Behavior Modification LVII

Today was another day for a walk, with my good buddy Simon.  Mary had the other three.  Mary, as usual, was almost to the end of the trail where it either turns left to the golf course or continues on out of sight, round a bend.  Simon and I were about 60 feet from the gate at the beginning of the trail.  Simon didn't want to go down the trail today.  He had seen a lady with a large polar bear behind us and wanted to go back.  I tugged, he planted his feet, five minutes later we were still there discussing directions and behaviors, but the lady and the polar bear had disappeared.

I finally got him to walk with a compromise; neither ahead nor behind; instead, we went off the trail and into the field beside the trail.  Simon loves fields because he can suss out burrowing things.  He ran happily for a while, sticking his nose here and there, till he discovered that we had not only been going out but also going down the field and were indeed almost to the end of it.  That was also when two enormous dogs came dashing at him, an experience he hates.  One of them just clipped him, but that was enough .  He quit again.  

By this time I had had it with the treacherous little beast.  I tossed down my cane, picked him up, tucked him under my right shoulder, picked up my cane, and started walking, whispering in his ear, "Would you rather walk or ride, walk or ride?"  Fortunately, after being bounced none too gently for about 30 feet, when I set him down in the grass by the side of the trail, he chose to walk, happily, as if it were what he wanted to do from the beginning.  Problem solved, this time, and he thinks he won, I know he does, for I saw him smirk when I put him down.

Behavior Modification LVI

Guy I know was walking past his love seat, when he saw his little red dachshund lying there.  He stopped, started to sit on the arm of the love seat, missed half of the arm, slid off the arm onto the seat whereupon gravity took over, he slid off the seat and landed on the floor next to his Jack Russell terrier who was lying there.  On the floor he had his back to the footstool that sits there, which the dogs use to climb onto the love seat.  So, feeling foolish my friend gave his JR a belly rub which she adores as if that were his entire reason for dropping down there.  Meanwhile, his little red dachshund had jumped down to the footstool and began chewing and licking his ears.  What an experience my friend had with his creatures.

Behavior Modification LIV

I'm afraid that if I mess with the picture entry, the picture will vanish.  I'm still not sure how I managed to get it from Mary's Facebook page to here.  Surely my accomplishment is a technological wonder.

In any case Mary and I went to Michael and Katie's for brunch around 12:30 p.m.  Their two dogs were wonderfully friendly.  Kipper the lapdog managed to bounce into my lap at one point and even let me love on him a bit; Rascal the very large overly friendly and extremely loveable doggie dog sat next to me so I could scratch his ears and pat his head frequently.  Full of strange dog odors then, I came home and was set upon by my good buddy Simon who is usually too comfortable to bestir himself: "Oh, it's you."  Not today.  I plopped down on the love seat after releasing Schuster, and Simon was there, on my lap, sniffing me from head to toe.  He even got his head stuck between my leg and the seat trying to get at the new smells.  Nice to be an object of interest to him for a change.

Behavior Modification LIII

Before we left for Mass tonight, I carried little Schuster's cage into the living room.  I had trouble opening the door to the cage and happened to notice that little Schuster was patiently standing behind me waiting for me to open it so that he could enter.  This from the little dog who is patient about nothing. Bounce, bounce.

I felt guilty, yet the only reason we "crate" him is that he can't be trusted not to tear the house apart when we aren't here.  He even tears things up when we are here if he knows we aren't looking.  He got a magazine cover again last night.  Or early this morning as he apparently got up this morning before I did.  Lately, he seems to be able to distinguish between that text which will get him in serious trouble and the text that will bring forth only a mild reprimand.  He's so cute!

Well, when we returned from Mass, he bounced in his cage till we got there to release him; once released he dashed out as usual, did a quick turn around to go back for his toy tiger, but then he did a new thing.  He grabbed the toy tiger and brought it to me to play with him.  Delighted I grabbed the tail and gave it a couple of tugs, got it away from him, tossed it across the room.  He chased it and brought it back to me so we could do it again.  Oh joy.  Little Schuster is becoming a real pet in the best sense of the word.

When he is resting on top of the aptly named love seat, and I stop to stroke his soft back, he will even turn over now secure in the knowledge that a belly rub will be forth coming.  Little Schuster!

Behavior Modification LII

Schuster is a swimmer.  Who knew?  On the hiking trail Sunday, Schuey was doing his best to stay with Frollie who was running free when we went down to the water at Silver Creek, just after the bridge.  Frollie was on the far side and coming back to us through the water when she hit a deep spot and had to swim for it.  Meanwhile Schuey was on his lead and thus with us.  The lead is long enough that the two dogs could meet in the middle Of the wide creek. Thus we got to see Schuster and Frollie swimming side by side through the deep part, Schuster with his bright green jacket on, swimming fiercely back to the bank.

At home Schuey tends to stay fairly close to Tio Dexter, the regal beagle.  On the hiking trail it's a different matter.  He struggles against the lead constantly to keep up with Frollie, the Jack Russell terrier.  He is also noisy; he cries piteously from our house to the trail, and frequently sets off the other three so that we arrive at the parking lot in a wave of desperate cacophony, along with squirming, bouncing, and genuine jolly eagerness, announcing our presence: "We're here, folks!"

Good night all, or good morning.

Behavior Modification LI

Ha!  We fixed the little monster two days ago.  We took all four dogs for a very long walk, Schuster pulling on his lead all the way out and all the way back.  He continually tries to catch up with Frollie or Dexter who are not always tethered.  That night, scattered around the living room, four very tired dogs, and no bounce, bounce, bounce at all.

Incidently, Schuster usually sleeps on top of the love seat in the groove between the rigid back and the soft pillow.  He reminds me of Snoopy on top of his dog house, except that Schuster sinks down into the groove, and since he is almost the same color as the love seat, sometimes it is difficult to tell whether or not he's really there.  

Another benefit of his presence up there is that I can stop on my way to the bathroom and pet him from head to tail.  Even with my ruined hands I can tell that he's soft as an eiderdown pillow.  He makes me think he's the kind of dog a hobbit would have if a hobbit would have a dog.  It's the very hairy feet.

Behavior Modification L

We had come home from Michael and Katie's; the kids take pity and feed us, well, fairly often, actually.  I had taken care of some household chores and had just plopped down next to Simon in my big blue recliner, about 5:30 p.m.  Simon and I reclined.  

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

"Go away Schuster; I'm old; I need a nap!"  (I didn't get to bed till 5 am this morning.)  

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

Goofy little dog!  The dogs get their supper at 5:30 pm, usually.  How does he know it's 5:30, supper time?

"I need a nap.  Who's the master here, little dog?"  Ha!  I refused to budge.  Simon and I stayed reclined.  Schuster went away.  I fell gloriously asleep.  For all of 20 minutes, when I more or less felt something (neuropathy!) chewing my fingers.  Chewing my fingers!  I hauled my arm back over the side of the chair.

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

It's 6:10.  He's hungry.  He's insistent.  He's trying to chew Simon's nose.  I got up and fed them, all.

It's not easy being a parent.

Behavior Modification XLIX

Life becomes extremely difficult when one reaches a certain age: that would be the age when one's body no longer functions well, at all.  And yet there are Simon and Schuster, Frollie and Dexter to keep me entertained, though I have noticed that Frollie may almost have reached that age too.  It takes her a while to get up and start walking in the morning, though she seems determined not to let Schuey have all the fun chasing squirrels.  She races out too, barking like a banshee.  Instead of always racing around the rose garden like Dexter and the dachshunds, sometimes she will surreptitiously plant herself on the boardwalk to see if a squirrel will double back.  Sometimes they do.

Since Schuster behaves like a small nuclear disaster when we are away, we still "crate" him.  A year ago he would run and try to hide when we brought the cage out; Mary and I would have to trap him between us.  Now, we bring the cage out, open the door and he either walks or runs in.  We put his chartreuse blanket in there, and a new toy tiger we bought for such occasions.  And he goes peacefully and happily, apparently.  He doesn't even howl before we leave or after; he saves that till we come home.  Then we can hear him from the garage.  "Quick, quick, climb those stairs and open my door!"  And we do, at which point he races out of the cage, dashes around our feet, races back to the cage to grab a tiger, then tears around the house with his tiger by the tail.  Makes coming home truly memorable.   And delightful.

Behavior Modification XLVIII

After that insight, there was nowhere to go, ethically at least.  

Almost every morning, I am awakened by the sounds of little dog feet racing swiftly up and down the hardwood floor of our long hallway.  Schuster!  They can sometimes corner him for a bit, until he does the drop and roll, but the second their attention wavers he is off again.  This morning it was intense.  He usually has a long toy tiger dangling from his mouth, which irritates Frollie all-toys-are-mine.  Since we bought three of them, she is continually frustrated, of course.  This morning Schuster had the thin blanket that like Linus he takes to bed.  

I wearily lifted myself to one elbow and immediately laughed.  Schuster was in the bedroom doorway, dragging this thin chartreuse (thank you Humane Society) blanket into the hall.  Then he ran halfway down the hall, I heard a yelp, and ran back to our bedroom, still dragging the thin chartreuse blanket, apparently unscathed by any bigger dog encounters, and without dropping the blanket, he turned and ran again.  Laughter is truly a delightful way to begin the day.  

And that is the heart and soul of our relationship with Schuster.  No matter how many papers he tears up, no matter how much trouble he causes, he makes us laugh.  

Behavior Modification XLVII

It frequently occurs to me that if I loved people as much as I loved our dogs, I might be a good person.  

Behavior Modification XLVI

First I had trouble getting the website to open; then it opened but wouldn't work.  I couldn't open a page to work on.  But now, here I am, mostly.  We shall see what happens next.

It has been another exciting evening in the neighborhood (well, the backyard garden).  As usual Mary and I were watching "our" telelanovela, La Familia con Suerte, which comes on at midnight.  The story had four minutes to go when Schuster begins his bouncing act: "let me out; I need to pee!"  Bounce.  "Let me out; I need to pee!"  Bounce.  We ignored him a week or so ago till the show got to a commercial.  Then, we went to the kitchen where we found a huge puddle on the mat before the door.  He's just a little dog, after all.

Well, I hit pause, disarmed the defense system, which the moment he hears he races for the kitchen door, barking loudly (at 1:30 in the morning).  By the time he gets to the door, the other 3 dogs have joined him, all barking loudly, of course.  I let them out and they and the racket disappeared into the night.  Frequently, after such an exodus, the barking ceases as they settle down to do their business, or whatever.  The silence didn't last long tonight, however.  Fortunately Mary, closing down the new room off the dining room, heard Schuster letting loose his, "come on guys, I've got a hot scent."  

Mary and I grabbed flashlights, and I my cane and off we went into the night to rescue a baby possum this time.  I told the story but the story disappeared along with the baby possum we rescued from the dogs.  I don't know where the rest of the post went, but I decided to let this half of it remain for posterity.  Save and close.  We'll see.

Behavior Modification XLV

Dogs' minds are fascinating.  Since Schuster can't resist tearing up shoes, magazines, and sometimes books, we put him in a "crate" (a wire cage made for such things) whenever we leave.  At first he would run for the hills when he saw the cage set out, and Mary and I would have to "trap" him between us.  Now we put his toy tiger in the cage and he walks in and hunkers down on his own.  He also doesn't yowl when we leave but the racket he makes when we get home and before we let him out is deafening.  So darn cute.

Simon hurries to sit in my chair when he knows I am bringing my supper to the front room, because I always share with him.  Since I have an armchair "table" on the left arm, as well as a small end table beside the chair there, Simon sits beside me on the right.  No matter how often I get up for refills, Simon stays beside me on the right.  However, once the food is gone, and I get up for a bathroom break, Simon will move to the left side of the chair, which he actually seems to prefer.  Obviously he hasn't taken notes and figured this movement out, nonetheless, he almost always gets it right.  He knows when the move is acceptable.  Should he ever get it wrong, all I have to do is pat the arm on the right side, especially if I am carrying a plate, and he will switch sides.  All things considered these movements are a finely orchestrated creaturely dance which we both have worked out.  Even then there are more aspects involved in the dance than I have described.  I find his behavior fascinating.  That food is involved undoubtedly helps, but no one ever made him do anything.  He somehow understands what is required.  Part of the joy of being owned by dachshunds, I suppose.

Behavior Modification XLIII

Last night while watching Philomena, the excellent Judy Dench movie, I heard a commotion across the room, looked over that way and saw Schuey on the footstool, continually bouncing up and down on his  front feet in front of Frollie who was lying on the floor before the footstool, watching him.  Mary and I laughed delightedly and paused the movie to watch.

I have more to write but the cursor jumps around on the page and into what I have typed before.  Very frustrating!