the dog

Autumnal Saturday

The Dog digs. And digs and digs and digs. She digs everywhere. We’ve discovered that staw keeps her from digging up an area again.

Soon, our whole yard will be covered with straw, I fear…

Monday Evening Walk

Our schedule has calmed down significantly: no longer do we have something each and every evening. Soccer — done. Volleyball — done. We’ve decided, as a result of having so much free time (relatively speaking), to make Monday evenings (and possibly Tuesday nights, but not this week — that frantic pace has ripples that spill over to this week) family walk evenings. So today, after dinner, we took the dog and headed to Conestee Park, our favorite local park.

E and I rode our bikes there yesterday, almost achieving our goal of riding on every bit of trail and/or road (a total of 10.2 km), and we discovered a couple of new trails that we thought we’d introduce the girls to.

The kids took turns with the dog, each handling her for a quarter of a mile (thanks, Fitbit).

And we got a chance to get a family portrait, albeit divided into two stages: the Boy wanted the camera and decided we didn’t have enough pictures of me, so he made me pose.

Finally, he wanted one of K and me. “You need to stand there and kiss.”

Lake Jocassee, Day 2

The Boy and I began the second day with a walk while the girls took the kayak out for a spin. We followed various paths and made a couple of discoveries. First, there was a playground nearby. We never used it again. Second, there was an amazingly small beach just down the shore from the tent camping sites that promised a much lovelier swimming experience than the large public beach.

After lunch, we all headed to the beach, hoping to get the dog further into the water. K had the brilliant idea of simply holding Clover and walking her out to a deeper part of the lake. She stood there with the dog, constantly reassuring her that everything was okay, and then let her swim back to the shore. That seemed to be all it took because she was generally fine with the water after that. Generally.

In the afternoon, the Boy and I headed out in the canoe, where we made a second discovery: a large rock protruding from the shore was just on the other side of the campground.

In the evening we checked out the two discoveries with the girls. Everyone declared that we must never go back to the public beach again, and the Boy declared that the large rock would be a perfect spot for fishing. The large crowd of teenagers determined it was the perfect spot for tomfoolery, but that’s what teens do.

Lake Jocassee, Day 1

There’s a part of me that really doesn’t like camping. I don’t know if it’s the looming inconveniences (what if I can’t sleep? what if we get a huge rainstorm that floods everything?) or the drudgery of setting up camp and then breaking it back down — I just don’t like it in a way. If I truly felt that way, I guess I’d still go camping with my family because they all enjoy it so much, but the truth of the matter is, I don’t feel that way. Well, at times I’m a little frustrated with the whole process of breaking down a campsite, especially after it’s rained. It’s even worse if things are still wet and we have to pack them nonetheless.

But even that is only a mild convenience, and it doesn’t even figure into the joy of the start of a camping trip when the equipment is all set up and clean.

This weekend, we camped at Lake Jocassee for the first time. We’ve been there a time or two — probably only once, now that I think about it — just on day trips, but this was a four-day, three-night camping trip to end the summer. It was supposed to be to begin the summer: our reservation was originally for Memorial Day, but the weather didn’t cooperate. This timing was much better, though: a last hurrah before the start of the school year.

This trip introduced a novel element, though, an element that both K and I were worried about: we brought the dog. She’s not a calm dog; when she gets excited, she’s still not an obedient dog; when she’s around new people and places, she gets very hyper — together, these three facts made us wonder whether we might end up regretting it.

“The dog will be on-leash the whole time,” we told the kids. “Make sure the dog does not get off leash ever,” we repeated. I had visions Clover running around the campground, jumping on people, knocking down unsuspecting children, lawsuits piling up if she got off-leash.

In short, I was a pessimist about the whole thing. “If push comes to shove, we’re only an hour and change away from home. I’ll just take her home if she’s crazy,” I told K. We agreed that it was a sound plan.

We’d planned on renting a tandem kayak for the weekend, and we thought we’d always be split up: one person with one child, the other with the other child (who would be cranky about not being on the kayak) and the dog, which in truth I feared would be more burdensome than then cranky child. It turned out that no one was cranky about being left behind and the dog was — well, more on that later.

And so we arrived on Saturday morning, set up the tent, and went swimming in the cool water of Lake Jocassee. We took the dog with us, and she was predictably terrified of water. It’s what’s made bathing her such a chore that we rarely do it. Things were different this time. L spent last week at K9 Cadet camp with Clover, and one of the things she learned was that you can’t give into a dog’s initial fear of water.

“Just correct her and tell her to come to you,” L explained. And it worked: the dog came out to the belly-deep water where we were standing and awaited further instruction.

“Sometimes that dog’s obedience shocks me,” I thought.

Deciding that was enough for an initial exposure, I stayed with the dog for most of the remaining swim time, alternating between sitting with her and having her walk along the shore in shallow water.

We went back to the tent, fixed dinner, and went to bed early, finishing up the evening with a bit of in-tent gaming.

The kids played Super Farmer with K. The game is odd: a Polish game (at least we got it in Poland and K remembered playing it most of her life) that involves building a farm by rolling dice and getting farm animals. You trade up: x bunnies can trade for y sheep and so on. Until you roll a fox or a wolf, which wipes you out partially or entirely.

The Boy was getting frustrated with losing all his hard-earned gains to wild predators, so they all agreed to play without the dangerous animals.

If only we could play life like that. Of course, we could — it’s not that difficult. All we have to do is agree to play by the same rules and we’d have no foxes or wolves to worry about. K and I talked about that that first evening, looking out at Lake Jocasssee, a man-made lake that is the same age as I. “We can make lakes and send people to the moon, but we can’t get along.”

And while there are some down sides to camping, one of the great up-sides is this: it attracts like-minded people. You don’t find many wolves in campgrounds; you don’t find many overly-materialistic people setting up tents; you don’t find superficial outlooks among the campers. So perhaps that’s some progress.

Getting Ready

We’ll be going on an end-of-summer camping trip this weekend, though it will be a little different from any other trip. Well, a lot different: the dog is coming along, too.

Guest

Clover began barking aggressively around eight this morning.

She rarely barks, and when she does, it’s not an aggressive bark.

The cause: a visitor — a sweet huskie named Phoenix with a calm demeanor and a tag with a phone number and an email address.

The owner was out of town; someone was supposed to be stopping by to feed Phoenix.

We kept him in our backyard until early afternoon.

Clover was not at all happy about it at first. She was terrified for a good half hour. We kept them apart with leashes during that time, then decided it might be a good idea to take them for a walk together. By the time we got back home, Clover was no longer scared. Indeed — she just wanted to play herding with Phoenix, who was not too eager to take the role of a sheep.

Herding

We took Clover for her first intermediate-level training session tonight. I was a little worried about it: we’ve been neglecting her training, and I thought for the first few minutes that the Dog might not be up to par with the other students in terms of obedience. Once she calmed down a bit though — she’s always so excited around new dogs — she did just fine.

The trainer, who was a different young lady from the trainer who led us through the beginner training, mentioned that she used to train Border Collies almost exclusively. K and I looked at each other, knowing exactly what the other was thinking.

After class, we asked her about some of Clover’s issues, specifically her continued nipping. She explained that we needed to provide her with a way to exercise that instinct — she is a herding breed, after all — in play and not with us. She suggested using a yoga ball. “It’s too big for her to get her mouth around, so she can’t pop it. But it’s big enough that she can nose it around, which is what she needs.”

L just happens to have a yoga ball. It’s now Clover’s.

In short, she went wild. She pushed that silly ball all over the backyard, nipping at it, herding it.

Training Day 2

This evening we took the dog for her second group training session. After last week’s fiasco, I was a little nervous about the whole thing: Would she regress? Would she act like she’d made no progress at all? We walked in and everyone immediately recognized us. They might not have been saying it, but they were thinking, “Oh, they’re the ones with the dog that went completely berserk last week.”

The other clients weren’t the only ones who paid attention to our arrival: Sandy, the instructor, walked in and went straight to Clover, loving on her a bit and taking her out for a quick walk around the training area.

Overall, the evening was much less stressful for all of us.

Perhaps working to tire her — and the kids — a bit before we left helped as well…

Training Clover

Last night, we took Clover for her first of several training sessions at a local kennel, and for the first few minutes, I was honestly thinking, “Dang, we’ve got a fairly well-trained dog already.” The trainer took each dog for a short walk to see if any sort of training collar would be necessary, and Clover just walked along as if she’d been perfectly trained for years. When the trainer stopped short to talk to us, Clover stopped and sat down.

“She’s good to go,” said Sandy, our trainer.

And then it happened: a long pause for the dogs when Sandy was going over this and that about the training course, about basic dog care, about the basics of training collars. Clover gradually slide herself under the small set of bleachers we were sitting on and then didn’t want to come out.

To say she didn’t want to come out is the ultimate understatement because she became wildly panicked. She began jumping and bucking, jerking and pulling. Sandy was taken aback; I was a bit surprised; everyone’s eyebrows went up just a bit.

We worked with her and coaxed her out, pulled her out, isolated her, reintroduced her — no real change.

“She needs a day of training here if you’re willing,” Sandy suggested.

So this morning, I dropped off the dog at 7:05 and picked her back up at 4:30.

Sandy’s report: at first it was more of the same. More panic, more pulling — she even pulled out of the collar and the choke-chain placed behind it to prevent escape in just such a situation. But with some persistence and patience, Sandy got her calmed down and trained so that by the end of the day, she could lead Clover into any room with any number of dogs with little to no stress on Clover’s part.

The upshot — she was so impressed with how much growth Clover showed that she’s going to be the kennel’s Trainee of the Week next week. And more importantly, she showed perfect behavior during our evening walk.

D500

Our new camera, a Nikon D500, arrived today. A few pics from the evening.

Thursday Afternoon

What else to do on a sunny Thursday afternoon than to spend some time in the backyard?

The kids decided to jump rope with K holding one end and a tree, the other.

The Girl decided she wanted a photoshoot while on the swing. And soon enough, she was making silly faces.

The dog was, well, just the dog.

Monday Afternoon

Monday afternoon. We’ve all survived work and school. The first day back is behind us.

We run down to the new trampoline and start bouncing like mad.

Clover, too, is ready for some fun.

And then, when it’s time to put the Boy to bed, I fall asleep with him, and Monday afternoon doesn’t get recorded until Tuesday evening.