Chip is a Very Good Boy

SUMMARY: And a tattletale. Which keeps Zorro safe.

        Posted on Facebook June 9, 2019, without photo

Dogs can convey so much with their voice and body language. If only we understood. Sometimes I succeed. I was sitting here quietly typing away, beautiful quiet morning, and heard Chip whimper in the front hall. Well, earlier he had said, "I just heard something and it was scary," so I figured it was more of the same.

But then he came into the kitchen in a little trot on his tippy toes, little whines, head and ears down like "something's wrong" but in a bouncy happy way, if you can picture it, like "something's exciting but different and I don't know if it's OK." I asked him casually, half paying attention, "Is there a cat in the front yard?", then >>sudden lightbulb!<< I leaped up, raced to the front door to open it, and sure enough, there was Zorro wandering around out front. I said HI! to him and he dashed into the house. Chip was very happy and I praised him enthusiastically.

Side gate was open. Latch apparently isn't working properly and needs repair. Thank you, Chip! I think I recognized the message because on a very few other occasions Zorro has been out front or accidentally closed in the garage (latter is not quite so exciting, but still concerning, apparently).

Buds playing, September 2015

Zorro attacks Chip when--

SUMMARY: Odd dog behavior patterns.

Today's "fun" dog behavioral pattern:

Zorro attacks Chip (so I have a fight on my hands) when:

• Zorro naps behind my office chair and I roll backwards and hit him
• I tell Chip in an annoyed or angry mother voice not to do something
• I tell Zorro in an annoyed or angry mother voice not to do something
• The dogs are excited (e.g., visitor) and I try to grab Zorro's collar to keep him from jumping on the visitor or attacking Chip
• We're out for a walk and Chip starts to bark enthusiastically at another dog
• I'm dozing off at night and both dogs are in their separate beds at opposite ends of my king-sized bed--I never see what precipitates this one, except that when I snap on my light, it's always at Chip's bed, nowhere near Zorro's bed (and Zorro's bed is closer to me than Chip's, usually). This is the biggest reason why, for the first time in my life (other than with new dogs), the dogs are now usually sleeping in their crates at night.

Zorro does NOT attack Chip (thank goodness; I don't need more stupid fights) when:

• Chip, who is astonishingly picky about his personal space at times, leaps up and snaps at Zorro because Zorro was, I don't know, scratching and wiggled the bed, or, whatever, maybe Zorro looked at him?

Stalking Tiger

SUMMARY: In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the tiger sneaks tonight...

Cleverly disguising himself as a large wild predator, Luke sneaks up on an unsuspecting Chip.

(Darn it, I couldn't get the photo where it was all the way over his head like a cowl.  He had rolled around on it and when he stood up, it came with him.)

Tunnel Chase

SUMMARY: Running dogs.

This time, Chip is chasing Luke. Sometimes it's the other way 'round.  For several days, Luke didn't do the tunnels at all. Then he walked through the straight one (in the background) a few times on his own, then for a few days, during chases, he'd run through it, back around, and through it again, repeat repeat repeat.  I finally saw him walking into and through the curved tunnels a couple of times. Running through these other tunnels is new today as far as I know!

(Chip already had been doing some running w/Luke and chasing the dog next door and is tiring out, so this isn't the full-blast chase.)

Luke learned the tunnel running during chases from Chip. He also learned the going back and forth inside from Chip.

Names names names

SUMMARY: Darn it, Chip and Luke are nothing like each other!

And yet--time after time, in spoken words and in my blog, I type the wrong name.

Sigh. I might have to change Luke's name after all, because apparently my brain thinks they're the same thing. Because they're both common, one-syllable, 4-letter boys' names, or, I don't know. Darn brain. It might be like SP changed Cutter to Butter because she kept following the K sound with Kinetic instead of Cutter (same breed, new adopted dog).

Now would be the time to do it if I'm going to. But I haven't been obsessing for months over possible dog names, so I'm going to have to start, and do it fast.

I've called him these, more or less deliberately, while dealing with him the last week:

• Loki
• Punk

But I also believe in the power of names in ones' own mind, so by calling him either of those, I'm expecting him to be naughty.

I also thought briefly about Stark. Hmm. Maybe I'll think more about that. You think he looks like an ironman?  And it's not too much off Luke, but at the same time, different from Chip. I think.   

(Fun interlude into brain pathways: You have to understand how my mind sees names...  oh, yes, you have to ... For example, if I'm struggling to remember someone's name, I might come up with Jack Smith, and it turns out that his name is John Brown, because, I guess, Jack and John are both common, 4-letter, one-syllable men's names starting with J, and Smith and Brown are both common, 5-letter, one-syllable last names. Really. This sort of thing happens to me all the time.  It's possible that that's from a lifetime of doing crossword puzzles, but who knows.)

Anyway, by those rules,  Luke and Stark would NOT be the same--latter is not common, is not four letters, and doesn't start with the same letter.  Hmmm.

References

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• Wikipedia entry on Tony Stark, aka Iron Man--genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, although don't know that he ever pees on the carpet.  
• And the fair-use image from WP, hmmm, I see some similarity in coloring and attitude, too!

Well, This is a Bit More Complicated Than Expected

SUMMARY: Luke and company.  With only 2 interruptions.

This new dog is not, by any means, housebroken.

I'm trying to start over from scratch. I take him outside every time he comes out of his crate, after he's eaten, after he's played, and before I bring him into the house if he's been out in the yard for a while. And yet I had TWO pees in the house today:

1. He and Chip were playing in my office, and then he played alone with his newly discovered Love, the Giant Dog Cushion.
   
   
   (This is after I had to soak with bitter apple the corner of the cushion's cover where the zipper pull is because he was determined to chew it off.) I was counting some things while sitting at my desk. Luke stepped away from the cushion and stood there panting. I dropped the file back into the drawer so that I could take him outside, and I said, Come On, and he bent his back legs and peed right there on the carpet. I had taken him out and watched him pee less than half an hour before that.
2. I was lying on the couch. He and Chip had been playing. As often seems to happen after play sessions, it ends with Chip lunging and snarling at him. I managed to talk them apart and was soothing Chip. I stood up and walked briskly towards the door, saying, Let's go, Luke! and he briskly dashed ahead of me, stopping suddenly to pee on the sofa cushion leaning under the dining table.

Jeez. I don't know how to manage this!  I suppose I should post a photo of the huge pile of rags I've used in the last week.  I've had to refill the Nature's Miracle squirt bottle 3 times from the gallon refill.

Yesterday I think it was zero times, but he was in his crate and I was gone for over 8 hours total.

The day before, 3 times. Once I wasn't paying attention, and the other 2 times, somewhat like today, I was paying attention. And a few other times in the preceding days. Potty training feels like it's getting worse, not better.

I had not expected this.

[Hola! Just now it's been just over 15 minutes since last pee. Since then, a bit of playing with Chip, a bit of chewing on a bone, and then Luke just got up and started wandering around, nose down. Whipped him outside and sure enough he peed a bathtub-load! Where does a little dog like him KEEP all that pee? This is the problem--peeing. all. day. long, and me taking him out--all. day. long. But this time, at least, I won.]

I don't like the way the play often ends between the two of them, and I can't see what's making it happen that way. I'm delighted that they'll play wrestle for 3 or sometimes 15 minutes, and often in that casual we're-both-lying-down-and-gently-interacting kind of play. But, so often, suddenly Chip is going after Luke, and Luke today is starting to return the action.

I don't know whether to try to keep them separated all the time, or to just break up the play quickly after it starts, or what. Darn it.

Luke does not return thrown toys and in fact doesn't even always chase them. If I try to play with him with a toy, he ignores me or he grabs my hand & wrist & fingers (whatever's available), neither of which is lovely.  I thought that it wasn't hard enough to hurt, but sometimes it is when I'm not in an easy position to get him off, and I'm realizing that, yep, after a week, my wrists and hands are bruised.  (Here's a truly gentle finger grab.)

 I can interact with him with food, and that's mostly it so far.

He has definitely graduated from finding dog toys everywhere (for days I kept being amazed at how well he knew which were dog toys and which weren't for the most part), but now he's in full-on assault on anything that I might have worn (shoes), touched (something that fell on the floor), moved (wastebasket full of stuff), etc.

On the up side, he's still just as cute as ever.

He's very smart. I love it when he makes that eye contact to get a treat for something.

He made me laugh (and curse) at the same time,  as I tried to keep him in the kitchen with me by closing the doors during the times I was there--and within a day he had figured out how to jump down (and back up) through the railing overlooking my carpeted office.

Like Boost used to do.  Of the six dogs I've had in this house, these are the only two to do that. (Jake used to jump down, but never back up.)

[Whoa, look, now he has a pair of my underwear!  We're not into "Drop it," apparently, and I have to get his attention that I have treats before he'll consider whether it's worth it to come back for it. Nope, doesn't want the kibble in the pocket. I race for the Zukes in the cabinet while he races for the yard. Didn't I close off my bedroom door? Oh, right, moved it when I went upstairs for pain pills a bit ago. Up I go to close it off again.]

He never stops moving until he sleeps.

I managed to get some of his sewing-needle-sharp toenails clipped this morning, but it took a long time; I'd hold his paw, stick a treat in his mouth, grab my clippers, line them up on his toenail, and he'd be wiggling and grabbing at my hand already.  Not a lot, not like in terror, but like as in come on don't keep sitting here holding my paw!

He's getting better and better at sitting in the back of his crate and waiting for a release when I open the crate door (thank you, crate games), but getting onto the floor and back up, or bending to do it, even if I drag a chair over every time (which I stopped doing after the first day, jeez).

[OK, he's decided that it's time to jump on my hands and grab them, and I have to disentangle him and get him into his crate again. DEFINITELY nap time again, even though it's only a little before bedtime. Just like a toddler, I can tell when he needs a rest by the increasing level of brattiness. So far, he's never giving himself the luxury of just lying there.]

He comes in from the garage quickly after I go out for something and come back in, even if he's distracted, because he comes when I call (not from anywhere else, but from the garage).  I always have to remember how very long it took for Tika to decide to pay attention when I called her in from the garage.  A long long long long time, and I think she was older than Luke when she got here.

But All day long during the times when he's out of his crate (back in every couple of hours so I can rest or when he starts acting like a brat) it feels as if I'm constantly practicing back-away-from-the -treats-and make-eye-contact or stay-away-from the table-top or don't-get-into-the-trash or please-go-pee or I dunno whatever, dispensing treats often for many things and some things I see improvement but jeez I am physically exhausted.

Tired.

TIRED. And sore.

I keep reminding myself: You knew he'd need work. You know that you'd have to give it at least 6 weeks to figure things out into a calmer life. You knew these things.  I just didn't expect to be working on the things that I'm working on, I guess.

And with all of this, I completely forgot about Chip's class yesterday morning, darn it.