Chip Training 1

SUMMARY: Sit/stay, come, fetch, release, name.

I was SO tired and sore yesterday after the weekend--what has become of me?--that I wasn't up to training. So we took the day off, rested, and played a bit in the yard.

Today I worked a bit with Chip on a very few things for a total of maybe 15 minutes scattered through the day:

• Release word: I'm using Break, which is what I use for Boost, which is confusing her--when I release him, she also releases. I apparently didn't make the connection for her early on that I need to be addressing her directly for it to apply to her.
• Recall (Come): Using suggestions in Mandy Book's book Quick Clicks to get him wanting to come to me as I have treats. Started with him a foot or so away, show the treat, then wait for him to come get it; click & treat. Repeat a few times. Then stand back another foot or so, repeat a few times. Then put a treat on the floor in front of him, step away about 3 or 4 feet, and click/treat as soon as he turns his head to see where I am, click. Treat when he comes to me. He seemed to like that, although he would periodically get stuck staring and me, wondering what I wanted (so I was moving too quickly along the progression). No command yet.
• Sit/stay: Goal is that "Sit" means "sit until I give you the release word." Using a "forced sit"--hold collar and press on that part of his hips so that he has to sit (without pushing hard in the wrong place, which could hurt or make him resist), along with the Sit command. Step slightly away, praise & treat, step back next to him, praise and treat, release. He actually let me walk all the way around him without him getting up (in the kitchen), progressing quickly within just a very few minutes.
• Fetch: He seems to be bringing the toy voluntarily more and more often, as he realizes that (a) there's no keep-away going to happen and (b) if he brings it, I play with him, which has to be more fun than playing by himself or just standing there waiting for something to happen. I think I might up the ante by click/treat as he makes any move towards me and see whether I can speed this up.
• Respond to name: At random times on today's walk and while in low-stimulation situations here at home, I say his name and reward when he looks at me. He's doing that pretty well, but that's with no distractions whatsoever.

He does like to play tug and is getting more enthused and sure of himself all the time. I'm starting to add a little body/head/face patting as we play--I want him to keep playing and being intense even if there are distractions on his body. This would be helpful for things like weave poles--if he doesn't care that he's up against them with his face, that would be very good. 

Trying to give the other dogs equal time for treats and praise, but am mostly just repeating old tricks rather than trying to increase their repertoire--I'm just not having the energy at the moment to think through things for 3 dogs at a time! But they seem happy.

Chip Trial Day 5 - morning

SUMMARY: Things are going well

Letter to Owner who's asking about him (I love it when my emails can turn into blog posts: Double duty!)

Everything's going very well. He's really a very good dog. He and Boost have played/wrestled together at least once every day, and Tika tolerates him. In my experience, it actually takes a few weeks before all the dogs in the household have settled into their normal personalities and routines, and things look like they're going very nicely in the right direction.

He's paying more and more attention to me, accepting that I'm here and in charge :-). He's not done any marking in the house (that I've seen, anyway, but I think the other dogs would point it out); he's eating happily; I've seen no recurrence of that one time when you were here and he put his paws up on the stove to check it out.

You've done a very nice job with him, really. He's sweet and is doing his best to be friends with all the other dogs. Personality and attitude are the most important things, followed by basic good behavior; training details are so easy to add when the other things are in place.

I've arranged for a crate for him to travel in with me this weekend. We'll probably be sleeping in a hotel unless it gets a lot warmer, in which case we might sleep in my van at the trial site (agility competition); this is how I've always done it with all my dogs, and I see that he's often taking his cues from my dogs, which is very helpful, so I expect that he'll settle down well at night and hopefully get a chance to run around with some other dogs this weekend.

I thank you for letting me have the chance to have him here, and I'd be glad to keep him. Let me know what you're thinking long-term. If he does stay here, you know of course that you and your son are welcome to come see him or take him out for a run or a weekend visit any time; he would love that.

-ellen

Back to training notes. What we worked on this morning:

Fetch

Well, not yet making a concerted effort on bringing toys back. Taking it easy and trying the coaxing thing. Sometimes it works, but not from most of the way across the yard. He'll come to me but leave the toy behind.

Toy Play

We continue to play tug, practice "Give," give it back to him, play tug, etc. He likes tug but is still a little timid with me, I think. He has no problem with me pressing my thumb into his mouth to get him to let go when he doesn't do it immediately.

"Down"

 I'm starting over with this command. First is to get him to go directly to down from a standing position. I'm doing this as Rachel Sanders taught. Hold some really good treats in my fist, fingers down, on the ground between his front feet. Eventually the dog drops to same position as a play bow, and then because that's not completely comfortable, the butt goes down.

I've modified that a bit, after almost 5 minutes where he continually licked my fist (hot dogs, yum!) but didn't go down. Added my short braided leather training leash to his collar and stepped on it so that his head was held partway down to put a little pressure on him. That got him to lower his front end even though it still took a couple of minutes--at least he didn't give up trying to get the hot dogs, so I think those are a winner; I gave a big jackpot and praise and let him up. Repeated, and he was a bit faster going down in the front. But his butt stayed in the air, so the 3rd time I just pressed lightly on his lower back after a minute or so, and down he went.  The next time, pretty fast front end down but after a bit I touched his butt lightly again. The next time, he went down fairly quickly on his own, first front, then back. Final jackpot and crazy praise and that was enough of that for this morning!

I suppose if I'd had more patience that eventually he'd have gone down completely on his own, but I think that he's still essentially making the decision himself, which is what I want: "Oh, this is a good thing for me to do, how clever of me to have figured out how to get hot dogs!"

We'll do that until he's doing it reliably and much faster (I hope--I'd like him to just drop like Boost does rather than settle into it like Tika does), then I'll add the command as he's doing it. [It's important to have a plan in any training, yeh? I don't always do that. I'm happier when I know where I'm going, makes it easier to get there]

Dog door/crate

The dog door is the key to *my* freedom. He obviously has a lot of experience being in his crate for long hours, but i'd rather not do that if I don't have to. Yesterday I was gone for a bit under 4 hours. Tossed some treats into his crate before I left, and he hadn't eaten them when I got him; I'm not sure exactly what that means, but would be better if I could leave him loose like the other dogs.

Owner had said that Chip had gotten out of their yard a couple of times when he was left alone and loose when he was younger, so he didn't give Chip the chance again. Ideally I'd leave for 15 minutes, then half an hour, etc., to see how things go. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that he's liking being part of the dog family here and that that will keep him here. He is also microchipped (I hope to Owner's current phone number), plus I bought a tag for his collar that has my home and cell numbers.

So I started working on training how to use the dog door, rather than waiting for him to figure it out. He has seemed completely disinclined to put his nose on or near the actual flap and seems intimidated by the flap flapping back as the dogs go through.  I started by going to the other side of the door, the other dogs came thru the dog door, and I held the flap wide open. It took a lot of coaxing for him to even come near, and if my hand moved at all, he jumped back. We did that about 6 times over the morning before he wouldn't jump back, but still very cautious approaching the door and going through it. Then I was able to lower it gently onto his backside as he went through so that he'd get used to that feeling.

In total, we've done about 14 trips through the dog door and he's still not showing an inclination to approach it on his own. So it'll be the crate again today; inconvenient because I want to go north to do an evening hike with Sierra Club after work, but I should come back south to let him out again for a bit. 

Hmm.

I wonder whether I can work a deal with my contractor friend (Boost's breeder, actually) who's here painting the kitchen and stuff.
Hmmm hmmmm.

Chip Trial Day 2 evening

SUMMARY: More Chip notes

Fixed my pocket camera. Whew! (Just a bent cover piece that affected the lens cover opening. Thank you, WWW, for having all the answers!)

• Fetch. He almost fetches. Sometimes brings it back partway, sometimes all the way, sometimes not at all. Wants us to chase him, at which point he'll scoop it up (if we take a step towards it). Neither Boost nor I will play that game, however.
• Catching. Doesn't seem to have the idea of catching things--toys, food, whatever. Seems startled that things would actually land on him. More experiments needed. Easy-peasy to teach a dog to catch if he doesn't already do it (in my experience so far).
• Bone. He found an old bone that the dogs had lost interest in. Has been carrying it around and chewing on it delicately off and on. Nice that he's got that. Of course, now that he thinks it's cool, so does Boost (who has paid no attention to it for months).
• Dog door. He so far hasn't shown a clue about how to use the doggie door. I am happy with that at the moment; means that I can keep tabs on him more easily during the times when I let him off leash.  I seem to recall thinking that about Tika and Boost, too, but then after 2 or 3 days, poom!, they figured it out on their own. He watches with amazement as the Merle Girls bip through a solid wall! And is a bit offput by the flap flapping back behind them. I think he'll figure it out eventually.
• Zoomies. Chip got the Zoomies in the yard in a big way after dinner, and I encouraged him by saying go go go! and giving the Play Fingers as he went by. Would be nice to have a dog who could be exercised that way if needed.
• Mouth. He has some mouthiness that I'm not keen on. Grabbed my hand a little more firmly when cleaning his paws this evening. I held his collar and told him firmly No. Later, we were playing with a toy, practicing having him Give it to me and I give it back. Doing pretty good. Then he grabbed my hand once as I took the toy. He got  a collar grab and No on that one, too.  He's not biting, but it is him trying to get the upper hand. Or mouth, whatever. Something to watch.  It's true that he barely knows who I am yet, but that's not something he should do even so.
• Relaxing. After another walk, some playing in the yard, dinner, and a bit more general wandering around, I suddenly realized that all 3 dogs were sacked out on the floor around me, snoozing. Chip is starting to relax, trying out the various dog beds, even closing his eyes for a while. 
  
• Tired Human Mom. I am so, so tired. Other than moving a bunch of things around (including his huge and heavy crate), also standing and sitting and inning and outing and managing 3 dogs on leash for *two* walks today and a whole lot more bending over than usual... emotionally, mentally, physically worn out, and my back is aggravated. I feel that it was all worthwhile, though.  I bought hot dogs this evening but ran out of energy to do more treat-based training.  At this point, everything I do with him I'm evaluating or training even if it's play. It's important that he have fun and enjoy doing things with me. And it's important for him to learn a lot of things that i need him to know. I *do* try to make training = play almost all the time. But it's a higher level of intensity than I've really put out for a while the the dogs. Well, certainly I don't have to train everything all at once. 

New Member

SUMMARY: A brief bio.

I've been a member of The Bay Team since not long after I started agility lessons, without ever really intending to become an active member (ha! we know how that turned out!). I joined SMART when that club formed, although I consider myself more a supporting member. I attend several other clubs' events regularly but never joined; finally decided that I really ought to join more of them both as a sign of general support and to keep up on the news.

So I joined more clubs (aren't we lucky to have so many with members located nearby?). And one asked for a photo and a new member bio. Well, I hardly think I'm new to most of their members, but OK, I'll indulge:

My obedience instructor suggested agility to me as I was running out of other things to try with my smart and energetic rescue Squirrelhünd, Remington (competitive obedience, tracking, tricks). I fell in love with the sport from the instant that I saw the brilliantly colored obstacles on the emerald green lawn with dogs doing unbelievable feats before my very eyes. I signed up for classes at Power Paws Agility (except back then, in 1995, they hadn't come up with that name yet). My instructors finally convinced me to try a competition, and I did, at a mudful NADAC trial in January 1996 in San Martin. And we got some Qs and some ribbons! And you know what happened next: More agility, and more and more and more! I had to keep my day job as a technical writer to pay for the agility entry fees, the agility training, the agility shoes, the agility videos, the agility gear bags, the agility team shirts, the agility canopy, the agility obstacles for the yard, the agility minivan MUTT MVR, and, of course, the agility house Taj Mutthall in San Jose.

I've competed with four very different dogs and we've earned Qs in NADAC, ASCA, CPE, and USDAA. My second dog, Jake the Semidachshund, earned Championships in all four, but now there are so many trials available that I've concentrated on USDAA with some CPE; my third dog, Tika the rescue Craussie, has Championships in both of those. My fourth dog, Boost the nonrescue Border Collie (littermate to locals Bette, Beck, and Derby and Top Ten dog Gina (sibling envy? what sibling envy?))--well, let's say that she loves to do agility, or any other active and interesting job. She particularly excels at bringing in the newspaper every morning so I don't have to step outside no matter the weather.

I've watched the sport and my own skills change. I'm delighted (in retrospect) how I went from huddling in a dark corner many years ago, cursing the dog gods and myself because we couldn't get even the easiest gambles, to thrilling about Tika's position as the #2 Gambling dog in USDAA Performance 22" for the year 2011. Having great instructors and, yes, sigh, practicing really helped with that.

Tika turns 11, Boost turns 7, and I turn [mumblety-mum] at the end of January; and I'm still shaping up my thoughts on what's next for all of us. I know that photography fits in there somewhere, and hiking, and yeah, sure, someday I'll get back to that budding fiction-writing career that I abandoned 16 years ago for the slings and arrows of dogwalk contacts.

I blog about all this at TajMutthall.org.

Get the Leo!

 SUMMARY: Useful tricks.

I'm liking this "get it" thing. The more things I think to teach my dog to get, the more their little furminds grok the concept of "woman want me bring sumthing. me find something bring."

This is not too hard for Boost, but challenging for Tika who really gets the concept of picking something up but tends to drop it immediately and come to me for a reward. Getting it to me might take several iterations of pick it up, drop it one foot closer, pick it up, drop it one foot closer, etc.

Boost does "get the newspaper" every morning and she hardly ever stops to tear the plastic bag apart in the driveway anymore, except saturday when there were free samples of Honey Fiber Oat Sugar Pretend Healthy Cereal and a granola bar entombed in the bag as well. I had to go out and stand two inches from the paper and say "get the newspaper!" which was a lot more work than just getting it myself, but it was an entertaining situation and not actually raining at that moment, so it was OK.

"Get the xxxx" comes in useful when a dog-related entertainment product ("toy") needs to be retrieved from wayyyy under a table so I can vacuum.

They both "get your dish!" at mealtime most meals these days. The usual routine is (and all of this takes about 20 seconds combined and is mostly going on simultaneously):

1. Boost runs into the kitchen where the dishes [usually] are. 
2. Tika runs into the kitchen. 
3. Boost gets excited watching Tika grab a dish,  and runs out to the deck where I'm waiting, to be able to watch Tika come through the door.
4. Tika brings her dish to the other side of the doggie door, drops it, and comes out without it. 
5. Meanwhile I tell Boost "get your dish!" again, and she barks once, runs into the kitchen, gets her dish, and either (a) brings it to the doggie door, drops it, hops through, and sticks her head back through to get it, (b) brings it through the doggie door and drops it at a full run so it rolls or bounces off somewhere random, or (c) brings it right to me, drops it at my feet, and if I don't IMMEDIATELY THIS MINUTE pick it up and fill it with food, she immediately picks it up and throws it at my feet, loudly. 
6. Meanwhile, I've been telling Tika again, "Get your dish!", and she whines and yelps and spins and goes through the dog door and back out and then when i tell her AGAIn, she goes in, runs into the kitchen (but the bowl isn't there because she dropped it by the dog door), she runs back out, where I tell her for the 12th time, "TEEEEEka, GET. YOUR. DISH!"
7. Whereupon Boost thinks, "oh,  fer cryin'... gah..." leaps through the dog door, grabs Tika's dish,  brings it out, throws it at my feet, and Tika grabs it, drops it immediately back at my feet, and looks at the food bin expectantly, mission having been accomplished as requested.

Sometimes actually everyone does everything right the first time, with only a little bit of yapping and spinning and "GET YOUR DISH" repeatology.

Anyway, then  I often, using the food from the dishes, fill up their Buster Cubes or their Leos. (Turquoise and blue tubular things center bottom:)

Leos are quieter than Buster Cubes, so I mostly use them now.

There's a routine to this, too:

1. I say to the dogs, "Oooh, a Leo!" and like that, several times while filling them. 
2. Tika gets her Leo in the dining room where the floor heater vent is covered to prevent food from dropping into the ductwork and the dogs pawing at the heater vent for the next 2 months. I say, "Here's your Leo!"
3. Boost gets hers in the office. I say, "Here's Boost's Leo!" All of this verbiage is to try to put a name to the object.
4. When Tika's stops rapidly dispensing treats, she takes it out to the back lawn, finishes it, and leaves it there.
5. Boost leaves hers wherever it was in the office when she got the last bits out.

Sometimes they vanish. I also bought a purple one later "as an emergency backup" (but really because it was purple).  So one day last week I couldn't find the blue one. This should not be so hard; the office is not  that big and it's downstairs from the rest of the house, so it's not likely to roll upstairs. Sure, there are a couple of boxes and furnitures, but I looked everywhere. The renter even came down and helped me look. Nowhere to be found.

So I used the purple emergency backup Leo. That worked for a couple of days, then the next time I went looking for it, there was the blue one in the middle of the floor but the purple one was nowhere to be found. (And believe me, I looked, as it was now obvious that it had to be here SOMEWHERE nearby.) Nothing.

The next day I came looking, and the blue AND purple ones were lying in the middle of the floor.

But that's not what I came here to tell you about.

This morning it was literally freezing outside at breakfast time. I was still in my bathrobe. Yard is still wet from last week's rain. Tika's turquoise Leo is sitting out in the middle of the back lawn. We have already achieved "Get your dish!" with a minimum of brouhaha. So, what the heck, I grab Tika's collar, point her at the deck stairs, and say "Get the Leo!" She runs down the stairs, looks around (there were no other dog-related entertainment products in sight, which helped),  spies the Leo in the lawn, run to it, grabs it, and brings it all the way back up to me without dropping it or being reminded even once!

That is SO COOL!

Now if only they were ready for the "get my AT&T Uverse network password which I put somewhere safe last month, but not sure where that might be! GET IT!"

Whether the Weather is Fair or--

SUMMARY: Whether the weather is not--

Whether the weather is cold or whether the weather is hot,
Whether the weather is fair or whether the weather is not,
Whatever the weather, we weather the weather, whether we like it or not.
(Anonymous?)

(Great, now NEITHER spelling of weather/whether looks right any more! At least it doesn't throw in wether to really snarl my brain.)

The situation right now per radar on Accuweather.com (which has an "animate" button so you can see the rain as it moves). I have this window up all the time in foul weather. Where I am: About halfway between the dot representing San Jose and the grid line below it. (The color scale at the bottom tells heaviness of rain.) It's moving eastward and I'm about to be hit by another heavy mass of water falling from sky. In addition, wind has been howling--gusts up to 50 MPH (80 KPH) they say (I've seen only 30 so far). And coldish--mid-40s (4.5-ish C).

According to Weatherbug, my part of town has had 2" (5cm) of rain already today. (Not sure what their "today" is.) I love weatherbug because they provide lots more info when you go digging around PLUS they use all kinds of independent tracking stations, so you can pick the exact one you want to use. Or you can set up your own and get connected! (Detailed instructions on what equipment you need is somewhere on the site--it's not cheap stuff but not out of the realm of normal people.)

It's weather like this in which I REALLY REALLY love having a Border Collie who will run out to the end of the driveway and bring in my newspaper. Works great as long as she doesn't pick it up by the wrong end of the plastic bag so the paper falls out. So far this week she's done a fine job. My hero! Won't go out back to potty until desperate, but will go get the paper. Whatta girl!

Waiting for a break--it'll come eventually--to take the Merle Girls out for a walk at least. Thinking we're all going to be out of condition for this weekend's trial.

Meantime, I must start going through list of roofers to try to figure out why a doorframe is leaking that shouldn't be leaking. Curse you, Red Weather.

Rain. And Phone Books.

SUMMARY: Boost does some surprising fetching and is surprised by water from the sky.

It last rained in San Jose on March 15. Yesterday's forecast called for rain last night and this morning. An agility friend posted on her web site, "I wonder what rain feels like?" Anticipation lay low, humming, in the background of all conversations in the valley. Rain. At last.

Every morning, Boost fetches the newspaper for me from the driveway. Today, she woke me at 5:30 demanding to go out (drat, are we not over this yet? And it was going so well--). The ground was dry. Another wet forecast turning out to be all wet?

Since I was getting up at 6:00 anyway to go for an early hiking adventure, I opened the front door to see whether the paper yet sat in its plastic rain-bag at the end of my driveway. Nothing was there. But Boost burst past me, down the sidewalk, and skidded to a halt next to a dark, hulking, plastic-wrapped shape near the roses, and began to work at grabbing it. --What on earth--?

I walked out to the sidewalk, and discovered that the Phonebook Fairy had left the new phonebook for me, carelessly wrapped in plastic so that one end was protected from potential rain but the other end lay completely exposed. And dry. Boost was wrestling enthusiastically, trying to find some pages to grab, as the whole thing was, shall i say, a wee bit larger than even the usual Sunday-supplemented Saturday paper. I hurriedly aligned the phone book with the spine towards her, to prevent having the entire M section ripped out with a too-effusive effort to Get That Newspaper.

I didn't think she could actually manage it, but with several bits of assistance and several drops and re-pick-ups, she managed to get that whole huge thing into the house and deliver it to where she always delivers the paper. Quite an entertainment for her mom early in the morning.

As I gave her some thanks-for-fetching treats, the sky opened. How grateful was I now for being wakened early and also having the dog run out the front door without permission? Had she done neither of those things, I'd now have a sopping wet gigantic blob of former phonebook.

A few minutes later, Tika put up a big racket about Something Dangerous In The Front Yard. I peered out the door, and sure enough, the paper itself had arrived. So I fetched Boost, lined her up, said, "Ready....Get The Paper!" and released her. She blasted down the steps to the sidewalk--and skidded to a halt. She jerked her head and body left and right. She ran to one side. She stepped back. She looked at the roses like she might be about to spook. She started to wuff a "Danger! Unknown danger!" wuff, when I realized what was happening: She hadn't been rained on in 7 and a half months.

So I had to run out into the rain to reassure her, run with her down to the paper at the end of the driveway, and then follow her as quickly as I could as she dashed back inside, plastic-bagged paper grasped firmly in her jaws. OK, so now **I'M** wet, but at least the phone book is dry.


(I'll try to get my hike photos up soon. No dogs this time, though.)

A Fetching Story

SUMMARY: Dogs who provide a return on investment.

Is one never satisfied? Remington, a brilliant trick dog, wasn’t keen on “fetch.” I loved teaching him but ached for a fetcher. Then came Jake who, in his first hour with us, found each of the hundred balls abandoned by Rem. And—for the next 10 years—he dropped them at my feet, over and over. I wished for a dog less fanatical. Now there’s Tika, who chases but doesn’t pick up. And Boost, who picks up but requires a personal invitation to bring it. Oh, for Jake again! The fetch is always greener on the other side of the grass--

Ministory written in response to a challenge to write a story in exactly 99 words.

Sad About Jake

SUMMARY: Fair warning, this is a being-sad-about-Jake post.

I've said that I have no regrets with Jake, that I did a lot with him and we had a good time. But it turns out, of course, that I do have regrets. Most are really very small.

• Last time I was at the pet store, I bought 3 lovely big bones for the dogs to gnaw on. But was waiting for a special occasion to give them to them.
• I've been spending all this time learning how to do better dog photography and taking posed photos of all kinds of other people's dogs but short of the adequate photo (shown in the sidebar to the right), I have no really beautiful photos of him.
• I wish I had played in the living room with him more when he refused to play outside, even though I still had to talk him into it lately.
• I should have taken him for a walk that last Sunday; it's what we've been doing for together-time without the young dogs lately. But at least I did so Saturday before I knew.
• If only I had gotten him his special bed for next to my desk sooner. I'd been thinking about it for almost two years, and only bought it a month and a half ago.
• I wish I had hugged and snuggled him more on Saturday.

Aside from regrets, there's simply the dismantling of my three-dog life. Every piece I change or tuck away adds a stone to the weight I've swallowed.

• Jake always gets fed first. Bowl is now washed and put away. At mealtime, need to stop coming to a stop where I always set his food bowl down. As I walk through that spot, I feel as if I'm trying to walk through a wall.
• Jake was my walking companion when I couldn't deal with Tika and/or the puppy. Which was often. Now it's walk by myself or deal.
• Take down, clean, and edit the Emergency signs in the windows to say that there are 2 dogs in the house. Not 3.
• The dog waking up next to me in bed isn't Jake, but I keep thinking it is when I first become conscious. It's still jarring.
• Absolutely no water splortches on the floor around the water bowl. Jake had a graduate degree in splortching everywhere after every drink. I cursed it for years, but now how lonely that clean, dry floor feels.
• In the car, no dog in the seat behind me. Put away the seatbelt harness and special mat.
• In fact, I don't even need to have that seat there any more. Will be much more convenient and spacious when I'm sleeping out in my van, as I will be for the next two weekends. And how many boulders grew in my stomach with every step of dismantling.
• No need for the old-dog steps going up to the passenger side of my bed. Don't know where I'm going to store them.
• Put away the 3rd leash and bags-on-board dispenser. I just bought those in November after his last leash disappeared on the way home from scottsdale.
• No need at the trial for 3 crates, 3 mats, 3 water buckets, three bags of food, three bowls, Jake's special toy, Jake's jacket for cold mornings for the little old guy. Guess I'm glad I didn't spend the money to fix that zipper on Jake's crate. I wonder if I could go back to just one x-pen for the merle girls?
• Jake was so much fun to play fetch with. He always chased it, he always brought it back, he always dropped it at your feet and looked up at you with the most delighted tail wag, and would pick it up and drop it repeatedly with the same wag and cheerful look if you didn't figure it out the first time. Tika doesn't always bring it back. She certainly doesn't let go of it without convincing. And even when she wants you to throw it, it's not the same cheeriness. Boost brings it back if she thinks Tika won't, but she doesn't always bring it right to you. And she stares at the toy or at Tika, not at you. No tail wag. It's an obsession, not a game.
• And I could exercise all three dogs by exercising Jake, because he'd run and run and run and the other dogs would go out and back with him, over and over.
• The bathmat is now always empty when I step out of the shower, no little red dog curled up asleep waiting for his mom.

Just Some Photos

SUMMARY: Have camera, will shoot.

Jake returns from a fetch with his Tug'N'Treat. This is two days in a row he asked to play. But this morning we went for a walk first, which was ALWAYS how we did it all the years I've had him until the knee really acted up last year, so the walks dribbled away. So now, all is right with the world and it's fitting a proper to Fetch.

Usually, however, Tika has abandoned her own toy for the joy of proving that she can always get to Jake's toy before he does (then either scooping it up and carrying it 5 to 10 feet then dropping, or simply barking twice, "Beat you!"). In this case, Jake almost always returns with an escort tender as seen here. Boost would never get away with any of this with Jake.

Boost's idea of playing fetch while Jake and/or Tika go after their toys: Doing an outrun full speed across the yard to be ahead of them as I start to throw the toy, then racing back to me to watch them fixedly in the likely chance that either of them will move rapidly again. I'm realizing that this is probably why she never wanted to go around front of the goats in her herding test--she was expecting them to take off full speed after a tennis ball.

Meanwhile--It's a pencil eraser! It's a shoe polisher! These nifty slip-on shoes that have become so popular are wonderful for me. I can pull them on and off in an instant to, say, wash off mud, they're comfortable, I can do moderate agility in the yard or yard work in them. I knew that my first pair, these ash-gray ones, had become gradually more soiled and discolored ("ash gray," she says? Hmmm--), but I didn't realize how much so until I just bought a second pair (not shown). Then I went looking for ways to clean suede shoes. Found this on ehow.com, used a large pencil eraser (the pointed kind that you push on the end) for about 15 minutes on one of these--what a difference!

Here's a funny lemon from my tree next to a regular (but smallish) one like all the others on my tree. Have been told it's a worm of some kind. There's actually a type of citrus that does this all the time but even more so, the Buddha's hand citron. What's really funny, though, is how my camera interpreted the bright yellow against my greenish teal dogwalk. Bright blue?!

Notes

SUMMARY: Just thinking.

• It's been SO dry here this winter. Not just in terms of rain (which we're quite low on), but the air. My fingers have been cracking since December. I use moisturizing hand lotion all the time. But I wash my hands so often, too, with being out with the dogs and (the last week or so) a cold and doing stuff in the yard, it's hard to keep up. Now my lips are chapping, my whole face is flaking. I think I'm starting to go hoarse--cold/cough or dry air? Ack.
• The lilac bush is going going...hopefully soon gone! Blog commenters are good at making me put my money where my mouth is. I offered it on Freecycle.org, thinking that no one could really possibly want an 8' tall/wide shrub, but I was swamped with replies. This is apparently the ideal time to remove it. So after 5 years in this house, it's finally going^*. But this means I'm having to dig up all the plants around it that I want to keep and move elsehwere. This is why I found/bought/stole/created dozens of pots and potting soil all summer, to do this, and then it just seemed like SO much work. But with shovels impending, I've made good progress today (yessss---less billable work again) and hopefully can finish tomorrow.
• Tip for the brain dead: When you're lifting something really heavy and you're out of condition and you want to set it on a platform (read "agility table") that's next to you, turn, don't twist at the waist. Owwwies. I knew that. OK, now I have a sore back muscle on one side. Hope it doesn't stiffen up before the weekend.
• For 2 days straight, Jake wouldn't play fetch no matter what I tried. Would finally go and get the toy and then skirt around me at the edges of the yard to dart back into the house. Yesterday he was coaxable, but I had to coax a lot. Then he fetched forever. Today I wasn't in the mood for coaxing, and he lay on the deck watching me toss a toy for the others for about 20 minutes between uprooting irises and narcissi, then he came down and asked me to to play fetch! I was thrilled. Did it a long time, too, like yesterday. Sucks getting old.
• My mom's closest cousin--my clever, funny, "aunt"--has been writing incoherent letters from her home in New York. Senility/alzheimers/whatever is setting in big time. I think that's the curse & the fear of the woodward family women: Live a long life with your body and a shorter one with your mind. It's scary. My mom's doing good so far but we all know from her stories of her grandmother and from the way her mom deteriorated that we all could be next in line...and now the cousin... Argh even more. I'll just assume that doing agility will preserve my mind forever. Or, the way I sometimes run courses, no one will know the difference anyway. That's probably a better strategy--just be incomprehensible all the time so you and everyone else just get used to it.

^*Oops, that would be an unclear pronoun reference. The lilac shrub has not, in fact, EVER been in this house to my knowledge, but *I* have been.

Knee Surgery Is Done

SUMMARY: The last 24 hours--or less--

Tuesday evening, 7:00: Meet with my friend Karey, who is quite the knee-surgery veteran, to borrow her automated knee-icing machine (some inventions are truly mahvelous--and simple--and I'd have never imagined such a thing if she hadn't mentioned it earlier and offered to let me borrow it). She throws in a dinner of Thanksgiving "leftovers", which turn out to be a really lovely casserole made with layers of turkey and broccoli and potatos, smothered in cheese and baked. VERY tasty. Would never have known they were leftovers (which are supposed to be eaten out of tupperware containers and barely warmed over). Karey and Dan have lots of helpful hints.

My three dogs mingle with their three dogs with various levels of enthusiasm or antipathy. Inyo the retired Terv (well,OK, he hasn't retired from Tervhood) mostly hung out in the background, except when he came by periodically to show that he still remembers how to do the Shake and High 5 that I started teaching him while waiting for agility class Lo those many years ago. I just happen to have treats in my pocket for just such dog-behavior emergencies. He's not entirely convinced at first that a piece of puppy kibble is really what one would call a treat, but he eventually accepts it and periodically comes back for more.

The other dogs think this is a good idea and pretty soon I have thousands of dogs doing rights and lefts upon various commands (mostly rights and lefts but not guaranteed to match with what action the dogs actually take).

I am very stressed about the surgery although I know that there's no real reason to be. My knee, contrarily, is feeling absolutely wonderful and isn't swollen at all. Except for that catching thing that it started last week, which is happening more and more and more, to the point where I think that I don't even really want to walk, to avoid the chance that I might have to endure another of those sharp sudden spikes of pain. I will be very happy if the doctor can fix that. And whatever else needs fixing.

I head home after 10:00, picking up tons of ice for the ice machine on the way home. I decide that I'm too tired to start getting everything prepped for Surgery Day and crawl into bed with my security electric mattress pad (like a security blanket, only warmer) and then read for a while--everyone dies, makes me feel particularly encouraged), then fall asleep sometime after midnight.

Wednesday, 6:00 a.m.: I'm awake. Why why why? I lie in bed quietly for a while, checking to see whether maybe I have some sleep molecules left to take me away again. No such luck. Get up around 6:30.

I've had Boost back in her crate the last 2 nights, after not bothering most of the time for a few weeks. Of course she likes being on the bed because the other dogs are there, but she has to take the middle position to avoid the other 2 dogs, who hold down the two far corners of the bed. Which means that, as she adjusts her position or rolls over during the night, she always rolls over in my direction rather than towards the other dogs, which means that when *I* roll over, suddenly there's a dog where I want to be. So I jab my knees into where I want to put them, which makes Boost jump up, and then usually she jumps off the bed and wanders aimlessly around the room, which makes me nervous, so then I have to insist that she come back onto the bed and get her settled into position again in the middle of the bed. Repeat a couple of hours later.

So two nights ago I was just too tired and stressy to deal with that, so I suggested that she get into her crate (where she has slept most of the previous 18 months) and zipped her in. I think we both slept much better that way.

Wednesday, 7:00 a.m.: Boost fetches the newspaper for me from the end of the driveway. But--dang--I'm not allowed to have any food or drink, not even sips of water or mints or anything--after midnight before the surgery, so no reading the paper with breakfast! What ever shall I do?

I shall go through my to-do list to prep for my anticipated restrictions after surgery:

• Finish laundry and haul most of it back upstairs to my bedroom.
• Clear the boxes of xmas ornaments out of the hallway and off to one side in the living room. At least the tree is set up and has lights on it.
• Put away all the random stuff sitting around in the kitchen and various other places that might be in the way.
• Set up a "nest" in the living room, which is on the same level as the kitchen (bathroom & office are down 5 steps; bedroom is up 12), with laptop computer, books, crossword puzzles, lightweight down comforter, extra pillow, stuff like that.
• Make sure I've moved plenty of cold drinks from the garage (down 5 steps) into the fridge.

Also assembled everything I need to take with me, or imagine I might need, if I end up having to wait a long time ahead of time in the waiting room or a long time afterwards in the recovery room. Plus I want to be prepared for blogging!

• Notepad and paper, pens, digital snapshot camera.
• Novel I'm in the process of reading; crossword puzzle book.
• Kaiser card and photo ID, and $20 just in case--I don't know, but just in case anyway.
• Glasses case for my glasses and inhaler for my occasional lightweight asthma, requested by Kaiser that I bring with me.
• Crutches.
• Icing machine.

Mom and Dad's Chauffeur Service dropping me off in the morning.

I'm now fully IDed.

Self-portrait with cute little surgical cap and gown.

9:15 a.m.: I am showered, packed, dressed "in loose-fitting, comfortable clothing, no jewelery", and parents are here to pick me up right on the dot. My check-in time is 9:45 and it's only a 15 minute drive there, usually.

9:30 a.m.: Mom and I go in while Dad parks the car. No line at the check-in, so I register and sit down. They call me in to get started before Dad has even reappeared from the parking lot. They go over a lot of the same questions that they asked me in pre-Op (hearing aid? diabetes? allergies to meds? screaming panic attacks at the sight of doctors in cute little surgical caps? etc.).

10:00 a.m. (est; I'm not wearing my watch): I'm on a bed in the pre-op area, dressed only in my undies, one of those nice cloth gowns that tie in back, a cute little surgical cap for my hair, two disposable surgical booties, and one sock. They bring in all my stuff and send my parents home. They guess that I'll be done and ready to go home probably before 1:00.

Nurse has trouble getting the vein in the back of my hand to straighten out for the IV connector. She explains kindly what she's doing and why, apologizing repeatedly for the pain. I ask her whether most patients eventually give in to the torture and tell where the treasure is buried. She laughs and says she's never heard that line before. Maybe she's just being polite.

My doctor, Mr. Automata in our intial meeting, breezes in with a cheery and human-looking smile. We converse briefly about the right knee being the right knee, or the correct knee being the correct knee. He sent me email yesterday in response to a question of mine, saying "I'm looking forward to tomorrow." All of this is confirming that people go to medical school primarily for the joy of being able to legally poke other people repeatedly with sharp objects. When I mention his message, he says he always looks forward to the chance to make people's pain go away. It's a good line. Would probably hold up in court.

The nurse finishes pinning both the back and the front of my left handage and brisks herself away in search of substances to inject into the tubes and thereby into my circulatory system.

The anaesthesiologist, a very nice man, comes by and we have a brief discussion about the right leg being the right leg, etc., and then progress to a longer discussion about epidural (spinal) numbing or general anaesthesia. I really don't want to do the latter. It's scary, because you lose control of your body and your ability to respond to what it's telling you and so on. The doctor tells me that he has the same reaction, hates losing that mental control, but when he's had surgery, he had general, and he strongly recommends that for a variety of reasons. Epidural has small but slight risk of damaging nerves. More painful before and after. Recovery can take hours. More side effects likely. Sure, it's a commonly used procedure where they want the patient to be aware, as in birth deliveries, but they don't often use it there for knee surgery. General has its risks, too, but I'm a very low risk patient and he has no reservations at all about recommending the general for me. He gradually convinces me. He says that it's a bit of a phobia, wanting to avoid that general anaesthesia, and he'll give me something nice IV (valium-equivalent) to help me feel better about the decision. And about the surgery. And about life, the universe, and everything.

They are kind enough to have me read and sign all the various releases and disclaimers BEFORE they give me the "what-the-heck-life-is-beautiful" drug. I've had no time at all in which I needed to have novels or crossword puzzle books, although I do manage to snap a couple of photos (and nurse takes photo of me in the bed).

10:30 a.m., more or less: I feel great! A little distanced from the world, but just hunky-dory happy, calm, and peaceful. Everything's going to be just fine, yessirree. They wheel me into the operating room and I wiggle myself from the card onto the table with a little guidance. Dozens of people are bustling around doing whatever it is that people bustle around doing in operating rooms. Maybe if I ever watched TV (ER?) I'd know.

In the recovery room. With cap off.

Recovery room. Is it me or the camera that's a little wee bit skewed at the moment?

Apparently one of the things they do while bustling around is wrap my leg in surgical gauze and ace bandages, because I'm now lying there in the recovery room, opening my eyes (when did they close?), with my knee all bundled up. I suppose that some of the bustling also involved surgery, but you couldn't tell by me. I feel just the same as I did 30 subjective seconds ago while I was moving onto the table in the operating room--awake, comfortable, calm. The clock says, I think--

Blood-oxygen monitor. No sharp pointy things involved.

Post-surgery meal: Bread and water.

Noon-ish? Various very nice people ask how I'm doing, feed me some Vicodin, water, and graham crackers, call my parents, check my various status indicators, read me my instructions for the next few days, have me sign a release stating that I acknowledge still being alive after the surgery, and so on. Dad is there before they're even done with all that, and I get into my clothing and take a couple of steps into the wheelchair (so I didn't need the snacks I packed, the novel, the crutches, or the ice machine--I'll put that on at home). They wheel me out to the curb, dad drives me home and settles me in.

At home now--my view from my sofa nest. Finished putting lights on yesterday. Decorations are still in boxes.

You can see my three loving guard dogs hanging around my sofa nest (Jake left, Tika bottom, Boost by tree), and some boxes of tree decor, just waiting.

The icing machine. Looks like a cooler--well, I guess it is, with a motor and a hose and a thing that wraps around my leg and conveys ice-cold water automagically.

My sofa nest.

1:45ish Dad is gone, I'm here in my couch nest, the ice machine running. The surgical dressing is so thick that I can barely feel any coolness, but I'll just leave it on, letting it do its job. Leg feels fine, but the instruction sheet says "marcaine (a type of pain medication) was placed in your knee after the surgery, which will significantly reduce your discomfort during he first night. When this wears off, you may feel increased discomfort." Something to look forward to. And to discover whether "increased discomfort" is a euphemism for "bring on the morphine now, by the truckload please."

I feel no nausea, maybe a teeny bit of light headedness when standing (but that could've been from lack of food, too), and right now I'm feeling a teeny bit headachey (could be from lack of food, lack of sleep, aftereffects of anaesthesia, or just random headachability.

I think I'll have more food, see whether I can xfer this to my real computer to post on my blog, and maybe take a nap.