Balancing the Fitness Load
I am a planner.
Almost everything I do is part of a plan.
When I started lifting weights in 1985, I recorded my sets, reps, weights, dates, and exercises.
Some of this I picked up from reading several magazines and online sites on exercise.
They taught that progress came in spoonfuls and fractions of an inch over time.
Visible changes were difficult to see in the short run.
Some of my interest in recording data was my genetic disposition to plan everything out.
I assumed that it would be useful to know my physical baseline to be able to see if the exercising was doing any good.
2016 has been an interesting year for my weight lifting.
I started out just trying to maintain what strength and mass I had left.
Aging is not fun to watch on oneself.
The normal progression - or rather, regression - is to lose strength and mass as the years progress past the age of 40 or 50.
And I have experienced this slow decline.
I have fought it kicking and screaming the whole way, as much as I could.
And one more thing - as you age, your body takes longer to recover from exercise - both after each set during the workout, and after each workout session.
So.... I set my exercise program to be simple to do.
It consisted of simple compound exercises that mostly used my bodyweight as resistance.
One set of each exercise, three days a week, and a run on Saturday morning, mainly because I love running.
The exercises were: push-ups, pull-ups, crunches, and standing barbell curls.
All upper body exercises.
My leg work consisted of my hill run each Saturday morning.
But gradually my body became accustomed to the work load, and I found myself seeking more work.
So, I increased my exercise to two sets. (I will present more details of this progression in another blog post)
Soon, I was craving more work, and went up to three sets of these same four exercises
Then, I felt that I needed to find some alternate exercises to work these same areas of my body.
So some workouts stayed the same and other workouts involved different exercises.
Then I decided to add some leg work to compliment my running.
All of this culminated in the inclusion of deadlifts into my exercise plan.
Deadlifts are, along with squats, an exercise I love to hate.
They are hard work, and involve almost your entire body.
They call into service your thighs, back, shoulders, chest and arms.
They require strict form and, if done incorrectly, you can injure yourself.
So it was with some caution and concern that I scheduled three sets of deadlifts in my Friday workout.
I kept the weight to 95 pounds to break myself in to this new exercise.
The concern had to do with my recovery time - how long would it take my body to recover from this new (new in this year - I have done them before with more weight) exercise, and would it adversely affect my run.
I wrote all of this to write this.....
I had a fantastic run this morning.
When I first started out, my left hip and knee were acting like they wanted to collapse with each step.
I was concerned that I would have to cancel my run if things did not improve.
It took about a quarter of a mile in the 40 degree darkness for things to sort themselves out.
But eventually everybody got happy.
It was in the darkest parts of the road that I realized that I had a big full moon to light the way for me.
Thus, I did not need the little flash light I had in my hand JIC.
As I started up the steepest part of the hill, I found myself running slower than I could have.
I call it passive running.
Just bopping along at a certain pace because it is comfortable.
This is instead of putting just a bit more effort into your stride and push against your capability.
I called to mind the mindset of my new athletic object of admiration, Katie Ledecky, who pushes herself every lap of every day of practice, so she can win races.
I am not trying to win any races these days, but I am trying to challenge myself.
So I put a little more effort into my run today.
Just a little.
I was mindful of my heavy workout yesterday.
Would any extra effort empty my bowl of Wheaties before I reached the end of my course?
I decided to push this a bit.
To my surprise, I felt strong - as evidenced by my level 2 breathing the whole way.
I pushed my pace both up the hill and down the hill to the end.
I was able to push hard all of the last quarter mile of my course and sprint the last 200 feet or so.
Another Ledecky finish.
Wow.
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Saturday, December 20, 2014
A Christmas Story
Following is a bit of fiction that is surrounded by actual events that came to me this week.
Enjoy.
She knew she had to
tell Joseph. But she worried how. Her condition would violate all
the customs and moral values of her people. And she knew these
customs and values were from God's law. Her parents had been
teaching them to her since she could remember. How could she violate
them now and not be punished? But the angel had said....
The angel.
How was she going to
explain the visit by the angel? They would surely think her insane.
And what would Joseph think?
Mary returned to her
chores but could barely keep her mind on her tasks. She wanted to
tell Joseph but wondered how to explain it to him. Would he believe
she had been visited by the angel? Would she if he were to come to
her with the same story? She admitted that it would be difficult.
As she worried, her mind raced with different introductions and
descriptions of her encounter. In spite of her urgent desire to tell
Joseph she finally came to the conclusion that it would be best to
wait. Perhaps some clarity would come to her if she slept on it.
It was not as simple
to do as it had seemed. Her mind seemed to spin within her skull as
she lay on her sleeping mat. She tossed from side to side, dozing
for a few minutes only to be shocked awake by a dream of the angel
visiting her again. Only this time is was just a dream. Frustrated
and angry at her inability to sleep, she tried to force her mind to
drop the topic. Finally, sometime during the night, she slept.
Mary opened her eyes
again, after yet another vivid dream. She looked around the dark
room. No one stirred in the inky silence. She looked over at the
closed window, and through the thin cracks between the wooden
shutters she could see the first dark grey shading of the coming
dawn. Still exhausted from her previous days work and lack of sleep,
she lay dozing for a few minutes, but her mind began to rehearse yet
another scenario of her explanation to Joseph. Suddenly, she was no
longer sleepy. With a sigh, she tossed her thin blanket off of her,
rolled to her knees and stood up.
The table was for
one of the Pharisees, a Rabbi Ben-David. Though simple in overall
design, the client had requested a few details to make it unique.
Joseph carefully tapped the iron chisel with the large wooden mallet,
trying to make the grooved design in the leg he was working on match
the other three he had already shaped. He stopped to examine his
work when he heard a soft knock behind him.
Turning, he saw Mary
standing at the edge of his outdoor work area.
“Hello”, he said
in surprise. By mutual agreement and conformity to local custom, she
rarely visited him at his father's shop.
“Hello,” she
returned as she stepped under the large covering of the shop.
He reached for her
hand to give her a small tactile expression of affection. It was
then that he noticed more details of her appearance.
There were tears in
her eyes and her hands were trembling.
“Mary, what's
wrong?”
“Joseph, forgive
me for this interruption,” she began, hardly looking into his eyes.
“I … I have something I must tell you.”
He had never seen
Mary in such an emotional state. This was so unlike her usual calm,
quiet demeanor. And her last words had caused him to now be on alert
to what she would say next.
“What is it, my
love?” He tried to keep his voice even, in spite of his mounting
concern.
“S... something
has happened,” she began. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “I
pray you will understand....”
A sickening dread
welled up within Joseph as he absorbed the unusual, breathless
urgency in her voice. Had she changed her mind about their
engagement? Her tear-filled eyes met his for a brief moment, then
she continued. “Joseph, something has happened and I fear you will
think I am moon-struck when I tell you. But it is true, may God
strike me dead if it were not so.” She paused to take a breath.
Perplexed, fearful
and curious, Joseph said, “Tell me, dear, what has happened?”
Mary took another
trembling breath. “Last night ... I was visited... by an an...
angel.”
There.
She had said it.
With her heart
pounding, she waited for Joseph's reaction.
Her dread of what
was about to come was almost more than she could bear.
Joseph jerked his
head back in an involuntary expression of skepticism.
“I know this
sounds crazy, but it is true,” she said solemnly.
Joseph's mind was
now swirling with many thoughts. One of the many things he loved
about Mary was her quiet spirituality. She listened carefully and
thought deeply about the law and the teachings they received. In
their conversations on such things, she had impressed him with her
understanding and perception. So, now, this revelation was not
something she would say lightly, or without deep, careful
consideration.
Joseph said, “Are
you sure it was not a dream?”
“Yes,” she said
evenly, looking into his eyes now. “I am sure.”
He was impressed
with her assurance.
“Did.... did he
say anything?” Joseph said after a moment.
“Yes,” she
began. “He said....” She paused again. “He said that I am
going to have a baby.”
Joseph's first
thought was that this was hardly news to a girl about to be married.
It would be normal and common for a young, health girl to have a
baby.
Joseph spoke this to
Mary.
“No, my love, you
don't understand,” she said quietly. “He was not speaking of
after we are married.”
Joseph stood,
holding her hand, still and silent as he absorbed the meaning of her
words.
“Before we are
married?” He said with growing distress.
Mary nodded as a
tear rolled down her cheek.
“How?” He asked.
“I don't know
exactly. He said the Holy Spirit will come over me and I will have a
…. boy child. He ….will be.... the Messiah.” She took another
trembling breath. “He said his name will be Eyaysus.”
Joseph stood looking
down at the woman he loved with all his heart, as a sickening ache
grew within him. If she had this child before they were married,
what would their families say?
What about the
neighbors and elders? They might stone both of them!
As his mind raced,
Joseph stood silent and still. A growing feeling of sickness and
hurt filled him. After so much anticipation and learning to love
this quiet, delightful girl, must he now let her go?
“Joseph,” her
quiet voice interrupted his swirling thoughts. “Do you... believe
me?” Her dark, tear-filled eyes looking intently up into his, she
held her breath.
Joseph's mind raced.
Her story was beyond strange. Coming from anyone else, he would
have easily doubted such a tale. But he knew how seriously Mary took
her obedience to the law. Given that, it gave her description even
more weight.
“Yes,” he said
finally.
At this, she
collapsed against him and wept.
His arms encircled
her shaking shoulders as she released her fear and tension.
After a minute or
so, she settled down.
“Joseph, I'm so
scared,” she spoke against his shoulder.
“Yes, I
understand,” he said, gently stroking her hair with his hand.
“Why have I been
chosen for this?” she said quietly. “I... i am nobody special.”
“Perhaps you think
so, but God sees you differently.”
Finally, she let go
of him and stepped back.
“I'm sorry,” she
said, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. “I fear now I have
brought added shame on you for my improper behavior.”
“Don't worry about
it. No one saw us that would care.”
After a quiet
moment, she said, “What do we do?”
“I don't know,”
he said with a sigh.
“Can we go some
other place?”
“I don't know,”
he repeated, almost in a whisper. “Any place we go in Israel, we
will surely be shunned.”
“Or stoned,” she
added.
“Perhaps, but not
likely,” he said. “The angel said you would deliver our
Messiah.”
“Yes.”
“You will be
protected somehow.”
“I do not want to
dishonor you, Joseph,” Mary said.
“How can you
dishonor me, giving birth to our Messiah?”
“You and I may
know my baby is our Messiah, but others will only see a baby boy with
un-married parents,” she said.
“A least I assume
he will look like other babies,” she added.
“Perhaps, you
could go to Samaria,” he said after a moment.
“Perhaps,” she
said in her sweet whisper. “But they might kill me just because I
am a Jew.”
“Yes,” he said
with a sigh. “They might.”
“Do you think we
should stay apart for a few days and think through what we should do?
“Yes,” he said.
“I don't want to, but you must be protected.”
“I.... love you,
Joseph. I am sorry I have brought this trouble to you.”
“Sorry?” he
chuckled, in spite of the overpowering decisions that suddenly faced
them. “You have been visited by an angel of God. We must do as
His messenger has said.”
“I must go now,”
she said abruptly.
He understood her
concern with proper behavior between betrothed couples in their
society.
“Shalom,” he
said with a wave, as she turned and walked out of the covered work
area into the street. He forced himself to turn away from where she
had stood. He would have much rather held her in his arms again.
Comforting her also comforted him, as well.
Joseph tried to go
back to his project but concentration was nearly impossible. He was
sick with hurt and concern for his dear betrothed. Losing her was
one thing, protecting her from the laws and customs of their people
was another.
Later that evening,
laying on his sleeping mat, his mind raced with possible scenarios
for his beloved. Should he send her away? Should they both leave?
Should they travel together or separately? Should he break the
engagement? What shame would that bring on his family and clan?
What should they do? Finally, he slept.
Deep into the night,
a vivid dream filled his mind. An angel, fearful-looking and
authoritative appeared. He spoke with a deep, calm voice, and said,
“Joseph, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. The child she
will give birth to is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a
son and you will name him Eyaysus, for He will save His people from
their sins.”
Joseph came awake
with a jump. He lay there on his mat, looking around the room
quickly. There was no one awake. All was quiet and dark. Yet his
mind could recall every detail and word spoken in his dream of the
angel and his message. He wanted to go tell Mary. But this was not
the hour to be visiting his bride-to-be. His surprise and excitement
settled into a calmness and strength. God had given the answer to
his dilemma. Yahweh would provide a way to fulfill His plan.
After rehearsing the
events of his dream a few more times in his mind, Joseph fell asleep
and rested.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
The End
He made it all the way home before he cried.
The last he saw her, she was standing in the little cell at the animal shelter, trembling.
It is an image that will be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.
He knew it would be painful, and it is.
Though not as painful as his last loss.
And the circumstances were different this time.
This time, he made the decision about when and why, not some unplanned, unknown circumstance.
But it is still painful.
He had to steel himself to go through with the task.
It is not something he did easily.
He felt like a zombi as he delivered his dog to the shelter man, trying not to think about what he was doing, emotionally, to himself and to his dog.
He just plowed ahead and did it.
It had to be done.
He knows that the pain will last for a while.
And there will be the emptiness in the yard and house.
The silence, where other sounds used to be.
No more barking in the night, or scratching on the back door.
Now it will be quiet.
Quiet even when he wished there was some sounds.
It will be quiet now.
Always quiet.
Silence is the sound sadness makes.
The sad thing is, his dog trusted him.
After all her pain in her early years, she recognized quickly that this place was different.
She had found a home where she was loved and understood.
She opened herself to him, as much as an animal can.
He was her Alpha.
He provided the food, the prime task of an Alpha.
It was a task he took seriously, and spoiled her with special additions to her bland diet – eggs, oatmeal, meat, leftovers.
It was not something that she really could appreciate beyond the moment of enjoyment.
This, because dogs do not do comparative thinking.
And for the time they were together, he gave as much of himself to her as he could.
He loved her and gave her as much Tender Loving Care as he could, given the constraints of his life/schedule.
And she responded in the only way an animal can – she wanted to be around him as much as she could.
And she exercised her instincts to warn and protect him from outside threats real and imagined (or at least, not understood).
The good news is animals do not do comparative thinking.
They live in the moment.
But they do develop expectations about how “things” will go from day to day.
They get used to the daily routine – even if each day has no repeated routine.
So, as shocking as another trip to another kennel is for her, she will adapt.
And she will forgive him.
Because she does not know how to hold a grudge or seek revenge.
She will accept her new life.
She will deal with the changes.
Perhaps she will find another good home.
At worst, she will be put to sleep.
That is the good news.
After all, she is just a dog.
The bad news is he feels like he has failed another person.
Another person who trusted him.
Another person who depended on him.
And he has.
This is like getting a divorce.
Again.
For almost the same reasons.
Almost.
Then, it was because he did not know how to continue to deal with the situation he was faced with.
After years of no change and no knowledge of how the assist in a change, he gave up trying.
So, he ended it.
This time, he knew how to deal with the issues, but also knew he could not continue to do so.
It was taking too much out of him.
Too much time.
Too much energy.
Actually it was his job that was taking all the time and energy, but of the two elements, the job was more important than the pet.
Priorities force us to make some very difficult decisions sometimes.
This was one of those times.
So he now must live with the feeling that he has betrayed the trust of a simple animal.
One who trusted him to be different from her past owners.
One who cared and would be her friend.
And it was so for a few months.
Then things changed.
And now he must live with this guilt of betrayal for the rest of his life.
So this is yet another decision that he will regret the rest of his life.
Actually, he regrets that he ever gave into his heart and adopted this second dog.
Better to have never made a commitment than to make one and break it.
So, along with the emotional pain, is the knowledge of yet another broken promise in his life.
So many broken promises.
So many....
The last he saw her, she was standing in the little cell at the animal shelter, trembling.
It is an image that will be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.
He knew it would be painful, and it is.
Though not as painful as his last loss.
And the circumstances were different this time.
This time, he made the decision about when and why, not some unplanned, unknown circumstance.
But it is still painful.
He had to steel himself to go through with the task.
It is not something he did easily.
He felt like a zombi as he delivered his dog to the shelter man, trying not to think about what he was doing, emotionally, to himself and to his dog.
He just plowed ahead and did it.
It had to be done.
He knows that the pain will last for a while.
And there will be the emptiness in the yard and house.
The silence, where other sounds used to be.
No more barking in the night, or scratching on the back door.
Now it will be quiet.
Quiet even when he wished there was some sounds.
It will be quiet now.
Always quiet.
Silence is the sound sadness makes.
The sad thing is, his dog trusted him.
After all her pain in her early years, she recognized quickly that this place was different.
She had found a home where she was loved and understood.
She opened herself to him, as much as an animal can.
He was her Alpha.
He provided the food, the prime task of an Alpha.
It was a task he took seriously, and spoiled her with special additions to her bland diet – eggs, oatmeal, meat, leftovers.
It was not something that she really could appreciate beyond the moment of enjoyment.
This, because dogs do not do comparative thinking.
And for the time they were together, he gave as much of himself to her as he could.
He loved her and gave her as much Tender Loving Care as he could, given the constraints of his life/schedule.
And she responded in the only way an animal can – she wanted to be around him as much as she could.
And she exercised her instincts to warn and protect him from outside threats real and imagined (or at least, not understood).
The good news is animals do not do comparative thinking.
They live in the moment.
But they do develop expectations about how “things” will go from day to day.
They get used to the daily routine – even if each day has no repeated routine.
So, as shocking as another trip to another kennel is for her, she will adapt.
And she will forgive him.
Because she does not know how to hold a grudge or seek revenge.
She will accept her new life.
She will deal with the changes.
Perhaps she will find another good home.
At worst, she will be put to sleep.
That is the good news.
After all, she is just a dog.
The bad news is he feels like he has failed another person.
Another person who trusted him.
Another person who depended on him.
And he has.
This is like getting a divorce.
Again.
For almost the same reasons.
Almost.
Then, it was because he did not know how to continue to deal with the situation he was faced with.
After years of no change and no knowledge of how the assist in a change, he gave up trying.
So, he ended it.
This time, he knew how to deal with the issues, but also knew he could not continue to do so.
It was taking too much out of him.
Too much time.
Too much energy.
Actually it was his job that was taking all the time and energy, but of the two elements, the job was more important than the pet.
Priorities force us to make some very difficult decisions sometimes.
This was one of those times.
So he now must live with the feeling that he has betrayed the trust of a simple animal.
One who trusted him to be different from her past owners.
One who cared and would be her friend.
And it was so for a few months.
Then things changed.
And now he must live with this guilt of betrayal for the rest of his life.
So this is yet another decision that he will regret the rest of his life.
Actually, he regrets that he ever gave into his heart and adopted this second dog.
Better to have never made a commitment than to make one and break it.
So, along with the emotional pain, is the knowledge of yet another broken promise in his life.
So many broken promises.
So many....
Saturday, September 08, 2012
Life Changes
After four months of searching I have been blessed with a job.
It is not an ideal position but it will supply my needs.
I knew when I pressed the Send button that there was the risk of being hired in this less-than-ideal job.
But the situation worse than having a less-than-ideal job is no job at all.
And I have had six months of that.
So here I am.
I am working on my Philippians 4:12 skills (along with learning the details of my new job).
To prevent you from having to look it up, it goes like this......
Philippians 4:12
I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
What is the job, you ask?
I am a janitor, tasked with cleaning a part of one of the Huntsville city high schools.
My shift is from 3 PM until 11:30 PM.
Most of us get finished with our assigned area by 9 PM.
Sometimes sooner, sometimes later.
When we complete our work, we sit in the cafeteria and wait for our leader to dismiss us.
Sometimes that is earlier and sometimes it is 11:30.
But while we are working, we are moving around – emptying the trash, sweeping, mopping, dusting, vacuuming, cleaning toilets, cleaning windows and mirrors.
I am the only white-skinned person on the crew.
I am also the oldest person on the crew.
One good thing about his job is that it is harassment-free.
Our leed person leaves us alone to do our work.
I want Miss. Wanda to come by to inspect my work to be sure that I am doing my job correctly.
And she does.
But she does not stand over me.
I like that.
I get nervous when someone is standing by, looking over my shoulder.
As I expected, this job is very taxing on me, physically.
While the work is not hard, as I count hard, I am constantly busy and moving around.
it makes me go home very tired every evening.
Because I cannot do as much as I used to do, or for as long as I used to do, I have had to re-arrange my physical activities.
I have always hated second shift because of the disruption it causes in my daily life.
This job is no exception.
Here are some of my life changes.....
No more morning weight workouts on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
No more morning walks around the neighborhood on Tuesday and Thursday.
No more running on Saturday morning.
I can no longer attend church on Wednesday evenings.
I can no longer attend the meetings of my neighborhood association, neighborhood council, or community watch group.
I have not had a regular dinner until tonight (Saturday) since I started last Tuesday (Monday was a holiday and my last regular dinner).
You cannot cook a steak and prepare a salad at work.
So I eat two lunches, one at lunch time, and one at work.
Just walking the dog each morning is less enjoyable than it was before.
The pay is just slightly above minimum wage.
But even at this wage, it will be enough to supply my needs.
Even if they start adjusting our pay to actual hours worked instead of padding the timesheets like they are now.
The good part of this job is that it is monday through friday.
I have my weekends off.
There is talk of some occasional overtime on weekends but I will steadfastly resist such activities.
There are people on the crew who want more hours (= more money) that I will gladly give my extra time to.
So, am I happy?
Sort of.
Do I hate my job?
No.
Hate is too strong a word.
Would I rather be doing something else?
Yes, but it depends on what the other something is.
There are other jobs around that are harder than this one.
With more difficult people to work with.
I am still looking at Help Wanted ads.
It is not an ideal position but it will supply my needs.
I knew when I pressed the Send button that there was the risk of being hired in this less-than-ideal job.
But the situation worse than having a less-than-ideal job is no job at all.
And I have had six months of that.
So here I am.
I am working on my Philippians 4:12 skills (along with learning the details of my new job).
To prevent you from having to look it up, it goes like this......
Philippians 4:12
I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
What is the job, you ask?
I am a janitor, tasked with cleaning a part of one of the Huntsville city high schools.
My shift is from 3 PM until 11:30 PM.
Most of us get finished with our assigned area by 9 PM.
Sometimes sooner, sometimes later.
When we complete our work, we sit in the cafeteria and wait for our leader to dismiss us.
Sometimes that is earlier and sometimes it is 11:30.
But while we are working, we are moving around – emptying the trash, sweeping, mopping, dusting, vacuuming, cleaning toilets, cleaning windows and mirrors.
I am the only white-skinned person on the crew.
I am also the oldest person on the crew.
One good thing about his job is that it is harassment-free.
Our leed person leaves us alone to do our work.
I want Miss. Wanda to come by to inspect my work to be sure that I am doing my job correctly.
And she does.
But she does not stand over me.
I like that.
I get nervous when someone is standing by, looking over my shoulder.
As I expected, this job is very taxing on me, physically.
While the work is not hard, as I count hard, I am constantly busy and moving around.
it makes me go home very tired every evening.
Because I cannot do as much as I used to do, or for as long as I used to do, I have had to re-arrange my physical activities.
I have always hated second shift because of the disruption it causes in my daily life.
This job is no exception.
Here are some of my life changes.....
No more morning weight workouts on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
No more morning walks around the neighborhood on Tuesday and Thursday.
No more running on Saturday morning.
I can no longer attend church on Wednesday evenings.
I can no longer attend the meetings of my neighborhood association, neighborhood council, or community watch group.
I have not had a regular dinner until tonight (Saturday) since I started last Tuesday (Monday was a holiday and my last regular dinner).
You cannot cook a steak and prepare a salad at work.
So I eat two lunches, one at lunch time, and one at work.
Just walking the dog each morning is less enjoyable than it was before.
The pay is just slightly above minimum wage.
But even at this wage, it will be enough to supply my needs.
Even if they start adjusting our pay to actual hours worked instead of padding the timesheets like they are now.
The good part of this job is that it is monday through friday.
I have my weekends off.
There is talk of some occasional overtime on weekends but I will steadfastly resist such activities.
There are people on the crew who want more hours (= more money) that I will gladly give my extra time to.
So, am I happy?
Sort of.
Do I hate my job?
No.
Hate is too strong a word.
Would I rather be doing something else?
Yes, but it depends on what the other something is.
There are other jobs around that are harder than this one.
With more difficult people to work with.
I am still looking at Help Wanted ads.
Friday, August 03, 2012
Consequences
Patty is miffed at me today.
She has good reason to be – sort of.
Let me explain.
Last night, Patty awoke from her evening nap at 12:30 AM, came to my bed to be let outside.
I drowsily complied and went back to bed.
We had a pretty good rain yesterday afternoon and the ground was damp.
I was in the bed but five minutes when Patty began to bark.
This was not her usual announcement barks – deep, slow, grouped in fours or fives.
These barks were quick and short, grouped in threes or fours.
I let this go on for a about five minutes then reluctantly decided to investigate.
Outside, I find Patty with her nose under my utility shed and her butt in the air, tail in full wag.
Evidently, she has found some critter under the shed – perhaps a cat or raccoon.
Patty is running from side to side of the building, furiously digging in the nice soft clay to get closer to her prey.
Her nice white fur, from her elbows down, is a nice dark brown.
This can be seen even in the moonlight.
I ask her to stop but she pays me no mind, totally absorbed in the nocturnal hunt.
I dread what she will look like when she is done with her adventure, and what I must do to accommodate her dirty state.
I went back to bed, after locking the back door, so she could not reenter the house, disturbed by what was going on in my back yard.
What do I do?
Lock her out?
Yes.
Give her a bath?
Certainly, but when?
Outside, with the water hose, given her muddy state? (I had just mopped the floor yesterday because of another digging session by the quad-paw.)
But I know she would not like that and would be hard to keep still given that she would have the whole back yard to avoid me.
Or a bath in the tub – the usual method?
And when?
When we first wake up?
Before breakfast?
After breakfast but before her walk?
It might help her dry out to do it then.
Or give her a bath after her walk, when she is tired?
Or...
My mind was a whirl.
Meanwhile, Patty continued to bark.
After another 15 minutes or so of non-sleep I got up again and went out into the back yard.
Patty was more responsive to my presence this time. (a good sign).
She stopped barking and came over to me.
She was indeed muddy.
And happy to have something to do.
She seemed proud of herself.
At that point, the critter apparently escaped from under the shed and ran under my rear fence.
Patty gave chase but was too late for a capture.
After sticking her nose under the back fence (and rubbing her chest in more brown dirt/mud), she returned to me (standing on the concrete patio) for affirmation.
I complimented her on her keen senses and advised her to stop barking (which at this point was all but unnecessary – she had stopped barking on her own.)
I advised her to go to sleep, which she seemed to obey by laying down in the grass, and I went back to my bed.
I lay in the dark, my mind spinning at 10k rpm, regarding what to do with my mud-ball dog.
After ten minutes or so, I turned on the light and began to read my History of the Christian Church, Volume 2. After about 30 minutes, I was ready to try darkness and Alpha brain waves again.
I slept.
So this is what happened Friday morning and why Patty is ill with me.
I woke up at – correction – I GOT up at 5:50 AM (yes, I slept in...).
Shaved and did my usual Friday weight workout.
I fed Patty her dog food (no embellishments) outside.
I fixed my breakfast, ate it, and cleaned the dishes.
Then got myself ready for our usual dog-man walk.
I went outside, put the leash around Patty's neck (she is getting better at holding still while I install her chain collar around her neck), and off we went.
We did our usual walk, but I had a plan....
After about 50 minutes we were home again.
I left patty in the dining room while I prepared the bathroom for a doggy bath.
I removed her collars and gently grabbing the skin of her neck, guided her into the bathroom (which she does not like for this very reason).
I lifted her into the tub and began the soaking of her very substantial fur.
I did my best to clean her muddy legs, paws, chest, and tummy.
Patty tolerated my ministrations as best she could, but it was clear she wanted OUT.
Finally, I was done.
She was glad and did not take much urging to climb out of the tub on to the drying matt.
After a few shakes and towel rubs she was free to go hide in her place of choice.
It was at this point that I got The Look from my dog.
A mixture of betrayal and disappointment in her eyes.
And body language that said I am ready to run from you again if you have any further plans for me.
But I was mostly done.
I went to the store to buy our weekly food, leaving Patty inside to air-dry her remaining dampness.
We are slowly returning to our previous levels of cordiality.
Monday, July 30, 2012
More On The Theory Of Dog Walking
Walking Patty the dog is an interesting experience.
It also allows me to ponder the differences between Patty and my previous, short-lived dog, Sally.
First, the basics...
For me, walking the dog is all about the dog.
It provides exercise for the animal, helps her get used to her neighborhood, meet other people and animals, and see other things outside of her fenced-in plot of dirt.
For the most part, I let my dog choose which path/street/direction to go.
I don't care (with qualifications).
I only intervene when I have to, for the safety of the dog or simple convenience (meaning that our presence in/near a situation ahead may cause a disruption that will be bothersome to someone else).
I don't care if she stops and sniffs every other mailbox post, etc.
That is why we are out there.
I watch the time and try to keep our jaunts to about an hour, mostly because I am a scheduled kind of guy.
When I lived in the country, Woof, my big yard dog was free to roam the fields at will.
He trotted a path around the neighborhood every morning just after sunrise, often with a friend of his from next door.
I observed that the normal pace for a morning explore was a brisk trot with lots of stops to sniff.
I guessed that this was the equivalent to the wolves going on a hunt.
After about an hour, Woof would come home, plop in the driveway and be on station for the rest of the day to guard and protect his two-legged charges.
I did not take Woof for walks because he did not need any.
If the two-leggers did go for a walk, he came along as a part of the family, but he knew this walk was not for his benefit.
Living in the city is different.
Dogs need to be walked for several reasons.
Now to my observations....
Sally was a strutter.
She was proud to be a growing big white doggy and when she walked along the street or sidewalk, you could hear her front paws slap the pavement.
Patty is less vigorous.
Sally liked to be my leader/hunter/protector and she liked to pull me along.
To the point that I had to literally brace myself to hold her back when she wanted to examine something out of leash distance.
I was constantly having to make her stop pulling.
Patty is less vigorous.
She likes a slight pressure on her neck as we walk, but she is constantly trying to adjust to my pace.
Seldom will she test the tensile strength of her nylon tether.
Often, I have to keep a slight tension on her leash because she is walking very close to me.
If I did not keep this gentle pressure in her string, the chain collar would just fall open.
In both cases, I am less intolerant of being dragged along on the journey because I understand that the normal pace of a dog on his/her morning walk is a trot.
They are excited to get out and see/smell who has been around overnight.
This is not an urgent pace, but it is clearly exciting to them.
It is important business that they must be about.
It is what they must do.
I am less excited about this task, so I am less enthused.
But I try to go along with the program because I understand the drill, to some extent.
Still, being dragged along the sidewalk with 74 pounds of tension on the line can be tiring and bothersome, so I do try to moderate it occasionally.
I believe Sally would have been perfectly happy to be pulling me along in a Radio Flyer, if we had one.
Patty, once reminded, does try to moderate her pace.
She is a very compliant dog.
We can likely tally some of Sally's exuberance to her youth.
She may have settled down had she been allowed to live long enough.
Sally was the explorer of the two dogs.
Once she got used to one path, a process that took just two or three trips, she was ready to blaze a new trail.
She took me all over the neighborhood.
She never took the same path two day in a row.
And she wanted to sniff both sides of a road.
Everything needed to be checked.
Patty is 180.
I let her choose the direction of our walk the first morning and we basically walk the same course every morning.
Sometimes she explores the church grounds that is on our route (like yesterday) and sometimes she ignores it (like today).
But these are minor variations to a very predictable pattern.
And she is content to stay on the sidewalk.
Rarely will she seek to sniff something across the street.
Only today, did she seek to turn and go down a street she has never traveled.
This path actually led to two other streets she has never been on.
True to her form, Patty stayed on one side of the street and did not zig-zag from side to side very much.
We shall see if this breaks her walking pattern.
These are streets that Sally knew well.
Sally liked to run.
When she got excited (like when greeting another dog), she wanted to run to burn off the energy such situations generated in her.
Being a runner, I always complied.
One reason was because I know that Great Pyrenees dogs are not long distance runners.
They will lumber along for a few hundred feet, then slow to a walk.
Three or four sessions like this during an hour walk and they are done for the day.
This may have been a symptom of Sally's youth that would have diminished with time.
We will never know.
Patty trots.
Period.
She stops and assesses her item of interest for several seconds.
Sometimes a full minute.
Then walks on.
Only occasionally will Patty trot and even more rarely will she run.
And then, only a few dozen yards.
Sally did all of her biological business in her yard.
While on a walk, she seemed to not care if other animals knew who she was or where she had been.
So, she seldom left any momentos for the other animals to sniff.
Patty is the opposite.
She saves her liquid and semi-solid gifts for the neighbors yards.
So I must attend to our walks with the appropriate baggage.
Patty will squat 20 or so times on our walks.
And provide two bags worth of other material along the way.
From my observations, Patty is a very healthy dog.
I am not sure why it is so important for Patty to mark her path so often.
I am sure there are more differences between these two interesting creatures, but I have run out of items for today.
.
It also allows me to ponder the differences between Patty and my previous, short-lived dog, Sally.
First, the basics...
For me, walking the dog is all about the dog.
It provides exercise for the animal, helps her get used to her neighborhood, meet other people and animals, and see other things outside of her fenced-in plot of dirt.
For the most part, I let my dog choose which path/street/direction to go.
I don't care (with qualifications).
I only intervene when I have to, for the safety of the dog or simple convenience (meaning that our presence in/near a situation ahead may cause a disruption that will be bothersome to someone else).
I don't care if she stops and sniffs every other mailbox post, etc.
That is why we are out there.
I watch the time and try to keep our jaunts to about an hour, mostly because I am a scheduled kind of guy.
When I lived in the country, Woof, my big yard dog was free to roam the fields at will.
He trotted a path around the neighborhood every morning just after sunrise, often with a friend of his from next door.
I observed that the normal pace for a morning explore was a brisk trot with lots of stops to sniff.
I guessed that this was the equivalent to the wolves going on a hunt.
After about an hour, Woof would come home, plop in the driveway and be on station for the rest of the day to guard and protect his two-legged charges.
I did not take Woof for walks because he did not need any.
If the two-leggers did go for a walk, he came along as a part of the family, but he knew this walk was not for his benefit.
Living in the city is different.
Dogs need to be walked for several reasons.
Now to my observations....
Sally was a strutter.
She was proud to be a growing big white doggy and when she walked along the street or sidewalk, you could hear her front paws slap the pavement.
Patty is less vigorous.
Sally liked to be my leader/hunter/protector and she liked to pull me along.
To the point that I had to literally brace myself to hold her back when she wanted to examine something out of leash distance.
I was constantly having to make her stop pulling.
Patty is less vigorous.
She likes a slight pressure on her neck as we walk, but she is constantly trying to adjust to my pace.
Seldom will she test the tensile strength of her nylon tether.
Often, I have to keep a slight tension on her leash because she is walking very close to me.
If I did not keep this gentle pressure in her string, the chain collar would just fall open.
In both cases, I am less intolerant of being dragged along on the journey because I understand that the normal pace of a dog on his/her morning walk is a trot.
They are excited to get out and see/smell who has been around overnight.
This is not an urgent pace, but it is clearly exciting to them.
It is important business that they must be about.
It is what they must do.
I am less excited about this task, so I am less enthused.
But I try to go along with the program because I understand the drill, to some extent.
Still, being dragged along the sidewalk with 74 pounds of tension on the line can be tiring and bothersome, so I do try to moderate it occasionally.
I believe Sally would have been perfectly happy to be pulling me along in a Radio Flyer, if we had one.
Patty, once reminded, does try to moderate her pace.
She is a very compliant dog.
We can likely tally some of Sally's exuberance to her youth.
She may have settled down had she been allowed to live long enough.
Sally was the explorer of the two dogs.
Once she got used to one path, a process that took just two or three trips, she was ready to blaze a new trail.
She took me all over the neighborhood.
She never took the same path two day in a row.
And she wanted to sniff both sides of a road.
Everything needed to be checked.
Patty is 180.
I let her choose the direction of our walk the first morning and we basically walk the same course every morning.
Sometimes she explores the church grounds that is on our route (like yesterday) and sometimes she ignores it (like today).
But these are minor variations to a very predictable pattern.
And she is content to stay on the sidewalk.
Rarely will she seek to sniff something across the street.
Only today, did she seek to turn and go down a street she has never traveled.
This path actually led to two other streets she has never been on.
True to her form, Patty stayed on one side of the street and did not zig-zag from side to side very much.
We shall see if this breaks her walking pattern.
These are streets that Sally knew well.
Sally liked to run.
When she got excited (like when greeting another dog), she wanted to run to burn off the energy such situations generated in her.
Being a runner, I always complied.
One reason was because I know that Great Pyrenees dogs are not long distance runners.
They will lumber along for a few hundred feet, then slow to a walk.
Three or four sessions like this during an hour walk and they are done for the day.
This may have been a symptom of Sally's youth that would have diminished with time.
We will never know.
Patty trots.
Period.
She stops and assesses her item of interest for several seconds.
Sometimes a full minute.
Then walks on.
Only occasionally will Patty trot and even more rarely will she run.
And then, only a few dozen yards.
Sally did all of her biological business in her yard.
While on a walk, she seemed to not care if other animals knew who she was or where she had been.
So, she seldom left any momentos for the other animals to sniff.
Patty is the opposite.
She saves her liquid and semi-solid gifts for the neighbors yards.
So I must attend to our walks with the appropriate baggage.
Patty will squat 20 or so times on our walks.
And provide two bags worth of other material along the way.
From my observations, Patty is a very healthy dog.
I am not sure why it is so important for Patty to mark her path so often.
I am sure there are more differences between these two interesting creatures, but I have run out of items for today.
.
Wednesday, July 04, 2012
The Progress of Patty the Pooch
Patty is a sweet, smart dog.
It is difficult to believe that she was mistreated before I found her.
She responds to her new name (Patty) without any special training on my part.
When she misbehaves (mainly trashcan diving) she acts contrite just from my voice inflections.
She has never yet messed in the house.
And Patty does not play with my dirty clothes. (like my former fuzzy friend did...)
Around food she is mostly well-behaved.
She did steal something off the dining table once when left unattended.
This may have been because she did not know the rules as much as being a sneak.
Most of the time, she just sniffs and looks and licks her lips.
We will see how she does in this area.
Early on she was nervous about fast hand movements, but that seems to be mostly gone.
Occasionally, she will shy away from a fast hand movement, especially by strangers.
Her initial resistance to being on a leash is nearly all gone.
She does well 99 percent of the time and only occasionally tries to pull away.
Patty is learning to negotiate with me on pace and direction during our walks.
My philosophy is that walking a dog is for the benefit of the dog, not the human.
It is not a victory lap to show off my trophy animal for all the neighbors to admire.
It is to exercise the dog and allow her to get used to her area.
So some of the pace and direction of the walk should be left up to the dog.
My overrides to her decisions are mainly for her safety or a time constraint.
Early on, there was some resistance to having a collar around her neck.
But that went away the second day I had her.
Now she has a collar on all the time since then (except for her bath).
Today, I started using a chain choke collar for her walk, - as I did with Sally - to see how she would respond.
She did fine.
Zero resistance to having a new, heavier piece of hardware around her neck, and she responded well to the new feel.
As with Sally, I use it only for walks.
Sally liked to pull me along, apparently from the need to be my guide through the neighborhood.
Patty is more relaxed.
She will spend most of a walk with a loose leash at my side or just ahead of me.
My goal with the choke collar is to keep it loose most of the time, with just a small amount of tension on it so she knows I'm there.
If she needs some guidance, then more tension can be applied – typically, very little is needed and only for two or three seconds.
If more urgent or aggressive guidance is required, the choke function is there to mimic the teeth of an Alpha pack leader administering discipline.
But the need for this last application is rare.
Often times, Patty will respond at just a quiet word from me.
She is learning my command, “wait”.
Which means to stop at the end of a sidewalk before walking into the street.
The command involves a slight tug on the leash to let her know the needs to stop.
Sally was learning it, too.
Patty is already tuned into this command.
She is doing well with my other commands, “this way” (some other direction than the one she is going), and “be with me” (= “heel”).
As you can see, I do not do traditional dog commands.
I just talk to them like I talk to peoples.
They get it. (the dogs....)
My version of the traditional command, “come” is “come here”.
We are still working on this one.
There is no real problem here, I just have not spent much time training Patty.
Mainly because she is so smart and well-behaved.
We have not spent any time on “sit”, “stay”, or “lay down”, yet.
Interestingly, I have told her to lay down on two occasions and she laid down.
I don't know if she really understood the command or if she was just lucky.
I was impressed, nonetheless.
The summary of all of this is that Patty has not been as difficult to adjust to (and seemingly, vice versa) as I was expecting.
I do not know what her former life was like, but she seems to be doing just fine here.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Patty - Post op
Patty had her internal female parts modified Thursday.
I delivered her a 7 AM, per instructions, and picked her up at 4 PM that afternoon.
She was barely able to walk at pick-up time.
I had to help her into the car.
Once home, she had no appetite not even for water.
She wanted to stay outside even though it was very hot (100), I thought she would be more comfortable inside.
I prevailed because she was in no shape to argue.
Bad idea.
She got sick and barfed on the gym room carpet. (a common reaction to anesthesia, I understand)
So I let her out for a while.
After a couple of hours she requested to come inside and I accommodated her.
She slept all night in her two favorite locations - next to my bed against the wall, with her head on the A/C vent, or, in the dining room on the cool vinyl floor, in front of her little fan.
Friday morning Patty was better but in obvious pain/discomfort.
She spent the morning going from place to place in the house, trying to find a comfortable place/position.
She was sleep for a while in each spot then have to get up and find another spot.
She even went to places she has never slept before - head under my bed, under my keyboard, in the gym room, in the back storage/workshop room.
Sometime at mid-morning Patty drank some water.
This was a good sign as she had gone over 24 hours with out drinking anything.
When she woke up from her noon nap, she nibbled at her food.
More good.
And when I scratched her, her tail responded with more enthusiasm.
By Friday evening, Patty was eating small snacks every couple of hours.
I responded by giving her some roast turkey bits along with her dry dog food.
Saturday morning Patty wanted out at 4:30 AM - her usual time.
I let her go out and went back to bed for few minutes before I needed to get up for my weekly run.
THE RUN
I felt tired Saturday morning.
I knew that I would break no records during this mornings jog but that was of little concern to me.
The big deal was to finish the whole distance with no stops or injuries.
That goal was accomplished, but not without some challenges.
First, my tiredness wanted part of me to whine about how hard this was.
The firm, consistant answer to that was "shut up and run".
And run we did, even though I was forced into Level 3 breathing for the last third of the party.
Second, was my left leg.
It had some muscle/nerve/connection problem that made each step chirp some undefined complaint.
It felt like a neurological issue except that there was some low-level pain in there also.
Every time I moved my leg forward to take the next step, there was a vague pain around my Sartorius muscle upper connection. (the muscle that lifts the leg forward toward the body.)
Or some place near there.
And as I placed my foot and the weight of my body transfered to my left leg, my thigh muscles acted like they did not want to support my weight.
A precursor to my left leg collapsing.
Not good.
That is the bad news.
The good news is that I finished my four-mile run with no problems.
No stopping.
No collapsing.
No broken parts.
Woo hoo.
Patty - Day 3 Post Op
Patty was much better today.
Her tail was up to at least 90% full wag.
She was hungry and more playful/responsive.
I cooked her an egg to go with her dog food, for breakfast.
She went outside a few times and barked a few times (her first utterances since being sliced upon).
She slept more comfortably and could not get enough food.
All good signs.
The day was not without its troubles.
Patty trangressed the Tradition of the Elders - twice - this afternoon.
She dove into the kitchen trash can and stole the egg shells from this mornings breakfast.
For this, she was banished to the back yard.
Thirty minutes later, she fished something else out of the same can to sniff/lick/taste.
Out to the back yard she went again.
When I invited her back inside a few minutes later, she refused.
She wanted to enjoy the 104 degree heat.
She would show me.
After about an hour, she requested entry to the coolatorium.
Which I granted.
It appears we are still friends.
I delivered her a 7 AM, per instructions, and picked her up at 4 PM that afternoon.
She was barely able to walk at pick-up time.
I had to help her into the car.
Once home, she had no appetite not even for water.
She wanted to stay outside even though it was very hot (100), I thought she would be more comfortable inside.
I prevailed because she was in no shape to argue.
Bad idea.
She got sick and barfed on the gym room carpet. (a common reaction to anesthesia, I understand)
So I let her out for a while.
After a couple of hours she requested to come inside and I accommodated her.
She slept all night in her two favorite locations - next to my bed against the wall, with her head on the A/C vent, or, in the dining room on the cool vinyl floor, in front of her little fan.
Friday morning Patty was better but in obvious pain/discomfort.
She spent the morning going from place to place in the house, trying to find a comfortable place/position.
She was sleep for a while in each spot then have to get up and find another spot.
She even went to places she has never slept before - head under my bed, under my keyboard, in the gym room, in the back storage/workshop room.
Sometime at mid-morning Patty drank some water.
This was a good sign as she had gone over 24 hours with out drinking anything.
When she woke up from her noon nap, she nibbled at her food.
More good.
And when I scratched her, her tail responded with more enthusiasm.
By Friday evening, Patty was eating small snacks every couple of hours.
I responded by giving her some roast turkey bits along with her dry dog food.
Saturday morning Patty wanted out at 4:30 AM - her usual time.
I let her go out and went back to bed for few minutes before I needed to get up for my weekly run.
THE RUN
I felt tired Saturday morning.
I knew that I would break no records during this mornings jog but that was of little concern to me.
The big deal was to finish the whole distance with no stops or injuries.
That goal was accomplished, but not without some challenges.
First, my tiredness wanted part of me to whine about how hard this was.
The firm, consistant answer to that was "shut up and run".
And run we did, even though I was forced into Level 3 breathing for the last third of the party.
Second, was my left leg.
It had some muscle/nerve/connection problem that made each step chirp some undefined complaint.
It felt like a neurological issue except that there was some low-level pain in there also.
Every time I moved my leg forward to take the next step, there was a vague pain around my Sartorius muscle upper connection. (the muscle that lifts the leg forward toward the body.)
Or some place near there.
And as I placed my foot and the weight of my body transfered to my left leg, my thigh muscles acted like they did not want to support my weight.
A precursor to my left leg collapsing.
Not good.
That is the bad news.
The good news is that I finished my four-mile run with no problems.
No stopping.
No collapsing.
No broken parts.
Woo hoo.
Patty - Day 3 Post Op
Patty was much better today.
Her tail was up to at least 90% full wag.
She was hungry and more playful/responsive.
I cooked her an egg to go with her dog food, for breakfast.
She went outside a few times and barked a few times (her first utterances since being sliced upon).
She slept more comfortably and could not get enough food.
All good signs.
The day was not without its troubles.
Patty trangressed the Tradition of the Elders - twice - this afternoon.
She dove into the kitchen trash can and stole the egg shells from this mornings breakfast.
For this, she was banished to the back yard.
Thirty minutes later, she fished something else out of the same can to sniff/lick/taste.
Out to the back yard she went again.
When I invited her back inside a few minutes later, she refused.
She wanted to enjoy the 104 degree heat.
She would show me.
After about an hour, she requested entry to the coolatorium.
Which I granted.
It appears we are still friends.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Patty n Me - Day 2
We slept better last night - about 6 hours.
She spent the night in the narrow (24 inch)space between my bed and the wall.
She seemed to do a lot less scratching during the night.
I put her out when I went running at 5:30.
She was a bit stressed but hopeful.
When I returned an hour or so later, Patty was glad to see me (duh).
THE RUN
The run itself was a total success (again - I am spoiled with blessings)
Because of my lack of sleep, I felt tired from the time we woke up at 4:30 AM.
I let Patty out but she seemed to have no urgency in her.
She came in and I went back to bed hoping to doze off for a little while before my "official" wake up time of 5 AM.
The time came too soon and I was not ready.
I would have slept-in another half hour but I wanted to get done what I planned to do.
So I got up and began the day.
From my first steps on the course I could feel the tiredness in me. (does that make sense? Do we "feel" what is not in us or just what remains?)
But my strategy was, as always, do what I can do.
So I did.
The session really did not go that badly.
The long uphill was a challenge but not significantly more than other times.
In fact, I did better than I have at other times (faster breathing, etc)
On the return loop a part of me flirted with the thought of "stop and walk for a minute or two".
Ego, Runner, Coach, and Running Central, all said "no" to that idea.
Tired equals slower, not, stop and walk.
So I finished my weekly four-mile loop in good shape. (no pains, no injuries, no stops)
PATTY
After a shower, we had breakfast together and she did not eat all I gave her.
That brought flashbacks of dark events 8 weeks ago.
She was also very calm/sleepy lying on the kitchen floor on her side.
More concern.
But my worries were unfounded, it seems.
I ate my eggs and let her lick the plate.
She liked that and was obviously surprised.
While I washed the dishes, Patty took turns laying on the cool kitchen
floor and playing with her new tennis ball in the back room.
Then, after doing the dishes, I let her out in the backyard again.
This time, the neighbor dogs were out and started to yap.
Patty seemed to want to play with them (a first in my seeing).
She was galloping around the yard when I left her.
I went food shopping (including a 50 p bag of dog food...)
When I returned, she was lying in the shade next to the fence and did
not hear me.
I unloaded the car then let fur-face in.
After everything was put away, I decided to take her for a short walk
to do some more leash training.
The walk was a slow affair.
I had to let her test/examine every new bark and smell and sound.
And she has to learn to come around each telephone pole and mailbox on
my side (as Sally did so amazingly).
We went around the smallest, nearest block, as I had planned.
I did not intend for this to be an extended session.
She needs to get used to a lot of stuff - me, the leash, the noises,
dogs, smells of the neighborhood, etc.
It just will take some time.
A highlight of our walk was when she allowed a neighbor lady to pet her.
Patty was VERY cautious at first, but within two or three minutes,
scratches were being received.
The lady has a rescue dog, as well, so she knows the drill.
Tomorrow will be a test because I will be gone for almost four hours at church.
Patty may not know how long because she cannot read a clock.
Interesting factoid - Patty came to the shelter the same week Sally
died - four days apart.
She spent the night in the narrow (24 inch)space between my bed and the wall.
She seemed to do a lot less scratching during the night.
I put her out when I went running at 5:30.
She was a bit stressed but hopeful.
When I returned an hour or so later, Patty was glad to see me (duh).
THE RUN
The run itself was a total success (again - I am spoiled with blessings)
Because of my lack of sleep, I felt tired from the time we woke up at 4:30 AM.
I let Patty out but she seemed to have no urgency in her.
She came in and I went back to bed hoping to doze off for a little while before my "official" wake up time of 5 AM.
The time came too soon and I was not ready.
I would have slept-in another half hour but I wanted to get done what I planned to do.
So I got up and began the day.
From my first steps on the course I could feel the tiredness in me. (does that make sense? Do we "feel" what is not in us or just what remains?)
But my strategy was, as always, do what I can do.
So I did.
The session really did not go that badly.
The long uphill was a challenge but not significantly more than other times.
In fact, I did better than I have at other times (faster breathing, etc)
On the return loop a part of me flirted with the thought of "stop and walk for a minute or two".
Ego, Runner, Coach, and Running Central, all said "no" to that idea.
Tired equals slower, not, stop and walk.
So I finished my weekly four-mile loop in good shape. (no pains, no injuries, no stops)
PATTY
After a shower, we had breakfast together and she did not eat all I gave her.
That brought flashbacks of dark events 8 weeks ago.
She was also very calm/sleepy lying on the kitchen floor on her side.
More concern.
But my worries were unfounded, it seems.
I ate my eggs and let her lick the plate.
She liked that and was obviously surprised.
While I washed the dishes, Patty took turns laying on the cool kitchen
floor and playing with her new tennis ball in the back room.
Then, after doing the dishes, I let her out in the backyard again.
This time, the neighbor dogs were out and started to yap.
Patty seemed to want to play with them (a first in my seeing).
She was galloping around the yard when I left her.
I went food shopping (including a 50 p bag of dog food...)
When I returned, she was lying in the shade next to the fence and did
not hear me.
I unloaded the car then let fur-face in.
After everything was put away, I decided to take her for a short walk
to do some more leash training.
The walk was a slow affair.
I had to let her test/examine every new bark and smell and sound.
And she has to learn to come around each telephone pole and mailbox on
my side (as Sally did so amazingly).
We went around the smallest, nearest block, as I had planned.
I did not intend for this to be an extended session.
She needs to get used to a lot of stuff - me, the leash, the noises,
dogs, smells of the neighborhood, etc.
It just will take some time.
A highlight of our walk was when she allowed a neighbor lady to pet her.
Patty was VERY cautious at first, but within two or three minutes,
scratches were being received.
The lady has a rescue dog, as well, so she knows the drill.
Tomorrow will be a test because I will be gone for almost four hours at church.
Patty may not know how long because she cannot read a clock.
Interesting factoid - Patty came to the shelter the same week Sally
died - four days apart.
Friday, June 22, 2012
THE FIRST NIGHT WITH PATTY
I don't know if this is going to work.
My nights sleep amounted to about three or four hours.
Hers must have been about the same.
At midnight she seemed like she wanted to play.
Midnight is not my play time.
She loves my attention. (duh).
She does not lick me - not face, not hands - she nuzzles with her
nose. (using her nose, she wiggled it into my relaxed hand and moved
my fingers so that I would scratch her)
She does not jump up on me, but does lift her front paw to get my attention.
She has laid down on her side/back and allowed me to rub her chest and
tummy - which she seems to LOVE.
She seems a bit hyper at times and when I rub her tummy, I do it very
slowly, which seems to calm her.
She is not as ticklish as Sally - very little hind leg kicking when I
pet various parts.
Patty is a sweet dog.
But....
She has some issues.
1 - she cannot stand to be away from me.
If I leave her alone in the back yard for longer than five minutes,
she tries to get out.
I have seen her trying to climb over my low gate (to go where?)
2 - she is hot natured.
She pants like a freight train (steam).
All night.
I fixed a little fan for her in the dining room and she laid in front
of it for a few minutes off and on, but she preferred to sleep next to
my bed.
I turned on the ceiling fan for us, which, no doubt, helped a little.
3 - She has allergies.
Evidently, Patty is allergic to my carpet. (or something....)
She spent the night gnawing and scratching herself.
At first I thought it was left-over fleas but her fur is pure white
down to her pink and tan skin.
I have not seen a single flea on her.
When she is in the kitchen for a while or outside, she does not scratch as much.
It occurred to me this morning that Patty may be an "Inside" dog.
Sally was an outside dog from her third day with me as a puppy.
She liked being inside with me, but she was happy to play and sleep in
the backyard all day and night, hot, cold, rain, snow, whatever, with just visits inside at meal time.
This was changing (spending more time inside as she matured), but I
think she would have always preferred to be outside most of the time.
Patty is very well behaved inside.
She does not try to climb on the furniture/bed, she does not try to
play with my clothes, she has not wet or plopped in the house (yet).
More later.
My nights sleep amounted to about three or four hours.
Hers must have been about the same.
At midnight she seemed like she wanted to play.
Midnight is not my play time.
She loves my attention. (duh).
She does not lick me - not face, not hands - she nuzzles with her
nose. (using her nose, she wiggled it into my relaxed hand and moved
my fingers so that I would scratch her)
She does not jump up on me, but does lift her front paw to get my attention.
She has laid down on her side/back and allowed me to rub her chest and
tummy - which she seems to LOVE.
She seems a bit hyper at times and when I rub her tummy, I do it very
slowly, which seems to calm her.
She is not as ticklish as Sally - very little hind leg kicking when I
pet various parts.
Patty is a sweet dog.
But....
She has some issues.
1 - she cannot stand to be away from me.
If I leave her alone in the back yard for longer than five minutes,
she tries to get out.
I have seen her trying to climb over my low gate (to go where?)
2 - she is hot natured.
She pants like a freight train (steam).
All night.
I fixed a little fan for her in the dining room and she laid in front
of it for a few minutes off and on, but she preferred to sleep next to
my bed.
I turned on the ceiling fan for us, which, no doubt, helped a little.
3 - She has allergies.
Evidently, Patty is allergic to my carpet. (or something....)
She spent the night gnawing and scratching herself.
At first I thought it was left-over fleas but her fur is pure white
down to her pink and tan skin.
I have not seen a single flea on her.
When she is in the kitchen for a while or outside, she does not scratch as much.
It occurred to me this morning that Patty may be an "Inside" dog.
Sally was an outside dog from her third day with me as a puppy.
She liked being inside with me, but she was happy to play and sleep in
the backyard all day and night, hot, cold, rain, snow, whatever, with just visits inside at meal time.
This was changing (spending more time inside as she matured), but I
think she would have always preferred to be outside most of the time.
Patty is very well behaved inside.
She does not try to climb on the furniture/bed, she does not try to
play with my clothes, she has not wet or plopped in the house (yet).
More later.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Testing The Waters For A New Dog
No, I have not died.
Just busy, and not much to say.
What follows is my report to my sister on my visit to a rescue kennel to inquire about a Great Pyrenees dog.
…...................................
I just got back from the SPCA Kennel in Pisgah, Alabama.
It is about 80 miles away.
I met "Perl". (her name given by the kennel).
I went into her "cage" and sat on the floor by the gate, Perl stayed
outside in her little area.
She wagged her tail tentatively but would not come closer than about 12 feet.
She has a very raspy bark, but did not bark very much.
The manager/lady gave me some doggy snacks to use to entice Perl to
come nearer to me.
I sat there for about an hour and she (the dog) would come no closer
to me than about three feet, and then only to quietly pick up the
treat and take it outside to eat it.
Finally, I gave up.
The dog was obviously sweet and wanted to engage, but was scared or
shy and was uncomfortable around me/stranger/male(?).
If I lived closer and could come over every day or so for a week, I
felt that we could gradually bond, but that was not possible with the
distance as it is.
The manager offered to bring the dog into the lobby.
I agreed.
She said I would have to help her carry the big dog through the rear
kennel area to the lobby.
I agreed (suspicious that the dog, who did not want to engage me alone
would allow me to touch her and carry her hind end).
But the dog allowed us to pick her up and carry her into the lobby
with no problems.
Once she was in the lobby she was a different dog.
Her tail wagged off and on, she sniffed around a bit (there were
several cats in cages in there).
The lady broke out some kind of doggy snack that looked like a baby
hot dog. (different from what she gave me in the kennel)
She fed Perl a couple of bites then she gave it to me and I broke off
a bite and offered it to the dog.
She ate it out of my hand immediately.
Soon, Perl was allowing me to pet her (gently) all over her. (head,
ears, neck, chest, back, hips, etc)
She had a serious case of fleas, but was otherwise in good shape.
She does NOT like a leash and wants to pull away when one gets put on her.
But Perl was well behaved even when distressed.
She reminds me of Sally in her coloring.
I told the lady that I wanted to think about whether to take her or not.
In anticipation of a possible transfer, the lady took Perl into the
washing area to give her a bath (she needed it...)
Just before she took the dog into the wash area, Perl was standing
next to me, with her head pressing against the side of my leg,
allowing me scratch her head and ears. (was this a "bond"?)
While the lady sprayed the shampoo on the dog, she stood quietly in the wash area,
enduring her bath.
I am scared to take this animal.
I am not sure why.
It is clear that she needs some training and some time to adjust from
a bad beginning, but she is clearly a sweet animal with a calm
disposition.
I argue with myself - what's not to like?
All we need is some time.
As much as I wanted to treat Sally right, I feel a double
responsibility to rehabilitate "Perl" if I were to adopt her.
We do not know all that she went through as a puppy other than she was starved.
At the best, she was just neglected.
She has no scars to indicate any worse treatment.
This weighs on me - irrationally, I suspect.
The good news is, dogs don't expect much others.
…..................................
Stay tuned....
Just busy, and not much to say.
What follows is my report to my sister on my visit to a rescue kennel to inquire about a Great Pyrenees dog.
…...................................
I just got back from the SPCA Kennel in Pisgah, Alabama.
It is about 80 miles away.
I met "Perl". (her name given by the kennel).
I went into her "cage" and sat on the floor by the gate, Perl stayed
outside in her little area.
She wagged her tail tentatively but would not come closer than about 12 feet.
She has a very raspy bark, but did not bark very much.
The manager/lady gave me some doggy snacks to use to entice Perl to
come nearer to me.
I sat there for about an hour and she (the dog) would come no closer
to me than about three feet, and then only to quietly pick up the
treat and take it outside to eat it.
Finally, I gave up.
The dog was obviously sweet and wanted to engage, but was scared or
shy and was uncomfortable around me/stranger/male(?).
If I lived closer and could come over every day or so for a week, I
felt that we could gradually bond, but that was not possible with the
distance as it is.
The manager offered to bring the dog into the lobby.
I agreed.
She said I would have to help her carry the big dog through the rear
kennel area to the lobby.
I agreed (suspicious that the dog, who did not want to engage me alone
would allow me to touch her and carry her hind end).
But the dog allowed us to pick her up and carry her into the lobby
with no problems.
Once she was in the lobby she was a different dog.
Her tail wagged off and on, she sniffed around a bit (there were
several cats in cages in there).
The lady broke out some kind of doggy snack that looked like a baby
hot dog. (different from what she gave me in the kennel)
She fed Perl a couple of bites then she gave it to me and I broke off
a bite and offered it to the dog.
She ate it out of my hand immediately.
Soon, Perl was allowing me to pet her (gently) all over her. (head,
ears, neck, chest, back, hips, etc)
She had a serious case of fleas, but was otherwise in good shape.
She does NOT like a leash and wants to pull away when one gets put on her.
But Perl was well behaved even when distressed.
She reminds me of Sally in her coloring.
I told the lady that I wanted to think about whether to take her or not.
In anticipation of a possible transfer, the lady took Perl into the
washing area to give her a bath (she needed it...)
Just before she took the dog into the wash area, Perl was standing
next to me, with her head pressing against the side of my leg,
allowing me scratch her head and ears. (was this a "bond"?)
While the lady sprayed the shampoo on the dog, she stood quietly in the wash area,
enduring her bath.
I am scared to take this animal.
I am not sure why.
It is clear that she needs some training and some time to adjust from
a bad beginning, but she is clearly a sweet animal with a calm
disposition.
I argue with myself - what's not to like?
All we need is some time.
As much as I wanted to treat Sally right, I feel a double
responsibility to rehabilitate "Perl" if I were to adopt her.
We do not know all that she went through as a puppy other than she was starved.
At the best, she was just neglected.
She has no scars to indicate any worse treatment.
This weighs on me - irrationally, I suspect.
The good news is, dogs don't expect much others.
…..................................
Stay tuned....
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