Hubert Blog

Ranch Trip

2005-03-23T09:13:00.000-06:00

I think I forgot to mention our trip to the ranch. It was a little complicated this time as a result of my not having had my herbal medicine for over a week.

I had been complaining about how bad the pills taste, and George didn't believe me. I guess the whole discussion got kind of complicated and maybe even a little competitive. George said he could eat a whole bottle of the pills, and I guess I scoffed. So he did. We got them replaced only the day before going to the ranch, so I was still not up to snuff. And it was HOT.

Sometimes the water in the tank is warm, but this time it was cold. Beta buddy kept trying to get me to lie down in the mud--she kept saying that Chester swore by how good it felt on his arthritis. Granted, she's right--Chester did like that mud--but that was when it was WARM. Warm mud is okay, but cold mud is just icky feeling on the sore spots. And I really worry about getting stuck in it. George and Marquis love to get up to their elbows in it, and even roll around, but their legs don't sink in as much as mine do.

Anyway, we didn't walk as much as we usually do, and we didn't see any deer, pigs, or bunnies. George did find some cow poop in which to roll, so he was happy.

(Well, Marquis says he saw a bunny, but I'm skeptical.)

Talking Bark

2005-03-21T15:22:00.000-06:00

I've gotten some interesting mail from dogs out there who are puzzled when their buddies try to talk Bark. One of my correspondents mentioned his buddy saying something like, "MORPHOLOGY! cat quaff hassle cenobite?" The impulse is to try to understand this, and guess at what the buddy means--perhaps the buddy is asking if a cat cenobite has a hassle trying to quaff something? Or, on the other hand, one might guess that there are issues of mispronunciation--perhaps the buddy is trying to say something that sounds like that?

I think both those impulses, while understandable, are wrong. Buddies don't listen, so they have trouble learning new languages. I think that the correct response is to be very, very encouraging. Just bark back! That's what I do when my buddies try to talk Bark--I repeat a very simple sentence, "If you run, I'll chase you!" I go into play bow, and I hope they'll get it figured out.

No luck so far, but I'm not giving up hope.

Odd Buddy Behavior (like that's different...)

2005-03-07T08:24:00.000-06:00

I think I mentioned we had a buddy visiting, and she gave me a great back rub. She also slept in my bed, and that was a major pain. I had to sleep on the FLOOR!!!! Granted, my buddies put down a dog bed and blankets and covered my head, but, still and all, the FLOOR. I couldn't believe it.

They're also talking weird. I don't usually listen, but I was struck when they let George out of the bathroom--he says he was NOT drinking out of the toilet, but just checking it out, when he accidentally hit the door with his tail. The buddies were both gone, so he was stuck in there a few hours. Being more than a little stressed, he scratched up the door and ate some of the wall. So, the first thing alpha buddy says when he finds George is, "Oh, great, one more thing to fix before putting the house on the market." Huh?

No walk this morning--alpha buddy left super early, and beta buddy took puppy buddy to the busstop. I can't say as I was hugely dissapointed; it was rainy and icky this morning, and I'm not wild about the rain. So, lots of blogging today, and maybe some computer games. George modified some car chase game so that the goal is to run over squirrels--two tails up.

What to Eat

2005-03-03T15:20:00.000-06:00

Maggie is apparently confused by books. No, Maggie, don't eat books. They don't taste all that great, and some of them are pretty good to read. Just don't be fooled by the titles. Chester always complained about certain titles that, he thought, were false advertising, such as: Zen Flesh, Zen Bones; Leaves of Grass; Rule of the Bone; Bone People. While I will grant the principle that books often have misleading titles, I have to say that Zen Flesh, Zen Bones is actually pretty good. It isn't what you think it's about, but it is good.

Anyway, reading can be fun. Granted, sometimes you have to eat books, like when the buddies almost catch you reading. But, otherwise, just eat the doggie obedience books, or other things that might get you grief.

Meanwhile, another eating mystery. We've had another buddy visiting this week. I was a little freaked out, as she looks a lot like my acupuncturist, and I thought she was going to start poking me. Turned out okay, though, as she instead gave me several excellent back massages. Anyway, she bought a bunch of chocolate. I'm not a huge fan of chocolate (bad gas), but George is. So, George snuck into her room and ate all her chocolate. The buddies freak out, call the vet, AND GIVE MARQUIS THE STUFF THAT MAKES DOGS THROW UP.

Go figure.

Cats and Shoes

2005-02-28T07:24:00.000-06:00

In the "comments" for my previous post, Maggie makes an excellent point that I hadn't considered. Peeing on shoes is a waste of a good chew, and an infallible sign that my correspondents were cats (the handle "Mr. Kitty" was a pretty good clue, too).

I hadn't thought about it as I'm not a big chewer of shoes. Not that I disapprove or anything, mind you. In fact, it's really just lack of temptation. My buddies have shoes that just don't offer much. They're either mostly some unknown substance, or a hard kind of leather. Beta buddy once brought home a pair of tasty shoes--soft leather--and I did devour them. She hasn't done that since, though; don't know why not.

As to the nipping advice, that works great when the problem is that the buddy is doing something that actively injures you at that moment. If they're putting a ribbon in your hair, or pulling you in a bad way, or something. But, if it's that they've failed to do something, it's harder.

Here's what I mean. It's a question of connecting ideas.

See, buddies aren't capable of having a lot of ideas in their heads at one time. A dog can be thinking about dinner, and how a dog marked here a while ago, and there's a rabbit nearby, and a deer passed through here within a day. A buddy--nope. You've seen it, right? One idea at a time. If that.

If they've done something bad, then they have that idea (putting ribbon in hair). You nip, and they can now connect the two ideas (putting ribbon on dog=nip). Now, granted, I don't need to do that a lot because my buddies don't really do much that's painful, and I'm just too big for them to force me to do anything against my will. But, there is a problem with their not doing things. They forget to take us on walks or give us dinner or something. There is no idea in their heads with which to connect the punishment.

And that is why punishment doesn't really work.

When Good Buddies Do Bad Things

2005-02-24T08:07:00.000-06:00

I've ruffled a lot of fur with my insistence that punishing buddies isn't very productive. Today I'll just publish some of the hostile mail:

Productive? PRODUCTIVE? Who cares about "productive"? I reject your metaphysics of presence in favor of a performative deontology--productive or not, peeing on their shoes is fun.

Snowy

It's the isseu of principal, not consequences. Who cares if it owkrs to tach them something or not, their not really teachable after all. Its the priciple of hte thing. Theyhd did something wrong, they should be punsihed. If you dont punish them, then you set an example and then theyll be totully out of control. you have to show them whose boss.If you don't they'll just run all over you obiously your a complete wimp. Your just to weeny to stand up to your buddies.

Mr. Kitty

Don't think of it as punishment. Think of it as trying to teach them cause and effect. Cause: they behave badly; consequence: their shoes get peed on. I'm not claiming that buddies are especially bright, but I do think that sufficient repetition will work to get them to understand some very basic cause/effect relations.

Carole

I got a lot more along the same lines. While I won't reply to it right now, I will note that the "pee on the shoes" theme makes me suspect that these represent the views of my cat readers.

More on Talking

2005-02-21T12:38:00.000-06:00

Again, it's been crazy around here, and very little time alone for blogging. I can't describe last Saturday, as I'm not at all sure what was going on or why. We did not get the walk to Comealong Park, but a whole litter of puppy buddies came over. WE WERE KEPT IN THE BEDROOM. I'm not sure if that was good or bad. It might have been a ton of fun to play with them, but, it might have been stressful. The squealing was bad enough as it was. We did get to eat two pizza boxes, and lots and lots of crust. So, not all was lost. (We failed to snag any ice cream, despite much effort.)

Meanwhile, though, I got email from Jack. He says:

I've thought a whole bunch about that talking thing, and Bufford might not be wrong. When I was a puppy, I spent a couple of days listening to that talk. You're right about their not listening to each other. But, I think they do sometimes say stuff that is important information. Like sometimes one will tell another what will be for dinner, or when they will go for a walk. Granted, it's easier just to wait till you hear the important words, like dinner or walk, and then listen, but you do sometimes miss information. For instance, if a buddy says, "We'll go to the store and then go for a walk," you suddenly realize you need to listen at the end of the statement. It's too late, then! I'm not saying you should listen all the time or anything, but it is a bummer.

Jack

I have to say that this mail has puzzled me a lot. I'm going to have to think about it more.

Dull Days

2005-02-16T08:02:00.000-06:00

It's been very, very dull and somewhat irritating around Chez Buddy lately. Puppy buddy got sick again, staying home from school, thereby preventing our doing much blogging or surfing. He had a cough so bad it was almost an impressive bark. No walks, no nuffin. Then, beta buddy leaves for a few days, and shuts down her computer. Since I can't get my paw around back of the thing, I can't turn it back on. I tried to talk Winston into doing it, but he would agree only if I taught him how to spam the dog newsgroups, and I refused. So, we're left hanging out on the couch and watching bad movies. (Not a single Scooby Doo movie among them.)

Puppy buddy is back in school, and beta buddy is home, so things should get back to normal in a few days. In the meanwhile, I've got to catch up on email and stuff before I can do much blogging.

How Buddies Know Stuff

2005-02-04T15:13:00.000-06:00

I got email from Bufford saying that he thinks he's figured out the mystery about how buddies sometimes know things dogs don't. He pointed out something I think should be emphasized--it's pretty rare. That was his first clue--whatever their source of information is, it must be something that is generally a waste of time. He says he thought about it for a while, and came up with:

talking

Now, if you're like me, you snorted so hard you started a sneezing attack. That seemed to be obviously completely impossible, as any dog knows that buddies talk all the time and say nothing worth hearing. Every dog knows that you listen for the few important words (walk, dinner, car, squirrel, Comealong Park, ranch, Petsmart, vet) and otherwise completely tune them out.

But, Bufford pointed out that that is exactly why it's so rare. See, he thinks some buddies make the mistake of listening to each other. (He says not very many of them make this mistake--most buddies seem to listen to each other no more attentively than dogs do.) But, if they do listen to each other, given that dogs don't, buddies would--every once in a great while--communicate something important. And dogs wouldn't hear it. (Unless it involved one of the magic words.)

I have to say that I find something pretty compelling about this argument. Not compelling enough to listen more carefully, mind you--this isn't worth cutting into nap time or anything--but enough to think that maybe Bufford's on to something.

Back to the Bus

2005-02-03T13:26:00.000-06:00

The puppy buddy has been home for several days. He wasn't sick, so I'm not entirely clear why, but I think it's because the bus never came for him. Today, though, we were back to our normal schedule, and walked him to the bus. I don't know how he knew the bus would come today and wasn't going to come on those other days, but he did.

Sometimes the buddies seem to know things that dogs don't, and I can't figure out why. It can't be that they've sensed it, as they can't smell a squirrel that's almost over their heads, and they can't hear a pig just a little bit into the brush. And it certainly can't be that they figure stuff out, as they have all the intelligence of a newborn puppy. Odd.

Having him home wasn't all that much fun, as the weather was pretty crummy. So, he and I spent a lot of time sitting on the couch watching movies. I enjoyed the ones about Buddy the dog (who plays football and soccer and stuff), and I always love _Scooby-Doo Two_, but a couple of the others didn't have a single dog in them. You know how that goes--you sit there waiting for the movie to get interesting, thinking, "Hmmm...well, maybe there'll be a dog in the movie soon..." but no go. I don't understand why they even make movies like that.

Bufford's Report (not yet)

2005-01-28T14:01:00.000-06:00

I have gotten Bufford's report, finally, but I'm going to hold on to it a bit. It's pretty controversial, and I know it's going to raise hackles. As I'm still recovering from the nettles-around-the-groin problem, I don't feel like a big political fight.

I will, however, reply to some email I got. This is really in the "Ask Hubert" vein.

"Dear Hubert:

I do love my buddies, but they can do some odd stuff. How do you keep them from bringing lots of strangers over? I hate it. They won't let me sniff the crotches of these people AND I DON'T KNOW IF IT'S SAFE TO LET THEM IN OR NOT. I get kind of crazy when all these people come over and then I get sent to the garage.

Help!
Sparky"

This really is a problem, and I completely understand. Part of our job as dogs is to guard entry into the house, and I realize that buddies get in the way our doing it right. But, buddies being buddies, you're never going to convince them that you need to sniff the crotch of every person who comes into the house. Just let that go. Do not, repeat, do not bark or make a scene about it. If you do, you're in the garage, and then there's nothing you can do.

I recommend stealth snarfs. Greet the stranger politely, and then, when they turn to put their coat up and your buddy is distracted, shove and snarf. Often, the stranger will try to pretend it didn't happen. If you aren't tall enough for that, wait till they sit down. If you just can't do a proper check, then check their shoes thoroughly. Lick them if necessary. George maintains that sniffing their ears and licking their faces can tell you a lot.

Here's the thing about all those strangers over: there is food. Often on low tables. If you're really lucky, like we've been, your buddy will make brisket and have too much left over. Don't eat it while people are there, or you're back in the garage. Wait till it's clean up time. Then, do that pass and swoop method. Never stand by a table, and certainly don't drool at it. Pretend you haven't even noticed it, and then just walk by. A quick grab, and off to a corner. Works great.

More on Buddy Training: Getting Breakfast

2005-01-26T13:11:00.000-06:00

I've been getting a lot of mail about buddy training problems. While I don't want this to turn into the "buddy training blog," as I really don't think my buddies are all that well-trained, I don't mind passing along a few hints from time to time.

Today's hints will be about how to get your buddies out of bed in the morning. Some mornings it's easy, and I don't know why, as those are the days they leave the house. They don't seem especially excited about leaving, so it's unclear to me why they would get out of bed so fast. On the fun days, the days that we go to Comealong Park, or hang around the house, the days that we look forward to, those are the days they just lounge around in bed.

I know that a lot of dogs have the impulse to destroy something to get them out of bed. Granted, it works. But, they get grumpy, and I've known a couple of dogs who found themselves crated (or, worse yet, locked in the garage), so I don't recommend that approach. Instead, I recommend the "stages" approach.

Stage 1: gentle greeting. George is in charge of this one. He licks a buddy's face (usually beta buddy). If necessary, use your nose to lift the covers off their face. If their back is turned, go for an armpit or small of their back. It works best if your nose is really cold--try licking it a few times first just to make sure. Make sure you have your cutest face and happy ears on, and do a very loving snuggle. You want them to feel guilty about pushing you away.

(Chester was a master at staring. He could stare anyone awake. Although I often watched him do it, I never figured out the trick--I think there's some kind of mental telepathy involved.)

Stage 2: repetitive noises. It's important that these be noises that you can't really get in trouble for. So, do things like give yourself a thorough bath with lots of loud slurping. If your buddy is Catholic, then sighing loudly works really well. Personally, I'm a big fan of getting the hiccups, but I think that only works if you're big enough to make the bed shake with every hiccup. Itching, while effective if you are on or leaned up against the bed, can backfire, as you might be given a bath once they do get up.

Stage 3: mysterious noises. George gets a chew toy, and works on it in some way that is both really loud and--here's the important point--doesn't sound as though it's a dog chew toy. He does it just out of view, so the buddy will, after a while of lying there wondering if he's chewing on furniture, have to get up to see what he's doing. You can also wander around downstairs sometimes banging into things. If your cats are on your side, then you can get them to knock things off tables. Low moans and whines are also effective.

Stage 4: wrestle with each other. For this to work, you either need to do the kind of crash through the house wrestling, or that open mouthed "arrrrgggghhhhh....grrrr..." kind of lying-down wrestling. Play with a squeaky chew toy, play chase with the cats, roll a ball around. This doesn't get you breakfast quickly, but it will get you outside time pretty fast.

Stage 5: scare them. This is risky, but sometimes necessary. You look out a window, and suddenly go completely ballistic. Bark wildly as though the house is being attacked by an army of possums. If you go from completely quiet to four alarm barking, you have the entertainment of seeing your buddy do an amazing kind of lying high jump. You can't do this one too often, or you'll end up in the crate or garage, but it's okay for emergencies.

Once you've gotten them up, do NOT punish them for having stayed in bed too long. No matter how long it took you to get them to move, give them positive reinforcement. I know it's hard sometimes, but always remember that buddies are very, very simple--give them love when they get something right. They can't help the fact that they just aren't very quick on the uptake, and it's a waste of time to punish them for something they can't control. Just reward them for their success.

Broken Nail

2005-01-25T13:02:00.000-06:00

Sorry for the long silence, but I broke a nail. Now, before all of you hurt yourselves snorting, I should explain that a broken nail in a Great Dane is no trivial problem--the beta buddy almost passed out when she saw all that blood all over the kitchen floor. It's really their fault. I can't manage the nail clippers, and, when a nail gets long, it splits. So, this was another trip to the vet, and I'm supposed to soak my foot twice a day. This involves putting my paw into warm BLUE water that mildly stings. They can try--that's all I have to say--they can try.

Almost Back to Normal

2005-01-18T13:50:00.000-06:00

Well, I guess puppy buddy is finally back to normal, as we did get to walk him to the bus stop today. We did a shortened version of the Come Along Park walk on Saturday, but he looked pretty unhappy, and took a nap afterwards (he hates naps--weird), so I think he wasn't yet well. Meanwhile, on our last week's trip to the park, I had run through some brambles that scratched me...well....I'd rather not give any details (this is not Fuzzy Sullivan's blog--I keep medical details to myself)...but somewhere painful. It isn't getting better, even though I lick it a lot every day. (There are some good sides to it, I suppose.) The COLD water felt pretty good on it, but terrible on my back, so I didn't wade much.

A cold front came in last night. Cold fronts make the kitties loony (yes, it is possible for kitties to be more loony than usual), and make beta buddy toss and turn and puppy buddy sleep badly. So, beta and puppy and one of the cats and Marquis all ended up on my bed last night. Very crowded. And every time I fell asleep, alpha buddy objected to my dreaming (can I help it if I run in my sleep? I'm sorry about kicking her kidneys, but maybe she should sleep curled up like Marquis does), and pushed me awake. So, I intend to nap most of the day.

I know that I promised an update from Bufford, but he's also been having trouble getting adequate computer use. I'm still way behind on my email anyway, so I probably wouldn't have gotten to it. I will, though, I promise.

Missing Work

2005-01-11T15:23:00.000-06:00

Puppy buddy is still sick, and so not getting on the bus in the morning. The first morning I didn't care too much, but Marquis and George barked like mad when the bus came. They were upset that they were missing work. I told them our job is to escort puppy buddy, not to meet the bus, but they pointed out that our job must be to meet the bus, because that's the only time we get to go on a walk.

Took me a while to get their point, but I kind of do. They think that our walk is our reward for meeting the bus. The evidence in their favor is that we didn't get any walks the last few mornings. I'm skeptical, still, as this is in the category of believing that our buddies are punishing us, and I'm not sure they're that smart or complicated. Still and all, just in case they're right, I also barked this morning when the bus came and we weren't at the bus stop. Didn't help. We still didn't get the walk.

Under the Weather

2005-01-10T11:47:00.000-06:00

We're all generally operating under the weather in one way or another. Saturday was fine, but, on the trip to Come Along Park, I slipped in the mud a few times. So, that night I was pretty sore, and complaining about my back. In the middle of the night, puppy buddy had an allergic reaction, or something, and was complaining about his throat and having trouble breathing. I don't know what to do when that happens--the only health remedy I know is eat grass and throw up, and I doubt that works under those circumstances. Lots of rushing around and very little sleeping. Sunday morning both Marquis and George were trying to throw up, my back still hurt, puppy buddy had a fever and was lying on the couch, and alpha and beta were staggering around like the monsters in "Scooby Doo on Zombie Island." Later that afternoon, everyone tried to take a nap. Puppy, beta, and I succeeded. Marquis, who was now feeling fine, decided that what alpha buddy really needed was to play, so he kept dropping a block of wood on alpha buddy's head. Puppy buddy's fever got worse, they rush off (I guess to take him to the vet), and we hang around the house and worry.

Sunday night was, believe it or not, worse. Beta decided to sleep on the floor with puppy buddy, and that bothered Marquis and George. I didn't much like it either, but I just snorfed in beta's ear till she woke up and made me a bed next to them. George kept stepping on her head, and Marquis was bugging them till he worked his way under puppy's covers and settled down. In the middle of the night, puppy buddy woke up with a bad fever, so another disturbed night. Sleeping on the floor was not good for my back, puppy buddy is too sick to play, and alpha and beta still look like something from a horror movie. So, all in all, not a good time.

More on Buddy Training

2005-01-06T09:29:00.000-06:00

I've gotten a bunch of mail from various beasties noting that I seem to have very smart (by which they mean "train-able") buddies. Well, I'm not sure that's true. In the first place, I'm not sure that "smart" and "train-able" are the same thing at all, and I don't know that I'd want a smart buddy. Granted, their goofiness can be irritating at times, but the obliviousness of our buddies often works to our advantage--they don't notice our using their computers, reading their books, snagging food (except for Marquis and George getting into the corn meal, but the mess was too big to clean up in time).

I also think that, to the degree our buddies are trained, it's because they're not the smartest brains around. For instance, if we jump on the couch, they move over, and I don't think they even notice that they're doing it. It's easy to snag the covers at night, push them into little scrunched-up sleeping positions, get them to take us places, give us snacks and chew toys, and even get them to throw things for us almost anytime we want. It's because they're not too bright that they leave the potato chip bag out (mmmmm....bbq flavored is my favorite!) and open.

And I'm not sure they're really all that well-trained. I'm not complaining, mind you, and I know that lots of my readers put up with much worse (e.g., Aiko and the ribbons), but, I mean, whoof. For example, the other night, beta buddy joins me on the guest bed. I'm not sure why, but I'd guess it was because someone was snoring in her room (whether alpha buddy or Marquis is impossible to know). So, she gets between me and the wall! Seriously! I stood up on the bed and stared at her, but she just fluffed the pillow and rolled over. I whimpered. "Huh?" she mumbles, and then tries to put the blanket over my head. Granted, I do like to sleep with the blanket over my head, but that was not what I wanted right then. This went on for half an hour!!!!!!!! I would whimper, and she would try some other possumfoolthang. It took her that long to figure out that I was NOT going to sleep on the side of the bed where I might fall off. Finally, she traded sides with me, covered my head (again), and we finally were able to get some sleep. You call that smart?

Come Along Park

2005-01-05T10:37:00.000-06:00

I've written before about my favorite park, which, I'll grant, is actually called Emma Long Park, but I like my name better. One day, a couple of months ago, some guy handed the buddies a piece of paper, and explained that the powers that be were thinking of making it not a dog park anymore. The paper had the email address of the administrator who would make the decision. The buddies promised to send email, but I was worried (considering that beta buddy jumped in the water with the paper in her back pocket, I don't think my concern was un-merited).[1]

Alpha buddy did send mail, but George and Marquis and I read it, and we thought it was lame. So, we sent a much better letter from his account. (Alpha buddy didn't think it was the least bit odd that he got *two* responses to one piece of email, one very brief and the other much longer.) Shortly after that, beta buddy took me and George (she only takes two of us when she goes alone--don't know why), and we saw all sorts of buddies working on the trail, putting up signs, and various things. George was barking at them a lot, trying to explain to them that they should keep it a dog park. I told him they don't understand Bark, but he said it was worth trying. Beta buddy was babbling like a lunatic the way she does when George barks at people (which isn't all that often--his barking, not her babbling; she babbles a lot). Then, we ran into someone who explained that the decision was to keep it an off-leash dog park, but to block some of the side trails to prevent erosion and protect endangered species. So, George didn't bark at them anymore after that.

Still and all, it seems weird to me. I understand about not wanting dogs to run off into the woods and chase birds, but I don't understand their concern about erosion. The trail is eroding--that's absolutely true. But it's eroding because it gets a lot of use! Isn't that a good thing? Isn't that a sign that it's popular and needed? The other thing I find puzzling is that they put up signs that say something like, "Access prohibited due to endangered species protection. Violation will result in fines." So, does that mean that they know dogs can read?

[1] In her defense, I will grant that she jumped in the water because Marquis had fallen in a fairly deep part of the creek, and was--in sheer panic--failing to scramble back out.

Home with the pack

2005-01-03T11:42:00.000-06:00

The pack stayed home for a week, making it hard to blog, and then beta buddy went off somewhere and shut down the Mac. I couldn't figure out how to turn it on, and I don't do PC, so I just let the blogging slide. The big news is lots of squirrel chases, and a trip to the ranch. Bufford, who usually spends this time of year at the kennel, should have lots of interesting news which I'll pass along when I hear from him.

He explained to me about Christmas, but I'm still vague on the guy with with beard and red suit. For some reason, the beta buddy takes me to him this time of year and makes me have my picture taken. Whoof! She knows I'm twitchy around big guys with white hair, so what in the world is she thinking? In the past, I've been with Chester or puppy buddy or something, so I figured I was okay with them around, but this time she seemed to think I would do it by myself. Sheyeah, right. I balked. The twit had a squeaky toy and whatever and I simply refused. I DO NOT TRUST BIG MEN WITH WHITE HAIR. Okay? Can we be clear on this? Luckily, I got her to give up, so we can hope that nonsense is a thing of the past.

Puppy buddy got a car for Christmas. You wouldn't think it possible for them to find a smaller car than the ones they drive all the time, but they did. This one is so small it fits inside the others! It also goes only about the speed of a good walk. Odd. We took it to the ranch the day after Christmas (we all got rubber squeaky toys--pretty good for rubber ones, but I prefer the soft, fuzzy kind) and puppy buddy drove around with alpha. The puppies hung with them, but I stuck with beta buddy. She walks much slower, but usually covers more ground, and often wanders off into the brush. So, all in all, I prefer her company (and I figure she needs the protection more than puppy and alpha). It's really weird, though--she just picks up rocks. Rocks. I'm not kidding. Rocks.

Didn't see the cows this time, but chased a couple of bunnies and a deer. We coulda' caught it, too, if we'd really wanted.

No Snacking on Medicine!!!!

2004-12-16T08:18:00.000-06:00

Okay, pups, this is when I give some advice. Some dogs out there get a small piece of a good smelling crunchy thing on a regular basis--sometimes once a month, sometimes once a day, sometimes twice a day. Turns out, despite how good these things smell, it's medicine. Often, buddies will leave the container of this medicine on the counter. Do not, repeat, do NOT get it off the counter and eat it all.

George has now, it is to be hoped, learned that lesson.

Yesterday evening, after alpha buddy had finished reading to me, Marquis, and puppy buddy, and alpha and puppy were each reading in their own beds, beta buddy came home. I didn't even hear her till she was halfway up the stairs and cursing like a Doberman. "Who ate the Deramaxx?" she asked. "What?" said alpha buddy. "Who ate the Deramaxx?" she repeated. "What????" "Who ate the Deramaxx?" "WHAT?!" Then alpha buddy does his Doberman impression, says, "It must have been George!" and they both rush back downstairs.

Having once eaten a bottle of Chester's arthritis medicine, I knew what was next, so I retired to the guest bed. Sure enough, they gave the same stuff to George they gave to me, and then took him outside. Now, being a dog, I think a good puke is a good puke, but this stuff makes you think you're going to lose intestines. alpha buddy stands around in the cold watching George barf, beta buddy is back in the house trying to calm down puppy buddy, Marquis is basically running around in circles trying to figure out what's going on, and I'm trying to steer clear of everyone. Then, beta buddy is off in the car with George. A few hours later, she's back without him, but the buddies are pretty calm, so I figure he's okay. After a few hours sleep, everybody's up, beta buddy disappears for about an hour and then is back with George who has a bandage on his leg, and is tired from being up most of the night, but is otherwise in great shape. He says they were pretty nice at the place, except for attaching this weird thing to his leg and trying to get him to pee in a cup (um, whoof? he's a dog--do they think dogs pee in cups? what is with them sometimes?)

Anyway, the moral of the story is: don't be tricked. Why they make something bad for you taste good is just another way buddies, nice as they can be, are whoofing nuts.

Buddy Training

2004-12-15T14:50:00.000-06:00

I've received several pieces of email asking me how I trained the buddies to open the door when I ring the bell. It wasn't especially hard, really, once they put the bell on the door. I have no idea how one would go about it if they don't make that first step, though.

The basic principle of good buddy training is that you encourage them to do what you want them to do, and then you reward them for doing it. I'm not a big believer in negative reinforcement (and here I know all my cat readers are scoffing) because I don't think buddies have the necessary level of cognitive complexity.

Look at it this way: your buddies do something wrong (they don't take you for a walk, or they fail to feed you, or they don't turn on your favorite program). It takes you a while to figure out that it's really happening--are they just confused about time? (a major problem with most buddies) are they just delaying it for some bizarre reason? Okay, now you've decided they are unacceptably late with your walk or food. First, you have to get mad, and I'm not good at that, and second, you have to do something that will make them unhappy and that they will associate with their own behavior. See, that's the tricky part. You eat their favorite shoes, or crap by the front door, or lie on the couch and sulk, and they may not notice for hours. Once they notice, it's too long between what they did wrong and their discovering what you did for them to connect the two things. Punishing them would only work if they could do several things at once: first, remember what they did wrong (and, since the whole problem is that they have the attention span of Irish setter puppies, that isn't very likely); second, understand that they have made you unhappy; third, connect two and one. Not very likely.

Nope, I think it's easier just to trick them into doing what you want and then rewarding them. For instance, every time the buddies come home we make a Great Big Greeting--we are all over them with love and affection. We are trying to ensure that they remember to come home (otherwise, who knows what would happen). Same thing when they finally get out of bed--leap around, lick a lot, do play bows, the whole bit. After they feed us, we go to them and share our dog food breath, maybe do a burp or two to show just how good it was--lots of positive reinforcement. When they take us on a walk, we make it lots of fun--point out all the interesting smells, mark as much stuff as we can (they never follow suit, but I haven't given up hope), be really positive and excited.

Okay, so the bell thing. Well, they put the bell on the door. Then, for a while, they rang the bell before they opened the door. At that point, it's very, very important that you run outside every time they do that (whether or not you really wanted to go outside). This way, they will associate you going outside and hearing that bell. Just keep that up for a bit, and then you've got the association made. At that point, you just ring the bell yourself when you want to go out. Works great.

A Day at the Ranch

2004-12-13T09:11:00.000-06:00

Saturday was great. I knew something was up from the way they started to load the car--they put THE boots in. (The ones that mean a trip to the ranch.) Chester used to say that, once you saw that happen, just go hang out on the couch, but the three of us stick to beta buddy's heels (almost literally--no more than a few inches behind is my rule). Chester used to say, "They're going to get in the car, so they have to go past the living room--why follow them upstairs? You think they're going to crawl out a window or something?" Well, I figure, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've ever done, and I'm not taking any chances.

Anyway, we get all loaded up, and then the drive. Windows up, unfortunately, so no good smells. (Although Marquis says that, if you hang your head over the driver's seat in just the right way, you can get a good scent from a vent. The driver will usually grump about it, since that means he's slobbering all over their left ear, but who cares about a little grumping?)

So, we get down there and run around the car a bunch. Then, off for a hike to a tank. Not the best tank--the mud isn't all that stinky, and there aren't usually birds to chase--but good for a splash. Here's the great thing. We start to walk back, and came upon three COWS!!!!!!!!! Whoof, those beasts are big. I mean, I sort knew that--you see them from the car, and they look pretty big, but up close they are massive. So, they kind of snort at us, and I barked. But, then, I started to think maybe this wasn't such a great idea--one of The Rules that Chester told me is "Don't muck with hooves." But, George got really excited, and started barking like mad. They took off running!!!!!

I thought chasing pigs was fun, but, dawg, this was extrawhoofingordinary. There's something about chasing a beast ten times your size that is good for a howl. And these were crashing through brush like nobody's business. Finally, they stopped and turned around, and that's when we figured we'd run far enough (about halfway across the ranch, Marquis says). So, we trotted back.

A couple other long walks during the day, and several more good chases. Didn't chase the cows again, but did go after a pig, a buck, and a rabbit. (Here's some unsolicited advice: Under normal circumstances, when a rabbit goes to ground, you shove your nose in the hole as far as you can and take a big deep breath, right? Well, normally that's great, but this is not good practice when the rabbit runs under a cactus. Believe me. Believe Marquis. The whole process of the buddies pulling the thorns out with tweezer is not fun.) The only one we didn't give a good run was the buck, who seemed to clear three trees before we'd gone two steps--I figure it's because we were tired. Otherwise, we could have.

All in all, three tails up.

What Walls Are Made Of

2004-12-10T08:23:00.000-06:00

Life continues at Chez Buddy much the same. George and Marquis have been having an intermittent discussion as to just what the house is made of. Marquis gets a little stressed during heavy rains because he's convinced the house is made of plaster, and therefore is convinced it could melt. George kept saying, "No, the plaster is over something else." But, Marquis was adamant. So, George proved it. He chewed a bunch of plaster off the wall--about a three by four inch rectangle--in order to let Marquis see the wall underneath. Maybe this will mean Marquis won't be such a pain in the rain.

George says it wasn't hard. It was a spot on the landing where he likes to hang out during the day--the same spot where he chewed a hole in the carpet to show Marquis the floor. He says the only problem is that it gave him bad gas. (In other words, don't try this at home, puppies!)

Of course, the buddies leaped around a fair bit when they saw it. I guess they were surprised to see what was underneath the plaster. I would have thought they would know.

Nuthin' Much

2004-12-05T09:35:00.000-06:00

It's a weekend, but the beta buddy doesn't feel well. Why they don't just go outside and eat grass and throw up is beyond me. Instead, they lie around and whine. She was playing on the computer yesterday, and I tried lying there and looking at her in a pointed fashion. Didn't work. So, I started the low whine thing. "What in the world do you want?" she kept asking. Rowhoof! I want to go outside! I want you to come with me and chase me around the back yard! I want to go to a park. No luck.

All that happened is that they took me to that place where they have lots of plants. It's outside, and we walk around all these trees and shrubs, AND I'M NOT ALLOWED TO PEE ON ANY OF THEM. This time, there were trees--lots of them--and they smelled good. Sometimes we just get little bitty plants that aren't good to eat.

(On a digression, I have to note that that is her intention. That's one of the questions she always asks people there when she picks up this little nothing of a green thing--"Will my dog eat it?" The first time she asked that, I thought she was looking for stuff for me to eat. Not my favorite place, but, I thought, she's trying. No, when the person said I might, she put it back!)

Anyway, a fair amount of scritching, and that was nice, and there was a squirrel in one of the huge trees! I also met a buddy there that I liked a lot--good scritching. And then I heard him tell the buddies how he tries to catch squirrels! I knew he was good from the second I smelled him. So, this means that they can be trained--I don't know who trained him, or how, but I sure would like to.

Small Dogs (Again)

2004-12-02T10:27:00.000-06:00

I am, of course, getting all sorts of hostile and threatening email for my stand in regard to small dogs. I tell ya, though, being 120 pounds and 33 inches at the withers means I'm not exactly shaking in my booties.

The problem, apparently, is that I don't hate small dogs. This, of course, from beasties who will, out the other side of the jowl, say, "Love the dog, hate the smallness." As I said, distinction without a difference. If you punish the dog for being small, if you attack it, try to restrict where it can live, say nasty things about it, and pee on its fences, you are acting with hatred toward the dog. If, deep in your heart of hearts, you claim you love it, but behave with hatred, well, I'd say the proof is in the kibble. Know a dog by its spoor and all that kind of thing. Hatred is as hatred does--the deep in the heart stuff should be called by its true name: rampant rationalization.

Booorrrring....

2004-11-30T10:09:00.000-06:00

It's been raining, and so there isn't much to do. I can't read or watch tv very much during the day, as the alpha buddy is home. Marquis keeps trying to read mystery novels--if the alpha buddy comes upstairs, Marquis just pretends he was tearing the book up. Doesn't work very well, though, as then he's left wondering who the murderer was. I usually blog while alpha buddy is running errands or eating lunch, but that isn't all that much time.

Sometimes the three of us charge around the house. It usually starts when George picks up a piece of cardboard and starts running around. Way fun. I bark, Marquis chases him, he crashes into stuff. Weird thing, though, is that the alpha buddy always tries to get us to do it outside, especially if he's on the phone. Don't know why, as it isn't nearly as much fun. I thought it was because he wanted to join us--that's what puppy buddy does--but he just kind of shoos us out and then forgets, I guess. So, I bark outside trying to get his attention--you know, remind him that we're out there and waiting for him to join in--and HE BRINGS US BACK IN. So, of course, we charge around the house barking and crashing. We can do this cycle more times than you would think possible--alpha buddy never remembers to join us.

Back to blogging

2004-11-29T11:42:00.000-06:00

Sorry for the silence--the buddies were all home for the last four days! And alpha and puppy buddy for five days! We went to Comealong Park TWICE. The water was really high, and pretty cold, so George was the only one to swim. Puppy buddy wanted to swim, but alpha and beta said "NO!", so he "fell" in the water a couple of times. Even he got cold after a while and had to borrow a sweatshirt from beta buddy. But the walks were great--lots of other dogs (we even added to the pack for a while, a cool pitbull puppy named Roscoe, but his buddy caught up and took him away), good smells, and tons of fun. I also got taken to some other park where we usually go swimming, and where there are usually lots of dogs, but not this time. The swimming area there was blocked off--I guess the water was too cold or something. I just hung around and let people scritch me while the puppy buddy played with other puppies. (I will confess to being more than a little tired of people saying, "That isn't a dog; that's a horse." The first ten thousand times I heard it, it was not funny. It's even less funny now.)

The only other excitement was that the squirrel was walking across that big wire or rope thing that's way high up in the air in our backyard. We were all doing our best to jump up at it, but it was way too high. Chester never told me what you're supposed to do when squirrels do that.

What about small dogs?

2004-11-23T11:21:00.000-06:00

I've gotten email from some dogs concerned that I don't seem to mention as much about small dogs, possums, and squirrels. Well, things are boring on the possum front--haven't seen one on the fence in months--but the squirrel chases have more than made up for that. Lots of great ones. Of course, not nearly as many as George thinks. He spends a lot of time barking at trees, but a brief review of the Chester blog reminds me that I used to do that, too, so I guess I won't make fun of him.

In fact, he has gotten to into the chase thing that he has taken to chasing birds away from the bird feeder. I have tried to explain to him that it is a bird feeder, meaning that birds are supposed to eat from it, but I haven't gotten anywhere.

I haven't said much about small dogs because I don't share Chester's antipathy. I've written about that elsewhere, so I won't say much here.

I will say, though, that the whole "love the dog, hate the smallness" thing doesn't make any sense to me. The dog is small. When you love a small dog, you love a small dog; it isn't as though smallness is some separate part of its identity.

Oh, I know there are those who believe smallness is a choice, although they can't explain why puppies are born small, and I know that there are those who believe that you can put elevator pads and all that stuff on small dogs and make them run around pretending to be big. But, at the end of the day, they're still small. And that's fine by me.

What's Been Happening, Pt. IV

2004-11-22T11:14:00.000-06:00

George reminds me that I didn't tell about his big adventure. The whole thing remains unclear to me on crucial points, about which George generally says, "Dunno," so if it seems a little elliptical, that's because it is.

As I mentioned before, on those mornings when people sleep in (Bufford says they're called "weekends"), we usually go for a long walk. Then, at night, the buddies all gather in the "study" and read or play computer games. We usually hang out with them, or I doze on the guest bed. Alpha buddy stays up way late playing computer games, long after beta and puppy buddy have gone to bed. Well, one night, George wouldn't come upstairs, even after beta and puppy went to bed--he didn't like some kids were hanging out on the street--bad juju, he said. "What, precisely, is wrong with those people?" I asked. "Dunno," he said, "bad juju." "What, precisely, does 'bad juju' mean," I asked. "Dunno," he said, "just, you know, bad juju." I went to bed.

So, he says, he was staring out the front windows watching these kids when the guy who has all that pizza showed up. (You know that guy? Whenever he comes, I am all over him--I wish I could get him to come more often, but he seems scared when I rush to him at the door.) They show the pizza guy something AND HE THREW HIS PIZZA AT THEM!!! George went nuts, and starts barking like a mad dog. Marquis jumped up and ran downstairs. I didn't pay any attention, I have to confess, because he's barking something about "They're throwing pizzas!" and I figure it's one of those barking-in-your-sleep episodes. (At first the buddies just yelled at George to stop barking, but, when the police showed up, decided they had been wrong.) Anyway, the kids run off, police show up (with Sargent, who did some tracking), and big excitement all around with buddies talking to police and police taking pictures of the pizza on the ground and so on. (But, they would not let us out to eat the pizza! Why take pictures of it? It's PIZZA, ferdawgsake, you EAT it.)

George was like a big hero around here for quite a while, and the buddies now pay close attention when he barks.

What's Been Happening, Pt. III

2004-11-21T11:11:00.000-06:00

Another big change has been that the alpha buddy is around a lot. He's got a blog about that. If you think I'm too hard on the buddies for being clueless, note his version of the rainy night ("Rain Rain Go Away"). I told you he had no explanation for taking the bell down.

Reading his blog reminds me of the trip to the ranch. We didn't take George--I don't know why not--but I'm sort of glad. It was pretty crowded as is. The buddies drive leetle cars. Every time we're in a parking lot, they pick out the same little cars. I always try to drag them to a big truck--that's what I think they should be driving--but then they go back to their same ones. Odd. Anyway, so there we are in the Highlander with me and Marquis in the very back. Marquis kept sitting on my head.

It was raining at the ranch, but I didn't mind too much. Good rabbit chasing (I almost caught about three, and I'm sure I would have if Marquis hadn't gotten in the way). No pigs this time (they are SO much fun to chase--they squeal like...well...like pigs!), no deer either. I smelled pigs, and coyotes, so they were around. Maybe they've learned to stay away. (Sorry, I just snorted so hard I hurt myself.)

Marquis went wading in the tank, and was bragging about how baaaaaaad he smelled. It was impressive--he'd gotten into that black kind of really sticky mud and covered much of the back of the Highlander with it. The alpha buddy had a really weird reaction, though, kind of a little fit. I assume he was jealous, but he knows where the tank is, so I don't know why he didn't get into it, too. We didn't do any really long walks this time, but it was still a good trip.

What's Been Happening, Pt. II

2004-11-20T08:10:00.000-06:00

I'm slowly getting to like Marquis. He's got some lab, and I don't know what else, maybe Sharpei. (When he chases bugs, he gets a very wrinkled forehead.) He's about fifty pounds, so Chester would approve. I was kind of cool toward him at first, because he wasn't going to stay, and I don't like the way he sits on me when I'm lying on the guest bed. But, we're getting to be better buds all the time.

The pack has developed a pretty nice pattern. Many days the beta buddy gets up in the dark, and we all go for a short walk around the block. I love it--we're the first dogs out on the fresh smells, and you know how much stronger everything smells when it's dark? We used to go down into the drainage ditch, and she'd let me off leash. I loved running around every one of the fences and getting all of the dogs to bark. Because it was dark, they'd all go nuts--there I am, running around, five or six dogs barking. Whoof. We don't do that any more--I don't know why. Now we just go around the block (unless it's raining, and then I don't even bother getting out of bed). Then, after the walk, it's back to bed till breakfast is ready. After breakfast, the alpha buddy lets us walk the puppy buddy to the bus stop. Sometimes we get to bark at other dogs that go by, sometimes we just bark at the kids who run, sometimes we just get scritched. After that, a longish walk with the alpha buddy. Back home, and mid-morning nap.

On one of the mornings when people don't get up early, we all head off to a park. I used to think it was called "Comealong Park." Turns out it's Emma Long Park, but I think my name is better. It's a couple mile walk mostly along a creek. aaaaaooooooooo!!!!! Four tails up. Lots of other dogs, good wading, good smells, and entirely off-leash. I love it (especially now that George has gotten over his car sickness and the drive isn't as nerve wracking as it was when I was wondering if I was going to be covered in...well, we won't go there....).

The kittens are as loony as ever, but don't run around as much as they used to. They whined for a while after the alpha buddy blocked the way that scorpions were getting in the house--Winston loved the challenge. George still hasn't gotten completely over his sting, though, so I'd just as soon keep the scorpions on the other side of the door.

The alpha buddy put Mr. Bluefish in the toilet bowl. Seems a strange place for a fish to me, but chalk it up to how weird they are.

What's Been Happening, Pt I

2004-11-19T07:58:00.000-06:00

As most of my readers know, this is a continuation of the Chester blog. The last entry on that was about how I came out of my depression with the arrival of George Washington, a shepherd/lab mix. I'll try to fill in the blanks as to what has happened since then, but it'll take a few entries, as I only have while the alpha buddy is messing with stuff downstairs.

George is great, and we get along fine. We took him to the ranch, and he loved it. Unfortunately, I forgot to warn him about barbed wire (there are so many things Chester didn't tell me!), and he did that thing where it catches and snaps back. Whoof. We took him to a vet near there, and it turns out the vet also is a vet for the Iditorad!!!!!!! I saw a picture of him with Snowshoe!!!!! Way bone.

Coolhand Luke passed on not too long after Chester did. He just went downhill fast, and there wasn't much they could do. He missed Chester, and I just didn't have the patience for listening to complaints about arthritis the way Chester did.

Anyway, after a month or so of wrestling with George, my back was really hurting. Just around then, this other puppy shows up--looks like a smaller version of George. The buddies were talking about how they were going to foster him. He and George took to wrestling, which was good for my back (leaving me the task of chasing them around the yard, just as much fun and not nearly as rough on the spine). The buddies named him Marquis de Lafayette, something about his following George around and looking up to him. The beta buddy was going on about, "No, no, if we're going to try to find a home for him, we name him 'Cowboy' or 'Buddy'" but she was outvoted. After we had him for two weeks, I heard her tell the puppy buddy she had found Marquis a home. The puppy buddy's lip started to shake (I HATE when they do that). She said, "Bear, I told you we weren't going to keep him." He said, "I know, mom, but it's just that hellos are so much more fun than goodbyes."

She should have just given up then, but instead said, "What do you mean?" "Well," he said, "we had to say goodbye to Chester, and then Coolhand Luke, and now Marquis." I heard her go upstairs and say something to the alpha buddy. Now we are a family of three dogs.

Bad nights

2004-11-18T08:00:00.000-06:00

It's been raining here a lot lately, and I really don't like the rain. It makes the buddies' behavior very strange, even by their rather high standards. For instance, the other night, I needed to pee. Okay, normally, what would happen is: I ring the bell, someone (usually alpha buddy) gets up and opens the back door, I go out, I pee, I come back in and knock my bowl, he gives me a snack, we all go back to bed. But, in the rain, there's a problem. I ring the bell, someone gets up, opens the back door, and IT'S RAINING. Hello? Rain? See the rain? So, I try to get them to open the front door, to see if it's raining out that door, too, but no, they won't. What do they expect me to do? Go out in the rain? So, they rant for a while and go back to bed. I *still* have to pee, so I ring the bell again.

Here's the amazing thing. Do they do any of the reasonable things? Stop the rain? Let me out the front door where it might not be raining? No, after a few iterations of this thing, the alpha buddy TAKES THE BELL OFF THE DOOR. I'm not kidding. He just took it right off the door. Whoof. So, all the dogs got on the guest bed and the beta buddy covered us with a blanket. I held it till morning.

Inwhoofingexplicable.