Building Confidence

As I've talked about many times here, I use positive training techniques with my dogs, rewarding behaviors that I like and ignoring ones that I don't like. With Shyla, I never deviate from this reward-based system because she's so sensitive.

I'm what professional trainers call a "cross-over trainer" because I first learned about dog training back when the predominant technique for training a dog was to use aversives, like "corrections" with a prong collar or a shock collar. Indeed, I trained a search and rescue dog using primarily negative techniques. Fortunately, that dog was afraid of nothing, and she flourished despite heavy-handed training.

I shudder to think what would have happened with Shyla if I'd tried to train her using punishment-based learning. As many of you know, Shyla is sensitive to the point of being fearful. Indeed, when I first met her a year ago, she was afraid of many normal aspects of everyday life, partly due to her sensitive nature and partly due to lack of socialization to the real world. If I'd tried to "force" her to take on her fears, I suspect that it would have been disasterous. She wouldn't have gained the confidence that she now has.

Even now, if I use an angry voice in Shyla's presence, she slinks away. For example, the other night, R was up to mischief. He knocked over my water glass while I ate dinner. Then, as I tried to quickly clean up the water, our black "puppy" tried to steal my dinner. I yelled to stop R from inhaling my entire dinner in one fell swoop. A quick yell is something that I can do with R that I'll probably never be able to do without really scaring Shyla.

Over the past year, I've spent innumerable hours with Shyla, using positive training techniques, to help her learn to live happily in the bustling world of humans. It's been so rewarding.

Recently, I've noticed another change in her that shows a trust that is new. She likes to look me straight in the eyes. I took this photo at sunrise this morning, and her trusting eyes warm my heart.

I feel confident saying that, if I'd used the old punishment-based training techniques on Shyla, she wouldn't trust me so much now.

And she wouldn't be so thrilled to "offer" tricks that we've worked on together!

Shyla is a poster-dog for one who would have wilted under the pressure of old training techniques. I'm so glad that I learned about a different approach before Shyla sprinted into my life!

Springtime and R's training

For now, it is springtime. Bears are roaming our forests, hummingbirds are buzzing high overhead, and the Pasqueflowers are opening up to the sunshine.

Shyla and I were out early, with me riding atop the crust of the snow in the sub-freezing temperatures of the very early morning. Amazingly, in sunny spots, the snow has already completely melted down to dirt. In the forest, however, there is still deep snow.

We saw the sun rise, and it cast a reddish light on Shyla.

And, we loved each other's company.

After our ride, I spent some time training the black cracker dog. This photo shows R's serene side.

The serenity flees when we start our training. R absolutely adores our training time. That's what positive training does - it creates dogs who view training time as one of the best times of the day.

We are working on a wave, with R's left paw. He had elbow dysplasia surgery as a puppy, and this movement is great for maintaining his range of motion and muscle strength around the weakened elbow. He has definitely learned this trick! However, it's tough to photograph it well because he always twists slightly away from me as he waves.

You'll notice that R's mouth is open in the photo above. The reason is that, in typical R cracker dog style, he's modified the trick to suit him. Presently, he barks every time he waves.

And sometimes he barks when he's not waving out of pure joy for life!

Barking in sync with waving should be an easy habit to break (it just started today). Tomorrow, I'll reward only the waves when he doesn't bark. For today, I just laughed along with him every time he barked. I love his enthusiasm!

I think that R will be back to running and romping pretty soon. I've been stretching his elbow through its range of motion a couple of times every day, and we're giving him regular glucosamine injections. We haven't seen him limp in a whole week. Good news!

Waiting...

We've reached the magic date. I bet you're wondering what I mean. The sun rose exactly between the two peaks that sit to our east today - February 1. I'm hoping to get a photo just one minute earlier tomorrow so that you can see the peaks and the sun!

Of course, Shyla and I were out on the trails to see the sunrise. We play all sorts of games to start the day in the rosy glow of sunrise. In one of our games, she's decided that "taking a bow" should include resting your chin on the ground whenever possible. She adores these games! See her tail in the photo below - it wags continuously while she does her tricks.

I decided to add a dash of red to today's photos by having Shyla wear my neck warmer. It's fleece and very warm. In the freezing wind, like we had today, she seemed to love it.

When we returned home, I started my vigil, waiting for R's test results as I worked on my computer. I'm told that the results of one test have arrived at my vet's office but not the results of the second test. For some reason, they are waiting for both results before discussing them with us. There's still a chance that we'll hear something tonight but it's getting less likely by the minute.

I mentioned yesterday that sometimes Shyla's playing seems too intense for R, and we wish that he'd tell her to calm down in dog language. We're basing our expectation that he'll lay down the law with Shyla on all the other pairs of dogs that we've had. For example, K was very good at telling her younger brother R to "chill out" with the most subtle curling of her lip. She was clearly the boss, and R followed her rules very carefully. He never made faces like this one at K!

Until R clearly establishes himself as the "boss" with Shyla, we interrupt their playing when R seems overwhelmed, and I ask them to do some obedience during the interruption. It takes the edge off Shyla's intensity and gives R the break that he needs.

Hopefully, we'll have good news to report tomorrow - but there's also a chance that we won't know the test results until Monday.

Today is precious

I had planned on telling you about Shyla's training progress today but I'm too tired. I'll save the training update for Thursday.

Today, I woke up thinking of K. I thought about the biggest lesson that I learned from her in the last parts of her life. That lesson is that today is the only day that matters. Seize it, make the most of it, and don't go to bed wondering if you lived a worthwhile day. Rather, go to bed so tired that you cannot stay awake for another instant because you made the most of every part of the day.

In that spirit, Shyla and I were out for sunrise. I am taking a daily photo of the fiery orb as it crests the eastern peaks. Last year, a reader asked me what date the sun rose exactly between the two tallest peaks in the photo below. I didn't know the answer but I plan to find out this year. It's gradually moving in that direction (north - or left in the photo), and it should get there before too long.

It was a red sun, casting weak light just at sunrise, rendering Shyla very red.

The sun rapidly became stronger, and Shyla did a downward dog toward it.

After the sun was fully up, I practiced recalls with Shyla. I barely talk about these in our training updates because she is so enthusiastic and reliable about them. Despite that, I practice them daily with her, rewarding her with a jackpot for a fast recall. Her face was etched with the effort she was putting into sprinting to me as fast as possible.

Yesterday, one of you asked about the bells hanging from both dogs' collars. The bells serve two purposes. They forewarn wildlife that we are in the area, minimizing the chance of a meeting. We bought dog bells after K chased a bear during a hike about 8 years ago... and that hasn't happened again since we got the bells. The bells also help me to know where Shyla is, especially when she's behind me. I have a section of my neck surgically fused so it's hard to twist my head to look for her behind me.

Part of the reason why we practice recalls incessantly is so that we can call the dogs away from wildlife. Here was another recall from this morning. Shyla took the most direct route to me even though it involved leaping off a boulder.

After a busy day that included socialization training for Shyla in town, I took both dogs for a sunset hike, and they played with utter abandon.

We watched the sun set and the sky light up like it was on fire. I'll save those photos for tomorrow.

And, now I am exhausted. K would be proud of me, for I squeezed every last drop of fun out of this day that I could. Today is the only day that matters.

See Beautiful

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I've become even more aware of that this month. In one case, I happened upon a guy with a rifle trying, but failing, to shoot a coyote "just because he was there". In contrast, I adore our coyotes. At this time of year, they show up so often on my trail cameras that I learn to identify the different pack members.

This guy was curious about my camera and came so close that he wasn't in focus.

And, this guy licked his nose as he examined my camera's glowing red LEDs from a distance.

Another part of life that has brought me great delight is that, after months of "limited activity", Shyla can run again. That means that she and her brother can play at full speed. I haven't yet had them out together in good light (to capture good photos). But, yesterday around sunset, they romped maniacally.

Shyla brings out the puppy in R... not that it's ever far from the surface! Look at his eyes!

Then, this morning, it was very cold, windy, and snowing. But, there was a small gap in the clouds exactly where the sun rises. We were treated to a show of falling snow and sunrise light for about 5 minutes.

The whole world looked orange. So very beautiful.

Shyla seemed to enjoy it as much as I did. She sampled the scents in the wind atop a boulder.

Our world is beautiful. We are part of the See Beautiful Blog Hop.

Sunrise Hike

Shyla and I took a sunrise hike this morning in bitter cold, wind, and snow. Surprisingly, it was just exactly what we needed.

I've been down lately, as I'm betting that you've been able to tell from my posts. A combination of a devastating anniversary and this never-ending flu has left me feeling completely devoid of energy or joy.

There's little that I can do about the flu except wait for it to pass (and try to rest, although I'm getting impatient). However, to help me deal with that unnamed terrible anniversary, I have an amazing girl who is growing up right in front of my eyes. She's sensitive and sweet, a perfect friend for a time like this.
This morning, Shyla headed out into the day with her usual zest, as enthusiastic as I was about greeting the sunrise. While it was still dusky, I kept her on leash to avoid wildlife encounters. But, as the sun became stronger, I decided to let her run a bit. Look at her intensity when she realized that I was going to let her romp!

And, she was off to the races...

By the end of our hike, it was clear that the snow would keep falling, perhaps all day long. Snow dominates our forecast so perhaps we are returning to a normal winter. I think that Shyla hopes so!

Sometimes the best medicine is right in front of me.

Almost Wordless Wednesday

Veiled sunrise

Soft sunrise glow on Shyla's face

Later morning beauty

The invisible patrol - a mountain lion earlier this fall

Six years ago today

Six years ago tonight, I was lying in a hospital bed, oblivious to the world around me. I'd just had a three-level fusion in my lower back, and I was in more pain than I'd thought imaginable. My brother visited me that night, and I have no recollection of it. I was so pumped full of pain medication that I might as well have been knocked out.

I knew that the NCAA basketball tournament would start the day after my surgery, and I thought that I'd watch every game from my hospital bed. Ha! I didn't see a single one. I slept continuously, and, for the brief moments that I was awake, I couldn't keep track of which team was wearing which color.

As the years have gone by, I've realized that the surgery was the best choice that I could've possibly made. It stabilized my spine sufficiently for me to be able to manage the remaining pain if I carefully plan my activities.

With the memory of what happened six years ago, K and I hurried up high to see the sunrise this morning. If I'm capable of using my legs and K is still energetic, we're going to take full advantage of it! The photos above were from before sunrise, and the one below was just as the sun crested the eastern hills.

Due to the clouds, the sunrise was gorgeous orange and purple.

But, due to that cloud cover, we had only a few minutes of the amazing sunrise light before the sun was blocked by the clouds. K glowed during those few quiet minutes.

K was by my side for the whole seemingly endless recovery from the surgery back in 2006. At first, I couldn't limp further than a hundred yards without bursting into tears from the pain. And, after the Runner had no choice but to go back to work, K refused to leave my side for anything. She was an amazing friend during that phase.

It was 3 months before I was allowed to ride in a car and even longer before I was allowed to drive the car. At the 6 month mark, I was finally allowed to try riding a bike... Everyone who knew me laughed at the thought that the doctor had no idea what a force he'd unleashed when he said that I could "try riding a bike". I think that I rode a bit more than he had in mind! But, it's been the best spine therapy imaginable...

So, today, I remember how the Runner, our yellow lab S, and my chocolate K all rallied to get me through that very tough time (R wasn't born yet). I'm a very lucky person.

I must end by apologizing for not visiting many blogs. I've had an eye infection for more than a week, and now I'm awaiting the results of the culture that they did to find the right antibiotic for it (the "standard" antibiotic didn't work). Until I can start new antibiotics targeted for my infection, I'm just going to have to suffer with it. It definitely limits how long I can use my computer.

Dawn of a new day

Thanks to all of you for your words of support yesterday. Your understanding of how much I love K and how much this is hurting me makes a huge difference to me.

This morning, K and I seized the day by taking a short hike that started when the first light of dawn glimmered on the eastern horizon. After climbing up to a viewpoint, we were treated to the moon setting in a purple sky over the Continental Divide.

We wandered a high plateau as the eastern sky became brighter. Total silence reigned. This tranquil time was precious.

As we dawdled, waiting for the sun to rise, the clouds over the Divide lit up in a stupendous orange glow as the moon sunk toward them.

Then, the life and warmth-giving sun peeked over the eastern hills. The dawn of a new day...

K had been leashed until that point because I don't like her to run unfettered in the dusky darkness. I unclipped the leash, and she chose to gaze at the mountains. Her beautiful fur looked luxurious in the sunrise light.

Her freedom gave me the chance to see if she was still limping. It appeared that she was not, and she seemed to be full of energy and happiness. When her ears fly straight up as she gallops, I take it as a sign that she's romping with full enthusiasm!

I did notice, however, that she doesn't like to have her leg with the radiation burn in the snow, if she can avoid it. That probably explains the photo from yesterday when she propped that leg up and out of the snow. She kept doing the same thing today. Perhaps, the "limp"  that I saw yesterday was from her radiation burn rather than anything in her bones. I hope so!

Thanks again to all of you. I felt really sad and worried yesterday, and your comments lifted my spirits immensely! The power of the paw...