pet connection

Two years ago today, I was coming back from the veterinarian’s with Faith, the puppy whose late arrival  did not in any way suggest the last born was shy about embracing her new world. She may have needed a little help to get out from behind a stillborn sibling, but she hasn’t needed any help since. That has been true of all six of the surviving  ZinKuties,  who have amazed and appalled their owners (including me, for Faith was always meant to be mine) in near-equal measure. (The nickname of the litter came from the sire, Zin, and the mother’s nickname, McKutie.)

McKenzie’s litter was the first I’d ever planned, and I did it with the help of her co-owner (my friend Mary, in Texas) and the owner of sire, Zin (my friend Katie, in Minnesota). For both dogs, the preparations were extensive, with screenings and certifications for every possible health problem for which screenings and certifications exist. Both dogs are champions, and both had been trained and given enough challenge as hunting dogs to prove they could function as hard-working companion retrievers. We were also satisfied with their intelligence, their hunting drive and and cooperative instincts,  their gentle loving behavior towards people (McKenzie is so easy to get along with that she’s going on book tour with me), and good-natured tolerance of dogs and cats.

My veterinarian was involved early, helping to coordinate the prebreeding testing before and handling the prenatal care during the pregnancy. And of course, he was on hand to deliver the last puppy, check over the other healthy ones and help me decide to end the life of the one with a birth defect he could not survive. (The last puppy to die, a tiny little boy, lasted only a few hours after I took them all back home.)

After such a rough start I was a mess, convinced that the other six would also all die. Fortunately, my friends helped me — Mary and Katie from afar, and Judy from across the street. (And yes, it’s very “circle of life” that I helped Judy to say good-bye to her Lizzie two years to the hour when she helped me say hello to the first of the ZinKuties.) I’ll never forget the kindness of the people here as well, and especially the help of Pat, a/k/a “The Other Pat,” who fed the daily weights of the puppies into a spreadsheet and helped reassure me that they were all gaining well, as well as helping me see which two needed more time at the “milk bar.” Pat … these are your puppies as much as anyone’s, and I’ll be forever grateful.

Mary and Katie flew here when the puppies were eight weeks old, and we put them through two days of evaluations. They were all far bolder than Mary had expected, and all went to working homes except Faith, who stayed here with my promise to provide her with enough meaningful work to do (which is part of why she’s in Texas with Mary now, learning to be a hunting dog while I am traveling the country on book tour).

Today, two years later, they are all companion hunters and family dogs, and a two of them are also heading for high-level field competitions as well. They are all strong, smart, athletic and challenging dogs who are all with people who can handle them, people who love them when they’re not cussing at them under their breath. They are just beginning their lives as working dogs, but they are already long-established in their lives as family.

Happy Birthday to the ZinKuties! In birth order, they are: Jack, Parker, Dooley, Keen, Maya and Faith. Raising them was an experience I’ll never forget — and one I’m not tempted to try again, any time soon. Raising healthy, happy and well-socialized puppies is a full-time job, and the work truly kicked my butt.

In the months to come they’ll all have their own screening tests, and we’ll start to consider which, if any, of the dogs have something to offer future generations.

Top: The boys, left to right: Jack, Dooley and Parker. Above: The girls, left to right: Keen, Faith and Maya.

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Note: This post was prepared by Liz last week, before the recent tragedy that claimed her husband Paul’s life. We delayed the posting of this column until a more appropriate time. Liz asked us to go ahead and start posting her writing again. Quite frankly, we just couldn’t yet bear to edit for tense.

It was just a little more than two years ago when Archer was going through therapy dog training, and I began the series of posts titled, “The Making of a Therapy Dog.”* Archer turned out to be an awesome therapy dog and has often visited a Veterans Administration center with my husband, Paul. They visit grizzled Vietnam war vets and young-faced wounded warriors from this generation. Everyone greets Archer with open arms.

Now it’s Sisko’s turn. It’s hard for me to believe he’s actually old enough to begin therapy dog training, but he is. He has grown up so fast and will be a year old in April.

A couple weeks back, Sisko and I began a first week Canine Good Citizen class. I don’t anticipate any problems as his obedience skills are very good; his only weakness is a tendency to lie down when left in a sit stay. We’re working on that. Everything else –  heel, down, stay, and come are wonderful. His “leave it” is excellent; once told to ignore something, it no longer exists. He doesn’t jump on people, doesn’t paw or scratch, and never touches anyone with his mouth. Well, except for the occasional teeny tiny tongue flick lick. He’s very social with other dogs. I don’t anticipate any problems but we’ll go through the class and earn his CGC.

The therapy dog class also began last week. Sisko was introduced to the command, “Go say hi!” and learned how to approach people so they could touch him. That was fine with him; people can pet him. He leaned into their hands.

During Sisko’s puppyhood I neglected to introduce him to wheelchairs and walkers. I have no idea why; I usually do it as a matter of course. But he learned what they were in the first class. He saw them move, heard them rattle, and walked up to investigate – no problems.

He also learned how to approach wheelchairs from the side – left or right – and to stand still so people in a chair can reach him. We also did the same thing to walkers.

My only reservation is that Sisko is still young. Most of our previous Aussies have been mentally immature at just a year of age. They can really still be silly at this age. I don’t want to force him into therapy dog work and if he appears to be too immature I’ll slow down. However, although Sisko is always willing to play, he’s an old soul. He’s serious for his age and very loving. I do think this is going to be perfect for him.

In coming weeks, I’ll post about Sisko’s progress and perhaps Kim will add some notes about Harper, too, as she also has the goal of becoming a therapy dog.

Photo credit: Bashir on the left, Sisko on the right – almost as tall as Bashir. Photo by Liz Palika.

*(As a minor side note, that series was nominated as Best Regular Blog in the 2009 Dog Writers Association of America writing competition.)

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It’s hard to believe, but Sisko is nine months old. In some respects it seems like we’ve had him for much longer; I guess because he’s fit into our household so well. On the other hand, where have the past few months gone?

Those months have been a huge learning experience for Sisko. He’s learning the basic obedience exercises and already able to demonstrate most of them in our classes. He loves agility and we’re doing some trick training. Although he’s too young to begin carting, he’s walked next to Bashir as he pulls his cart and wasn’t worried about it at all.

He’s been to the Oceanside Harbor, to the department store, the garden center, to my Mom’s house to play with her dog, Ginger, and to some friends’ homes. He’s been to the beach, the park, and downtown.

When he first left the mountains of Arizona to come to our household in Southern California, Sisko was worried about some of the new things he encountered. Sea lions barking was cause for concern, as was the noisy trash truck. A remote control plane flying overhead was really strange.

The first time he watched Paul ride his motorcycle into the garage was worrisome. But then, when this weird looking thing got off the bike and pulled its head off; well, that was just completely wrong in Sisko’s mind (Paul wears a complete safety suit and a full face helmet.) But once Paul took off the helmet and talked to him, Sisko calmed down. Sometimes I see him looking at Paul as if he’s waiting for Paul to take off his head again, though.

As he’s adapted I see that cautious side of his personality much less. Instead, a confident adolescent is emerging. But of course, that confident side of him brings its own issues.

Bashir has been a wonderful older brother and has been very patient. But as Sisko has gained confidence Bashir has also been a little less tolerant with him. Let’s just say there are times when Sisko spends some time on his back with Bashir, ummm, well, teaching him manners. For the most part, though, the two dogs get along wonderfully. Bashir is a awesome dog and Sisko couldn’t have a better teacher.

I tell my dog training students all the time a puppy is a promise of the future. It’s going to be fun to see what the future brings for Sisko.

Photo credit: Above: Sisko on his first day at home with us; Below: Five months later Sisko (on the right) with Bashir. Photos by Liz Palika

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Last night’s basic obedience class at Kindred Spirits was the third week in the schedule.

In the previous two weeks, the dogs and owners had been introduced to training skills such as sit, down, stay, watch me, and loose leash walking. Most of the dogs and their owners were showing progress and I was hearing lots of “Yeah! Good job!”

However, one woman was having problems. In speaking with her while we were taking attendance, she said the dog is fine at home but distracted everywhere else. I explained what was going on there, that it was normal, and with practice and maturity her adolescent dog would get better.

But I had a suspicion that something more was going on she wasn’t fessing up to, so I asked my partners at Kindred Spirits, Kate and Petra, to keep an eye on her as I taught the class. Soon, Kate pulled the woman and her dog to the side of class for several minutes.

After class, Kate said the dog, an Australian Cattle Dog, was a gift from her adult son. The woman had not wanted a dog, and she said even if she did, she wouldn’t have chosen a puppy. Additionally, she would not have chosen a cattle dog. Now she’s unhappy with the situation, unhappy with her son, and unhappy with the dog. Not a good combination.

Kate told her that obviously we couldn’t change the situation, but if she wanted to place the dog, we’d help her get in touch with cattle dog rescue. Meanwhile, Kate said “You’re unhappy with the dog and showing your displeasure very clearly, but this situation isn’t his fault!”

This happens far too often. We start two to four new classes a month at KS, and in every class there there are at least one if not two older students who have been given a puppy by an adult child. In the vast majority of the cases the parent did not want a dog, was not given any say as to the breed, and often the breed and/or age of the dog wasn’t appropriate. That just sets the entire situation to fail. How sad for everyone.

Last summer, we had an elderly woman. She told us she was in her late 80s, and her 60 year-old son gave her a Golden Retriever puppy. She would have been happy with an older adult Golden, she said, but not a puppy. Before she came to see us, the puppy had already knocked her down several times, and the last time she was hurt. We told her the best thing she could do at that point was call her son and tell him to come get the dog.

My Mom did get a puppy after my Dad passed away. She debated with herself – puppy versus adult dog – and decided she was still active enough to handle a puppy. She also took the time to research breeds. I answered questions when she asked, but she made her own decision and decided that a Cocker mix puppy would suit her well. It has! Ginger has been great company for Mom.

In many cases, though, I think a dog who is past the puppy and adolescent stage would be a wiser choice, especially if the older owner is having some mobility or health issues. Sometimes, too many people remain stuck in the mindset that only a puppy will do.

I also understand why the adult kids might think that Mom (or Dad) might ‘need’ a dog especially if the parent is living alone. The dog is companionship —  loving and affectionate, tough, security, exercise, and social interaction. I know I’m happy that Mom has a dog in the house with her.

But in my humble opinion, the parent needs a say in the decision. He or she needs to be able to say ‘no’ without fear of hurting the adult child’s feelings. The parent also needs to be able to have a say in the breed or mixtures thereof; the size, the personality, the temperament, and the age of the dog. The best scenario would be if the adult child offers to buy the dog and pay future veterinary needs (and if needed, food and toys and other expenses) and let the parent choose her own dog.

Photo credit: Archer as a puppy, Liz Palika.

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I just heard from one of the breeders, Karen, that the puppies were born today. Mom and babies doing fine.

She promises photos soon.

SIGH…….

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