Showing posts with label greyhounds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label greyhounds. Show all posts
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Friday, February 24, 2012
PHOTO FOR THE DAY
Dillon deliberately plans his photo bombs. Willow obviously approves. In fact, I believe she was egging him on.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
TEH BREEZE SAGA PART 5 - BABY STEPS
If you haven’t read the other The Breeze Saga segments, 1, 2, 3, and 4, I would recommend doing so first. This one will make more sense if you do.
The morning after our marathon reading session, Breeze came over when I praised Willow for getting dressed to go on our walk, and allowed me to put on not only the martingale but the harness as well without too much of a fuss. It was much easier to work her down the driveway on the return trip with the halter on.
Pause. Gentle tug sideways. Pause. Tug. No filling in of drag marks needed. Sweet!
It was off to work for the day, but not before she came within petting distance when I was exuberantly saying goodbye to Willow. I was quite please with the significant progress in only 4 days.
Over the next week there was continued slow, but steady, progress. I noticed the time she spent in the kennel was less and less. During the day, she would claim the dog bed furthest in the house from me and remain indoors for a few hours at a time before retreating outside.
Towards the end of the first week she actually slept in the bedroom for part of the night. For the first few days she wouldn’t come in the bedroom when I was in the house. My guess is because there was only one entrance and exit and it was down a long hallway. It was far too easy to be trapped.
I would head to bed at night and Willow would follow, leaving Breeze down at the other end of the house. One night she whined and whined to let us know she was not happy about the sleeping arrangements. I could hear her pacing from the family room to the hall and back, nails clicking on tile, coming closer and closer with each pass. I lay frozen in bed, not even daring to yawn. It took well over an hour for the nails clicking on tile to stop when she entered the bedroom and her steps were muffled by the carpet. I heard her settle in to the dog bed I had put adjacent to the door for her before I nodded off. She wasn’t there when I looked the next morning, but it was a good start. It became the routine over the following week. She would sleep in the bedroom at night, following us in after the light went out and scamper out when she heard me rustle awake. I’ll take it.
Since I worked from home for much of the time, I was able to focus on figuring out what was the next most pressing issue to work on. It was pretty clear. She ran every time I moved. The scuttling kind of run – tail tucked, ears back, head low, back end hunched and seeming to out-run the front end. If I shifted in my chair. She ran outside. Turn a page to finish typing. Outside. Lean over to get a paper off the printer. Already outside, since the noise of the printer had freaked her out.
We had an uneasy truce, she would come in the house and lay down on a bed, but always in the family room and always watching me, never relaxed and only if I was in the office and not moving around. That allowed for 2 couches and a table between us.
Time to break the truce.
I started by shifting in my chair. She would run. I would wait until she came back inside to see where I had moved to. When she realized I hadn’t gotten up, she would settle back into her bed. I would give her some time and shift again. Over the course of a day, we progressed nicely. I would shift and she would run only to the door, but not outside. Shift. Halfway to the door. Then she would stand but not move off the bed. Finally, she would lift a head, but not get up. Woot! Progress. I felt as though I had climbed Mt Everest, graduated from college, and figured out world peace all at once. Such accomplishment.
So it was on to the next step. I stood up. That was it. Just out of the chair then sat back down.
Terror! Panic! You would think she was being chased by a long legged clown that had just popped out from under the bed. (Thank you Poltergeist for my unreasonable dislike of clowns.)
When I could finally stand without her getting up, I added a few steps into the equation. The first ones in the opposite direction from her. Never overtly looking at her before, during or after. It had to be all about her without it being about her. When I could take a couple of steps without her getting up, I started taking a couple of steps in her direction. Once that worked, it was into the kitchen and back. Always keeping the couch or wall between us. She eventually got to the point where she wouldn’t lift her head, but would follow my every movement with her eyes.
So it was time to really push her comfort zone. I walked from the kitchen through the dining room to the laundry, which was right next to her cave. This crossed her escape path. She solved that quite nicely by circling behind me around the dividing wall and heading outside.
Over and over we did this with breaks between to let her relax. This whole process took about 3 days, but we eventually conquered one of the major fears. She was OK with me walking around the house as long as I didn’t walk directly towards her while making eye contact. Sweet! We can work on the eye contact and approaching next.
She also started playing with Willow. She was far more comfortable with Willow than with me. I would be out of sight in the den and the two of them would do laps around the house and into the back yard. When they would run outside, I would sneak over to peek out the kitchen window to see how Breeze was doing. I almost passed out the day when I heard the squeaky toy, looked out to the two playing in the back yard and realized it was Breeze squeaking it and not Willow. I was so proud of Willow sharing her knowledge and Breeze being secure enough to play.
My favorite memory of the first few weeks was when Breeze finally felt comfortable enough to explore the bedroom during the day even though I was standing in the kitchen, the gateway to the scary one way hallway of death. She and Willow went racing down the hall. I could hear significant rustling, then quick nail clicks on the tile floor as they made the return trip. Breeze was in the lead. She had ‘killed’ the fuzzy slipper in the closet, the kind with the fluffy sheep skin inside. She pranced around with it overhead, held high like the Olympic torch, so proud of her successful hunt. I didn’t want to make any sudden moves or discipline her when she was finally playing, so I figured I would have to sacrifice the slipper for the cause. It was well worth it. To finally see her being joyful and carefree was well worth cold toes.
Sneaking pictures of the girls playing.
*****************
The morning after our marathon reading session, Breeze came over when I praised Willow for getting dressed to go on our walk, and allowed me to put on not only the martingale but the harness as well without too much of a fuss. It was much easier to work her down the driveway on the return trip with the halter on.
Pause. Gentle tug sideways. Pause. Tug. No filling in of drag marks needed. Sweet!
It was off to work for the day, but not before she came within petting distance when I was exuberantly saying goodbye to Willow. I was quite please with the significant progress in only 4 days.
Over the next week there was continued slow, but steady, progress. I noticed the time she spent in the kennel was less and less. During the day, she would claim the dog bed furthest in the house from me and remain indoors for a few hours at a time before retreating outside.
Towards the end of the first week she actually slept in the bedroom for part of the night. For the first few days she wouldn’t come in the bedroom when I was in the house. My guess is because there was only one entrance and exit and it was down a long hallway. It was far too easy to be trapped.
I would head to bed at night and Willow would follow, leaving Breeze down at the other end of the house. One night she whined and whined to let us know she was not happy about the sleeping arrangements. I could hear her pacing from the family room to the hall and back, nails clicking on tile, coming closer and closer with each pass. I lay frozen in bed, not even daring to yawn. It took well over an hour for the nails clicking on tile to stop when she entered the bedroom and her steps were muffled by the carpet. I heard her settle in to the dog bed I had put adjacent to the door for her before I nodded off. She wasn’t there when I looked the next morning, but it was a good start. It became the routine over the following week. She would sleep in the bedroom at night, following us in after the light went out and scamper out when she heard me rustle awake. I’ll take it.
Since I worked from home for much of the time, I was able to focus on figuring out what was the next most pressing issue to work on. It was pretty clear. She ran every time I moved. The scuttling kind of run – tail tucked, ears back, head low, back end hunched and seeming to out-run the front end. If I shifted in my chair. She ran outside. Turn a page to finish typing. Outside. Lean over to get a paper off the printer. Already outside, since the noise of the printer had freaked her out.
We had an uneasy truce, she would come in the house and lay down on a bed, but always in the family room and always watching me, never relaxed and only if I was in the office and not moving around. That allowed for 2 couches and a table between us.
Time to break the truce.
I started by shifting in my chair. She would run. I would wait until she came back inside to see where I had moved to. When she realized I hadn’t gotten up, she would settle back into her bed. I would give her some time and shift again. Over the course of a day, we progressed nicely. I would shift and she would run only to the door, but not outside. Shift. Halfway to the door. Then she would stand but not move off the bed. Finally, she would lift a head, but not get up. Woot! Progress. I felt as though I had climbed Mt Everest, graduated from college, and figured out world peace all at once. Such accomplishment.
So it was on to the next step. I stood up. That was it. Just out of the chair then sat back down.
Terror! Panic! You would think she was being chased by a long legged clown that had just popped out from under the bed. (Thank you Poltergeist for my unreasonable dislike of clowns.)
When I could finally stand without her getting up, I added a few steps into the equation. The first ones in the opposite direction from her. Never overtly looking at her before, during or after. It had to be all about her without it being about her. When I could take a couple of steps without her getting up, I started taking a couple of steps in her direction. Once that worked, it was into the kitchen and back. Always keeping the couch or wall between us. She eventually got to the point where she wouldn’t lift her head, but would follow my every movement with her eyes.
So it was time to really push her comfort zone. I walked from the kitchen through the dining room to the laundry, which was right next to her cave. This crossed her escape path. She solved that quite nicely by circling behind me around the dividing wall and heading outside.
Over and over we did this with breaks between to let her relax. This whole process took about 3 days, but we eventually conquered one of the major fears. She was OK with me walking around the house as long as I didn’t walk directly towards her while making eye contact. Sweet! We can work on the eye contact and approaching next.
She also started playing with Willow. She was far more comfortable with Willow than with me. I would be out of sight in the den and the two of them would do laps around the house and into the back yard. When they would run outside, I would sneak over to peek out the kitchen window to see how Breeze was doing. I almost passed out the day when I heard the squeaky toy, looked out to the two playing in the back yard and realized it was Breeze squeaking it and not Willow. I was so proud of Willow sharing her knowledge and Breeze being secure enough to play.
My favorite memory of the first few weeks was when Breeze finally felt comfortable enough to explore the bedroom during the day even though I was standing in the kitchen, the gateway to the scary one way hallway of death. She and Willow went racing down the hall. I could hear significant rustling, then quick nail clicks on the tile floor as they made the return trip. Breeze was in the lead. She had ‘killed’ the fuzzy slipper in the closet, the kind with the fluffy sheep skin inside. She pranced around with it overhead, held high like the Olympic torch, so proud of her successful hunt. I didn’t want to make any sudden moves or discipline her when she was finally playing, so I figured I would have to sacrifice the slipper for the cause. It was well worth it. To finally see her being joyful and carefree was well worth cold toes.
Sneaking pictures of the girls playing.Wednesday, November 10, 2010
PHOTO FOR THE DAY
It's such a rare treat when she pays attention to me. Looks like she's just as surprised as me to be doing it.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
PHOTO FOR THE DAY
I honestly have no idea how she managed to get her head into that position. Practicing for the newest remake of the Exorcist, I guess.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
THE EXPERIMENT
Panic. Pure undiluted panic. Straight from the bottle. What a way to start a morning at the dog park.
We had been there for 30 minutes or so, my girls running the fence with ‘the pack’. All was well with my heart rate until Jamie thoughtfully suggested that maybe it was time to bring one of her dogs into the area with my dogs. I was game, leerily might I add, but ready to try it.
I was on the side with their dogs, shooting photos and debated accompanying her over to greyhound land, but both Jamie and Deena felt all would be well. So Jamie took Brynda, forever more in my head nicknamed “the guinea pig”, and strolled right into the area with my girls. Who promptly went absolutely ballistic trying to say hi. Then they ratcheted it up a notch.
We had been there for 30 minutes or so, my girls running the fence with ‘the pack’. All was well with my heart rate until Jamie thoughtfully suggested that maybe it was time to bring one of her dogs into the area with my dogs. I was game, leerily might I add, but ready to try it.
I was on the side with their dogs, shooting photos and debated accompanying her over to greyhound land, but both Jamie and Deena felt all would be well. So Jamie took Brynda, forever more in my head nicknamed “the guinea pig”, and strolled right into the area with my girls. Who promptly went absolutely ballistic trying to say hi. Then they ratcheted it up a notch.
The guinea pig.
Did I mention the panic? That’s about when it really hit. Heart pounding, I decided it would be a teensy bit better if I was in the pen as an additional safeguard for Brynda and scootched on over there. I am rather proud I managed to do it without actually running so everyone didn’t see just how freaked out I was. You know, keeping up appearances. Though I do believe I broke a speed walking record.
By the time I got to the churning mass of dog flesh, claws and teeth, Willow and Dru were in the process of tag teaming Brynda, trying to roll her. It was like a bad martial art film where the fighters actually wait ‘til the other one is done before entering the fray. Breeze was behaving, only because she is still a little apprehensive around Jamie and wouldn’t get close.
I jumped in and tried to restore some order. “Relax, Suzanne, they are working it out.” Then I spent the next 5 minutes learning what I needed to do to get the girls to behave appropriately in that type of situation. This whole thing about remaining calm while your dogs behave horribly is damned near impossible. I was quite concerned one of the dogs was going to get hurt. And might I add, the whole time Jamie just calmly stood there, correcting gently but convincingly, being Brynda’s safe anchor point.
The thing of it is, my girls want to play and hang out, you know, party at the dog park, but are just clueless as to how and I don't know how to teach them. So that’s what we are learning and Brynda is the perfect dog to show them.
After a bit, the girls toned it down from ballistic to excited and tried playing appropriately. I only needed to ‘bite’ them with my claw-like hand every so often. Once Brynda was not harassed quite so much by Dru and Willow she was able to wander further off, so Breeze got to try this new playing thing. She was way better at it than Willow and Dru. My blood pressure started slowly returning to normal. And Jamie pronounced this experiment a success, with more work to be done in the future. Though, I still wasn’t able to fully relax until Brynda and Jamie were on their side of the fence. Whew.
I needed a nap when I got home.
Brynda and Micah playing. Role models for my girls.
Monday, May 17, 2010
PHOTO FOR THE DAY
Greyhounds are all legs. Well, and muscle. OK, and a deep chest. Pretty long nose, also. Little tiny head though.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
TEH BREEZE SAGA PART 2
(See Breeze Part 1 here)
I had planned on moving back to Phoenix (an event thankfully avoided by the width of a nostril hair) and had told the folks at AGR I would not be able to foster after my last foster dog found a permanent home.
Then I got the call. AGR had heard rumors that I hadn’t moved to Phoenix and were wondering if I would foster a special needs dog for a few days while she recovered from being spayed. I said yes and on a Wednesday in mid-December 2008 brought home a totally doped up dog, Wheezy. She was a challenge - wouldn’t eat anything so I couldn’t give her the pain meds which meant she didn’t feel well so wouldn’t eat anything. Snackies, cheese, peanut butter, chicken, steak. Nope, nope, nope. I finally tempted her with yogurt and peanut butter and snackies mixed together and, as a result, she got her meds. She started to feel better, started drinking when tempted with chicken broth and I stopped panicking that she was going to have to go back to the vet to be treated for dehydration. By Saturday she was behaving normally so she joined us at play date, though since she was still recovering from surgery, she stayed on the lead and we just walked around the enclosure.
Sheryl was there with Breeze and Opal and by the time Wheezy and I had finished our lap around the field she had decided she wanted to take Wheezy home with her. The only catch was that she was already at her 2 dog maximum. I suggested a trade, foster for foster. After Wheezy passed the husband acceptance test with all As we contacted AGR and did a foster swap. Not quite like the original Freaky Friday, I suppose one main difference was that it was on a Sunday and, you know, they weren’t related, though they were fosters. Anyway…Wheezy got her permanent home and a new name (Isabella aka Izzy) and Breeze got Willow and me.
Keep in mind, I had seen Breeze a couple of times a week over the past month and she knew Willow; and still the first days at my house were pretty rough. The first day I just left the back door open because she wouldn’t come inside. She just stood in the furthest corner of the yard, one leg up, tail tucked, turned in on herself, ready to run. I would occasionally catch her laying down in the grass for a moment between frantic pacing and scanning of the area each time she heard the slightest noise.
I had planned on moving back to Phoenix (an event thankfully avoided by the width of a nostril hair) and had told the folks at AGR I would not be able to foster after my last foster dog found a permanent home.
Then I got the call. AGR had heard rumors that I hadn’t moved to Phoenix and were wondering if I would foster a special needs dog for a few days while she recovered from being spayed. I said yes and on a Wednesday in mid-December 2008 brought home a totally doped up dog, Wheezy. She was a challenge - wouldn’t eat anything so I couldn’t give her the pain meds which meant she didn’t feel well so wouldn’t eat anything. Snackies, cheese, peanut butter, chicken, steak. Nope, nope, nope. I finally tempted her with yogurt and peanut butter and snackies mixed together and, as a result, she got her meds. She started to feel better, started drinking when tempted with chicken broth and I stopped panicking that she was going to have to go back to the vet to be treated for dehydration. By Saturday she was behaving normally so she joined us at play date, though since she was still recovering from surgery, she stayed on the lead and we just walked around the enclosure.
Sheryl was there with Breeze and Opal and by the time Wheezy and I had finished our lap around the field she had decided she wanted to take Wheezy home with her. The only catch was that she was already at her 2 dog maximum. I suggested a trade, foster for foster. After Wheezy passed the husband acceptance test with all As we contacted AGR and did a foster swap. Not quite like the original Freaky Friday, I suppose one main difference was that it was on a Sunday and, you know, they weren’t related, though they were fosters. Anyway…Wheezy got her permanent home and a new name (Isabella aka Izzy) and Breeze got Willow and me.
Keep in mind, I had seen Breeze a couple of times a week over the past month and she knew Willow; and still the first days at my house were pretty rough. The first day I just left the back door open because she wouldn’t come inside. She just stood in the furthest corner of the yard, one leg up, tail tucked, turned in on herself, ready to run. I would occasionally catch her laying down in the grass for a moment between frantic pacing and scanning of the area each time she heard the slightest noise.
I managed to catch her in the house the first night so I could close the door for the evening. When she was in the house, she divided her time between hiding in the crate in the family room and making sure there was something; wall, couch, table, anything, between her and I. I followed her lead and stayed as far from her as possible so she didn’t feel threatened. Well any more than she already was. Trying to read her body language, I spent a while figuring out what freaked her out. Specifically. I based it on when she stood up. How close I could walk towards her, which route I could take from one room to the other, how fast I could move, how high I could raise my hands. I learned not to trap her into a room where there wasn’t an escape for her. To not make eye contact. That I couldn't carry anything. Let me tell you, it was a well deserved night of sleep for both of us.
The next morning she looked at me in terror as I came down the hall, searching about frantically for a place to hide. Trying to help avoid a complete panic, I didn’t look as her directly, going with coy glances from under eyelashes to see where she was, managing to run into only one wall, before getting the back door opened. The minute I was clear she bolted for the outside, to her safe spot. Knowing I wouldn’t get her back inside and that she was used to a doggie door and non-scheduled potty breaks, I left the door propped open when I went to work.
When I got home that evening I was greeted with Willow, who I noticed was quite happy to have a roommate, and a glimpse of a brindle tail disappearing out the back door. I tried snacky treat bribes to get her inside. Nope, me by the door was too threatening. That’s been tried before, thank you very much, that way leads to hands on and that is just unacceptable. Just slide it on out here and back away slowly.
Fortunately, that night I learned if I made ‘good girl’ noises to Willow and hugged and petted her, Breeze was intrigued, cautiously peeking around corners to investigate what was going on. Willow was quite proud of all the good things she didn’t know she was doing. She could have been nominated for the greyhound Nobel Prize with all the good deeds accomplished. Cure for dog drooling, helping free other racing greyhounds in South America, feeding starving greyhounds in Africa, teaching racing peace and saving countless bunnies all over the world.
I surreptitiously watched Breeze trying to figure out why Willow would be remotely interested in going near a human. I also caught glimpses of her longing to be with the two of us, she wanted to be involved, there was just too much fear physically limiting what she could do, it was shutting her down.
With that new bit of insight, Willow continued to get accolades until Breeze came entirely into the house. It was like watching a squirrel take a nut you’ve left on the deck, one hesitant step at a time, pausing to check surroundings, retreating then coming forward again, to finally get it and run off to the safety of their tree. Well I wanted the tree to be inside that night, so by taking the long way around and keeping her on the other side of the divider I managed to get the door shut before she could retreat to her nest and we were able to retire for the night with all doors secured. All in all, a successful day in the new foster home.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
RED RUBBER BALL
We had a small group of only 6 at play date today. There were some pretty good sprints, but for the most part the dogs waded through the belly-high weeds (as mentioned before we had a really wet winter). It had all the makings of an African safari documentary - "the greyhounds, among the fastest of the land mammals, reaching speeds of 45 MPH in 3 strides, disappear in the undergrowth, stalking their prey, a defenseless and unsuspecting red squeaky ball." Molly, in particular, has an obsession with the red ball. We have the same ball in yellow and she just turns her considerable nose up at it.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
PLAY DATE
Though today’s play date took place in the former horse paddock, (Thanks Peggy for hosting) as always, the dogs had an extra treat. The difference this morning…rain the night before. May I just share with you how much the dogs enjoyed the puddles, mud and damp pile of horse manure.
There is a large pile of manure that is being used to make adobe blocks. Usually Willow just grazes, like a Vegas all you can eat buffet. Today, apparently since it was just the right consistency with the added rain, she chose to convert the breakfast feast to digging out the perfect throne as the other dogs looked on. She spent a few minutes getting the hole just perfect before circling 3 times then reclining to watch over her subjects. Just so it is noted, once the location was vacated, Charlie spent a few minutes renovating so he would fit, then enjoyed the view as well. See, it isn’t just my dogs. Hah.
Charlie's mud bath
Crazy dog laps by Charlie and Breeze.
Charlie taking the corner
And...finally, finally after 2 years I got the photo I have been trying to get. Multiple dogs in a full sprint, in open stride and most importantly, in focus. 4 count them, 4 dogs in that photo. I might actually have to photoshop this one to make a really great card. That would be Charlie, Breeze, Willow, and Molly. (And Phyllis hiding in the background). Tah dah. My job here is done.
There is a large pile of manure that is being used to make adobe blocks. Usually Willow just grazes, like a Vegas all you can eat buffet. Today, apparently since it was just the right consistency with the added rain, she chose to convert the breakfast feast to digging out the perfect throne as the other dogs looked on. She spent a few minutes getting the hole just perfect before circling 3 times then reclining to watch over her subjects. Just so it is noted, once the location was vacated, Charlie spent a few minutes renovating so he would fit, then enjoyed the view as well. See, it isn’t just my dogs. Hah.
Willow coyly sitting on (in?) her excavated throne
Charlie's mud bath
Crazy dog laps by Charlie and Breeze.
Charlie taking the cornerAnd...finally, finally after 2 years I got the photo I have been trying to get. Multiple dogs in a full sprint, in open stride and most importantly, in focus. 4 count them, 4 dogs in that photo. I might actually have to photoshop this one to make a really great card. That would be Charlie, Breeze, Willow, and Molly. (And Phyllis hiding in the background). Tah dah. My job here is done.Friday, January 15, 2010
PLAY DATE
Play date at Peggy’s. Lots of crazy dog running this time. We had a record number of hounds this morning - 16. And amazingly enough they all behaved themselves.
Breeze, Molly, Cleo, and Opal
This is what most of my photos look like. After 2 years, I'm still working on my timing.
My girl Breeze
Cleo - the photogenic
Willow
Dru 
Ike on the prowl
Feeding frenzy. Like sharks smelling blood. They actually tore off the glove and ate it in the initial attack to get the snackies.
The view.
Cleo
Breeze, Molly, Cleo, and Opal
This is what most of my photos look like. After 2 years, I'm still working on my timing.
My girl Breeze
Cleo - the photogenic
Willow
Dru 
Ike on the prowl
Feeding frenzy. Like sharks smelling blood. They actually tore off the glove and ate it in the initial attack to get the snackies.
The view.
Cleo Friday, January 8, 2010
PLAY DATE
Thursday, November 19, 2009
PLAY DATE
This post is really just about the photos. The dogs had a great time at play date. Enjoy. They did.
PS My guess is that some of these will be available as note cards in the very near future.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
FASTDOGS NOTE CARDS - post 3
Number 3.
Dru and Raj - That's one big dog.
Kathy - Resting? Not for long.
Opal - Lazy days ahead.
Willow on the run.
Sunny happy boy.
Squeaky and his ears.
Jovi - treats?
Jovi - you did say treats.
Spats - The reach.
Willow - The hug.
Ike, Willow and Dru - Double team
Charlie, Willow and Jovi - Mine
Breeze - Bounding for joy
Willow - Time for a break.
Dru and Raj - That's one big dog.
Kathy - Resting? Not for long.
Opal - Lazy days ahead.
Willow on the run.
Sunny happy boy.
Squeaky and his ears.
Jovi - treats?
Jovi - you did say treats.
Spats - The reach.
Willow - The hug.
Ike, Willow and Dru - Double team
Charlie, Willow and Jovi - Mine
Breeze - Bounding for joy
Willow - Time for a break.
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