Hide and Seek in the Sun

Here in the Northeast, the sun has been hiding behind clouds and rain for weeks now. In honor of the one sunny day in weeks (this past Saturday), and to help us remember that warm summer feeling, here’s DJ covered in a towel—my own version of Dog Hide and Seek. While initially executed for my amusement (ie, How to make a large-ish dog disappear? Cover him in a beach towel! Where’d he go?!)  but DJ joined right in, seemingly delighted when I lifted the towel up to reveal him, I think because he sensed it was a game, and my intention was fun. 

Researchers have found that dolphins studied off the coast of Honduras, “seem to deliberately make their games more difficult, possibly in order to learn from them”; and also noted that adult dolphins modulated their game when playing with young dophins, so younger animals could fully participate and progressively improve. Dolphins in captivity have been observed to have created 317 different forms of play.  Researchers surmise that “play facilitates the development and maintenance of flexible problem solving skills. If this is true, play may have evolved to enhance the ability to adapt to novel situations.” And that, “Although dolphins of all ages participated in games, most of the newly invented ones came from the youngsters themselves, the group wrote, providing evidence for a contribution of games to dolphin “culture.””

(For more, check out: www.world-science.net/exclusives/051107_dolphinfrm.htm. If you want to see it for yourself but can’t get out to Discovery Cove to swim with dolphins before lunch (www.discoverycove.com), check out: www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMCf7SNUb-Q.

In a human-centered world, it’s easy to assume that because we invented the Mac, tetherball, and proms, that the ascendency of our species is guaranteed and we have the 411 on how to play. But dog (and cat) lovers everywhere already know better: what we know and sense is just the tip of the animal iceberg. Creatures across the world have fundamental survival needs, and one of them is to play, discover, explore in order to understand, grow, and make a day feel good. Ask your dog. Mine agrees and would roll his eyes at our obvious science and wonder why I’m not playing tug of war instead.

Take Your Dog to Work Day

Today DJ has gone to work. Not the traditional carting work which he was bred to do, but instead today he is interning at an ad agency in Boston's South End. This concept is actually rooted in the US feminist movement and was launched in 1993 when MS Magazine created "Bring Your Daughter to Work Day",  designed to expose girls and young women to various career paths and encourage professional aspirations. In 2003, the gender divide was relieved and now multiple organizations promote "Bring Your Son or Daughter to Work Day" in order to expand young people's interests and potential paths.

Um, "Bring your Dog to Work Day" has no such application. While allegedly DJ has filed a few expense reports and created a couple spreadsheets so far today, probably the value of this event is more in the contact between animal and humans, and the simple reminder to do what you love, love what you do, and keep it all in perspective.

For more information and inspiration, check out:

www.takeyourdog.com/

and

www.daughtersandsonstowork.org

When Living By the Seashore...

We have a friend* who just recently moved from the city to the small seaside town where we live. Having made a similar move, from New York city to this small town, I can relate. At first it’s too quiet. Too clean. Everyone is in shape, or at least seems to exercise regularly—and probably takes a daily multivitamin too. Families seem neatly shaped, stacked in place with perfect parents, offspring, and every possible possession, from stroller to Subaru, necessary to propell that family forward for the next twenty years till the children go to college. You feel funny, like you might suddenly and loudly curse in Starbucks for no reason, or that your library books (if you roll that way!) will be monitered, or that the music coming out of your apartment windows will reveal you to be what you really are: a city person misplaced in a small, beautiful, town.

But I give our friend props. Within a month, he’s worked on a friend’s sailboat getting it prepped to go in the water, he’s discovered and grilled a new kind of marinated meat from the local grocery store, and he bought his dog Lucy this collar. 

It took me living here about as long as I’d lived in Manhattan in order to loosen the grip on metropolis pace—and that’s with a few years in Brooklyn as a transition before moving here. I embraced the suburban supermarket instead of the deli at the corner, but it’s taken some time to get into the pace of “town”. Once here, the city still appeals. But there’s no need to wear it. Where we are is alright by me. 

*okay, you guessed it, the friend is "Food Guy", whose cuddly yet stylin' Boxer Lucy is staying with us this week.

Personal Trainer

If you need a personal trainer of the calorie-burning, gym-sort for your dog, get a Boxer. And when I write Boxer, I mean a dog like Lucy. She’s our house guest this week, while her owner “Food Guy” is in Europe.

Our two Bernese Mountain dogs generally enjoy a life of leisure with one or two moderate walks a day. When Lucy is here, it is like watching a drill sargent in action: she has DJ up and boxes him into submission and exhaustion within minutes. After that she trots, nay skips, over to one of two open wooden boxes where we keep dog toys and selects a toy as if she were a personal trainer picking out weights or medicine balls to shred her client’s muscles with. She brings the selected toy to panting DJ and I swear I can almost hear her grunt, “C’mon, let’s see what you got!”

At the end of the day, our dogs sleep soundly, slobberingly, and gratefully it seems. Lexa, the senior dog, perhaps grateful for a distracted and depleted puppy in training. And Lucy? Dreaming of the next round.

Pranic Puppy

I’m no yoga expert—I’m a yoga grazer. I like going to all kinds of classes and learning from all kinds of teachers. One thing is clear and consistent however, and that’s the feeling of prana. The energy or chi that spreads through my blood as I move through poses, and lingers afterwards.

When I wake up and head to brush my teeth in the morning, both dogs usually sleepily roll on their backs, lifting their giant gracious paws in the air, offering furry bellies for rubbing. After I sat in yoga “awakening my pranic energy” by patting my own arms and legs, I realize dogs ask for and receive this awakening naturally, instinctively, by offering themselves up, paws in the air.

Letting Go

My father used to write for Parents Magazine, back in the 1970s. One article he wrote was about watching my older sister jump off the high dive, from a float in the harbor. He was worried about her: how deep was the water? What if she landed funny? What if she got scared up there? But he encouraged her, shouting up to her to take the leap! Of course the ocean water was deep enough—cold, but deep—and my sister was an avid swimmer so she landed and swam back to the float just fine.

My kittens are now 2 years old, and this year at their annual check up I decided to get them the feline leukemia shot, which will protect them if they become indoor/outdoor kitties. I sense that they are bored inside. Both are a bit overweight—plump, glossy, and slow moving. But when they watch the window, see an insect, or hear a bird, they come alive: alert and engaged. So I decided it is finally time to give the big outdoors a try. I realize I need to treat this transition with care; make sure they know their surroundings, not force them, observe them at first. And I realize it’s a hard decision that will potentially open their world up dramatically, but also provide new threats and dangers.

Seeing Johnny take his first (supervised!) sniff around the deck today confirmed the decision. He did not want to go back inside. He batted then bit a dried leaf, tasted the thyme from the herb plantings, listened to the birds, stretched in the sun...in fact, he actually made a small growling noise when I lifted him to take him back inside. I think he’s ready, I just wonder if I am.

Why our cat thinks he owns our dog

When DJ was a puppy we crated him. DJ is the first dog I’ve had from puppyhood on, so crating seemed very much like “caging” or “locking up”. The reality is however, as most dog experts will tell you, their crate really can become more like their room: a place for quiet time and an opportunity to rest and feel comforted.

DJ’s crate was placed in the bedroom, just below the windows which look out onto the street: an ideal location for a cat to make his habitual perch. And Charlie did. By day, he would watch the neighborhood’s comings and goings; by night, while DJ shifted and settled, Charlie would watch him intently and occasionally dangle a paw at the 20-lb, 30-lb, then 40- and 50-lb Berner puppy. DJ seemed unconcerned and was probably absorbing so much about the world, that a cat hovering above him nightly was the least of his concerns.

It seems however, that Charlie was perhaps doing something I didn’t realize. As I read NOW about how to establish and maintain alpha position in relation to a dog, I think back to Charlie's earliest training of the dog, and I consider his relationship to 138-lb DJ now. Charlie always sits at a level above DJ and when DJ comes too close without permission he gets a swat from the cat paw. This inspires the dog to get low and stay humble. Charlie occasionally leans in to DJ’s massive head and takes a nibble on his forehead—but the affection is given only when the cat chooses. Just to be sure he understands fully who’s in charge, when DJ turns away to lay down, Charlie drags his claws through the dog’s black coat, keeping a souvenir of his pet for himself.

We all speak dog

Some may find it a curious fact that our dog speaks Chinese. We discovered this one day when one of us repeated a phrase we heard on tv: "shi shi". We used DJ's nickname Furse (pron. 'Fur-Sah'-- see blog #1), and said, "hey Furse, shi shi!" He responded just as he had to the phrase when it came from the tv speakers: with a cocked head and curious penetrating gaze. As if to say, "What was that? Go out? Now?"

We laughed and tried it again. My knowledge of Chinese is limited one lesson I had in the 9th grade when I learned to say "Ni How Mah? (How are you?) Heahn-How! (I'm fine!)" and also the fact that tones change the meaning of the word—even one syllable can mean something completely different when said with a different lilt. 

So, "Furse, shi shi!" became "Shi shiii? Furse?"  and "Furse! shi SHI!" Every time he responds, looking at us with an "I'm on it!" or "You got it!" or "Really?" look on his face.

Hence we gradually became convinced that if we speak fake-Chinese to him, surely he must understand the real thing. After all, it's said that dogs can comfortably comprehend up to 200 commands. If this is true, we're on our way. Any suggestions for the next phrase in Mandarin?

post script: If this inspires you to write a children's book with this idea, don't even bother—get a snack and watch the NASCAR Pocono 500 instead. One of the world's most adorable books ever has already been written on the topic . I discovered it a couple months after we realized DJ speaks Chinese. Where? in the gift shop of Portland, Oregon's Chinese garden of course. What a find! Check it out for yourself: 

www.powells.com/cgi-bin/biblio?inkey=2-9781840595048-1

And while you're virtually visiting Portland, check out the gardens!

www.portlandchinesegarden.org

Introducing the Fursons

We are a family of 6: my fiance, our two Bernese Mountain dogs, and two cats. For some time we have called our home Animal Kingdom, but with time comes new names.

The most senior member of Animal Kingdom is Lexa. She is a beloved 8.9 year old Berner in amazing shape. While she lounges gracefully most of the day, given the opportunity she'll leap up and down at the prospect of a good walk. Lexa's full name is Newcastle's Lexa Pip!

Our other dog (a year and half old, 138 pound Berner) has a variety of names: DJ Puppy is his given name. The name didn't intend to stand for anything other than "disc jockey"-- in the weeks leading up to getting him, we pictured a Berner puppy with giant headphones (after a late night seeing the amazing DJ Bassnectar!). However, like Lexa, he has a more formal name which includes the breeder-- and that is: DeGrasso's Joyful Mystery.

After bringing 17 pound ball of puff DJ Puppy on a whirlwind tour to meet nieces, nephews, and granddogparents at Christmas, one week after we got him, a 3-year old nephew intending to say "He's so furry!" instead said "He's so furzy!" Furzee stuck, and soon became the faux-Icelandic "Furse" (pronounced Fur-sah).

The other morning Robert got up before me and let the dogs out. He came back to the bedroom and announced "The Fursans have been out, but have not yet had breakfast!"

Well, meet the Fursons. Within a week, this agile proper noun has comfortably fit our family like a warm furry coat...big enough to include everyone, even the two cats: Charlie and Johnny Perez.

PHOTOS:
1. Lexa and DJ now
2. Lexa and DJ 2007
3. Charlie
4. Johnny Perez