Last night most of the country was suffering from the effects of a polar vortex. The daytime temperature in Philadelphia did not get above freezing. But, surprisingly enough, I was going swimming. That is, me and a few pups. Last night was the night we decided to check out a local pet hotel that happens to have a swimming pool for dogs. Our trip was part exposure to new environments, part good exercise and part dog happiness.
Since none of us had been to this pet hotel before, it was going to be a novel experience for both the dogs and the people who were going. So we loaded up a few cars with some dogs, some trainers and some foster parents. It sounded like a good plan – 6 dogs, 2 trainers, 1 vet student, 8 foster parents and 1 sherpa (me) carrying an armload of beach towels. We had a good 2 people per dog ratio.
The pool was bigger than some human hotel pools and heated, happily, to 75 degrees. Although the pool was covered, the dome was not heated. The steam rising off the warm water and hitting the cool air, combined with some dim lighting, gave the room a spooky feeling. I wondered how the dogs would react to what could look a bit like walking into a patch of dense fog.
To be easy on ourselves, we started with one of the older dogs, who was a seasoned swimmer – Jesse P. Jesse P + water = happier than a pig in mud. Jesse entered the water using the ramp exactly once. After that – it was all running dives, fling through the air, paws outstretched, doing big belly flops. He reminded me of a teenaged boy trying to make the biggest splash possible to soak the most number of bystanders. Jesse also had a keen sense of who was “on land” trying to stay dry and inevitably stood next to that person to do his doggie body-shake-to-remove-excess-water-from-fur.
Three of Zzisa’s lab pups were next. Several had not been swimming before. A couple needed a little tennis ball encouragement, but all were soon swimming happily across the pool. The star of the show among the pups was Pierce. This little girl was a let your ears fly, no holds barred swimming machine! She even went so far as to push her fellow little mates off the ramp if they were moving too slow for her. Not very lady-like but she was determined to jump into the pool as many times as her little legs would carry her. I think there’s a future for her with the Coast Guard or perhaps the Navy?
When Trainer Pat called the end to swim time, it was an all hands on deck effort to keep the dogs, once out, from jumping back into the pool. Note to self – dogs are slippery when wet. So about 14 wet beach towels later, we were all dried off. Happy and tired, the crew drove home with the car heaters blasting. Take that polar vortex.
I have two sisters and although we have quite divergent opinions about almost everything, one thing we do agree on – we love to have our hair brushed. I don’t think you even have to have long hair to appreciate the sensations of hair brushing. It is soothing and tingly at the same time, a very relaxing experience. I would be hard pressed to find another G-rated activity that makes you say, “Ahhh”. And so I assumed this view point would hold true for everyone, at least for those who have hair, especially true if you have a lot of hair and quite possibly so if you have a lot of fur. But, as I learned, this is not the case.
Enter Quest. Quest is an exceptional, 11 month old German Shepherd. He is exceptional in every way… down to his fur. It’s beautiful and there is a lot of it. As it turned out, Quest, like a lot of teenaged boys, did not see the value in brushing one’s hair. Sometimes you can just tell by looking at a dog’s expression what they are thinking. And when brushing Quest, you could tell he was thinking, “Is this really necessary?”
With so much fur, regular hair brushings are inevitable. Over the summer, Quest learned to love the hair brush. First he was just treated for even looking at the brush. Then he was treated for touching the back of the brush with his nose. Next, a treat for letting the back of the brush touch his shoulder. Step by step, inch by inch, tuft by tuft. Slowly he was learning to like the brush. Over a couple of days this process was repeated until he worked up to a full brushing.
It was amazing to me to watch the trainers shape his behavior, from being tolerant and to outright enjoyment, from “Nah” to “Ahhh”.
Photo of Lorenzo Ramirez, WDCPostdoctoral Fellow, with Dargo, also learning to say “Ahhh”.]]>
Bretagne – Diabetes Alert
Morgan – Narcotics Detection
Thunder – Urban Search & Rescue)
Zzisa – Explosives Detection
CBS 3 Philly was on hand for the celebration.]]>
If you are a parent, you know how difficult it is to find a good babysitter. Make that, find ANY babysitter. For some reason, there never seems to be an available teenager, responsible or otherwise, when you need one.
Once, when my son was about two, we placed an ad for a sitter in the local church bulletin. A seemingly responsible 17 year old boy answered the ad and we decided to give him a try. We came home to find half of the glass halogen light fixture, which hung over our kitchen table, broken and on the floor; shards of glass strewn about and a dent in the kitchen wall. The babysitter was outside, with my son, talking to his girlfriend on his cell phone.
When asked about why half of our light was on the floor, where my two-year toddler could easily get to it, the sitter was unapologetic. “Oh yeah! He wanted to play with the light so I let him hit it. He was really entertained by it.” Needless to say, that was the end of that sitter. Through the next few years we patched together a network of friends until we found a neighborhood babysitting co-op.
My experience as a parent finding a babysitter has given me a great appreciation for the work done at the Center by Lindsey Hagan. Lindsey’s job is to find back up fosters (i.e. pet sitters) for our regular foster families when they go places and can’t take our dogs with them. Lindsey has gotten to know everyone’s family and everyone’s dog and all of the particular needs of each. No small feat with over twenty dogs. “This dog doesn’t like cats. This dog needs a big yard to run.” She treats each of our dogs like they are her own children for whom she needs a babysitter. She has recruited, interviewed and approved a small army of back up fosters, knowing each of their personalities and home situations and who to match up with who. Lindsey has been the person to arrange … the perfect sit.
Unfortunately today, we have to wave good-bye to Lindsey. She is moving out of the area and onto the next phase of her life. We wish you the best of luck, Lindsey. More importantly, we wish you a wealth of good pet sitters and babysitters if ever you should need them.]]>
Join Dr. Otto and other speakers including John Grogan, author of “Marley and Me”, as they explore the many aspects and benefits of the human-animal bond.
Dr. Otto’s talk, “Saving Lives: How Dogs and Humans Work Together to Save Each Other” will start at 2:15p.
Click HERE to download informational flyer.]]>
If left to his own devices, my teenage son would spend hours in front of his computer, playing Minecraft or some other online game. Last Saturday was a beautiful day, the perfect day for a mother-son outing. No amount of cajoling will coax him outside, I know that much by now. There is only one surefire thing that can lure him away from the siren call of the computer – sushi.
So, with the promise of a sushi lunch, my son exited the house and we set off for the short walk to our neighborhood Japanese restaurant. He was in a fairly good mood, visions of salmon rolls dancing in his head. We walked for several minutes in peaceful silence and then my mistake – I dared to engage him in conversation. The mother asks a question, the son mumbles an answer. “What did you say?” I asked him, “I couldn’t hear you.”
“Mom! That’s it. I’m going home” and he turned around to stomp off in the direction of home. My hope for a happy lunch with my son now faded with each step. I was racking my brain for a response that would not make the situation worse… we were one short block from the restaurant, how could he go now?
In a fit of desperation, I had a small flash of inspiration – I would try one of the techniques that the trainers use when the dogs misbehave. When a dog jumps up on a trainer at the Center, the trainers turn their back on the dog, standing still as wooden soldiers and refuse to make eye contact or acknowledge the jumping dog. And then they wait it out. “Any type of engagement”, I remember Trainer Danielle saying, “can reinforce the bad behavior.”
And so, as my son stomped off, yelling, “I’m going home now”, I turned away from him, avoiding eye contact, arms at my side and just stood there, not engaging him in any way. I…just…stood…there…and…waited. 5 seconds, 10 seconds, 15 seconds and then, (miraculously) he reappeared at my side! “I think I’m ready for some sushi”, I said and he nodded, as if nothing had happened. (I resisted the urge to pat his head and tell him he was a good boy.) We continued the rest of the way to the restaurant.
And that is how I used the dog training I learned at the Center on my teenage son. And how we both had a happy sushi lunch, thanks to Danielle.
Photo of volunteer Scott employing “turn away” technique.]]>
Mondays, 7:30-8:30p, starts Oct. 27th
$150/6 week session
Click HERE to learn more and register.
Wednesdays, 7:30-8:30p, starts Oct. 29th
$100/4 week session
Click HERE to learn more and register.
Thursdays, 7:30-8:30p, starts Oct. 30th
$160/6 week session
Click HERE to learn more and register.
It is 7pm and all the dogs have gone home. The boisterous daytime sounds have been replaced by the gentle hum of the vacuum cleaner. Each evening the entire Center is vacuumed, errant tuffs of dog hair quietly disappear into our trusty Miele.
As I vacuum, the gentle hum causes my mind to drift back to thoughts of college.
We could have used a good vacuum cleaner sophomore year. I was living in a small row house in West Philly that served as our sorority house. Sophomore year, one of my sorority sisters brought her dog to school, her father saying that the dog was lost without her.
The dog in question was a Norwegian Elkhound named Click. Click was the best trained dog I had ever encountered at that point in my life. We all swore that the dog was really a person inside a dog suit and as such, she was given an honorary membership to our sorority and henceforth known as “Sister Click.”
We loved Sister Click and were amazed at her endless talents and array of tricks. Sister Click could flip dog biscuits off her nose and catch them in mid air. She was the queen of the command “stay”… holding a stay for 10 minutes, even if my friend hid around the corner; sitting quietly until my friend reappeared. We came to find out that these talents were the result of hours of training on my friend’s part as she spent almost every afternoon working with Click.
As amazed as we were by Sister Click’s tricks, we were equally amazed by her constant shedding. Elkhounds shed like crazy in the Philadelphia heat and we did not have a vacuum cleaner. So my friend cleaned up the inevitable dog hair off her carpet with a sneaker. This became an activity known as “sneakering the floor.” Even with two people using two sneakers each, this operation could take 30 minutes. We all pitched in to sneaker the carpets because we loved Sister Click and we didn’t want anyone to complain about the fur. Happily, Click lived with us the entire year.
With or without a vacuum cleaner, good dog training can strengthen the bond between dog and owner. Many dogs welcome the challenge of training, finding it mentally stimulating. The Working Dog Center offers dog training classes for both puppies and adult dogs, throughout the year. The next series of classes begin Oct. 27th. Carpet sneakers are not included.
Photo of volunteer Vaugh
New Classes Start October 27th
It’s not my husband’s fault he’s a cat lover. His mother was a breeder of champion Burmese cats when he was a kid. He has been known to honk at “Cats Rule, Dogs Drool” bumper stickers. But, since opposites attract, my husband ended up marrying a dog lover. My many pleadings for a dog have been met with a scrunched up face and a shake of the head. “No Dogs”. (So now I am getting my dog fix by volunteering at the Working Dog Center.) Our pet philosophies collided the Friday before Labor Day. All the dogs at the Center live with foster families and one of the foster families was going out of town. They could not take the dog with them and needed someone to watch their dog for 2 days. “Could you take one of the dogs for the weekend?” a staff member asked me. And, it wasn’t just any dog… it was one of Zzisa’s new puppies. A Puppy!!! My little dog-loving heart jumped with glee. I immediately called my husband and braced myself for a heavy negotiation session. I was surprised when he agreed to have a four-legged house guest.
So, Friday afternoon I arrived home with a crate, expandable gate, a suitcase full of dog toys and one very cute Labrador retriever puppy named Pierce. Pierce is as sweet as can be and very well-behaved but being only two months old, requires certain attention. I forgot how much work a puppy can be. Besides the frequent potty walks, Pierce needed someone to pay attention to her and talk to her. Leaving the room was met with howling. Lest our neighbors think I was torturing her, I set up puppy camp in the kitchen. One of us was with her all day, except for nap time. Even my cat-loving husband was won over by the sweet puppy and laid down on the floor with her, “so she’d know it was nap time”.
The weekend went by quicker than I’d like and on Sunday, I returned Pierce to her foster mom. The whole experience made me realize how dedicated the foster families are to our dogs. It is a labor of love. The fosters share their home and hearts with our dogs, knowing that one day, the dogs will graduate and move onto their permanent home. Until that time, those puppies are making dog lovers out of cat people one husband at a time.
Photo of Pierce with foster mom Allison
From the time my son was strong enough to stand, he periodically did something that my sister-in-law dubbed “the happy dance”. Pure joy radiated from his little round face and spread through the rest of his body. He would hoist himself up, holding onto the nearest piece of furniture, get up on his tip toes and step excited back and forth, wagging his rear end and shriek with glee. The happy dance could be brought on by just about any joyous occasion such as me coming home from work, seeing a chocolate chip cookie or playing peek a boo with his Elmo doll. The simple joys of life.
Now that my son is a teenager, he rarely does the happy dance. I was bit sad to think the happy dance was a thing of the past. However, just the other day, I was volunteering at the Working Dog Center and I saw the happy dance! In fact it took a moment to register that I had seen it many times at the center. Many of the dogs do the canine version of the happy dance. Like my son, the happy dance can be brought on by the sight of a favorite trainer, the whiff of a hot dog or the sight of a favorite toy. I have to whisper when I say this, but the sight of a tennis ball (shhh) can send a dignified, highly trained dog into fits of dancing glee.
One has to be particularly vigilant when walking dogs near the training yard or the search building because the sight of either of those can also send the dogs into the happy dance… a wiggling, swaying, prancing, bum wagging “I’ll do anything for a tennis ball” happy dance. Trainers routinely hide tennis balls in only their right pants pocket so the ball is not in the line of sight for the dog (who is trained to always walk on the left side of the handler). There is something profoundly touching about seeing the joy of a dog, playing with his tennis ball after a training session. And even more touching is how the dog’s joy brings a smile to the face of the trainer. Makes me want to do the happy dance.
Photo by Tracy Darling
Patterson, one of Zzisa’s puppies, does the happy dance in anticipation of getting to work.