Big Dog Blog

Owning a dog has so many benefits.  On top of the great enjoyment I've had from Laddie's company, taking him for walks has also led to my making human as well as canine friends.  It's great to be out in the country on a lovely morning with a bunch of nice people, watching the dogs play.  They naturally form a pack and get on with enjoying life together.  This morning one new owner remarked that someone had got grumpy with him because the new owner's dog was friendly and the other guy's dog wasn't.  Well!  Like dog, like owner.  I have only once met a dog with a questionable temperament which had a pleasant owner. Almost always an anti-social dog has learned his behaviour from his anti-social owner.  Where the owners are sociable, so are the dogs.

I remember first meeting someone walking a Newfoundland.  Wow, that's a big dog.  Now I know several people who have them, all friendly. So I thought it would be fun to get all 5 dogs and their owners together on a bright morning, in front of Bonnie's camera.  I suppose I thought they might actually line up and pose, which was a daft idea.  The tripod was soon dispensed with, and replace by action shots of big dogs having fun.  One owner was indisposed, so her dog also missed the party, but as those there want to do it again there will be another chance for her.

Shaun and Sue brought Winston and Molly.  Molly is not so big as one might expect for a Newfie, but she makes up for it in energy and enthusiasm. Winston, recently rehomed from rescue, is dedicated to enjoying his new lease of life and throws himself into everything with abandon.

Mel and Julie brought the massive Darcy - 88kg, 194lbs, 13st 12lbs - who is 2, and their 7 month old puppy Bella.  Bella is a typical puppy, apart from her size, and into everything. Darcy is laid back and rarely runs.  But he has a very determined saunter, and can take some keeping up with.

It hadn't actually occured to me, until this morning, that the dogs might not get on when they met.  But I needn't have worried, even briefly. They simply got to know each other and began to play together. The owners socialised just as well.  Thankfully their introductory ritual does not involve sniffing rear ends.  But dog owners always have a common interest to talk about.

And in such a popular dog-walking spot as Twywell Hills and Dales, there were lots of other walkers and dogs about.  Most came across to inspect the massive bundle of play at close quarters.  One or two of the passing dogs were momentarily put off by the sheer size of the Newfies, but a few friendly sniffs and licks and they joined in easily enough.  One little boy out with his family and their Spaniel proved too interesting to Bella, who licked him in a way she knew to be friendly he was less sure about. And one passer-by asked how old Bella was. "7 months" came the reply. The inquirer was astonished and her response was very brief, with few enough letters for the fingers of one hand.

It was great fun.  Bonnie took nearly 50 photos, which I have put, unedited, on Picasaweb.  We'll do it again before too long.

Dog Blog

Very early in my dog-owing life I realised that going out in pouring rain at the dog's accustomed walk time was part of the deal.  Sometimes this involved rather long walks as Laddie seemed to love playing in the rain, which is odd because he doesn't like getting his feet wet. But these days the Old Boy isn't up to a long walk any more. All he wants from a walk is to socialise - with other dogs certainly, but also with his human friends. His arthritis varies with the weather - cold and dry is best for him - so how far he can go and how much he can do is also very variable.  He has developed a technique which involves finding a good spot and lying down there to get the weight off his feet and waiting for his mates to go past. On warm summer days this is fine for me - I take a book, some coffee, and enjoy the rest and chatting to the other dog owners. Cold winter mornings before dawn are a different proposition.  I have a different priority: Laddie's bodily functions have to be attended to (absolutely an incidental for him) so I can go back to the warm indoors.

This going home business has developed into another barometer of how Laddie is feeling.  When we were first walking together he had endless ways to prevaricate and avoid getting into the car.  Now, if he's having a bad day, I only have to open the tailgate and he gets up, comes over, and climbs in.  There are stages in between.

Laddie and his pal Finley

Today it was chucking it down, rain bordering on sleet, really nasty.  Laddie was as keen to go out as always, but I didn't fancy the nature reserve we normally go to and socialise, so we went to a local park.  My priority is simple: Laddie's natural functions and home.  His priority was the same as always, socialise.  So when we got there I headed for the trees for Laddie's convenience, Laddie stood sniffing the air, from which he can tell which dogs are in the park and in what direction and probably a whole lot more.  The result of his nasal survey was negative - no-one he knew, no dogs.  So he lay down on the sopping wet grass to wait.

My only option is encouragement, with biscuits, to wander a few steps and give peristalsis a chance to work.  He saw no reason to accommodate me.  After about 10 minutes of this I was wet, wet, wet, and he simply didn't care. Then suddenly someone we knew came into the park - someone walking an interestingly mis-matched pair of dogs, a Dachshund that barks a lot and a very friendly German Shepherd bitch. She's a nice dog, and rather focused on her ball.

As soon as he saw her Laddie leaped to his feet, drew himself up to his full height (he's big for a Rough Collie) and sauntered over.  She saw him, sniffed him quickly, and went off after her ball.  By now Laddie's coat was waterlogged, but that didn't matter, he walked briskly after her.  But she's young and ball-centred and was soon way off.  A year or more ago he would have chased her, but he knows he can't do that now. But he also knows that dog walks are mainly circular, and having gone, she would return, so he lay down again and settled in to wait.  It was still pouring down, and my priority was now to go home as soon as I could get Laddie back into the car.

I got out my box of biscuits, and tried to lure him back.  No contest.  His options are go get a biscuit or wait and socialise with a nice female. Well, what red-blooded male would choose the biscuit?  In that circumstance he did what he always does: he puts his ears down against his head, looks steadfastly away from me, and simply ignores me. Water was running off my glasses and down my nose. After trying to exert my authority as Pack Leader without success I resorted to my authority as Human Being.  This involves standing in front of him and taking his lead out of my pocket.  It worked; he hauled himself to his feet and began to slowly plod back to the car, finding countless reasons to stop and sniff on the way, his reluctance obvious to anyone.

A winter sunrise lights up Laddie

Back at the car he put his feet in his sitting area and waited to be lifted in.  Then he gave me that look that accuses me of mean selfishness and cruelty when he was in with a chance.  I gave him 3 biscuits and he forgave me, so we came home.

Some days recently he has been so poorly with his arthritis I have wondered whether it was right to extend his life.  But those days are not too frequent, and on days like this when the Old Boy exhibits such character and is so full of himself and what he wants to do (especially in the case of bitches in season) and is so evidently enjoying himself, my worries are dispelled.

Whose got control of the remote control?

When we got home and he'd been dried and fed he was alternately affectionate and frisky and a transparently happy dog. It has been such a pleasure and privilege to share our home with him. Long may it continue to be so.

I wish I understood people

I take my dog to Twywell Hills and Dales, where both he and I have friends we can walk with. Some early mornings when the sky is clear at about 7 a.m. there seems no nicer place to be. But there has been, over the last several months, a growing problem.

Most of the dog walkers understand the reasons for clearing up after their dog. Leaving the mess for someone to tread in is bad enough. We all know how nasty cleaning your shoes can be. And being country people, many of them are only too aware of the problems that the bugs in dog faeces can cause to sheep and cattle. These nasty pathogens can survive in the soil for several years, so the potential for damage is long lasting. And there are problems for humans too. Happily the most serious forms of these are not found frequently. No-one knows how many digestive issues stem from getting dog mess on your hands. But if you get it in your eye, the damage can be serious and long lasting. The Daily Mail recently carried a story about a child who fell in a playground and got some of the stuff on her hand. She was crying and rubbed her eye. At the time the story was carried she was in danger of losing the eye. The pathogen damages the eye and the result can cause sight problems, even (thankfully very rarely) blindness. But however rare, it happens, as the Daily Mail story shows. And one child injured in this way is one too many.

So a group of responsible dog walkers got together with the site management to discuss what could be done, and several ideas came up, most of which will be implemented. One of these was to try to educate the public with a series of posters, believing that most people are reasonable. That has indeed proved to be the case, and there has been an improvement since the posters went up.

But there are others who take no notice. Whether they don't care, can't be bothered, are too ignorant or anti-social, or just think they won't get caught I do not know.

This morning I noticed that one of the polite explanatory posters explaining why dog walkers are asked to clear up was not in place. A closer look showed that it had been ripped off, and it was lying in the path. I picked it up, and found that it had been stamped into a heap of dog mess, so I got a handful of the stuff. Happily I carry clean-up bags and so on, and was able to limit the damage. But what kind of attitude is that? What kind of person not only allows their dog to shit on the path but tears down the "Clear it up please" poster close by and turns it into a trap?

Dog wardens now patrol Twywell Hills and Dales. They are empowered to issue fixed penalty notices. So someone soon is going to find their bad behaviour is expensive. There are few bad dogs, but plenty of bad owners.