Keeping Moving

Hello from one of our local bobcats!

We woke up to snow this morning - a few inches overnight that weighed down the pine boughs.

During our snowbike ride (my first attempt at riding with wrist splints - woo hoo - I knew it could be done!), the snow bombarded us occasionally.

Shyla and I played a few training games. First we played fetch with a ball in the snow.

Then, she made up her own game of "hiding" her ball in the snow and digging it up.

I was so proud of her when she did one of her "commands" outdoors for the first time. I use chemical handwarmers a lot in the winter (for Raynaud's Syndrome), and I drop them in the snow regularly. In the quiet of our house, I taught Shyla to "find" a handwarmer for me, pick it up gently, and bring it to me. Today, I dropped one, and I couldn't find it under the fluffy snow. So, I said "find it" to Shyla, and she instantly went to work, using her nose to find the handwarmer under the snow. To my surprise, she fished it out of the fresh snow and presented it to me in short order. We had a big celebration!

When we arrived home, Shyla curled up for a well-deserved nap. Doesn't she look cozy?

Despite the pain in my neck, arms and hands, I try to keep moving, not allowing myself to become paralyzed by it. I learned yesterday (from delightful EMG and MRI tests) that it's probably caused by nerve impingement at multiple sites from my neck all the way down to my wrists. We're going to start by trying to reduce the pressure at my wrists. So, with wrist splints in place, I headed out for a little more snowbiking while the pups napped.

I stopped for some photos with a fabulous macro lens loaned to me by a friend. What fun! It'll be even more fun when the sun shines again on our snow-covered world.

After many years of pain from my spine, my strategy is always to fight back and keep doing what I love, even when I feel the temptation to give in and wallow in my pain. Even though I find it hard to force myself to get moving some days (like today), it almost always helps. Today was one of those days.

Wordless Wednesday

P.S. Please forgive my lack of commenting on your blogs. I have splints on my wrists that make typing very hard...

A good day for Shyla

I'm in the midst of one of those weeks... I feel like a speck in the big universe. Thank goodness that it's a beautiful universe.

I have a medical appointment almost every day, making me feel as if life is sprinting out of control.

But, one bright light was how well Shyla handled our in-town training after my MRI today. She was very outgoing, wanting to meet all sorts of people. When she gets into moods like today's, she can leap into social situations that are over her head. I try to restrain her but I'm not always successful. Everyone wants to pet her when she's as cute and flirtatious as she was today. Then, in the midst of happily meeting people, Shyla appeared to suddenly realize that she is usually scared in those situations and shrunk away from the man who was patting her- but she bounced right back.

Her amazing courage today was a lesson to me that I have little day-to-day control over Shyla's fearfulness. I can do my best to set up our training sessions in-town so that they are most likely to be successful... but my strategies will work some days and not others. I did almost the same route and routine with her last week but she didn't enjoy it at all then. Today was a different day.

I keep patiently working on our basic training at home and in the forest.

I'm sure that our basic training is helping to build Shyla's confidence over the long-term. But, I'm taking my "new attitude" to heart. Today was a good day of training but that doesn't mean that we've conquered the fear. It simply means that it was a good day for Shyla.

A close call...

Every morning, I try to be out for sunrise with Shyla. My attitude is that, if we can have fun at the dawn of the new day, then it's already a good day, right from the start.

It's getting a little more challenging, as sunrise is zooming earlier and earlier. We're both a little sleepy some mornings.

But, it doesn't take long to wake up and dream of the day ahead.

It's clear that the sun is very low in the sky when a shrub that is less than a few inches tall makes a shadow on your dog's face.

After we watch sunrise, we usually play some training games. You might remember that, just a little while ago, Shyla didn't know how to do a proper retrieve. I had to break it down into tiny steps, teaching her each one individually. Then, we put it together into real retrieve inside the house. Now, finally, we've taken the show on the road (or on the trails, you might say).

Shyla now adores retrieving. She needs no encouragement because she loves it so much. Her rope toy is her favorite retrieving toy.

Shyla will hold it for as long as I ask before releasing it into my hand.

Funny, I've bought Shyla all sorts of toys but not this one. I found this one in the woods, frozen to the ground under a thin layer of snow. It's her favorite toy.

She adores this toy so much that I've started using it as her reward for a great recall. If she comes when called really fast and enthusiastically, I whip out her rope toy, and we play with it. To keep her very excited about it, I don't let her play with the rope toy except when we're training.

Last week, after my morning snowbike ride and training with Shyla, I had doctor appointments almost every day, to pinpoint what's wrong with my neck, arms, and hands. Believe me, those appointments are nowhere near as much fun as playing with Shyla in the morning. But, Shyla did go with me each day so that we could do some socialization while I was in town.

One day, on my way home from an appointment, it was snowing hard as I drove up our mountain road. When it's snowing hard, the plows often can't keep up with the accumulation, and driving on our incredibly steep road becomes treacherous. On that day, I came around a curve, and I saw a Honda Element crashed into the side of the road with all the doors standing open. A guy was outside the vehicle and his Golden Retriever was prancing around in the middle of the slippery road. I immediately visualized what would happen to his dog another car came down the road right at that moment.

I pulled over, and fortunately, the dog (Barkley) was very friendly and came to me enthusiastically. I hung onto his collar and walked him over toward his human, who appeared to be fine. Apparently, the crash had just occurred and all the vehicle doors had flung open on impact. Because Barkley wasn't restrained by a seatbelt or a crate, he hopped out of the open car after the crash. Fortunately, our road isn't busy. It would have been a disaster if the crash had been on a highway.

Although the human seemed basically okay, he was emotionally stunned by the crash and not thinking clearly. As we talked, green liquid was pouring out of his engine and making a stream down the road. I asked him for a leash, and he clipped it to Barkley and hung onto it. Then, there was a very close call. Barkley pulled hard toward the green liquid, which was antifreeze. He lunged with his pink tongue reaching toward it, hoping to lick the sweet smelling liquid. Time slowed as I screamed "NO", thinking that Barkley was about to be seriously poisoned. My scream caused the guy to pull Barkley back. I quickly explained that antifreeze is very poisonous (which the young driver didn't know). Whew, a very very close call for Barkley.

Everything, except for the badly damaged vehicle, turned out fine. After almost an hour of baby-sitting Barkley while the human worked out the logistics of getting his car towed, I headed home. Barkley and his human were alive and well. I'd call that a victory.

Shyla and I arrived home barely in time for an afternoon walk with R, feeling lucky that we were all safe and sound.

Black and White Sunday

We've had a week of lots of small snow storms that have painted our world beautiful. A storm during my snowbike ride...

The next morning (I think that you see why I couldn't bear to make this one black and white)...

R after romping in the powdery snow.

Do dogs understand death?

I've seen a change in R, since around the time when his sister died last summer. He seems more introspective, less puppy-like, and more attached to us.

Of course, I've worried that his more mature (less puppy-like) behavior is related to his health situation. But, there's an alternative explanation, first proposed by our vet. Perhaps K's death deeply affected R. Perhaps he thought that our pack was immutable. Perhaps, prior to K's death, he didn't understand the concept that animals and people can die and then suddenly be gone from our daily life.

He'd been through one death before K's, but it occurred when he was a puppy. His older brother, a sweet yellow Lab (S), died when R was about 6 months old. As we always do, we let R see his brother's body after he was gone. R definitely did not understand that his brother wasn't alive. He tried to play with his departed brother.

R behaved very differently when we let him see K after she was gone. He sniffed her quickly, and then he sat forlornly on the opposite side of the room. It seemed like he understood that something huge and bad had happened.

I've pondered the seemingly permanent change in R over these months. Then, recently, I saw unusual behavior from R when Shyla was gone for an entire day to be spayed. Shyla went to the vet very early in the morning (I'm not sure that R was fully awake yet when she left with the Runner). Then, later in the day, I found him lying directly in front of Shyla's empty crate, gazing into it. He kept returning to that spot, even when I tried to convince him to sit with me. When Shyla finally arrived home, R wanted to lie right next to her all evening and through the next afternoon. Normally, he prefers to have a dog bed to himself but not then.

I suspected that R had been scared that Shyla was gone for good, like K. Of course, Shyla wasn't gone.

But, these events have left me pondering what dogs really understand about death. Do they understand it at all? Or, does the other dog in the family simply disappear in the mind of the remaining one? Are they puzzled about why their sibling is gone?

I used to be convinced that dogs did understand death. When K was about 6 months old, her elderly brother (Astro) died. K was in the room when he was euthanized. She was a well-behaved pup so she did a quiet down-stay while we said goodbye.

In retrospect, that event was too overwhelming for K. When we arrived home afterwards, she instantly developed a whole range of fears that she'd never had before. A crate that she had previously liked suddenly terrified her. A spot on the floor near our bedroom door seemed to be haunted to her. The cracks between the boards of the deck freaked her out. The intensity of these fears decreased over time, but in times of stress throughout her whole life, they'd reappear. I believe that being present when her brother died overwhelmed her emotions and was just too much for her. In that case, I believed that K understood death.

I am curious about what others think about this issue. What have you observed in your remaining dogs when one of your pack has died? Do you think that they understand what happened?

I'm sorry to discuss such a macabre subject today but I suspect that many of you have been through this and I'd be very interested to hear your insights. It might help me to understand the change that I've seen in R.

Shyla's Socialization

In a comment, a reader from the acd6pack asked a great question recently when I wrote about Shyla's socialization in town. The reader asked why I was so intent on in-town socialization for Shyla.

Given how absolutely relaxed Shyla is at home and in the mountains, I can see why someone would wonder about why I think that town-socialization is necessary. Shyla would be thrilled if she could live her entire life in our little slice of paradise and only have to meet our good friends who come by the house.

The main reason for socialization training is that it is inevitable that Shyla will have to go to town throughout her life. First and foremost, our vets are in town. Second, we've made a habit of including our dogs in as much of our life as possible. For example, if we go visit our relatives in the big city, we usually take our dogs with us. Our past dogs have enjoyed being included in those outings - playing with our nephews and walking on city streets filled with novel scents. Moreover, if our dogs are with us, we can stay as long as we want, without worrying about the dogs being alone at home.

I'm fairly certain that Shyla would not be confident, like in the photo below, in the big city yet. I think that we're still a long way from asking her to try to visit the big city. Our smaller town is still plenty of bustle for her.

In past years, our dogs have walked with our nephews when they went trick-or-treating in the big city on Halloween. At this point in time, I absolutely cannot visualize Shyla being able to handle that outing - between the traffic, the hoards of kids, and the costumes - she'd be immobilized with worry. I have hoped that, maybe someday, she'll be able to do this kind of thing.

The other reason for town socialization is that there are lots of people in town compared to our quiet little part of the forest. Up here in the mountains, we could go for days on end without seeing anyone outside our small pack. Shyla is still not consistently comfortable with meeting new people. Again, you might wonder why we want to change that. The main reason is that there will be situations in her life when she has to interact with people who she doesn't know well - like at the vet clinic.

Now, when she's too close to new people who aren't absolutely awesome at fearful dog interactions, she goes "over-threshold" and can't function. She forgets all of her training and takes on a scared posture. In the photo below, she's actually doing a trick that I taught her... but I am fairly sure that she couldn't do it if a stranger were standing nearby.

So, my goal is to help Shyla become more comfortable with the trappings of human civilization, including the bustle of town and encountering new people. In my opinion, she'll have a happier life if she can overcome her shyness and build the confidence to navigate new situations.

We've had a recent backslide in her socialization. She was spayed almost 2 weeks ago and was "very scared" of the people and sounds in the clinic while she recovered there for the day. When I took her to town a week later, she had regressed hugely in her confidence. Believe me, you would not recognize her in town. When she's in town, her eyes and body language never possess the zest and confidence that she emanates in the photo below.

I'm going to keep working at it, but I've decided to change my attitude a bit. Previously, I felt an urgency about socializing Shyla because I thought that, if I worked extremely hard at it, I could help her to completely overcome her fears in short order.

Here we are, almost 6 months later, and I haven't managed to do that, despite my very best effort. My new attitude is that, although I plan to keep working at socializing Shyla, I'm accepting that she may not ever be truly confident out in the big world. She may be a lot like me - a mountain girl who wishes that she could avoid going to town indefinitely.

Most of all, I've realized that, even if Shyla outwardly learns to act confident in new situations, her timidness will always be part of her. She's a very sensitive dog who picks up on small nuances about the people who she loves. Perhaps this sensitivity, which one of my favorite things about her, will make being truly comfortable out in the big bad world very tough for her.

Meeting new people and going new places may require Shyla to "muster her courage" to overcome her innate timidness for the rest of her life. If that's the case, it's okay with me. That's my change in attitude - accepting that she may never be as outgoing and relaxed as my previous dogs in the bustle of the human world.

She's an amazing dog - and we're lucky to have her, no matter what.

Happy Valentine's Day

From our snowbike ride this morning...

And from our snowstorm this evening...

Wordless Wednesday: Contrasts

Brightness

Shadows

Playful

Contemplative

Good news about R

Good news today - R's test for leukemia/lymphoma came back as normal. We're relieved about that, but there is still the issue of figuring out why his blood cells have been increasingly abnormal over the past 6 months. We'll be consulting some more experts, without a doubt. But, for today, we're relieved.

Here R is sitting next to his sister during an evening hike. Several of you have asked if Shyla is "petite", and indeed she is. She recently gained about 6 lbs of muscle but she still is a very small Labrador. I love her size (48 lbs).

We took last week off from socialization training in town while Shyla recovered from her spay surgery. Now, the only remaining sign of her surgery is her shaved patch.

So, we restarted Shyla's socialization training in town on Saturday and again today. Unfortunately, it has not gone as well as I hoped. Her sensitivity to loud sounds seems amped up, and her fearful reactions to strange people and objects seems to have become more extreme again.

Today, we spent an hour with our awesome trainer in town, and she agreed that Shyla has slid substantially backward compared to a couple of weeks ago. I have to admit that I'm feeling a bit discouraged. I like to believe that, if I try hard enough, I can achieve whatever goals I make. Yet, that's not necessarily true when it comes to socializing Shyla, at least not yet. I knew, when I met Shyla, that overcoming an isolated puppyhood is extremely difficult but I threw my heart into it.

We may still achieve that goal but I'm also beginning to accept that we may not. In any case, I'm not giving up yet. My trainer has seen dogs who started out more fearful than Shyla who eventually, after a year or more of training, became normal dogs who could handle everything that life threw at them.

The good news is that, no matter what, we have grown to love Shyla, and we're blessed to have her in our life, even if she's not comfortable with some parts of the bustling world. Moreover, she adores the mountains, forests, and meadows where she spends the majority of her time. She's never scared when she's out in nature.

I won't go into details about her basic training of everyday essential behaviors (heel, stay, etc.) or the details of her new "tricks", except to say that her "basic" training is still going stunningly well. I realized today that her vocabulary of "commands" now exceeds 20!

And she has grown to adore playing retrieving games. Most mornings, I bring a retrieving toy on our snowbike ride but I forgot today. Shyla found a stick, and brought it to me for a game of fetch. She now is almost obsessed with playing fetch, enthusiastically returning the object to my hand time and time again. That's a huge contrast to her apathy about retrieving when I first met her.

 Look at the fire in her eyes!

So, life is a mixed bag right now. We are grateful that R doesn't seem to have cancer. We are grateful that Shyla adores life in the mountains and training games. And, we hope that she can eventually adapt to the bustle of the human world. No matter what, we'll keep loving and caring for our Labraduo.