their ways.

I'm sure we'll learn more in the years to come, but for now we're thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

'Til next time,
Joan

The Impish Things They Do - Part I

Gotta love 'em. :o)

Here are a few impish things our beloved Labs do (or used to do as pups). Can you relate?




Baxter used to stand on the dishwasher door (some 80 pounds ago!). He gave this up long ago (good thing, or we'd have no dishwasher door by now!).







The Boos also used to stand on the coffee table. He doesn't do this anymore either (another good thing!). :o)








Instead, he gets his table-standing fixes by hanging out on the picnic table--all year 'round. Some things never change. I think he just likes looking in the window. :o)





Ridge still can't resist yummy things left out on the table or kitchen counters. At least he gives us motivation to keep things cleaned up. :o)






Elsie is still a chewer, although she's getting better about what she chews. She's not the shoe thief she used to be.







Although, if she's bored with Kongs and bones and ropes and balls and the countless dental toys we have laying around, she'll steal Ridge's bed to chew on. As a matter of fact, just last week she shredded her own bed. Just for fun. Aaaaaargh.




Oh, and lest I forget, here are a few more impish, but unphotographed, behaviors:

• drooling (we've got three majorly-Pavlovian canines here)
• tracking in mud (big paws = big mess)
• digging (enough said)
• completely shredding any stuffed toy or any toy that makes noise (no more Nelliphant, Mr. Hedgehog, Mr. Mallard, or Mr. Monkey)
• resting their noses on the table right next to our dinner plates
• snitching food off the counter

We have plenty more imp photos; these are just a few to start. To be fair, however, tomorrow I'll post photos documenting the good things Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge do, too.

And then later I'll post more imp shots (can't resist).

Hey, they're Labs. There will always be more than enough photos of them being imps and angels. :o)

It's just the nature of the breed we love.

'Til next time,
Joan

Is Bigger Better?

The things we wonder about sometimes...

Okay. I'll confess. I've sometimes wondered about male dogs lifting their legs to pee. Oh, yes, I know their style has something to do with marking and claiming territory, but why do some dogs (like Ridge, for example, right) seem to painfully contort their bodies for higher aim, while others barely get their legs off the ground? And some male dogs, like Baxter, relieve themselves with a distinctly feminine squat (is there such a thing?) as if they don't care. What's with that?

The Secret Lives of Dogs: The Real Reasons Behind 52 Mysterious Canine Behaviors by Jana Murhpy answered my questions.

What I read in this book affirms that I was correct in assuming that canine male urinary habits result in territoial markings. Ahhhh, but what I didn't know is that height (i.e., how high the marking is) apparently means something, too. Especially to other dogs.

It seems that male dogs "aim high" to make themselves appear bigger. :o)

LOL. How ironic that one of my recent LabTails posts was about human-like traits in canines (anyone remember the Saturday Night Live skit about men, "manhood" size, and restroom paper towels?). Like our canine friends, we think bigger is better, too. Or we think others think so.

But for humans, "bigger" isn't limited to physical size/traits. And it's definately not limited to males.

In American culture, men and women alike want what's "bigger": We want bigger names, bigger senses of importance, bigger reputations, bigger paychecks, bigger houses, bigger cars, bigger respect, bigger (or better) toys and technology, bigger food helpings, bigger spheres of influence, and bigger portions of the prosperity pie.

But at what cost?

When Ridge twists his spine to appear bigger, his only consequence is a bit of splatter and an occasional loss of balance. :o)

Our pursuit of "bigger-ness," on the other hand, can cost us our financial security (think of our massive consumer debt), our integrity (think of Enron), our time (think of 80-hour work weeks), our friendliness with neighbors (think of empty front porches), our health (think of stress-related heart attacks, strokes, and ulcers), our loved ones (think of family lives sacrificed on the altar of career), and ultimately, perhaps, our peace of mind (think of later-in-life regret).

Maybe bigger isn't really better afterall (despite what advertisers proclaim). Maybe it's just an illusion.

My good friend, Kathy, owns a Maltese named Bentley. And at six pounds, Bentley holds every bit of value to his family as our 260 pounds of combined Labs do for us.

Size isn't everything.

I suspect, at least in the human arena, it's the things we can't measure that count most.

'Til next time,
Joan

Friends

Baxter and Elsie are buds.
They romp.
They tease.
They poke.
They prod.
They wrassle.
They flaunt their stuff.
They draw out each other's impishness.

Baxter and Elsie enjoy being together. They have fun. They're the kind of buds who know how to have a good time and can make the other laugh and enjoy life.

Their "friendship" is very different than, say, the one Elsie has with Ridge.



That's because Ridge is all business. He's serious-minded. He's not silly or impish like Baxter. He's not a tease. He's not a flaunter, either. He enjoys being with Elsie, but theirs is a "quieter" friendship--one built on companionship, trust, and the comfort of another's presence.




And here we go again: another way our canines teach us.

Don't people need different kinds of friends? Don't we need those with whom we can giggle and tease and just have fun? And don't we also need those with whom we can enjoy quiet companionship?

Rarely do we find both in the same person. We tend to have the "fun" friends we play with and the other friends with whom we do tasks or from whom we seek counsel.

I've been blessed to have found both in one man: my husband. And I've been blessed to have found both in two other people: my twin sister, and my friend Kathy. But everyone else, for the most part, falls into distinct categories: the "play" friends" with giggle factor and the "serious" friends with whom I work, serve, or minister.

With the "play" friends, I can be goofy and silly (I don't have many of these). With the "serious" friends, I work and get something done.

When I'm with the few who've been both to me (Don, Jeanie, and Kath), I can be all of who I am without reservation. The others only get glimpses.

And I suppose that's okay.

As we approach Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for the many good things in my life, among the most important of which are my friendships. Like Elsie, I have friends who allow me to be me and love me all the same.

That, indeed, is a rare gift in this day and age.

I feel blessed. And I'm grateful.

'Til next time,
Joan

Different Dogs, Different Displays of Affection

All three "kids" are terribly fond of us; they "love" us as only canines can. But each one shows his/her affection differently. Not only do they differ in style from dog to dog, but as individual dogs they display affection differently depending on the object of their affections.

Take Elsie, for example. With me, she leans on my legs, sits against me or on my lap, or curls up on my feet. She just wants to be close. Here I am (right) watching TV, with the Elsie girl snuggled close on my lap doing her classic "lean." Elsie likes to touch, wherever we are, but she rarely falls asleep with me.

With Don, however, Elsie sleeps like Rip Van Winkle. She does the all-out snooze. Sometimes she slumbers next to him (as in photo on left). Other times she sleeps on top of him (as in photo below right).

But in any case, she sleeps best against Don.

It's another people-like trait I guess: dogs expressing affection differently. And just as they express affection differently, they seem to need different kinds of affection from us.

Ridge needs kisses, pats, and the security of knowing we're nearby, but he doesn't need to touch. He's just happy to know we're there, and once he's sure of that, he can rest undisturbed anywhere in the same room.

Baxter needs play time from us. And he seems to need to tease us. He also needs a lap now and then upon which to rest that giant head of his. Sometimes he needs reassurance that we love him as much as we do the other two (he's our most jealous). But once he's gotten his touch fix (a pat on the head, a brief snooze with his head in our laps, etc.), he's glad to hang out on his own. Nearby, but not touching.

Elsie needs physical contact. She sleeps best against us. While the other two can stretch out elsewhere (even preferring to sleep undisturbed on the other side of the room), Elsie seems to require a human connection to rest well.

People are like that; we have different ways of giving affection and receiving affection: some like to be touched; some need words of assurance; some need only another's presence to know they're loved. And some just need time playing or teasing or just having fun.

The trick is knowing who needs what.

I know what my canine kids need. And I'm pretty sure I know what kind of affection each of those in my immediate family need (hubby and kidlets). But I'm not sure I've taken the time to figure that out with other loved ones.

I suppose I should. We'd all be better off for it. And I suppose we'd have fewer regrets. :o)

I guess the place to start is realizing we're different; we all need different kinds of connection. What works for one may not work for another. And that's okay (it's how we're made).

We can just keep trying until we figure it out.

Here's to discovering how to love others well according to their needs.

'Til next time,
Joan