Pets

Service Dog

/ Ann Coleman / 76 Comments

I’ve always been a helpful dog.  It’s just my nature.  When I see someone in need of assistance, I step right up and offer a helping paw.

Take yesterday, for instance.  Mom and Dad have been complaining for weeks about their internet service.  So yesterday, a technician came to fix it and I was right there, helping.  Even when it meant squeezing in next to his tool box, getting up close and personal, and turning a deaf ear to Dad telling me to get out of the way.  It took us almost three hours, but you know what?  We fixed it! And I know it would have taken much longer without my assistance.

I don’t like to brag about myself, but the truth is, I can help with just about anything.  I help around the house all the time.  Mom likes to keep a clean house, so whenever anyone spills food on the floor, I snarf it right up.  I also rearrange the throw pillows on the sofa from time to time, because she never places them just right.  But most importantly, I make sure our house stays free of pests, especially flies.  If I see a fly in the house, I chase it down until I catch it, even if it means jumping up on a table or crashing into the window blinds.  I’m that dedicated.  Once I catch the fly (and I always catch it eventually), I dispatch it humanely and neatly by eating it.  Flies don’t taste very good, but dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do.

I’m also very helpful in the yard.  I chase away any squirrels, rabbits or chipmunks that wander in before they can eat any of our flowers, and I bark (loudly and persistently) at any dog that goes by just to let them know I’m on duty here.  Constant vigilance is essential in these matters, despite what my parents seem to think.  (They may say they want me to be quiet, but I know that deep down, they’re grateful for my service.)  I also help Mom with her Spring planting by digging holes wherever I think the flowers should go.  She might not always use the holes I’ve dug, but I just know she appreciates the thought.

Still, I think the area where I really shine is childcare.  The grandchildren come over a lot, and when they do, I go to work.  First, I make sure they feel welcome when they walk in the door.  Lots of jumping, whining, excited barking, etc. lets them know just how glad I am they’re here.  But I’m good at other things too.  If they’re putting together a puzzle on the floor, I use my nose to push the pieces around to help them along.  If they’re served some food they don’t want to eat, all they have to do is slip it under the table to me and I dispose of it.  And if they’re throwing a ball around, I’ll chase it down and sometimes even bring it back to them.

Sure, it’s hard work to be so helpful all the time, but I don’t mind.  It’s what I’m good at, and besides….it’s the best way I know to show my family just how much they mean to me.

Love, Finn

Dog Training

/ Ann Coleman / 83 Comments

03FF4508-3450-4F62-A4A1-53B29F66B001I’ve been living with my human family for over three years now, and I have to say that things are going pretty well.  I’m still not allowed up on the furniture (when my parents are around to see it) and they still insist on feeding me dry dog kibble when all I really want is a plate of the same food they’re eating, but overall, I’ve got them pretty well trained. The trick with humans, I’ve discovered, is to let them think they’re training you, when in reality, you’re training them.

Take walks, for instance.  Like all dogs, I love a good walk. Sauntering around the neighborhood with my human in tow is great fun, and I especially like stopping to sniff all the enticing odors along the way.  The first few times Mom took me for a walk, she insisted on keeping up a brisk pace, and seemed irritated when I’d stop to sniff every few feet.  She didn’t understand that investigating all the scents we encounter is how I learn what’s going on in our neighborhood.  How am I supposed to know that the beagle up the street passed stopped by this very same bush if I’m not allowed to smell it thoroughly?  And don’t get me started on all the interesting scents coming from the storm sewer….the stories I could tell!

So I had to teach Mom the importance of letting me stop and sniff on our walks.  It took quite a while, with me pointedly ignoring her tugging on the leash and repeated cries of, “Come on!” before she figured it out.  She still doesn’t let me stop and sniff every single scent, but now she waits patiently when I discover something particularly intriguing, which happens a couple of times per outing.  I heard her bragging to Dad about how she’s taught me to mostly keep moving, and of course I let her believe it.  But the truth is, I’ve taught her to let me stop and sniff.

And while my parents still fill my supper dish with kibble, I’ve taught them to also share their (far superior, in my opinion) food with me.  Again, it took time and lots of patience on my part, but now they both know that whenever they eat something, they have to save a bite of it for me.  And since both of them are fond of their food, I get quite a few “bites” of food every day.  My nickname is Bubbles (due to my bubbly personality) and they actually refer to the tidbits they give me as the “Bubble tax.”  I don’t care what they call it, as long as they pay it.

I’m not sharing this to brag on my success, even though I’ve done a pretty good job of training my parents.  I’m sharing it to give hope to all the other dogs who have just joined their human family and might be a feeling a little frustrated by how slow their new parents are on the uptake.  I want them to know that it takes time and patience to train your humans, but if you stick with it, the rewards are worth it.  Trust me on this…..

Love, Finn

Getting To Know You

/ Ann Coleman / 86 Comments

All relationships have to go through a period of adjustment.  Sort of like the first year of my marriage, when I discovered that my husband not only snored in his sleep, but also had a habit of sleepwalking around the apartment in the middle of the night.  (I woke up to find him fast asleep under the dining room table more than once.)  Or when he realized that the number of meals I actually knew how to cook was rather limited, and had to tell me that even though he loved my beef stroganoff, he’d rather not have it for dinner three nights a week.  Learning to live with someone new always brings a few surprises.

fullsizeoutput_4ff5So it’s probably only natural that I’m still learning a few things about our new dog, Finn.  He’s a Patterdale Terrier mix, and like most terriers, he’s very loving, energetic and determined.  But I’m still waiting to see some sign of the usual terrier intelligence.  He’s not stupid, but if he was human, he’d be a solid “C” student, even with his very best effort.

I have a mental image of my little dog sitting at a school desk,  muttering to himself while working on his math assignment:  “Two plus two?  Okay, that must be four.  Yeah, four.  Now for two plus three.  That’s got to be six.  But what about two plus four?  What could that be?  This is so hard!  Is it time for recess yet?”

Luckily, Finn is a sweet guy who seems to want nothing more than to be with us.  We can usually hear him barking madly when we leave the house, but by the time we return, he’s always curled up in his crate, fast asleep.  He loves to chase the squirrels and rabbits in our back yard, and plays endlessly with his squeaky toys when he’s inside.  He’s slowly (very slowly) learning the ways of our household, and seems quite pleased with himself whenever he earns our praise.

fullsizeoutput_4ff3Finn adores our grandson and is very patient with him, even though our grandson is a toddler who is still learning how to be gentle with dogs.  It probably helps that our grandson is still learning to feed himself and about half of his food ends up on the floor around his high chair.  Finn has figured out that toddlers are an excellent source of extra food, and makes it a point to be nearby whenever the little guy is eating at our house.

I’m still in the process of discovering exactly who Finn is, and what he needs from me.  Sometimes I have to remind myself to be patient when he makes mistakes, such as the other morning when I came downstairs to find him sitting on the kitchen table, calmly looking out the window.  I have to remind myself of how long it took our other dogs to settle into our household routines and learn our household rules, and remember to cut Finn a little slack.

And I’m still keeping an open mind when it comes to Finn’s intelligence.  He does know “sit” and how to come when called, and he never potties inside.  He’s learned that good things come to those who sit underneath high chairs.  But most important of all, he’s figured out how to make us love him and forgive his occasional misdeeds.  Which probably means that he’s just as smart as he needs to be.