Who has the Best Communication Skills

Tink, my three year old Norfolk terrier cross, had been intently looking into my eyes trying hard to tell me what was wrong. How do I know this? I just do a hundred little detailed signs that we use without thinking, shout out to me and let me know she is poorly and in pain.

Researchers and scientists say us humans are the only ones to have complicated speech and in-depth reasoning and I wonder who comes up with these ideas. That sort of lack of understanding and arrogance has led us into trouble and has stopped us from finding a multitude of things from nature. She may think a little differently that does not mean to say she is wrong and I should not listen to her.

Humans have speech because we have simply evolved that way. But we do not all use the same language. Even after many years evolving still some of us do not communicate very well, even with the power of our vocal cords. Animals are no different from us, in that some are ordinary and some are extraordinary.

If a person is bereft of human contact from birth they no longer have the ability or inclination of speech and find other ways of communicating. It does not mean they have a lesser capacity for reasoning, empathy or learning it just means they used other skills to survive. It may also mean they are very happy just the way they are. So looking on the matter from that view point, I assume speech is a learnt behaviour rather than a unique ability. Every animal on the planet communicates by sense of smell, posture, eyes, and facial expressions. Silent communicators such as the deaf have been ignored or labelled as retarded by the hearing, simply because we do not understand their voice. Is it the others fault we cannot understand their communicating rituals?

Many years ago I watched a program about a man that had spent many months interacting with dolphins. He made friends and had a close bond with a particular young one in the pod. On the day he was due to leave a storm blew up and the man became worried over the safety of this young dolphin.

Now I thought, let me get this straight, he thinks these sea mammals, whose families have lived in the sea for generations, who could communicate by radar clicks, snorts and body posture with possibly a whole spectrum of other ways of communicating and learning we are not aware of and this man assumed they didn’t know or communicate with each other about their own environment? The man was loving and caring and in his field a leading scientist, a very clever man but also very stupid.

He talked in raptures about his concern for this poor animal that could be torn to shreds on rocks in the storm and if this land mammal didn’t rescue him would be sure to perish. Many times he got hold of that young dolphins fin to lead him to safety. Eventually he listened to the dolphin who took him to his pleasure park of water currants that acted like theme park slides. The sea mammal gave the land mammal a marvellous time. Exhilarated over his experience he verbally expressed his shear delight. The dolphin no doubt bemused, swam away. This has always amused me and shown me how arrogant our naivety can be.

With foreign people we just shout at them thinking this will help or speaking very slowly distorting the words sounds that they do not recognise all in a vein hope that this will help. It has been scientifically proven that we look at people’s demeanour and facial expressions but we are not aware of it. Animals are far better at this then us so who really has more communication skills?

If we cannot understand their language how can we be sure their language is not as complex as humans? Take the whales they communicate over miles and with different pods. How do we know they are not talking about the weather or the smith pod’s children that are out of control and taking more than their fair share of plankton?

We put animals through tests of our reasoning and forget to explain why or why they should be bothered. Would we perform these tasks to aliens of higher intelligence? I am assuming they would have a higher intelligence as they got here first, but I could be wrong. It could be that they hit on a quicker way to travel sooner than us but are of the same average IQ.

Let’s face it some people in our world use a tree trunk canoe and have a full and happy life even more so than a scientist on a fully equipped power boat, possibly with a higher IQ too. If we bumped into the man in his tree trunk canoe and took our time and listen to him, we would no doubt learn a thing or two.  

I listened to Tink and took her to the vets and she has just had her second operation to remove a follicle cyst. She is feeling much happier and has just dropped a ball on my foot, her daughter looked at us both and seising the opportunity, picked up her fluffy toy and flung it in the air, I guess its playtime.

Yes Tink I'm now going to play, she wonders over to the door, 'Oh you want to go out?' she sits on the floor 'Oh a Walk?' I get a waggy tail. Walk it is then she jumps up and liks me.

Old man and his pup

The day my dad came to see the pups I knew and hoped

We took Rip, one of Tink’s pups, to my dads on Sunday to start his new life. One man and his dog stood there in that back garden and I must say it was like my dad had become whole again. In that moment I had given my dad back his past and at the same time his future. As a boy he would go hunting with his dog to feed his brothers and sisters, man and dog working together to bring back something for the pot. Dogs have been a big part of his life. We had a gentle golden retriever named Prince that was as regal as his name suggests who got my dad through my brother’s illness and suicide. But it was Rip, a tan and white Jack Russell that my dad named this little fella after.

            Rip was tenacious when needed but mostly laid back and a joy to be with. As a small girl he was my best friend, living in a small village of twenty seven houses he was my only friend. I was the original Billy No Mates by destination, if not personality. He saved me from at least two situations that I will be eternally grateful for.

            The first was a certain attack by a feral Alsatian. I wanted to help the dog, he looked worst for wear and needed a good feed but he didn’t trust me, I could see that. As he slinked his way over, with his ears pricked up and eyes fixed on me, Rip was having none of it and started to growl, as I turned to tell Rip to quieten down the dog lunged forward. Rip caught him and latched on to his gonads and would not let go despite the surprised and big dogs best efforts. With every tactic he used to get Rip off, came a fresh yelp. This continued until they were out of sight. I will never forget the cry of that poor dog as he ran with Rip still latched on, both of them jumping down the road, one in pain and the other trying to hold on for all he was worth. I still am astounded at the sight of it and the way Rip just would not let go even though it must have been painful for him. He could hardly reach the big dog’s soft undercarriage and had to bounce on his back legs to keep up.

            The second time was when I was on my own in the house and there was a knock on the back door. I lived in a line of six council houses in the middle of nowhere. No one I knew came to the back door and at first I thought it was one of my brothers larking about. But there was something in Rips stance that made me wary. I tucked Rip under my arm opened the door ready to give my brothers what for, when I looked to see who it was I stood paralysed to the spot. A strange man stood there. I can’t say why I was afraid of him but I was. The man rambled on about something, while he looked at me and I recoiled from him. Rip never took his eyes off the man’s throat; I could feel every muscle in that little dog tense up. The stare went from me to Rip, who was in prim position to jump on the man. Rip never showed his teeth and I couldn’t say he was snarling but there was a low rumble, deep and menacing. The man asked me quite pleasantly to put the dog down. When I refused he said he would tell my dad about that, with which I replied ‘That’s OK mister I’ll be telling him you called at the back door’. All of a fluster the man left.

            Now I have no idea if the man meant me any harm, we weren’t taking any chances in finding that out but the man never came back. From then on I used Rip as my people barometer and learnt to trust my instincts. I shudder when I look back on that day the possibilities are endless, none of which are pleasant.

            When ever one of our dogs died, our dad would find it hard to get over the loss. We would have to wait years before we had another enter our home. This time it took my dad a decade or more to contemplate it again, with reasons of time constraints a dog can place on you, then of course was his age, he is now seventy seven, was it faire to take on a dog when you are getting on in years. I always told him that that’s exactly when you needed a dog the most. They get you out and about keeping you active. A dog walker could come in, if it ever became a problem or we could get one of those mobility scooters Angus would love that. I would be there if he needed help.

            The pull of this puppy took him back into his past and gave him a positive look to the future, with his granddaughters encouraging him to take it on (poor man didn’t stand a chance once the girls had made up their minds).

        Dad has been thinking about the walks he will be able to take Rip on; there is nothing like daily walks for your emotional and physical constitution and the nature he would see, would mean that my dad would never stops learning, he has an inquisitive mind.  What with training the little dog, showing him off and having the comfort of his company, will keep his spirits youthful and his brain active but most of all the mischief. What the old boy and dog will get up to brings a broad smile on my face and warmth in my heart. My mum (not renowned for being a dog lover) is looking forward to it all too, mostly cuddles on the sofa, just hope he leaves their shirts intact the other Rip had a thing about buttons on shirts.

Wonder what they are up to?

            Will keep you posted.

My How the pups have grown

The first two stages of a puppies life may appear to be non eventful at first the puppy flounders about a kin to a turtle on dry land, trying to suckle and then flopping into what appears to be a deep coma. Soon though, it starts to hold its head up and slowly the eyes open giving them a distorted view on their surroundings. In these four weeks the pups are confined to the den so their eyes need to be protected from light.

            But these four weeks are fascinating though, if you look closely at the bitch and the pups interaction. Intensely in-tune the bitch has an innate clock that I soon became part of. I got to know when she would want to rush outside and do the necessary and then get back to her pups. When she would need feeding and when she needed some well deserved fuss.

            Tink had this come see expression; even at the birth, she encouraged me to take part and never minded the children’s respectful presence. She would proudly look as we cooed and marvelled at the new arrivals. With every change her pups went through she would use that intense stare to encourage me to look closer at her offspring and take note. I came down one morning to that intent look and found that Amber’s eyes were open. We had to wait a further two days for Rips to slowly get bigger until they finally opened. Their little pug noses lengthened to reveal their muzzle as they grew into their faces. They sniffed us intently getting to know our sent.

            The next four weeks had them going from a tummy shuffle movement to walking slightly unsteady, curious but hesitant, to full on rumbles with each other and mum. Slowly they explored the ever widening world around them. Attacking feet with needle like teeth. Anything on the floor was fair game and squeaky toys a must have whether anyone else has it or not. Pouncing was being perfected and the very first tries ended up with the puppy on its back. I started to put liquidised food down for them increasing the lumps as I went, until I found them devouring their mother’s food. Tink sat there watching them ironically bemused by this event she then turned her gaze to me. Moving slowly over to the pups bowl she feeds silently on her own wondering why her pups don’t appreciate good food.

            Towards the end of the eighth week you can begin to get a good idea of their personalities, traits and how best to influence their training. It is worth remembering that every sound and object is unusual and quite freighting to them. In Rips case so are shadows, he learnt a good barking technique at shadows.

            I started to take the pups to school in the car right from the word go. Now this is not something I would recommend and in truth I didn’t like doing but Tink was insistent. She would run to the car and back again getting more and more agitated that I was not doing as I was told. From then on in we took the pups. I used a carrier crate to keep them safe and put a lot of bedding in to keep them warm.

            Training came into play at an early stage. At around five weeks, as they make their way towards me I clap my hands encouraging them and when they reach me I gave a lot of praise as they got older a treat was always waiting for them. When ever I took them out ‘to be clean’ as soon just as they achieved a wee or a number two I would reinforce with ‘clean boy/ clean girl’. Now as we trot out side I always call out ‘come be clean’.

            For meeting and greeting purposes I would put the pups in an old handbag to keep them warm and safe but they all too soon got too heavy so now I have adapted an old stroller so that I can tie the pups in and they can see Tink on her walks. I have also been walking them around the garden with their leads on and mum in front so they can see what to do. As with everything you do when teaching timing is always important, putting the lead on in a quiet and calm manner is never easy and very time consuming but it will pay you back in dividends later on when they just go through the ritual. Today I will be putting them in a harness in the car so they can sit with mum and taking them to school that way. I wonder what Tink will think to this and of course how will the pups cope. I will let you know

Waiting for the Pups



Tink Just before the birth of her pups

Has the time come yet? I keep asking myself but I guess I will only know for sure when the puppies have arrived. So I just sat and waited, not allowed to move too far from Tink’s side as she nudges my hand to where she wants to be stroked. For days now this waiting game has been going on, ever since I had the scare. We were walking in the morning sunlight with a big teddy bear of a lab and his human, having a very pleasant time, when out of the corner of my eye I saw what looked like a sack hanging from Tink. Well I tried to encourage Tink to walk faster and in the direction of the car but she was defiantly not of the mind to do so.

            Like I said you only know for sure once it’s all over and you look back and only then can you see all the signs and forget all the ones you took heed over but never came to anything.

            I was playing the waiting game, ever ready and vigilant trying to be patient, as she paced always restless unless I was stroking her tummy or she was near my feet. This time nearly six years ago I was waiting for Angus to arrive so I marvel at what looked and felt like a bundle of rocks moving in her stretched tummy. I must say I’m very glad I only had one baby at a time.

            As the birds sang in the spring and dandelions scattered the yet to be cut lawn life bursting from every place you looked at and I must say I was missing our walks, you just can’t beat a good walk at this time of year.         

            I slept down stairs a couple of nights around her due date and contemplated taking her temperature every few hours so I could notice the change thus predicting the birth within twelve hours or so. Looking at Tink and thinking about how I felt about intervention when I was giving birth, I decided that it was best to look and listen to nature. So on the 26^th March I looked intently at a sprightly Tink before I went to bed. She took herself off to bed and went to sleep. Reassured I did the same. That Sunday morning I woke with a start, jumped out of bed and as soon as I opened the kitchen door Tink raced to her bed but didn’t get in. I took her bed to her favourite place in the living room and wheeled the little radiator (which I had got to keep the pups warm) in. She jumped in her bed, waited for my hand and then relaxed.

            I was there for the long haul, after all these things can take time. Not with Tink though within minutes she had given birth to the first pup. Her job she had looked at me and told me was done now it was my turn. I waited a while for her innate mothering instinct to kick in but nothing doing. So I broke the sack and presented the head of the pup to her and as though someone had switched on the power Tink took over. She swallowed the placenta giving the right distance between pup and where the cord should be cut. The cord was tough and as she chewed I held the pup ready to catch so it did not drop to the floor and between us we did an ok job. Tink was not happy with the jaded edges of the cord though. She looked at me and i at her and we both notted that we should do better next time. The little girl was a good size and soon found her mum’s milk.

           

 I rang Axl to get down and to wake the rest of the family up. I knew I could rely on him to have his phone by his ear even when sleeping. By the time they had got to us the second pup was on its way and with a serenity and reverence the little boy entered the world at 7.30. I was feeding Tink ice-cream not any ice-cream Oh no it was made with cornish clotted cream, that would give her strength and aid milk production. She lovingly looked on surprised and proud of her little brood. They were big strong pups but I thought there could be more so I was careful when she asked to go out side, running around with her on a load and boy did she run fast to get back to her pups!

I rang the vet to make sure I was doing the right thing in waiting and he was as excited as I was, reassuring me that everything sounded as if all was ok, just be vigilant and if she strains for any length of time or I felt in the least concerned then just ring back.

            All of us had a wonderful day just mesmerised by the wonder of it all and we still are, although now the pups have teeth, Tink has lost some of the wonder. The day after the birth I took her to the vets as I was expecting a lot more yucky stuff, she was given an x-ray to make sure she was clear (this is the only time Tink cried or got upset but as soon as she was back with the pups she was a happy mum again) and the pup’s the once over by a very excited vet. The vet and Tink cooed and kissed the pups making sure they were ok. I looked on with a huge smile on my face.

                       

I know Tink, you do the hard work and they just sleep on!

we all have puppy love in our house

when a bitch is in pup and the bitch is a much loved pet you become the birthing partner



Tink likes to be by my feet while I work



So how is Tink doing? Oh she is fine it’s me that you need to worry about. There is a lot more to this birthing partner business than you would think.

There are some breeders that have to have full control, with scans and thermometers to predict how many puppies and as the body temperature drops this lets you know birth is going to take place fairly soon. Talking to the vet and reading a fair amount on the internet with everyone’s views duly considered I took the approach that my vet advised me, to have less intervention and closer bonding.

            Tink would not make a fuss at having a cold implement shoved where the sun don’t shine but I know she would sit down a lot while I tried to take her temperature and look round with the expression of ‘Honestly, you really going to do that again, what is your problem’. But I must admit that knowing how many puppies would be an advantage. But from my personal experience scans can only be a guide (I was carrying twins and they could not see the second twin, how on earth can they tell if there are five or six pups?). So the stress for us to have these procedures out weighs the possible gains.

            So, even more than ever I’m tuning into Tink's energy. It really is like the old fashioned radio, you know like the ones with the dials that you keep going back and forth feeling the vibrations until you know you have it right. I’m always on the look out for a change in her frequency.

            Well it came to last Tuesday night (8^th March 2011) just under seven weeks gestation and I noticed that Tink's posture had changed, not uncomfortable but more unwell. I looked at her gums and they looked paler, skin of a salmon, normally they would be a pink candy floss colour. Well I went straight to my laptop and googled, there were three possibilities. Low blood pressure (would go with pregnancy and due to give birth, though this was a little early) the reflux in her gums was good though (when pushed down they soon went back to original colour) so I ruled that out. Preeclampsia, due to too much calcium given in the diet, I was told by the vet to give her puppy food and cottage cheese, well there were a lot of scare stories on google etc. about how wrong this is. I took the view that dogs are as individual as people are and for some they may need this and some it may cause problems. It didn’t feel that this was the right explanation though. The third possibility was dehydration, this seemed more likely, so there I am on the floor at nine at night feeding a reluctant Tink ice cubes. Once she had taken the first one there was no stopping her and I knew I was on the right track.

            The Next day I bumped into the Owner of www.happydogdays.co.uk which I do quite often when out walking and asked her advice. She immediately put my mind at ease and gave me some advice on how to get Tink interested in food again. So I rushed home and made rice with broccoli to keep the iron in her diet but not the calcium. Not any old rice, oh no, not for my Tink ;-) but wild rice to give texture and aid digestion none the less. I gave a little home cooked chicken (so no added salt will be given) and pushed it into the rest of the food as Tink is partial to my lemon and garlic chicken. Kev was looking forward to his chicken sandwich which always follows a roast and was bitterly disappointed, he’ll get over it, eventually.

She warms my feet

             Well six very small meals later with ice each time and the colour has come back a little and Tink has a little of her old spring back; was going to say spring in her step but she can’t manage that due to being too big. Now everyone, animal or human is treated this way when they come into my care and for those of you that have kept up with my blog and know me as a writer or personally, will be waiting for the fluffy fairy bit as my flight of fancy takes off. So here it is.

             

            Well talking to two friends the other day who were asking how Tink was getting on, I thought I would have a little bit of a laugh, recounting some of the things I find myself doing from time to time for the welfare of my little fluffy pooch. There is nothing better than seeing friends laugh. I then recounted happenings of last year that I keep threatening Kev with, a dog’s buggy! Let me explain.

            We were walking along Felixstowe prom one summer last year when Kev did a double take and exclaimed some people take things too far. Looking around to see what caused this reaction. I saw a Pug sitting proudly in a blue dog’s buggy, with its owners like proud parents pushing it along. Taking in the full scene, I noted the couple were elderly and had three other small breed dogs trotting along with them. On closer inspection I saw the Pug was old but obviously getting a great deal of pleasure from sniffing the air and being out and about. I said nothing and just smiled.

            A little later we sat eating our ice creams when I told him I could see no wrong in having a buggy for a dog. His expression was priceless as a mixture of, you need a reality check and where oh where did that come from, burst from his face as he chocked on his ice-cream. Just when you think you know someone his eyes told me they go and say something outrageous.

            Look I said as the elderly couple went slowly past. The poor old pug would never be able to keep up with the others I explained, what choice do they have? Leave the old one home alone? Or put it in a buggy and just as I said this they took the Pug out and let it have a little wonder. It was everything a Tilly moment should be and will keep it as a little treasure to get out when we are old.

            ‘Well’ I said to my friends but they already knew what was coming.

‘Your not’ said Judith, Sue was looking at me giggling.

‘Well’ I said ‘it would make sense, wouldn’t like to leave the pups behind and Tink needs her walks.’ At this point I was joking but now I come to think of it until the pups are 12 weeks, they should not be put on the floor for the fear of them picking up Parvovirus disease before they can be vaccinated, but need good socialising. The children at Angus’s school would love to see her pups and Tink loves to see the children, so perhaps I should give this some thought and invest in a dog’s buggy, what do you think?



She is sooo worth it x



Tink an up-date.

I’m no expert and I don’t want to go rummaging around to find out but if being off her food, not wanting to walk too far and her pacing me to the sofa at every given opportunity so that she can get herself comfortable on me is anything to go by, then yes, I think she is in pup!!

When I make a coffee at lunch time she wines at the living room door and when I open it so that she can go in, she stands at the door and looks deep within me and waits for me to understand. She considers it my duty to come and spend some time with her; after all it’s my fault she is in this predicament! I feel this vibe very strongly! Not normally stopping for lunch, it took me a couple of days to get the message but with her perseverance I have gained the enlightenment and I must say it has been a wonderful and therapeutic time for me.

I knew it was my duty to make sure that I have good homes for the pups, that I take every precaution to breed a healthy brood and I have. Meticulously going through every piece of advice ensuring that I understand it and when I’m given conflicting advice that I, think it through and do the best I can. What I had not anticipated was this strong feeling of empathy.

I hated being pregnant, it neither felt natural or comfortable and the sickness was not just in the mornings but 24/7. Tink is not just off her food but not eating at all!!!! I understand her reluctance to eat, I remember it well. I had this desperate craving for chocolate mouse, knowing it was going to resurface was none to pleasant either but the need to eat them was so strong I could not deny it. A few moments of pleasure for an hour or two of hell never seemed worth it but there, such is life. I have found a few ingenious ways to get her to eat a little and am hoping that soon her need to feed her growing pups, will take over and that her sickness will soon subside.

Then there is her effort to get up and bearing in mind the pups aren’t even showing yet and things are going to get worse is playing on my mind. I remember feeling my body had been taking over by an alien when I was first pregnant and the looks she gives me with those deep toffee eyes, I can see she feels the same, though much stronger as she has five/six little aliens growing inside her.

Taking time out of my day to fulfil her needs, looking at her changing ways and body, does give me a sense of wonder. Just by eye contact, looking at her demeanour, feeling the energy that pass between us and observing, it is surprising how much you can understand and communicate without words. This for me is the reason I love dogs so much, not the unconditional love they can give me but the way they make me look at life.

I feel this understanding would work with teenagers and toddlers alike. If we stopped looking at them as pre-programmable adults and just took time to breath deeply, observe and feel the energy that passes through us and them, perhaps our communication skills would be greatly improved along with our lives. It’s just a pity it doesn’t work with husbands, I have tried. Oh I can understand him and his needs but there is only one look he understands/takes notice of . I only have two types of energy apparently; angry or happy and nothing in-between gets noticed. Our communication is fine he would say, I understand him, what more do I want?

Someone to visit me in my goldfish bowl for a change?

Mr Spring and the Jelly debate.

Mr Spring was a gamekeeper that I lived next to when I was growing up and I have written a few times about him in my blog (My Humble tribute and Twenty Men). He was tall, muscular and intimidating; as his blue eyes challenged you with a tinge of mockery.  When I grew to an age where the intimidation stopped being so threatening and became part of the fun of talking to him, we started debating issues that we both thought were fun.

Mr Spring’s wife had always kept a dog in the house but they always went to his shoots. Mr Spring thought that living in the house ruined the dog, made them soft and harder to work with. Amber was a boarder terrier of renown and as we sat there I felt rather indignant at this widely held belief throughout the shooting fraternity and thought he and they were wrong. We both agreed to blame it on the difference of the sexes.

Mr Springs very male approach to the matter was that if you gave too much of anything the clear rules and lines of acceptance are blurred any blurring makes the dog unable to focus on the job in the field. He said this as he was feeding Amber a jelly!

It now makes me smile at my arrogance, after all, I was living in London and had never fully trained a dog or wholly been responsible for one but I didn’t let this deter me. I gently reminded him that Amber had always been in the house and followed Mrs Spring everywhere and a better foxing dog could not be found. I could see in his eyes the dawning of this revelation. My thoughts were, that this was because a woman can give boundaries while in a home environment, men find this hard and I also thought that women can manage their feelings better. Its not the dogs fault the male handler finds it hard to love and discipline at the same time and I bet that the reason; on the whole, why after their dogs death a family find it hard to have another take its place, is because the men of the family can’t cope with the loss. Women are more able to grieve than men and so we are perceived weaker, when in reality we can grieve and move on better than our male counterparts. Anyhow I finished off, it may because you feed Amber too much jelly and she can’t move so well. He winked at me, as he fed her his biscuit of his plate.

In counter argument he announced with an even bigger twinkle in his crystal blue eyes (I brace myself for the battle of the sexes). When coming across a woman protester against blood sports shouting at him, he quietly and respectfully asked her whether she thought she was any better, stopping her in her tracks.

Not privy to the scene I quickly made a mental picture of it in my minds eye. Wooded area of idyllic tranquillity, beaters getting ready with their dogs Mr. Spring cap adorned and camouflage jacket and kaki waffle scarf protecting him from the bitter chill. Middle aged woman, towards retiring age stops car gets out ‘Skirt a swinging’ leaving five dogs in the back of the car barking excitedly while she was telling him how wrong he was.

When she asked him ‘what on earth do you mean by that? How could she in any way be likened to him and his antics’ (And at this point his broad smile could not get any bigger) He recounted to me what he had said. Five dogs in any car were too many but in a small car such as hers was fool hard for their safety and that of any other road user. ‘My dear lady’ I can hear his clear no nonsense voice still. Your dogs have been bread to chase pray. He had explained. The whippet for rabbits, your two Jack Russell’s for rats and such like, your lovely retriever, you are denying its right to retrieve and your two fox terriers for foxing. Apparently she was under the elution that because the terriers were small dogs that they didn’t need as much exercise as big dogs, so only took the small ones out occasionally. She was soon put straight by Mr Spring who went into great detail of why terriers are so revered by the shooting community. Their stamina and tenacity coupled with their daredevil approach to life, they most certainly needed a good five mile walk a day as they were kept at the heel of the farmer or ran and kept up with the horse and hounds. I asked him what she had said in reply, he laughed aloud and said they had spent a happy lunchtime talking about dogs and she viewed them a little differently, the dogs he hastened to add ‘not me you understand’ he winked at me ‘I’m still a barbarian’. We both laughed at that.

As we sat by the side of his fire, warm and cosy with Amber now on my lap I had enjoyed immensely the telling of the story and I asked him if he also told her that they can make good fireside companions. On cue Amber went back to her master and liked his face.

This poem is to all of us who have loved our pets.

The day I Lost my Shadow

I lost my shadow to-day

I noticed when I hung out the washing

A void that will not be filled

A presence so soft

A nudge so gentle

I noticed again when I walked

As I have walked

A million or more times before

A flicker of my shadow

I thought I saw

But my shadow

Bless her, is no more

My constant companion

Our linked and entwined soles

Shared space

Moments of peace

Solace in madness

She calmed my day

A wet cold nose

Meant time to sit and cose

At night when our home is quiet

Meant my shadow was waiting

A coffee for me

A bone for her

She would watch the kettle with interest

And concern if I walked away

A whimper ment she had waited too long

My shadow would pace me

To the sofa

Our rightful place

Though the void seems endless

The day my shadow

Laid down and to me was lost

I knew

I had truly been

Blessed

X

Tink and Paddy

Tink came into season out of the blue, as often happens. All the studs I had lined up for her for one reason or another fell through. So what to do? I trawled through the internet went on walks and then I found Paddy. As he lived an hour away and the window in which Tink would be fertile is small, we didn’t have time to meet him before. So we went on her tenth day ( her most fertile time we hoped) to meet Paddy and his owner for the first time and to do the deed; if we were all satisfied and happy to go ahead. I was a little apprehensive but Victoria was great and Paddy was a star. If dogs could fall in love these two did.

            Now picture the scene: - Idyllic location in Suffolk, small enclosed dog kennel and three grown women looking on with embarrassment at two dogs mating, several times! You have to stay with them as the dogs stay attached for a while and this is less painful if they keep still. Victoria and I took it in turns to cradle the two dogs while this happened.
Paddy is a handsome Jack Russell, of about eleven inches high, making him the same height as Tink and looked a lot like Rip, (my first real dog experience and best friend when i was growing up), so I fell in love with Paddy too. Small dogs get a bad press about being snappy and possessive. Though I think their behaviour is more to do with the fact their owners seem to let them get away with a lot more than big dogs can and very often people put their un-wanted behaviour down to breed type rather than owner responsibility. Breed types have been made so that aptitudes are strengthened for certain jobs but if the handler lets the dog constantly bark or jump up and nip, then the dog will be unaware that this is wrong. Good, clear and constant boundaries delivered by an understanding and communicative handler gives you a good dog! Regardless of breed! I will climb off this particular soap box but will build it up again soon. Paddy was happy to see us and overjoyed to see Tink.

            After our first meeting with Paddy Tink spent the next two days close to the side door and jumped in the car with excitement but when we came back home she would whine her disappointment. My human heart says that she liked him a lot and I know this to be true, though my handler heart tells me this maybe because she was ready to mate and knows her time is right. Both, I think are correct, no animal or life in general is as one sided or simple as we would like to think and though animals see things differently to us (as we are now finding out with Dolphins) they also have many personalities and responsibilities to others that we don't understand yet. I think us humans are very arrogant; unless an animal or other human understands us, they are at fault and are lesser beings. Oh! Oh! Soapbox alert!!

            So all being well around the 25^th March 2011, this house will be a hive of activity and a mother will go on strike big time for a few months. I can feel Mr Springs smiling eyes look down upon me; my ideas and thoughts always brought a glint to his eyes (if you’re not careful Mr Spring, I will tell them about the jelly, Oh yes I will. Mr Spring and the Jelly to follow shortly, his fault his eyes dared me!)

            The responsibility is great and I know that I will feel this heavily when and if she is in pup but I think for me this is part of growing as a pet owner and human. Now I just have to tell my dad! Mr Spring had blue sparkling eyes that always glinted with challenge, my dad has a big booming voice of reason (his reasoning is the only way and wow betide you if you don’t listen).

 

So what sort of flight of fancy would make a mum go on strike?

This particular “Flight of Fancy” started many years ago when I lived next to a Gamekeeper called Albert Spring. If you have ever walked with a pack of dogs or have seen a handler that rarely raised his voice but communicated; what seemed like telepathically, then you would have this energy imprinted in your being.

            There was Miss Lovelace who walked her three Pekenese of Camberwick Green, Trumpton and Chigley; a Children’s program that still fascinates me and they have a brill web page: - http://trumpton3.homestead.com/TrumptonPt2.html I wanted to be her and have lots of dogs on leads at the same time serenely walking, elegant and in control; easier said than done, I know.

            Then there was Rip; so named because when a pup he had a thing about taking buttons of any shirt left lying around, he was my best friend when I was growing up. He was a little Jack Russell that liked to curl up with socks (specially smelly ones) never had a lead but would follow your heal everywhere until he got bored. We never trained him as such but he blended into family life perfectly.

            These three separate imprints later gave this “Flight of Fancy” wings. The catalyst was the passing of Grace my Lab and our first family dog. Even though all the family wanted the dog the responsibility was soon left at my feet. I have come to realise that I am the facilitator of all my families’ needs, requirements and dreams but when it comes to my dreams or wishes they are made to feel like silly fancies. Well breeding Tink could be seen as a folly; don’t I have enough work to do? They ask, I’m always moaning about it they say. Anyway there are many dogs needing good homes at this time of year, why give yourself the hassle and the worry of pups? I could give many reasons but the main two is that Tinks pups will make ideal first time dogs and a great companion too. She is small and her temperament could not be bettered. Secondly she will teach me how to be a good handler. You see when I’ve been trained up enough I would like to foster dogs and by having this experience I will find out weather the work load will be too much or that I haven’t the aptitude to do this sort of thing.

            Even though I talked endlessly about the fostering scheme to Kev when I had the opportunity to have a dog (well three) Kev said that he knew nothing about it? Perhaps selective hearing plays a part in this one or control? Oh I could so go on about this but, I will refrain; with reluctance! We also had mega problems with the drains here and this meant we couldn’t go through with it. Diggers and gaping holes and dogs are not a good combination. So all summer Tink and I was bereft of the company and all the walks I had planed. My children said I should enjoy the summer and that the whole thing would have been hard work, they were right, I knew the commitment and constraints it would put on them but thought the rewards out weighed them all. They obviously haven’t heard how a load might be best shared. They also questioned whether it was really fair on them as they would love having the dogs around – though it was made quite clear the walking, cleaning would be mine alone as it was my idea – when it was time to give the dogs back they would be sad and they couldn’t deal with that. This is when I decided to go on strike. Why should all the hard work, love and worry be mine alone? Why should I be made to feel guilty?

            So I’ve gone on strike or is it works to rule? When I’m asked - can you just do my hair? Instead of yep, just give me a mo, I now say-you’ll have to wait and you will have to help me out! Anything above and beyond the call of duty is now met with this reply. But Oh boy! This is such hard work. The problem is I’m the facilitator and naturally I would just try to help or sort out any issue arising but at some point I have to realise that their life support is my energy and time and they can breath on their own and do all the necessary, I’m just the easy and safe option with no effort or responsibility on their part needed. Will I ever get my fledglings to fly? Or will I have to kick them out of the comfortable nest? Come back soon to find out.

Sweet Amber eyes herself



Tinkerbell Getting ready!!!



Grace Her Sweet Amber eyes still make me smile



Wish my two girls could have met; they would’ve had so much fun together. They have made me walk and through walking I have gained so much.

It was not my Idea to put the tiara on Grace and I thought she would claw it off within a matter of seconds but she never did, she wore it proudly and her pink top has Princess written on it. Now some of you will say a dog is a dog and I won’t and can’t argue with that, but fun and cute are good for the soul. I have yet to find a totally frivolous outfit for Tink but rest assured I will and will post a pic on my blog when I do.

Off for a walk to see how this year’s buds are coming along and for a spot of contemplation. Have a go yourself take a wonder and a gander. It makes you feel good!

Have fun Tilly x