You Are My Sunshine...

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Small Steps: A Training Odyssey

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Small Steps: A Training Odyssey


From my training journals of  the Nico-Benny Team:  February 20, 2012

So we did it! After many months of individual training, working on spooky Nico's comfort zone and young Benny's discipline, I put them back together on the sled, and off we went. That was a couple of weeks ago, early in February. My husband helped, once he stopped falling off the sled. I ran a lot: in front which keeps Benny going but pisses Nico off because he likes to be out front; beside which makes Nico happy but distracts Benny because he likes to chase my boots; and finally behind which made me happy because it was a prelude to actually being on the sled. So now as of about a week ago they're doing it! Nico gets that they its o.k. for Benny to run beside him, he doesn't have to try to cut him off and "take control"; Benny gets that you don't go off the trail at the least bit of interesting smell or squirrel activity, and also that Nico isn't going to jump him if he pulls even with him; and they are both getting that when they both pull together it is easier than when one does and one doesn't, also they get that when neither pulls, we go nowhere. Today I sent my husband home once we got going (he got the camera so he could catch us coming across the field) and it was just me and my boys on the trail (including the Turtle War Zone -forgive my elation but taking that trail was a psychological victory for me as that was big trouble). We still have a long way to go, but at least we look like and go like a "team" now. Happy!

Nico: Focus Benny, Stay with the job, not the paparazzi.
Benny:  Paparazzi? Is that like Pizza? I'm going that way!
Nico: No.  (Nico is the lead dog in this team.)




Thursday, March 22, 2012

Winter Tales

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This was the crappiest winter ever,  so little snow, and when it did come it was followed hard on the heels by rain, then ice. Nonetheless, by the end of it, which came all too soon - February! -- Nico and Benny were a sledding team.   That made me very happy. It was a long process. I spent a lot of time  running the boys making sure Benny understood his job was to stay on the trail and pull, while developing Nico's confidence as leader.     Rick was on the sled, and since he's never done any of this before with me, it was a totally new learning experience for him too.  Needless to say we had our moments.  The story below describes one of them.

I found this on a web site* "Tell a Golden Retriever to sit and he will. Tell an Alaskan Malamute (or a Siberian) to sit and he may run in a circle around you. He may woo-woo at you. He may ignore you. He may jump up, jump over the gates, retrieve the dumbbell from the next ring, jump back across the gates, and present it to you. He may actually sit. However, harness a Golden and tell him "Gee" and he will turn right. The Malamute will wait for the opening in the trees... " 
*http://www.wayeh.com/aboutsleddogs/description.htm


 So true! A few weeks back my husband was manning the sled, I was still running alongside to make sure my boys understood what was required. My husband is very new at this (only recruited this winter for this training) and isn't too sure of his command words. He wanted them to pick up so started shouting in a very loud excited voice "Haw Haw Haw". Ummm... there were trees to the right and trees to the left, no fork in the trail. Fortunately my dogs are Malamutes not Golden Retrievers. Nico stopped. Benny stopped, I stopped. And all three of us turned as one and looked at Rick who said, "Woops. I meant hike?" Nobody died. I love my Mallies!





Monday, March 12, 2012

Short Stories: Why We Should Sled our "Pets"

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I wrote this for a group on Working Malamutes, but I think this readership will enjoy it:



Why "pet" Malamute owners should train their dogs for  sled, and work with them regularly: Yes, it is by far the best exercise and training for both their bodies and minds, but I have a story that  illustrates a far more compelling excuse – er, I mean reason.

This morning my husband and I were doing the morning leash walk with our boys. My husband was getting well ahead with Nico on a long flexi, I was behind with Benny. Neither one of us are very fit right now due to injuries, but I was lagging more. I didn't want to fall too far behind  so two or three times I called out to my husband, “Could you wait for me?  Hello?  Can you wait?”

You think Mallies have selective hearing!  Husbands are way ahead on that one.  But my husband really can`t always hear very well; what with the snow being crunchy, the wind blowing and his hat down over his ears.  So I`m thinking, forget this.  Instead I drop my voice low and say in a much much quieter tone, ``Yo Nico, Whoa.”  My boy  is at least 100 - 150 feet ahead, but he stops dead in his tracks.  Rick trudges up beside him and says, “Come on Nico, lets go.”  Nico doesn’t budge. Just turns his head and looks directly behind Rick, at me.  Rick, looking to see what he is interested in also turns.   He sees me, and I smile sweetly, batt my eyelashes and say, “Darling, would you mind waiting up for me?”

Yes – Marital bliss: Women who sled their dogs have better marriages. A man who is smart enough to pay attention to his wife’s lead dog, even more so!

I've posted this pic before I think, but really, it says it all.
Nico, I  do love you -- Yes I do! We are a great team!

Thursday, February 9, 2012

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Why I love my Malamute:  Just one more reason
(A Face-Book Post)



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Today I took a chance on skiing with my Nico.

We have no snow to speak of - mostly ice, crust and bit of poof underneath, in some places.  But when we walked the trails this morning it seemed like I could maybe get a run out of it.

So we took off.  Me and my Nico, my spooky Rescue Nico, also the smartest critter of any species much less breed into whose paws anyone would ever want to put their life.

And I did.  Many times over. But his best save today was when I found myself  headed down a hill, not too steep, but because of the crust, it turned out, fast. Then one ski went through the crust and I got turned sideways and couldn’t get out, but the other one was still on top and going fast. So when the other  popped out I was not where I should have been and was going somewhere worse fast with no control whatsoever.  Then my dog got behind me and I thought oh s....  What’s wrong with him? I’m now headed somewhere bad at speed with no control and now my dog has dropped  behind me?

I reach down  to pull the quick release on my ski-jor belt. Whatever Nico is doing, I don't want him mixed up with me in what is about to come next.  |Then thud: I am brought up short, not sharp enough that I fall, just whoa and stop.  Oh oh! I am afraid: worst case scenario:   my Nico got tangled and gone down and hurt himself.  I turn around and standing there in show stacked  alignment with his harness picture perfect and the line just right tight is my Nico,  facing in exactly the opposite direction.  That dog had executed a perfect 180 keeping the line  just right so as not to tangle then drawn up enough  to stop me in my headlong descent into wearing fence wire, and I don’t mean as  a fashion choice.
 
We all know Malamutes think for themselves.  My Malamute not only thinks for himself, he thinks for me!  Nico came to us a death-row Rescue with an abuse history.  He was totally messed up and terrified of all things human. He is still skittish with strangers and  can’t do crowds, but in the comfort of his home and his own woods he has shown us his mind, his heart, and his spirit. These are incomparable, these are Malamute, and we know ourselves to be greatly blessed.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Forward

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Leo and Thunder
On the Move!


Forward

I have been negligent of “Nico’s Story” over the summer and into the fall.  I’m not sure why; perhaps it was more important to just be with Thunder as I felt all through the summer that his time was drawing to a close. We also had another senior to take care of, Leo, a 13 year old Akita cross.  Leo belonged to a friend of mine who had been battling cancer for years. Early in August she left her home, a small hobby farm not far from us, for the last time. I began caring for Leo many years ago, before the illness, tending him and the other farm animals when my friend went travelling.  Thunder came with me when I went to do the work and after feeding and cleaning up after the other animals, I took them for walks together.

He and Leo were both in their prime then. Akitas, like Malamutes, are strong minded, and status oriented.  They can be fierce, and troublesome with other dogs.  But Leo was very smart and good natured to the core.  Thunder has always been  an excellent communicator. Leo learned very quickly  how to be with a dog like Thunder; he understood Malamute, and had a spirit of his own that earned Thunder’s respect.

A few years passed before my friend’s illness presented itself and then intensified.  She began having to spend more time in the city for treatments. Leo came here to stay with us while she was away.  By the time he came here for his final visit, ours was already his second home, he and Thunder were old friends, and Nico and Benny well accustomed to his presence and the small changes in routine that went with it.

But Leo arrived in very poor condition. He was thirteen years old, had cancerous tumours himself, and in the confusion that attends the final days of a person in serious decline living alone he’d gone without pain killers.  He was anxious; I am convinced he knew his owner was terminally ill.  Then, in the short interval between his owner’s departure, and my being called to pick him up, he’d fallen and gotten trapped in a window well.  I found him there when I arrived at the farm, got help to hoist him out and brought him to our house. He was scared, exhausted and I thought, done for. But when I helped him out of the vehicle he took one look, saw where he was and marched, if not quite steady, right up the driveway to the front door.  He laid down on the grass like he was coming home, but didn’t move further.   I watched him puffing away and thought, “Well, we’ll see.”

Then Thunder came out of the house. He walked right over to Leo and seemed to say, “Leo, get up.  It's not over 'till its over.  Time to do business. Let’s not embarrass ourselves.”  So Leo got up, and they went down the trail. Not far, just far enough to keep up appearances.

By the next morning Leo was a different dog. He continued to grow in confidence and strength.  He put on weight and soon was announcing visitors if not intruders with that big Akita guardian woof.  It was clear to us that he was drawing assurance and strength of purpose from Thunder’s example.  Equally obvious was  Thunder’s enjoyment of  an addition to his pack who was so much closer to him in age and energy than the younger boys, Benny and Nico,  in the yard.  The old fellows gave one another space, but kept track of each other in every regard, including checking out bodily functions.

Leo soon established a guardian position on the hillside where he could watch all entrances to our property, the garage and the house.  Thunder meanwhile gravitated to a corner in the flowerbed at the back of the house where he could keep an eye on the youngsters  in the yard, the kitchen and of course the refrigerator, as well as Leo in his position up front.  Thunder eventually dug a hole back there; I knew then that he was telling me something important.

September came around, and we saw  both Leo and Thunder choosing to spend more and more time in the bedroom rather than out of doors.  Then one day I went in and found the two of them lying at the foot of the bed. Their heads were just inches apart and they were looking directly at each other. It was quite a picture – Akita, Malamute, two adult males who had not been raised together, but respectful and, if not overtly affectionate, certainly bonded.

It seemed to me that I had interrupted a serious conversation. I imagine it went like this: Leo says, “Thunder, you go first.  I’m scared.”  Thunder says, “Hey, how come I always have to go  first?”  Leo says, “Because you’re the Malamute.  Malamutes are never scared. They always go first. ”  Thunder says “Leo. You're Akita. Akita's aren't scared either."  Leo says, "Ah. You forget: I'm an Akita cross. The cross part is scared." Thunder says, "Oh. Alright. It's true. I’m not scared. I’ll check it out. When I come back for you, be ready.”  Leo says, “I’ll be ready.”

Thunder stopped eating at the end of September.  Our vet gave him the grace with dignity and without suffering on October the 2nd. We buried him in the spot he had chosen behind the house in those last weeks.  Leo went into serious decline shortly after. Meanwhile his owner had passed away and we attended her memorial service the following weekend.   Then one week later, on the14th of October, Leo went down and couldn’t get up. We called our vet; she explained what had happened to him, and eased his way.

After a while I was able to write to our vet, Dr. Rosemarie Bahr to thank her. I respect and admire Dr. Rose deeply. She does the hardest thing in the world with sincere compassion, gentle humanity and the absolute confidence we all need most as heartbreak beckons.  Not only did she come at a time of great inconvenience to her for Thunder, but was kind enough to do the same also for Leo although he was not in her long-time charge.

Because I don’t have a better way of describing how much it meant to us to have Leo in our lives, and in Thunder’s at this time, I share part of that letter here:

I find myself grieving Leo and Thunder together, and that is right and true.  For Leo ought to be grieved as every dog should, and he has no one left who would feel this sad at his passing. Thunder was the consummate pack dog, and is much happier  running in my heart with a partner  than alone. How fitting then, that he make this final journey with this, a friend of many years, who so easily embraced  the Malamute way, even while remaining entirely his remarkable Leo-self.


I have to be sad for a while.  Loss does that to you; it’s the price you pay for love.  But always, better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.  Sled dogs don’t go backwards, only forwards, and the final honouring of Thunder’s life and memory has to be in my doing just that, regardless of how heavy the load behind.

Forwards now.  Forwards.






Thursday, October 13, 2011

Thunder


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THUNDER


 Thunder passed away on October 2nd, 2011. 
 He is deeply missed by us all. 


 In his prime, 2004
.


With his boy, Sebastian,  Marmora Sno-Fest, 2005


 With Sebastian:
 The Adventure Team



 With his Best Buddy
Bernese Mountain Dog Teddy  (2000-2007)

With Nico: His Protege


With Kandi, his friend, and Benny, his young lookalike and second protege


 Thunder
My Thunder, Always and Forever

Sled dogs go forwards and not backwards,
and that is what you would have us do,
but if only for an hour I could reverse the clock
it would be to run  just one more time with you.


Sunday, June 26, 2011

Full House

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 Three Dog Nights



Clockwise:  Benny, Thunder, Nico, that is if you are talking about the placement of face shots this collage. In terms of getting up in the morning and who starts at what time, the order is a little different. All three boys are sleeping inside most nights now. There are just too many mosquitos and deer flies out there and they are especially vicious when the humidity is high. So after our evening walk we brush off what we can, scurry into the house and curl up in the basement where it is cool and blessedly bug free, at least after the first few minutes of deer fly squishing and mosquito bashing.

Come morning its Benny who starts things moving.  He remains the most loving, overtly affectionate Malamute I have ever met.  Just before daylight he climbs in to bed with me.  Anyone who ever had a child I'm sure remembers deluding themselves with the notion that if they let the toddler  climb into bed with them
they would settle down and everyone could grab another hour or so of sleep.  Settling down happens for about three minutes.  Benny lies there very quietly just gently pushing his head against my chin.  I stroke his head and then as I doze off and stop petting him he pushes a little harder.  Soon he's flat on his back wriggling, wanting his tummy rub, and pushing me with his legs at the same time. If I stop rubbing  he pushes harder. He is now an adult Malamute of a working dog line. His legs are long and strong and   when he pushes there is no ignoring it!

Needless to say we are soon up and about.  Benny goes out into the yard and we collect Nico, who spends the night under the bed upstairs where Rick sleeps.  I would sleep there too, except  when all the dogs are in, they all want to be in the same room with us and that's just too much Malamute in one room.  So I sleep downstairs with Benny, Rick sleeps upstairs and Nico, who long ago claimed the space under our bed as our safe place, crawls in and doesnt' come out 'till morning.

That is, until I put Benny out in the yard. Then Rick brings Nico to the back door and both dogs get some yard time before breakfast.  Great.  It's only about five a.m.  Rick and I crawl back into bed congratulating ourselves on building the yard so the boys can have a play time in the cool hours of early morning while we steal a few more minutes of sleep.  Something like the thinking parents have when they make the back yard  child safe and fill it with interactive toys, thinking that the kids can enjoy the sandbox and the teeter totter in the morning while they doze.

Of course, the first thing that happens in the yard is the singing lesson. Benny gets in Nico's face, barking, or at least making the Malamute approximation of a bark.  He wants Nico to play  but Nico isn't ready yet to rip and tear. So instead he starts to sing, opening up a full throated howl which Benny tries to imitate.  They do this in  the afternoon as well, and then it  becomes a full fledged operatic training session. Benny actually tries to match pitch with Nico, his voice breaking, and faltering, and then as it would appear he gains breath control, finally joining Nico in full coloratura. In the morning however it quickly deteriorates to rather  silly   yips and woofs. Then they start to run.

That lasts for about fifteen minutes. We watch from the bedroom window and it is better than television. By now of course we are fully awake, but have not quite abandoned the hope of more sleep.  That comes soon though as both boys suddenly realize they haven't had breakfast yet, and that the waiters are just on the other side of that screened window watching them.

So, at Nico's instigation they leave off playing and begin to yip and yodel in that time honoured way that every Malamute ever born has used to manipulate his or her people into delivering food.  That's it for sleep: we're up and about now and its breakfast for the boys, a walk in the woods and forget about sleeping in. Forever!

Forever.  I like that word when it comes to our dogs, which brings us to Thunder.  He is still with us and if not a hundred per cent all the time, still enjoys quality of life.  He doesn't sleep outside at all anymore, or at least not in the yard. He still likes his porch and asks to go out, or come in in the course of the night sometimes two or three times.  So in terms of the clock, Thunder is pretty much a twenty-four hour concern.  That's alright.  Rick has gotten used to getting up and opening the door for him and very nearly does it in his sleep now.

We don't exactly know why Thunder is so restless sometimes.  He is on medication that eases the pain but we think maybe despite that sometimes he just can't get comfortable. Sometimes he settles if I lie down on the floor beside him. Other times he doesn't want to be touched, just wants to know we are  nearby.  Come morning though he is as lively as the other two, coaching the play in the yard from the window without sparing  his voice or the peace of the neighbourhood.

Best of all, is when after eating, when Rick takes him and Benny out into the front field to do business.  He starts out with Benny on the long leash.  Thunder doesn't need to be attached anymore as he is no longer interested in running off anywhere, and if he were to decide he was we know we  can now outrun him.  Benny sticks with Thunder like glue, so once Rick gets them out in the middle of the field he lets Benny loose. Then they run in together. This was the way we used to let Thunder run off his energy when he was in his prime. He always got a treat when he made it to the front door  and so you can be sure he always ran straight for the porch every time.  Now  he sometimes runs  straight while Benny tries to cut him off, but other times gives in to Benny's playfullness and runs in circles with him until he remembers he's not a pup anymore, then heads up the hill to the house.


Thunder makes me think of my father, who like Thunder suffers severely from arthritis and has some substantial structural damage that makes walking, much less running, a decision. However, if he hears a  a fiddle tune, a jig or a reel, my father cannot keep his feet still and then he's up and dancing like he did in his youth. Of course, he can't walk for a week after that.  Thunder similarly, spends the day getting over his ten minute indulgence, but is a wonderful thing to watch him him play like that. Thunder has always been a pretty serious Malamute, since he came to us anyway.  He and Nico never played much:  I think it might have been important with Thunder to keep the lines of authority very clear with Nico.  With Benny however he seems to feel no such imperative. Perhaps this is because Benny so obviously and consistently shows a puppy attitude.  Whatever the reason, they make a delightful Grampa and his boy pair together.  It gives us great joy to see Thunder having fun with Benny, and then curling up near him when they come in the house like the great old friends they have become.

This is Benny's great gift: his ability to find a way to get along with just about anybody, and even more, to get them to play and enjoy life.  I suppose it is what any young creature brings to a household: a breath of fresh air, the lightness of heart that makes the day seem short even when it starts at five a.m.  He and Nico are now quite established in their understanding of each other. They enjoy  the yard together during the cooler, less bug ridden times of  day and do continue to sleep together out there on dry cool nights.  Nico, a middle aged dog now, no longer has the frantic energy of the young Malamute to work out, his own that is. He does however have Benny's energy to content with, and that is keeping him fit and young in body.  Meanwhile Benny  finds in Nico a strong, athletic adult dog who can certainly keep up with him for having the muscle development and endurance of an adult, if not the frantic but short lived energy of a yearling who has yet to learn what it is to pull in harness. It is Benny who starts the play to be sure, but it is Nico who, once Benny is worn out, shows that he is just getting warmed up.  That's when I put Nico in harness and he hauls the wood dumped in our driveway up to the woodshed, while Benny, like any other teenager I ever met, lies around on his back in the yard, all four legs in the air, plugged in if not to his IPOD, then the birdsong and frog-croak equivalent.

The Benny - Nico - Thunder interaction, while endless fascinating to me on a daily basis, has become something natural and easy to live with, therefore less subject to minute circumspection.  I haven't been writing a lot in this blog as a result. I will try to post more pictures as we go along, and as we get better with the camera.  Meanwhile I have been working more on Nico's back story.  Nico will always be my miracle dog: another installment describing more of what that miracle entailed will be coming soon.