So in my last post, I mentioned how well Breeze is doing. Well, I accidentally tested that yesterday. I am back from a week long trip shooting photographs on the set of the TV show Meteorite Men, and picked the girls up from the dog resort (my friend’s house), where they are spoiled rotten with attention, plush dog beds, canned dog food, new squeaky toys, and a big yard that is perfect for greyhound crazy dog laps. Well, truth be told, when I have gone to pick up Willow there in the past she ignores me because when I show up it means she has to leave the luxury accommodations for the more basic lifestyle of home.
Reports on the dogs while they were there were that they were all getting into mischief. Someone (Breeze I’m looking at you) had jumped on the bed. There were laps around the house in the mornings. Then the stop and bark at each other to start the chase again. But, most importantly, Breeze going up to Mark – hanging out, getting snackys, letting him pet her – a huge accomplishment for her.
When I drove up to the house I thought they wouldn’t even recognize me. I might as well have had a face lift, eradicated my scent and become the invisible woman; for all that they would know me. “Aren’t you the person who used to chauffer us to the dog park in the mornings? Hmmm. Fine - fetch me my slippers and bring the car ‘round.”
But I was greeted with an absolute melee, pandemonium, bedlam, free-for-all. The cool part was that all 6 dogs were in the welcoming committee. Willow did play it off shortly after I arrived and went to lay on the doggie bed.
Anyway we got home and they all crashed out on the floor in the living room – not too far from me on the couch. Breeze had fallen asleep, deeply asleep, and I didn’t know she was out. I reached down to pet her. She went from asleep to awake and standing, by way of leaping straight up about 3 feet, in half a heart beat. The other dogs were then on their feet wondering what the commotion was all about. There was mass confusion. You would have thought I had jumped out at her wearing a guy mask and swinging a stick. It took a while to settle down the house. Then I goofed and turned off the ceiling fan (because it is freezing). She didn’t like that with the speed changed the fan blades were now visible. She eyed them cautiously and moved to the other room. 3 steps forward and 2 steps back.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
THE TRANSFORMATION
I got home yesterday to a different dog. Let me ‘splain. No, there is too much…let me sum up.
I’ve been gone for 3 weeks. During which time a friend went above and beyond, by picking up the girls twice a week to take them to dog play day. Do you know how difficult it is to transport 5 dogs, 4 of which haven’t been out for exercise in days? Just getting the leashes on them is enough work to require a nap.
This morning, we met the greyhound group at the paddock for their bi-weekly run. My girl, Breeze, was confident, prancy, had her head held high, ears up, looked people in the eye, came up to the whole group of us humans, demanded attention from us, and even took snacky treats from the newest addition to the group. It was as if she was possessed with the spirit of a normal dog; one with confidence, no fear or worries.
One that hadn’t been abused.
Yesterday her behavior was just to a whole new level.
Barb said (gleefully, might I add) at the last play date one topic of discussion was the abrupt change in Breeze’s demeanor over the past 3 weeks while I've been gone. They decided Breeze has been working me; complete falsifying of data, she has me bamboozled and wrapped around her little toe, she’s milking it. Then, on a more contemplative note, relayed that they (Phyllis and Barb knew her a year ago when she was at the kennel and have seen the transformation that has happened) think this most recent improvement was because she was incredibly lonely since I’ve been gone so long and was at the play dates without me as her safe place.
Basically she had to get her affection, touch, and security from someone else. And she did.
Barb also thought Gregarious Breeze would revert back to Cautious Breeze once I returned and was amazed when she continued with her new found independence. Phyllis who did the transport of the dogs, is now calling Breeze, Bobble-head Breeze. Something Breeze does with just a limited few (me, Sheryl, her foster Mom who took her from the kennel originally and started this whole journey, and Dawn, who walked with us with her two greys most mornings) is to bobble her head back and forth almost like she is shaking her head ‘no’ when she comes trotting towards us and she’s really happy. The happier and more comfortable she is the bigger the sweep of the head bob. Apparently she has been quite happy and comfortable the past few trips to the play date.
So as I stood there catching flies, watching my girl in amazement, I realized that there was a huge hurdle crossed while I was not there to witness it and in fact the reason it was crossed was because I was not there to witness it. My girl…growing up.
I’ve been gone for 3 weeks. During which time a friend went above and beyond, by picking up the girls twice a week to take them to dog play day. Do you know how difficult it is to transport 5 dogs, 4 of which haven’t been out for exercise in days? Just getting the leashes on them is enough work to require a nap.
This morning, we met the greyhound group at the paddock for their bi-weekly run. My girl, Breeze, was confident, prancy, had her head held high, ears up, looked people in the eye, came up to the whole group of us humans, demanded attention from us, and even took snacky treats from the newest addition to the group. It was as if she was possessed with the spirit of a normal dog; one with confidence, no fear or worries.
One that hadn’t been abused.
I spent most of the morning open mouthed, gaping at her behavior. No comprehension. There were only a couple of times she shied away from someone and that was the result of quick motion from one of the guys. She went up to one guy and leaned against him as he smothered her with attention. She absolutely demanded Dawn pet her. She stood at the Barb’s side, head pressed to leg, sopping up the affection. She behaved as she does when it is just me around.
Now I know most of you are like “Huh? What’s this?” You feel as though you’ve accidentally picked up the second book in a series and read it before the first and you have all those typical plot questions. “Wait: her cousin was a vampire who was killed by an evil vampire after turning a were after stealing a bracelet from her girlfriend the Queen because the Queen is marring the King of Arkansas? Huh? I didn’t know she had a cousin. Did I miss a book?”
Anyway a little back story, Breeze is the one wouldn’t come into the house when I first got her. The one that wouldn’t continue a on a walk because there were kids playing basketball in the back yard of a house across the street from where we were. The one that ran outside in absolute terror the moment you looked at her, or stood up, or walked, or raised your hands, or spoke to loudly or threw a squeaky toy to the other dog. Who, at her first play dates, wouldn’t even play with the other dogs, and just stayed at the opposite end of the field as everyone else. The one who would circle the group of humans at 20 feet so she would not be within hitting distance.
So…what the hell?
Now granted we have been working quite diligently for the past 11 months on her seemingly overwhelming issues and she has made progress no one dreamed (hoped, not dreamed) she would ever make. I had people tell me she would never be a normal dog. That dogs this badly abused could not live a normal existence, would never acclimate, never trust people, never be just … a dog.
I say to that: Ppphhhhttttt.
Yesterday her behavior was just to a whole new level.
Barb said (gleefully, might I add) at the last play date one topic of discussion was the abrupt change in Breeze’s demeanor over the past 3 weeks while I've been gone. They decided Breeze has been working me; complete falsifying of data, she has me bamboozled and wrapped around her little toe, she’s milking it. Then, on a more contemplative note, relayed that they (Phyllis and Barb knew her a year ago when she was at the kennel and have seen the transformation that has happened) think this most recent improvement was because she was incredibly lonely since I’ve been gone so long and was at the play dates without me as her safe place.
Basically she had to get her affection, touch, and security from someone else. And she did.
Barb also thought Gregarious Breeze would revert back to Cautious Breeze once I returned and was amazed when she continued with her new found independence. Phyllis who did the transport of the dogs, is now calling Breeze, Bobble-head Breeze. Something Breeze does with just a limited few (me, Sheryl, her foster Mom who took her from the kennel originally and started this whole journey, and Dawn, who walked with us with her two greys most mornings) is to bobble her head back and forth almost like she is shaking her head ‘no’ when she comes trotting towards us and she’s really happy. The happier and more comfortable she is the bigger the sweep of the head bob. Apparently she has been quite happy and comfortable the past few trips to the play date.
So as I stood there catching flies, watching my girl in amazement, I realized that there was a huge hurdle crossed while I was not there to witness it and in fact the reason it was crossed was because I was not there to witness it. My girl…growing up.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Play Date
We (the girls and I) have been meeting with two different greyhound play date groups a couple of time a week. (Though both Willow and Dru have cuts on their front paws so to their dismay they have been grounded from the past few play dates.) During a recent visit, I was busy with the camera; well actually I’m always busy with the camera when there are dogs around. My friends haven’t finished a conversation with me since we’ve started meeting. “Oh, photo op, be right back”, tends to be the abrupt end to many a story. I do send out photos in an attempt to make up for that rudeness.
We have a few new dogs that have joined our weekend group as of late. My 3 girls had a grand time meeting the 4 new ‘it’ dogs for the first time. The subsequent running, playing and all around silliness enabled me to fill up almost one and a half 2 gig scan disks with photos. Heh.
Enjoy.
We have a few new dogs that have joined our weekend group as of late. My 3 girls had a grand time meeting the 4 new ‘it’ dogs for the first time. The subsequent running, playing and all around silliness enabled me to fill up almost one and a half 2 gig scan disks with photos. Heh.
Enjoy.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
The Bridge
I'm sure you are familiar with the old question “if one of your friends jumps off a bridge will you?”. Usually asked by a parent once a child has done something inconceivably stupid with one of their friends. At least that seemed to be the case when the question was posed to me. The implication being; not thinking for yourself will lead to an after school special being made about your spectacularly inept decisions all wrapped up with the Very Big Lesson to be learned by the end of the show.
While watching the dogs at their play date this past week, the image of my mother asking me this same question flashed through my mind while pondering the implications of the mud bath extravaganza. One dog took notice and the rest jumped with him. I thought of stopping the party before it got started, before the keg, pizza and wings were ordered, before even the phone calls were made and invitations sent out. I knew where it was going. But in the end, I was the enabler, in part because they were having such fun and part (selfishly) because I wanted the photos. Truth be told.
The beginning; so far it is just a speck of an idea; hmmm water + dirt = fun...
While watching the dogs at their play date this past week, the image of my mother asking me this same question flashed through my mind while pondering the implications of the mud bath extravaganza. One dog took notice and the rest jumped with him. I thought of stopping the party before it got started, before the keg, pizza and wings were ordered, before even the phone calls were made and invitations sent out. I knew where it was going. But in the end, I was the enabler, in part because they were having such fun and part (selfishly) because I wanted the photos. Truth be told.
The beginning; so far it is just a speck of an idea; hmmm water + dirt = fun...
Ike, the light brindle, starts the party...
Willow diving headlong off the bridge...
Dru jumping in after her...
Tandem jump...
Little respite...
Willow testing to see if she has reached the molten mantle yet...
KC enjoying the fruits of everyone else's labor...
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Soap, Suds and Wet Dog Smell
I spent a good portion of Sunday June 14th at the Arizona Greyhound Rescue (AGR) bi-annual fundraising dog wash – raising cash for the poochies, word has it almost $3,000 was raised. That’s a lot of dog washing. It was my job to capture the event on film (or disk as it were). My niece, who had spent the evening at my house for one of our movie nights, accompanied me. She was given her own camera and set loose on the dogs and owners. Though she brushed a cactus and ended spending most of the day picking cactus spines out of her shirt and skin (the tiny ones so that really sucked), was hot and bored after a few hours, still managed to captured a number of great images. Some of which I will post next time.
Since I was working I did not bring my 3 girls down to the event, though after the mud puddle rolling they did the day before, they could have used a wash. So anyway…I got to spend 4 hours hanging out with more dogs than I could count, it was heaven. There were mostly greyhounds, but a large number of other dogs were in the mix as well. It is weird to see so many dogs together and not hear any (or much) barking. So this post is here so I can put up a number of photos from the wash. That’s it. Not much else to say.
Since I was working I did not bring my 3 girls down to the event, though after the mud puddle rolling they did the day before, they could have used a wash. So anyway…I got to spend 4 hours hanging out with more dogs than I could count, it was heaven. There were mostly greyhounds, but a large number of other dogs were in the mix as well. It is weird to see so many dogs together and not hear any (or much) barking. So this post is here so I can put up a number of photos from the wash. That’s it. Not much else to say.
Friday, June 12, 2009
REALIZATION
My foster dog, Lulu (a.k.a. Dru), has been with me one week today. When I met her for the first time 3 weeks ago at the AGR kennel I was shooting photos of the dogs available for adoption/foster. I try with all that I have not to go to the kennel. It is just a dangerous place for me. (You remember the Atari game Pitfall? I’m the little guy working to get out of the jungle and the dogs and leashes are the snakes and tarpits trying to suck me into their world.) Me at the kennel is akin to letting my niece loose in the mall with a no limit gift card; she’s coming home with something.
I had tagged along with Phyllis, a friend with a much stronger constitution than myself. She volunteers at the kennel twice a month and only has one greyhound. I am, so far, 5 for 6. That’s right: 5 dogs in 6 visits. Now to be fair...3 of the dogs have gone on to their adoptive homes, 1 is Willow, my adoptive hound, (I went out the first time with the intent of finding a dog) and lastly, Dru, is my current foster. Those tallies don’t include Breeze, my other adopted dog. She was a special case and we are going to talk about her quite a bit in later posts. She’s one of the primary reasons I’ve started this blog.
Anyway, I told Phyllis I was not allowed to foster or adopt another dog and that she could not transport one home in her car for me. Dru, was the second dog I met. Playful, loving, fantastic personality, all apparent in the 3 minute walk we took around the turn-out area. I mentioned to Phyllis I wanted to take Dru home, to which she responded appropriately…’No. You may not foster or adopt and I will not transport a dog home in my car today’. So we went home dogless but not photoless (see below).
I then continued to think about Dru for the following 2 weeks and last week when I learned she was still down at the kennel I requested to foster her. She has fit into the household amazingly well, though she has been a quite reserved; fairly typical as she gets used to new surroundings, new rules, new schedules and the freedom to roam a house.
Those of you with greyhounds won’t find this behavior all too unusual as you are accustomed to short bursts of activity from your hounds. This activity, however, went on for about 30 minutes and it was after the hour trip to the dog park and walking path. I spent a good portion of the morning watching her and laughing with her as she started to realized her new found freedom as a retiree.
I had tagged along with Phyllis, a friend with a much stronger constitution than myself. She volunteers at the kennel twice a month and only has one greyhound. I am, so far, 5 for 6. That’s right: 5 dogs in 6 visits. Now to be fair...3 of the dogs have gone on to their adoptive homes, 1 is Willow, my adoptive hound, (I went out the first time with the intent of finding a dog) and lastly, Dru, is my current foster. Those tallies don’t include Breeze, my other adopted dog. She was a special case and we are going to talk about her quite a bit in later posts. She’s one of the primary reasons I’ve started this blog.
Anyway, I told Phyllis I was not allowed to foster or adopt another dog and that she could not transport one home in her car for me. Dru, was the second dog I met. Playful, loving, fantastic personality, all apparent in the 3 minute walk we took around the turn-out area. I mentioned to Phyllis I wanted to take Dru home, to which she responded appropriately…’No. You may not foster or adopt and I will not transport a dog home in my car today’. So we went home dogless but not photoless (see below).
I then continued to think about Dru for the following 2 weeks and last week when I learned she was still down at the kennel I requested to foster her. She has fit into the household amazingly well, though she has been a quite reserved; fairly typical as she gets used to new surroundings, new rules, new schedules and the freedom to roam a house.
Well this morning she burst out of her shell like the Alien out of the guy’s chest: unstoppable, looking for trouble, and all over the place. She led the other 2 dogs on a merry game of chase throughout the house and outside; creating a track beginning at the back bedroom door, proceeding outside around the perimeter of the yard, continuing in through the other back door, then traipsing through kitchen, dining, living, bedroom and outside again for full crazy dog sprints. She pulled most every toy out of the toy box and tossed them around, sliding on wood floors and pouncing on dog beds. She then found my shoes, socks, and anything eye level and below as her next victims; something she had yet to do.
Those of you with greyhounds won’t find this behavior all too unusual as you are accustomed to short bursts of activity from your hounds. This activity, however, went on for about 30 minutes and it was after the hour trip to the dog park and walking path. I spent a good portion of the morning watching her and laughing with her as she started to realized her new found freedom as a retiree.
Dru playing with her new squeaky toy
Note: I am no way affiliated with AGR (Arizona Greyhound Rescue) except as an occasional volunteer for events/fundraisers and as a photographer volunteer to do photos of the dogs.
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