I’m always surprised to hear that some people stay cooped up inside all winter. With three very active dogs, I need to get out every day. I would get no rest on the sofa with three dogs bouncing off the walls. They need to run and play off leash to get worn out, so we go out for our daily walk/run no matter the weather. The dogs usually lose weight in the winter because they’re doing the same things, except in the snow. They’re less active when it gets very hot in the summer.

I bought Cayenne a wonderful new dog coat from Duluth Trading this year because she tends to be a freeze baby. We haven’t had much occasion to use the new coat this season, but when the temperature dropped, we were glad to have it. I keep Cay lean because she was born with some minor joint problems and I don’t want extra weight to make them worse. Her leanness and her fine coat make her more sensitive to the cold than the boys. She came from Tennessee and apparently wasn’t made for harsh winters.

Cay loves to run and play in the snow and doesn’t want to miss a thing, but when it’s just time to go out for a potty stop, she makes quick work of doing her business. When she first joined our family, she was even afraid to go out in the dark. She doesn’t like the early morning and late night dark and cold temperatures. She runs right back to the door, willing me to let her back in.

Bandit, on the other hand, stays out to play with the jolly balls in any kind of weather, apparently not noticing crisp cold air or bitter arctic winds. He has a thicker coat, but more importantly, he has focus and a strong work ethic. True to his Australian Cattle Dog ancestry (with middle name “Cattle”, not “Careful”) , he was born to focus on the task at hand, whether it is herding cattle or carrying one jolly ball while herding a second one around the yard. His play is his work and his work is his play, no matter the weather.

Without Bandit, I probably would never find myself playing ball out in the yard at 11 o’clock at night, experiencing the wonders of nighttime. I would have missed the quiet stillness of the night, the amazing clear night skies with astounding arrays of stars, and the bright full moon casting its light across the yard. I would have missed seeing the northern lights and listening to coyotes howling, prompting my own three dogs to join in the song. Without Bandit, I probably wouldn’t spend much time outside at night at all; I likely wouldn’t even know what phase the moon is in.

Chase has a good thick coat to keep him warm. He looks like a cattle dog-collie mix. When we go out, he keeps track of the birds and animals, including the crows that fly overhead and the rabbits that live just outside the fence. More of a border patroller, he checks the perimeters each time he goes out. He uses his nose extensively to keep track of everything in the neighborhood. He has shown me a bald eagle way up in the sky, one that I would have missed without his help. He also notifies me of anything that seems different or out of place, and pesters me until I check it out.

Without my three dogs, I would have missed so much of the day time and night time beauty of winter. No matter the weather, I appreciate what my dogs teach me. I’m comfortable knowing that Omega Fields Omega Canine Shine® and Omega Nuggets™ give them the optimum nutrition they need to cope with the varying weather conditions here in Minnesota. I’m taking good care of them as they are taking good care of me.

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Hurrying from one thing to the next

used to feel good,

Like a person was important and in demand,

like things were happening in one’s life.

But

Hurrying makes one look ahead to the next thing,

Multitask, multitask, multitask

and forget to be here. Now.

Hurrying means there is too much to do and not enough time to think about

why we are trying to get so much done,

and why we don’t have much time to do what we enjoy,

or notice the beauty around us.

Right now.

Why do we honk at the deer in the road, not slowing down,

willing them to leap out of our way?

Why don’t we stop to look,

to be where we are

and appreciate these beautiful creatures

who appeared in the road like an unexpected gift,

a special surprise?

Why not stop, look at them

and be a few seconds late,

but full of joy

because we see their beauty?

Perhaps hurrying makes us miss even more.

Perhaps hurrying makes us even less important

and less a part of this world.

Be where you are

and see what is around you

Now.

Caterpillar, Taking Its Time

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Riding behind me in the back seat of the truck

Like she used to.

When her back legs got weak and she couldn’t walk very far

She rode in the truck behind me

And looked out the window,

Feeling the breeze, inhaling the smells.

She was a Bernese Mountain Dog

Beautiful, majestic

Too big for me to carry

As she had carried me through so much of life.

I knew she would leave her failing body soon.

So we went for rides

With the windows open

and enjoyed each other’s company,

using all of our senses,

longing to hold on to that feeling

Forever.

When it was time to let her go,

God sent a blizzard

for she loved the snow.

She stayed out on the deck all day

Turning white like the ghost she would become

Lying in her patch of snow

Loving it.

When we let her go

Her spirit took flight

And Rusty jumped straight up in the air, startled

Putting an exclamation point on her exit,

leaving no doubt that she had gone.

For a while

I found clumps of her black hair

in corners of the house

But I didn’t want to vacuum up

this part of her.

That is why I don’t shovel all the snow

I leave a patch in the middle of the deck

Where she used to be

And I imagine her there yet, enjoying the day.

Sometimes I still feel her presence,

riding behind me in the back seat of the truck

Like she used to

I look over my shoulder and I don’t see her

But I know she is still there.

Zena

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Chase has always been tuned in to people’s feelings. He knows when something is different. He intuitively picks up on any unrest among animals or people. He’s the dog who goes into the bathroom and puts his front feet up on the stool, waiting for a hug. I used to think he did it because he wanted attention. I slowly came to realize that he does it when I could really use a hug. He’s thinking about me and is much wiser than most people realize.

My friend Sarah rescued Chase in a poor area of rural Virginia, from a man who was going to shoot him for chasing sheep. This young cattle dog-collie mix had a strong herding instinct and, knowing him, was just trying to keep the place organized. But the man, in a rage, stuffed him into a tiny chicken crate and was going to shoot him. When Sarah intervened and saved Chase, she held him on her lap for a long time before he stopped shaking. He knew what was going on.

You may have read the story of how Chase and I came together (in the book 8 State Hurricane Kate). The short version is that I met Sarah while caring for rescued animals in Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina. We stayed in contact and I came upon Chase the following spring on Sarah’s rescue website (www.lostfantasystables.com). Seeing that he was a “red heeler mix”, wanting to support Sarah’s rescue efforts, and knowing that my red Australian cattle dog needed a new pal, I followed up. Sarah and I determined that Chase would likely be a good fit with my family. A series of very caring people transported Chase from Virginia to Wisconsin, where I picked him up and brought him home.

That was in 2006. Chase settled in pretty well here, becoming fast friends with Bandit after a few tussles to settle the pack order. One morning, I was puzzled when Chase wouldn’t go into the garage with me to get bird seed. I later learned that the man used to throw him in the garage by himself for hours. Chase apparently didn’t want to go in the garage with me because he thought I was going to leave him there… alone… for hours.

Chase also had a few episodes that seemed like traumatic flashbacks. One occurred when we were in an agility class, getting ready to start a course. I hadn’t unhooked the leash yet, but he began to run, thinking he was already loose. I didn’t see him take off in time and he hit the end of the leash very hard. His reaction was so dramatic, especially for such a gentle dog, that we decided he was reliving bad past experiences of being jerked hard or hung on a leash. He was very traumatized.

In spite of his past, Chase is a very loving and friendly dog. He loves people and wants to connect with everyone. If we’re in a room full of people, like at a book signing, he is bothered if he doesn’t get to greet each person individually. Being locked in the garage all alone must have been a horrible punishment. He’s trying to make up for lost time on the love front.

Chase has been waiting for years now for me to follow through on his potential. I think he will be a great therapy dog, but I’ve often wondered how I would fit another commitment into our schedule. He has an arthritic back now, probably from being thrown around when he was younger. I’m concerned about someone surprising him with a big hug and hurting him. But a year ago at a book event, I learned about READ Dogs (www.readdogsmn.org) and I think he would be a perfect READ dog. READ dogs sit and listen while a child (or anyone who is learning to read) reads them a story. Dogs are great company and aren’t judgmental. They enjoy any story. A kid builds confidence and gains a friend while reading out loud to a dog. Kids who don’t have pets at home get to make a connection with an animal. A dog like Chase gets to bond with a kid and fulfill his purpose to give love.

Chase may have trouble passing some of the Delta tests due to his back problems, but we’re going to try anyway. We know that, just as a dog can learn to pass the required tests, kids can learn how to approach a dog kindly and gently. Chase already knows the important stuff. He knows how to forgive and how to give love. His heart is open.

~~~~~~~~~

We’re going to share the “secret” behind Chase’s beautiful, soft coat. Once we let our classmates know about Omega Fields Canine Shine and Omega Nuggets, they will all have the key to plush, soft and shiny coats that everyone loves to pet!

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A year to the day later, on June 2^nd, 2007, a striking bright orange poppy bloomed in my backyard, near where Kate had rested on that last afternoon. It leapt out of the dark foliage, announcing its presence. The seed was probably planted by a bird, if you know what I mean. But poppies don’t grow here naturally. I had a strong feeling that this beautiful flower was a gift from Kate.

In 2007, I declared June 2^nd “Kindness for Kate Day”. In Kate’s honor, I asked people to perform an act of kindness to make the world a better place… plant a flower, say a prayer, help somebody, give hope to a homeless animal or a homeless person, collect spare change and donate it to an animal rescue group or a food shelf, appreciate someone’s efforts, volunteer, or come up with another idea and share it. I challenged people to do something new that they hadn’t done before. I wanted to make June 2^nd an awesome day.

In the past few years, a poppy has bloomed in my backyard every year around June 2^nd. But now that first poppy has multiplied into a beautiful poppy garden that blooms briefly, reminding me of that June 2^nd in 2006.

Why am I talking about June in the middle of winter? Because I’m thinking about planting seeds. I’m thinking about the seeds I planted during the past year, and the seeds that I want to plant this year. Some of our seeds grow and bloom, yet others don’t seem to germinate. Over time, however, some will grow into a beautiful perennial garden that we and others can enjoy.

That one orange poppy that spread into a beautiful garden was like the caring people who came together to help the lost Katrina animals, then returned to their homes all over the country and stayed in contact, forming a powerful network. It was like how telling Kate’s story connected me with so many caring people all over the country, end even the world. It was like how that one single decision to go to Louisiana to help lost animals completely changed my life. I have grown too.

Many of us started out thinking, “What can I, just one person, do?” and decided to do that little bit anyway. We came away knowing that, along with others, we could often do much more than we had expected.

Sometimes the seeds that we plant and water and nurture don’t grow into the flowers we envisioned. Yet other seeds that we didn’t even know we had sown yield beautiful and amazing gardens. What seeds have you planted in the past year? What seeds do you want to plant next? What small actions can you take every day to make the world a better place?

I’m reminded of a local story that just concluded with a happy ending. While on a walk with her foster mom, a rescued Sheltie named Lady broke loose and was running free in a St. Paul suburb. Lady was spooked easily and was running scared. People had spotted her, but days went by as the rescue group and local volunteers searched. Winter was coming and the weather was getting colder. Efforts to find and even live trap Lady were in vain.

One afternoon, a man driving home from work spotted a dog in an industrial area, miles from where Lady had last been seen. He recognized Lady and drove to the grocery store to find the phone number on a flyer he had seen. He called the number, then drove back to the industrial area and found Lady again. But he couldn’t approach her; she was too scared. He followed instructions given to him on the phone and kept an eye on Lady from a distance while Sheltie rescue called volunteers. The foster mom, Mel, and others arrived and sat in a ring around the empty lot, encircling Lady from a distance. Eventually, Mel entered the circle. Each time Lady tried to find an escape route, the person on that side of the circle stood up to keep her from bolting away. Eventually, with much patience, Mel got close enough for Lady to recognize her scent. Mel spoke, touched Lady, and both relaxed, relieved. With tears in her eyes, Mel fastened Lady’s harness and carried her safely to the car.

If the man, Brad, a complete stranger, had not noticed Lady, interrupted his routine and acted right away, Lady might still be running scared. If volunteers had not immediately dropped what they were doing in the middle of a work day and gone to help form the circle… if people had not listened to the instructions to NOT approach Lady… she might still be out there, or might not have survived.

But that’s not the whole story. Mel realized how much Lady meant to her and decided she didn’t want to be separated again. So now Lady is home with Mel forever. And get this: In an interview on local TV, Mel said that she didn’t even know who had posted that flyer at the grocery store, but she was certainly grateful.

Who posted the flyer at the grocery store?

Think about it. One seemingly small action: a person putting up a flyer about a lost dog at a grocery store. One tired man on his way home from work who remembered seeing the flyer at the grocery store and acted immediately. One patient group of people who each came right away to form a circle around the scared dog. And, of course, the rescue group and foster mom. They all made a difference. But the happy ending began with the person who posted the flyer at the grocery store.

“What can I, just one person, do?”

Think about the seeds you want to sow in 2012, the “flyers” you want to post. If changing the whole world for the better seems like an overwhelming goal, think about the small things that you can do every day to make a difference, about each bright orange poppy you can plant. Think about the seemingly small decisions you make and actions you take each day. By the end of the year, you might just have an amazing poppy garden… or an amazing “puppy” garden.

Best wishes for a poppy new year!

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Excerpted from the book, A Book of Miracles.

Copyright © 2011 by Bernie Siegel.

Reprinted with permission from New World Library. www.NewWorldLibrary.com.

In January, I took my very old dog Rusty to the vet for the last time. Rusty had been a stray, found in a neighboring state. I had adopted him from the local animal shelter and we had been together for over seven years. Now his liver was failing and he was very ill and in pain. Sadly, it was time to let him go.

Once the vet gave the injection and Rusty peacefully passed on, I went back out to my truck for Rainbow. She was Rusty’s pal, a much younger and higher energy dog. I led Rainbow in to see Rusty, so she wouldn’t wonder what had happened to him, then took her back out to the truck.

Before driving home, I was compelled to go back in to the clinic to get Rainbow a chew toy. I knew she would be lonely as the only dog and would need something to keep her busy. Inside, a blue Australian Cattle Dog (ACD, a.k.a. blue heeler) was standing at the counter with an unfamiliar woman. I was surprised because I didn’t see cattle dogs often and hadn’t seen one at our vet clinic before. I asked the woman if it was okay to pet her dog. I told her that I had just lost my cattle dog mix a few minutes earlier. She encouraged me to pet the blue girl, Opal, and told me that she had a red puppy in her van. He was the last one of the litter and needed a new home. People on her waiting list had been looking for blues. I told her that I had another red heeler mix (Rainbow) in the truck and that we like the reds at our house!

I hadn’t even thought about where my next dog would come from. Rusty was very old, but had only recently shown signs of illness. The woman, Louanne, told me that while she was driving to the clinic, she’d been overcome by a peaceful feeling that the red puppy would soon find his new home. She offered to bring him over to meet me. At first I resisted, telling her I couldn’t make a decision on a new dog right away and that Rainbow was probably upset about Rusty passing on. I didn’t know how much more emotion my heart could take that day. But Louanne brought the red pup over. To my complete astonishment, he had Rusty’s double red mask and red ears (Louanne had not seen Rusty). He was a very nice, bold, playful puppy and I was taken with him right away. He and Rainbow got along from the beginning. I didn’t want to make an emotional decision, so I asked Louanne for references. Rainbow and I needed to grieve Rusty’s passing. I was exhausted and needed time to think. Louanne and I exchanged information and Rainbow and I went home. I kept thinking about that red puppy, feeling like he belonged with us. It was clear that Rainbow needed a playmate. I did my homework, contacted Louanne’s references, and two weeks later Bandit joined our family.

The amazing thing is that I had made an appointment for the vet to come to my home at the end of the day to put Rusty down. But Rusty was suddenly in so much pain that I didn’t want to make him wait, and drove him to the clinic. Louanne lived over an hour away and this was not her regular vet. She had been referred to my vet for Opal to have a special procedure, and had brought puppy Bandit along for the ride. If I hadn’t gone back in to get Rainbow a chew toy, Opal would not have caught my eye at the front counter, and I would not have met Louanne, or Bandit. I believe the sequence of events that brought Bandit to me were not a coincidence. In his pain, Rusty led me to the only red ACD puppy for miles. Bandit was Rusty’s gift to Rainbow and me, to help us heal from the pain of his loss. I think we experienced an everyday miracle and that Bandit was meant to be with us. My mom says that “God winked” that day.

Bandit’s formal name is Hillhaven Bolt Out of the Blue. With his puppy antics and his silly rubber chicken, he brought Rainbow and me back to life. He taught me that sometimes the best friends will find you when you least expect them to, and that paying attention to them is important. Jump on a good opportunity when you see it, because life is too short and you may not get the chance again. Bandit has been a wonderful companion, a perfect fit with my personality who has taught me so much about life. He is my bolt out of the blue, my everyday miracle, and my link back to Rusty.

Puppy Bandit (above) and  Elder Rusty (below)

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I pulled over right away, realizing that I wouldn’t get far without oil pressure. Plus, if my truck needed to be towed, I was already closer than home to the repair place. As I pulled over to the side of the frontage road, smoke rose up in front of the windshield. I turned off the key, grabbed my laptop and notes, and jumped out. I wondered if the truck would catch fire, but the smoke seemed to come from the hot oil dripping on the parts below. I bent over to discover a growing puddle of oil leaking onto the pavement between the front tires. I looked back to see a trail of oil drops behind the truck. I prepared to issue last rites.

My cell phone had one battery bar left and the charger was at home. I called the Car Guy. With almost 233,000 miles on the truck, I knew his number by heart. He arranged for a tow truck to meet me. I didn’t have cell phone numbers for the people who I was to meet at a restaurant, but I was able to reach the department administrator. She connected me to one of the people from the meeting, who offered to pick me up at the car repair place and give me a ride.

I had to wait about 45 minutes for the tow truck. The chi appeared to be draining from my truck and I didn’t have a specific back up plan. Normally I would sit and stew. But I thought about the almost 233,000 miles we’d driven together, all the wonderful memories, and felt grateful. I was going to miss my old GMC Sonoma. I decided to lay my hands on the hood and administer Reiki (pronounced “Ray-key”, a Japanese form of energy healing), to channel positive energy and encourage healing. I know this sounds funny, but it couldn’t hurt, might even help, and it was better for me than stomping and cursing.

In the Reiki frame of mind, I noticed that it wasn’t a bad day to be stuck on the side of the road. It wasn’t too hot, it wasn’t raining, the birds were singing, and it was a rather pleasant day. I suddenly had the time to notice.

While I had my hands on the hood, a handsome man on a Harley pulled over. He asked if I had help on the way, and I nodded. He noticed the growing puddle of oil under my truck and mentioned possible solutions. He told me he’d replaced the engine in his Blazer and about how much it had cost. He got me thinking about possible solutions other than junking the truck. I told him that the truck had already given me almost 233,000 miles and that it wasn’t a bad day to be stuck on the side of the road. He pointed out the vegetable garden beyond the trees and noted that I could watch the gardeners. Knowing that I was ok, he said goodbye and rode off. Then I wondered, “Who was that handsome man on the Harley?” Perhaps he was a guardian angel.

The tow truck arrived. The driver let me charge my phone while we rode to the repair place. I met the Car Guy’s new Australian Shepherd puppy, left the truck there and caught my ride to the meeting. I hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst. I figured I would have to arrange new transportation ASAP and my mind began working to solve the problem.

The restaurant where we were scheduled to meet was closed (for good), so we ended up meeting in a restaurant back by the car repair place. We decided to make it our new meeting place!

When I called the Car Guy to check on my truck, he told me that, amazingly enough, the tube that routed the oil to the oil cooler had corroded through and he thought he could fix the truck by replacing the part that same afternoon! After the meeting, I learned that when he installed the new part, he discovered that a second part, the oil cooler, was also cracked and leaking. He was able to find the second part at a place about 45 minutes away, and it was rush hour. His wife, who usually makes the part runs, was busy, so he sent his son, who also works in the shop. When his son got to the parts place, he realized they were about to sell him the wrong part. Luckily, they had the right part in stock and he returned with that.

While I waited, I got out my laptop and worked for a couple more hours. Then I played with the puppy again. They replaced both parts for less than $500, a blessing considering that a few hours earlier I’d thought I’d need a new vehicle, or at least a new engine.

At the repair shop, they were amazed that I was able to pull over and turn the truck off before it lost all of its oil. In fact, it still contained a quart of oil when it arrived at the shop. They had never seen anything like it. But then, they had probably never seen anyone lay hands on a truck either!

The day included so many near misses that could have gone one way or the other, but went my way. There was the flashing oil pressure light, that I was able to read the second time. I was just a mile or two short of being on the interstate, where I wouldn’t have been able to pull over and shut off the truck right away. My cell phone had just enough juice for me to call for help and call people about the meeting. I was able to reach people about the meeting and get a ride. The man on the Harley stopped and gave me positive things to think about and possible solutions for the truck, and showed me the gardeners. The truck still had oil when it arrived at the shop. They were able to fix it by replacing two parts the very same day. The son went to get the second part, not the wife, who would have returned with the wrong part.

We found a new restaurant for our meetings. When I was delayed, my neighbor was able to let my dogs out. She said I was lucky to catch her at home because she was leaving for a trip the next morning. I finished some work and even got to play with a puppy while I waited for the second part to be replaced. I drove home that evening in my own truck, for under $500. This had seemed highly unlikely earlier in the day.

The day was full of near misses, with a good outcome, considering. So tell me… Does Reiki help machines, and who was that handsome man on the Harley anyway? Some have said he was my guardian angel, and I won’t argue with that!

You may be thinking, what does any of this have to do with dogs? My dogs have taught me that all we really have is this present moment, and we’d best enjoy it. Enjoy the day and try not to worry about money. My dogs led me to learn Reiki, which may not have helped the truck, but it certainly helped the way I handled the situation. All these things that I’ve learned from my dogs helped me to be positive in a stressful situation. And when I thought of all the amazing places my truck has taken me and the wonderful times I’ve had, most of them involved my dogs. I was overwhelmed with gratitude!

That’s how a day that started out fine and veered toward disaster seemed to be a miracle a few hours and $500 later. I ended the day as usual, safely back home, on a walk with my dogs. It was a pleasant evening. We took the time to notice, and we enjoyed every moment.

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My dog brought me his rubber chicken

Before I even got out of bed

Because he knew I was sad.

On this day in 2001, I packed for a flight to Washington, DC.

My co-workers prepared to leave for the airport, when someone called us

to the TV,

showing a plane crashing into a skyscraper, unfurling clouds of dark gray smoke.

Over and over, over and over and over we saw that plane strike the World Trade Center.

We wondered, what in the world?

Then another plane struck, and both towers went down in a monstrous cloud of dust.

On it went.

A plane crashed into the Pentagon in Washington, DC

And we prayed for our co-worker who was already there. We prayed for everyone there.

What on earth was going on?

A plane crashed in a field in Pennsylvania.

Later we learned of the brave passengers, who heard over their cell phones of the attacks and said, “no more!” They said goodbye to their loved ones, then faced the attackers and drove the plane into that field.

Heroes they were.

There would be no more flights that day.

All were grounded.

That night the skies were empty. My dogs and I walked under a clear, star-filled sky and wondered at the quiet, the emptiness.

For surely many new souls had entered heaven that day.

People from the planes.

People from the buildings.

People from the neighborhood.

People and dogs from the rescue crews.

Surely heaven was busy that night.

And yet the sky was so quiet. And empty, except for the stars.

New stars lit the night.

Soon fighter jets circled overhead, even here in Minnesota.

And though I had wondered at the peacefulness of the sky, following the violence of the day

And realized, even then, I would never again see the sky this empty and the stars so wondrous.

Once I knew they were ours, I was thankful for the fighter jets watching over. I was thankful to be an American.

I was thankful for the rescue workers, dogs and people, who tirelessly searched in the face of such wreckage, such overwhelming sorrow, allowing the possibility of hope.

I was thankful for each being who gave hope to another, through a courageous act, a hug, or just a simple word of kindness.

For we all felt so fragile even as we were gathering our strength.

I wondered how this tragedy could happen in our great country—or anywhere.

How does hate go that far?

I wondered at the depth of loss and destruction.

I stood up for Marwane, a man at work. For although some hated him for his name and I had felt his disrespect for me as a woman, I knew he was not a terrorist.

I learned of children who were born on 9-11-01, of love that was born too, borne on the winds of destruction.

I saw how tragedy brought out the best in people, how love brought us together and slowly built us up again, how love inspired us to help one another.

And I tried to focus on love.

I tried not to hate.

Because hate killed all those people.

Hate killed all those people, and some dogs who went to help.

And somehow the hate has to end.

Somehow the hate has to end.

On this day in 2011, my dog brought me his rubber chicken before I even got out of bed, because he knew I was sad.

Because I have not forgotten.

So through my tears I played with my dog (sent to me by God and doG in 2003), and his rubber chicken. Through my tears, I played with Bandit and that rubber chicken, and I smiled.

I appreciated my dog’s simple act of love and compassion, as he showed me how to go forth. He showed me how to go forth with love, not hate.

And I vowed to go forth with love.

Through my tears, I vowed to go forth with love.

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Emergency Preparedness for Your Pet

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Jenny, Chase, Cayenne, and Bandit (Photo by L.S. Originals of Fridley, Minnesota)

Cay has come a very long way since I first heard about her litter four years ago. When I checked the Australian Cattle Dog Rescue, Inc. (ACDRI) hotline messages in July of 2007, I heard a message from a woman in Tennessee. Debbie Foster (an appropriate name!) of the Henderson County Humane Society was caring for a litter of seven very young puppies that had been rescued from the wilderness. They had apparently been dumped, with no mama dog around, and had been found by a local man, a recluse who had taken them to Debbie. She nursed the pups through an almost fatal bout of coccidia and contacted ACDRI for help finding them homes because she thought they were Australian Cattle Dog mixes.

I learned that Debbie and her family were the Henderson County Humane Society, doing as much as they could with very little. When ACDRI wasn’t willing to help, I worked with Debbie to find safe places for the puppies. One pup was adopted in Tennessee. In the fall of 2007, three went to Sue Cameron-Day of Meet the Pack ACD Rescue in Ontario and three of them came to Homeward Bound Rescue here in Minnesota. I thought my job was done. Little did I know that one of those puppies was going to choose me!

I followed the pups’ progress from afar. Months later, Katie of Homeward Bound asked me if I would foster “Zulu”. She was being fostered with a group of other dogs and was so intimidated at adoption events that it was hard to find her a home. She needed more human interaction and one-on-one time with a person. I had two dogs already and was very hesitant about bringing home another dog. I eventually agreed to foster Zulu if she got along with my other dogs. My schedule wouldn’t allow me to take her to all the adoption events, but Katie wasn’t concerned about that.

Puppy “Zulu”, a.k.a. Cayenne (photo courtesy of Debbie Foster)

When I first brought Zulu home in April of 2008, two of us had to pry her from the back of the travel crate. She had been swimming in a pond at the foster home and had probably peed on herself during the car ride. Poor girl; she was a mess. She smelled so awful that I had to give her a bath before she could live in my house. She wasn’t comfortable with me or the bathtub, but she gradually began to relax with my gentle massage and kind words.

I quickly realized that Zulu got along with other dogs, but wasn’t comfortable with people. She hadn’t had a bad experience with people—she seemed to have had almost no experience with people. She must have spent a lot of time huddled in the back of a crate. Her feet splayed like stars, indicating that she had spent most of her time hiding and hadn’t gotten enough exercise. She wobbled on an under-developed rear end. Her hocks were so flimsy, they almost bent backwards.

She hadn’t learned much from her mother either. Canine etiquette was beyond her. She lacked social skills and was clumsy around the other dogs, crashing into them and barking hysterically when they defended themselves. Sometimes she didn’t have a clue.

She had skin allergies and a nervous habit of scratching and licking herself, creating bald patches on her side and rear end. What was I going to do with this poor girl? I had worked with a dog who was fine with people, but terrified of other dogs. I hadn’t worked with a dog who was fine with other dogs, but terrified of people. I had a lot to learn!

Bandit, Chase and I began the long process of letting Zulu get used to us. For the longest time, she hid out and avoided eye contact. She was afraid of the dark and didn’t want to go outside for the last potty break before bed, even when I turned the yard lights on and went out with her. At first, we didn’t do any formal training, other than letting her follow the other dogs’ example for the house rules, and teaching her to walk on a leash with me. I just wanted her to learn how to be a dog and be comfortable in her own skin.

On June 3, 2008, I wrote in my blog:

Cay came when I called her today! She was hungry and saw me give a treat to Chase! Chase comes on a whistle and Bandit comes when called by name. Without formal training, Cay has picked up on the whistle. Now when I whistle, she races Chase to get to me first.

Cay still doesn’t like to go out in the dark early in the morning or late at night, even with the porch and yard lights on. I have to put a leash on her in the evening to take her out in the yard. I think her fear of the dark is left over from being dumped in the wilderness with her littermates. Who knows what was out there in the dark. I’ve found that rescued dogs come with different fears and anxieties and we don’t always know what caused them. I’ve never had a dog that I knew to be afraid of the dark before.

……………….

Cay rode along when my other dogs went to herd sheep and cattle. There she met new people who gave her praise and treats, and she saw different kinds of animals. She climbed hills and went on walks every day with my other dogs and me, running and playing in a big fenced field. Her muscles developed and her coat took on a healthy sheen. After months with us she looked me in the eye one day and, for the first time, I noticed the depth of her gorgeous dark brown eyes. I realized then that she had never looked directly back at me before, but had always turned her head away. Now she was looking back and she had the most beautiful dark brown eyes I had ever seen.

Somehow everyone decided that this dog belonged with me. I was the last to know. I really resisted keeping a third dog. She was needy, unstable, hard on the other dogs and made our lives more complicated. But then I noticed that the people who inquired about her seemed to be needy, unstable, and complicated—the last thing she needed. When I saw her making gradual progress, I didn’t want to disrupt her life again. And so she is still here.

.Cayenne, August 2008

I began to call her Cayenne, because her darker highlights are the color of cayenne pepper. Plus I knew there was some spice inside her somewhere, we just had to find it.

Maybe Cay felt my change in commitment. She began to come out of her shell more and revealed a depth that had been masked by the skittish behavior, the furtive glances, and the hunched posture. She was beginning to let me in.

As Cay became comfortable in our home and in her own skin, she learned to be a happy, confident dog. Beginning about six months after she came to live with us, she and I completed three levels of obedience classes. She learned to go for a ride in the truck with me, without the other dogs. During the first class, we worked mostly on getting her used to strange dogs, sounds, and movements all around her. She wasn’t comfortable with anything happening behind her and spun around if she heard activity there. But she was very biddable and wanted to please me. By the end of the third class she was doing all of the exercises faithfully. Although she had been developmentally delayed since she was a pup, I discovered that she was a very smart dog when she overcame her fears.

Cay decided one night that she wanted to sleep spread out on the dog bed, not curled up in the back of her crate. So I left the crate door open and she slept stretched out on the dog bed all night, taking up plenty of space. This was quite an accomplishment for a girl who used to curl up in the back of her crate whenever she was scared or tired. She was learning to TAKE UP SPACE, a big step! She was happy to be “outside of the box”!

One day I let Cay try sheep herding. She was interested and excited that she could move the sheep by turning her body. She was so confident in herself that day that when we got home, she jumped up on my bed for the first time ever! I guess she thought her new accomplishment had earned her that privilege.

Cay had come a long way and had developed enough muscle to stabilize her back end. But almost two years after she joined our family, she still had nervous energy and habits. I looked for an activity that she and I could do together, separate from the other dogs, to build her confidence and our relationship and help her expel her nervous energy without scratching and licking herself. I decided to enroll her in an agility class, even though I didn’t think she could maneuver all of the obstacles due to her poor rear structure.

I was amazed with Cay’s progress as she quickly mastered the agility obstacles. First she had to get to know all the people and dogs in the class. Then she followed my lead as I guided her through the obstacles. One week, two guests came to observe the class. Cay was so distracted by the strangers that she had to be introduced to them before she was able to run the obstacle course.

I was an experienced handler, having trained and trialed other dogs in agility. Cay learned to do the tunnel, low jumps, and even the contact obstacles that challenged her. In the beginning though, she didn’t think she could jump up on the pause table. I realized this was due to her weak back end, but I also knew she could jump that high because she had jumped up on my bed at home. I worked with Cay and my other dogs at home, having the others jump on the table first, then giving her the opportunity. With a lot of convincing and some special treats, Cay learned that she could, indeed, jump up on the table. The next time we went to class, she completed all the obstacles in an agility course. On the last day of class, Cay was the only dog in the class to run two perfect courses with two clean runs. That’s quite an accomplishment for an abandoned puppy who almost didn’t survive, and was afraid of her own shadow, isn’t it? Agility taught Cay and me that together we can conquer any obstacle. Great job Cay! You have come a long way.

The agility instructor asked me if Cay was a Carolina Dog. I wasn’t familiar with the breed, but I learned that Carolina Dogs run feral in southern regions of the country and are becoming a recognized breed. I realized then that Cay’s litter may have been feral, which would explain a lot. Cay looks much like a Carolina Dog, but her littermate sister looks more like a red Australian Cattle Dog. Perhaps they’re a mix of the two breeds.

Cay with Hot Spot on Side, May 2009

As she turned three years old, Cay continued to suffer from skin problems apparently caused by allergies, a weak immune system, and a nervous habit of licking and biting herself whenever she was nervous or intimidated. Seasonal allergies intensified her itching problems. As I worked to solve Cay’s skin problems, I learned about canine more nutrition, food allergies and contact allergies. I fed her a limited ingredient diet, herbal supplements to help cool her skin, and other supplements to help support her skin, coat and immune system.

Cay at the Minnesota Valley Humane Society Woofer & Hoofer Walk, June 2010 (Photo by Allen Anderson)

Last August at the Dog Days of Stockholm (in Stockholm, Wisconsin), I received samples of Omega Fields Canine Shine and Omega Nuggets. Adding these products to Cay’s diet healed her skin and coat. The hair grew back over her bald patches and her coat became soft and silky. Omega Fields products transformed Cay’s skin and coat to a new level of vitality (use code JP2011 to get $2 off your order at www.OmegaFields.com). That’s why I handed out samples of Omega Nuggets and Canine Shine at the Dog Days of Stockholm on August 6^th this year, and why I support rescue organizations like  Braveheart Rescue, Inc. (www.braveheartrescueinc.com) who give dogs like Cayenne an opportunity for a happy life. Please support Braveheart Rescue at their garage sale on August 11th-13th (http://www.braveheartrescueinc.com/News—Events/Annual-Garage-Sale/annual-garage-sale.html), and join me in donating “50 of something” to Braveheart Rescue for my 50th birthday on August 11th (more info at http://tinyurl.com/3qxot4v). 

Cayenne, These Days

I’m amazed by all that my dogs have taught me! We make the world a better place, even by helping one animal at a time. And they make the world a better place by turning us into better people. Cayenne taught me that a dog who’s afraid of her own shadow can eventually bond to a person. With time and patience and love this scaredy dog learned to smile and be happy, to run up to a person to be petted. She’s wiggly and joyful now, and seeks attention from my friends. Cayenne taught me to be patient and that the waiting is worthwhile. She loves me now, and fully participates in life. That is one of my greatest accomplishments, ever.

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