Poor old Tetley had a large swelling under his right eye on Friday. A quick visit to the vet showed his teeth had just about given up the ghost. So, we now have a visit tomorrow to have some of them removed. Yes I am worried, my little old man under the anaesthetic. So many prayers for him to come through and be my 'gummy bear'. To hug him is like cuddling a teddy bear, so without the teeth....... I can't take credit for that one it was Geoff's turn of phrase.
Little chap Tommy is delightfully noisy (hint of sarcasm), but lovable to the nth degree.
Monday, 14 April 2008
Thursday, 28 February 2008
Confusious says "Beware the dog baring loving licks"
Only a dog lover can tell you the joy of receiving supposed affection from your dog/s via a good old lick on the chops.
The method I have adopted if I am unable to swiftly dodge the slobbering tongue is, to hold my breath, close my eyes as tightly as I can and hold my breath until I can muster a definite manoeuvre away from the offending pink monster.
Now, not known for my speed and dexterity I am somewhat a sitting target for both Tetley and Tommy's tongues. Tommy has an unfeasibly long tongue for a small dog and can unleash it with frightening speed and accuracy. Tonight, I have experienced something I must now go away and bravely reflect on and, prepare a defensive that will never allow me to be in the same vulnerable position ever again. Tonight I received a most wondrously placed probing and wet tongue not only about my face but also in my right ear. The sound which resonates into your bones is indescribable. That was not the worst of it. That tongue I found out, had only moments before been devouring half of what the cat had left in it's litter tray. The speed at which I launched myself into the bathroom and manically washed would have broken records. I wish to say no more on the matter.
The method I have adopted if I am unable to swiftly dodge the slobbering tongue is, to hold my breath, close my eyes as tightly as I can and hold my breath until I can muster a definite manoeuvre away from the offending pink monster.
Now, not known for my speed and dexterity I am somewhat a sitting target for both Tetley and Tommy's tongues. Tommy has an unfeasibly long tongue for a small dog and can unleash it with frightening speed and accuracy. Tonight, I have experienced something I must now go away and bravely reflect on and, prepare a defensive that will never allow me to be in the same vulnerable position ever again. Tonight I received a most wondrously placed probing and wet tongue not only about my face but also in my right ear. The sound which resonates into your bones is indescribable. That was not the worst of it. That tongue I found out, had only moments before been devouring half of what the cat had left in it's litter tray. The speed at which I launched myself into the bathroom and manically washed would have broken records. I wish to say no more on the matter.
Saturday, 23 February 2008
Time fly's when you are enjoying yourself.
2 months on, what progression have we made? We do have a revelation, Tetley's hearing isn't as bad as he originally made out. It's more a severe case of selective hearing. Some times he's amazing, hearing a rustle of a food packet in another room. Other times he can't hear you calling him, do you get my drift.
He also has a bit of a dance to do before he goes to bed, you mention 'bed' and Tommy's off like a shot, sitting like a soldier nice and proud in their crate a gleeful look onhis little face, eager to please. Tetley has a more indirect approach, he likes to circle the room a while anticipating you chasing him - early doors I found out that wasn't the way to go as I ended up having more exercise before bed than I had ever done- then after a few plea's to his better nature he occassionally offers a few teasing false starts, moving purposefully towards the crate then at the last minute swerving to oneside expertly diverting to yet again circumnavigate the living room. He may decide to toy with you further buy passing elegantly by your leg and then darting away. All in all it can be a challenging experience to a poor, tired doggy Mum or Dad. experience has now taught me the knack of adding a few expletives after bed and looking sternly at him, this seems to work.
The raw food diet died a death. Lots of good intentions on our behalf. A unified protest of "starvation until you give in" resulted. Yes, of course we caved in! have you seen how pitiful a Heeler can look at you?
The no getting on the couch also seems like a dim and distant practice - because it is. Geoff caved first, shortly followed by me. In fact I was just about to let the "awww let them come up out of my mouth when Geoff got there before me. There is nothing beter than relaxing after a sod of a day than slouching on the the sofa with a Heeler by your side, or on your knee, or laying across your belly, licking your face. AAAhhhh bliss.
He also has a bit of a dance to do before he goes to bed, you mention 'bed' and Tommy's off like a shot, sitting like a soldier nice and proud in their crate a gleeful look onhis little face, eager to please. Tetley has a more indirect approach, he likes to circle the room a while anticipating you chasing him - early doors I found out that wasn't the way to go as I ended up having more exercise before bed than I had ever done- then after a few plea's to his better nature he occassionally offers a few teasing false starts, moving purposefully towards the crate then at the last minute swerving to oneside expertly diverting to yet again circumnavigate the living room. He may decide to toy with you further buy passing elegantly by your leg and then darting away. All in all it can be a challenging experience to a poor, tired doggy Mum or Dad. experience has now taught me the knack of adding a few expletives after bed and looking sternly at him, this seems to work.
The raw food diet died a death. Lots of good intentions on our behalf. A unified protest of "starvation until you give in" resulted. Yes, of course we caved in! have you seen how pitiful a Heeler can look at you?
The no getting on the couch also seems like a dim and distant practice - because it is. Geoff caved first, shortly followed by me. In fact I was just about to let the "awww let them come up out of my mouth when Geoff got there before me. There is nothing beter than relaxing after a sod of a day than slouching on the the sofa with a Heeler by your side, or on your knee, or laying across your belly, licking your face. AAAhhhh bliss.
Monday, 31 December 2007
And so this is Christmas
And so this is Christmas......
our first Christmas as a family. What happened? Tetley could feast on his favourite passion - inspecting the contents of shopping bags. Never has so much excitement been experienced by a dog as to the possibilities of the contents of a carrier bag. Not a gentle nosing for Tetley. A full blown diving head first into the mysteries of the bulging bag. The contents of their advent calender was also a scene for the eye, excitement, slavering and then the spitting from Tommy - a fussy eater if ever there was one- and the quick sniff, gulp and it's gone from Tetley. He is one mighty dustbin that dog. Nothing that can go down a dogs gullet is left untouched. His mission is to devour the world one slurp at a time.
Poor old Tommy has been suffering from a tummy bug for the past 3 days. Vomiting of lunch followed by much more vomiting of stuff that came from whence I do not know. Day two, more vomiting of gallons of water and the occasional burp in between. Hours of laying on the sofa looking sorry for himself, not even rising to follow me around like a bad MI5 agent, which is his normal occupation/pass time.
Day three - today- and we have a refusal to eat his breakfast tooth cleaning chew and then storing it behind the sofa in his den, growling when Tetley wanders into the 'den zone' to check out if there's a left over bone or two to pinch off him. This performance ceased when I caused a distraction of a fresh bowl of drinking water for him, and then dashing behind the sofa to retrieve the chew. Back to Dog, Dolphin and husband joining me for cuddles on the afore mentioned sofa. Bliss.
Christmas was good, and now the New Year is hovering over us. I did have a few tears the other day as I realised I would leave Chester firmly in the past. Him dying 'last year' seams like he has been gone a long time, not just a few months ago. Each month sees him being further and further away, and I don't like it. The New year does encourage me to feel the aniticipation of new experiences, new friends and also understanding life a little less. As you grow older you just become more aware of the things you don't kow, unlike our youth when you know you know everything there is to discover. Ahh the joy of growing older... life really does get better as time moves on.
Happy New Year.
our first Christmas as a family. What happened? Tetley could feast on his favourite passion - inspecting the contents of shopping bags. Never has so much excitement been experienced by a dog as to the possibilities of the contents of a carrier bag. Not a gentle nosing for Tetley. A full blown diving head first into the mysteries of the bulging bag. The contents of their advent calender was also a scene for the eye, excitement, slavering and then the spitting from Tommy - a fussy eater if ever there was one- and the quick sniff, gulp and it's gone from Tetley. He is one mighty dustbin that dog. Nothing that can go down a dogs gullet is left untouched. His mission is to devour the world one slurp at a time.
Poor old Tommy has been suffering from a tummy bug for the past 3 days. Vomiting of lunch followed by much more vomiting of stuff that came from whence I do not know. Day two, more vomiting of gallons of water and the occasional burp in between. Hours of laying on the sofa looking sorry for himself, not even rising to follow me around like a bad MI5 agent, which is his normal occupation/pass time.
Day three - today- and we have a refusal to eat his breakfast tooth cleaning chew and then storing it behind the sofa in his den, growling when Tetley wanders into the 'den zone' to check out if there's a left over bone or two to pinch off him. This performance ceased when I caused a distraction of a fresh bowl of drinking water for him, and then dashing behind the sofa to retrieve the chew. Back to Dog, Dolphin and husband joining me for cuddles on the afore mentioned sofa. Bliss.
Christmas was good, and now the New Year is hovering over us. I did have a few tears the other day as I realised I would leave Chester firmly in the past. Him dying 'last year' seams like he has been gone a long time, not just a few months ago. Each month sees him being further and further away, and I don't like it. The New year does encourage me to feel the aniticipation of new experiences, new friends and also understanding life a little less. As you grow older you just become more aware of the things you don't kow, unlike our youth when you know you know everything there is to discover. Ahh the joy of growing older... life really does get better as time moves on.
Happy New Year.
Monday, 5 November 2007
2 weeks after the training
So how did we fair over the past 2 weeks?
I am horse through "barghing", but it works. No peeing, people can enter with out being hijacked and pounced upon. though They are now disturbed by me charging about shouting "bargh" and chucking a chain on a piece of string about. Understandable really.
The boys now sleep in a crate in the living room all tucked away safe and sound. They occupy this at night to sleep and if I go out anywhere. The theory behind this is that they feel insecure in a large space as it is allot to guard for a small dog, so by cutting the space down to a manageable size they can cope and relax. It works.I was set against these crates, they look awful, I don't like caging animals at all, but if it would find some peace for Tommy and Tetley I was going to try it. If I leave them out of it Tommy starts to pee everywhere again so, it shows he pees as a result of stress as 'Lady' suggested. They don't like to go in it though, I have to round them up and Tetely can pick up some real speed in darting away from me, and Tommy dashes behind the sofa to his safe place, I retrieve him by lassoing him with his lead and coaxing him into the crate. Treats suitably placed are not an encouragement for them, even for the forever hungry Tetley. So gentle encouragement is the key.
Geoff took up the water bomb challenge yesterday. He waited with baited breath upstairs, I went shopping. I came home to the boys still outside Geoff fast asleep on the bed. Must have worked a treat I thought? Geoff woke to say he thought I'd been home ages as he heard me "barghing" at the boys. I had to confess it wasn't me and the mystery was solved when a neighbour said how the "Barghing" hadn't worked for her in the afternoon. So thank you to Sue for trying to train them not to bark in the garden, and shame on you Geoff for leaving your post.
Sleeping is a joy. now I am back to struggling for space with just Geoff and not Geoff and Tommy. No dog hairs on and in the bed for me to get an itchy nose and anything else with and, no wet nose to have to swerve my tush away from several-teen times a night. Bliss.
All in all a recommended experience and would not hesitate to advise anyone to get in someone who knows what they are doing. Even if it is costly, the option isn't worth considering. Tommy would have no chance having bitten twice and his growling etc. as well as the peeing would not make him first choice for any adoptee. He is incredibly loving too, he's just nervous and not a natural leader.
Saying that, I did have awobble this week, when I wasn't feeling too well, I left them to wander the house whilst I slept in bed on morning. I got up to a tide of pee everywhere. Doors, windows, cat litter tray, water bowl yo name it he had marked it. At that point I did mention it had all got too much and he had to go. Geoff's sorry little face said it all along with his heart felt plea " I don't want to let him go". In truth neither do I. He can't be held responsible for his leaders not leading him.I returned to him with more love and understanding. We also decided that as he retreats to a space behind the sofa when he's stressed we ought to make it comfortable for him. So I go him a new little throw for him to lay on and he has now got a little retreat away from the world when he needs it. He always has his little yellow american football with him too, and last night a stolen lump of garlic bread. I know we should encourage him to use the crate but he has allocated his own safe place and We think that should be respected.
I also made the embarrassing purchase of a t-shirt for him. It's a blue polo shirt, with white trim. as butch as I could buy. Why? I saw on TV someone say if you have a nervous dog try a tight fitting t-shirt either a doggy one or something you can make yourself. Off the pets at home I went and was joyous to find the aforementioned t-shirt on a sale at £2.99. I did think I would struggle to get it on him - no way, he loves it! No problem getting it on, but he was mad as heck with me for trying to take it off him. He growled and held onto it with his little teeth gripping for dear life. I did show I was his Pack leader and got it removed to a sulking little man who looked embarrassed like he wanted to try and cover his nipples - if he should have any. Bless him. He looked uncannily like Phil Mitchel from Eastenders, all rippling muscles and big neck. This weekend - the weekend before bonfire night and lots of early fireworks - saw Tommy contented on his little rug, behind the sofa, american football and garlic bread beside him and his lovely new t-shirt on. What bliss.
Tetley, due to his deafness amongst other things is happily in his own world, content to the high teeth and trotting merrily around the house wagging his tail. A s long as he can scratch his bum on your foot every now and then and you feed him he has all he seems to want. Oh man of simple means.
I am horse through "barghing", but it works. No peeing, people can enter with out being hijacked and pounced upon. though They are now disturbed by me charging about shouting "bargh" and chucking a chain on a piece of string about. Understandable really.
The boys now sleep in a crate in the living room all tucked away safe and sound. They occupy this at night to sleep and if I go out anywhere. The theory behind this is that they feel insecure in a large space as it is allot to guard for a small dog, so by cutting the space down to a manageable size they can cope and relax. It works.I was set against these crates, they look awful, I don't like caging animals at all, but if it would find some peace for Tommy and Tetley I was going to try it. If I leave them out of it Tommy starts to pee everywhere again so, it shows he pees as a result of stress as 'Lady' suggested. They don't like to go in it though, I have to round them up and Tetely can pick up some real speed in darting away from me, and Tommy dashes behind the sofa to his safe place, I retrieve him by lassoing him with his lead and coaxing him into the crate. Treats suitably placed are not an encouragement for them, even for the forever hungry Tetley. So gentle encouragement is the key.
Geoff took up the water bomb challenge yesterday. He waited with baited breath upstairs, I went shopping. I came home to the boys still outside Geoff fast asleep on the bed. Must have worked a treat I thought? Geoff woke to say he thought I'd been home ages as he heard me "barghing" at the boys. I had to confess it wasn't me and the mystery was solved when a neighbour said how the "Barghing" hadn't worked for her in the afternoon. So thank you to Sue for trying to train them not to bark in the garden, and shame on you Geoff for leaving your post.
Sleeping is a joy. now I am back to struggling for space with just Geoff and not Geoff and Tommy. No dog hairs on and in the bed for me to get an itchy nose and anything else with and, no wet nose to have to swerve my tush away from several-teen times a night. Bliss.
All in all a recommended experience and would not hesitate to advise anyone to get in someone who knows what they are doing. Even if it is costly, the option isn't worth considering. Tommy would have no chance having bitten twice and his growling etc. as well as the peeing would not make him first choice for any adoptee. He is incredibly loving too, he's just nervous and not a natural leader.
Saying that, I did have awobble this week, when I wasn't feeling too well, I left them to wander the house whilst I slept in bed on morning. I got up to a tide of pee everywhere. Doors, windows, cat litter tray, water bowl yo name it he had marked it. At that point I did mention it had all got too much and he had to go. Geoff's sorry little face said it all along with his heart felt plea " I don't want to let him go". In truth neither do I. He can't be held responsible for his leaders not leading him.I returned to him with more love and understanding. We also decided that as he retreats to a space behind the sofa when he's stressed we ought to make it comfortable for him. So I go him a new little throw for him to lay on and he has now got a little retreat away from the world when he needs it. He always has his little yellow american football with him too, and last night a stolen lump of garlic bread. I know we should encourage him to use the crate but he has allocated his own safe place and We think that should be respected.
I also made the embarrassing purchase of a t-shirt for him. It's a blue polo shirt, with white trim. as butch as I could buy. Why? I saw on TV someone say if you have a nervous dog try a tight fitting t-shirt either a doggy one or something you can make yourself. Off the pets at home I went and was joyous to find the aforementioned t-shirt on a sale at £2.99. I did think I would struggle to get it on him - no way, he loves it! No problem getting it on, but he was mad as heck with me for trying to take it off him. He growled and held onto it with his little teeth gripping for dear life. I did show I was his Pack leader and got it removed to a sulking little man who looked embarrassed like he wanted to try and cover his nipples - if he should have any. Bless him. He looked uncannily like Phil Mitchel from Eastenders, all rippling muscles and big neck. This weekend - the weekend before bonfire night and lots of early fireworks - saw Tommy contented on his little rug, behind the sofa, american football and garlic bread beside him and his lovely new t-shirt on. What bliss.
Tetley, due to his deafness amongst other things is happily in his own world, content to the high teeth and trotting merrily around the house wagging his tail. A s long as he can scratch his bum on your foot every now and then and you feed him he has all he seems to want. Oh man of simple means.
The Training!
So Saturday arrives and with eager anticipation we await the arrival of our saviour.
A slight and very lovely lady turns up with briefcase in hand and we are off!
With a cuppa to ease the brain I tell all. The peeing, the barking and oh yes the biting. All is noted and we begin the imitative. I am taught the new command "Bargh", strong and firm in delivery it will stop all bad behaviour. I practice and lady is impressed by my volume and conviction. I am proud for once that I have a big gob.
Then the chain on a string - to be flung at the same time I deliver my "bargh" to attract attention and to assert my authority. A few attempts at delivering both together - tricky for a novice like me- and we attempt to open the door on the offending beasts who are ensconced in the living room. I "bargh" and throw the chain to the floor at the bottom of the door to get them to move away from the door making a clear entry space for me. 'Lady' opens the door and I begin "barghing" and chucking my chain in organised chaos with the desired effect. Well nearly Tommy has retreated to the safe spot behind the sofa and Tetley is looking at me as if to question my sanity. I understand where he is coming from. Stunned silence is what follows from my little fellows and it all seams peaceful and quiet - a taste of things to come?
Well stage one is good and the blighters are now waiting for me to go through doors before them and aware that me - or the chain- are their master/mistress. The next offensive is the walking on the lead without pulling my arm off. So both on the training leads she offers us and I'm up and down the path like a little soldier under her instruction dropping the leads and turning on a sixpence. Now this can make the best of us dizzy but if I mentioned I have suffered from vertigo for several years, which has on many occasions left me sprawled on the floor from an imaginary whirlwind that has taken me yo may understand how I got quite confused. Dropping leads and turning 'willy nilly', Lady getting a little exasperated with me though covering it reasonably well. Well the confusion seemed to work anyway as Tommy was soon eyes glued to me trying to figure out where I may go next, lead relaxed and no pulling. The truth was I didn't know where I was by this stage let alone where I may be going. All in a days training eh!
The good bit I enjoyed with relish was the water bomb session. To stop the little boys from barking constantly in the garden we had to stand at the bedroom window overlooking the garden, water bombs in hand - water filled nappy bags- and when they barked I "barghd" and threw a bag out of the window. SMASHING! oh the joy of doing that is to be experienced. 2 bags gone and silence? What the flippin' eck! my first bit of fun for ages and stopped by obedient dogs, what a dilemma. So husband Geoff is given orders to make as much noise as he can in the pathway outside the garden to incite a riot in the garden. Bags in hand banging and clattering outside and silence in the garden. Now 2 women stood waiting for something to happen is a recipe for gossip and idle chit chat, which we engaged in for around 5-10 minutes until we were brought out of it by a forgotten voice shouting "it doesn't seem to be working". OOps forgot about Geoff out there. So we invited him in to the house and left that exercise as to be continued when they do decide to bark again - homework.
Now 2 hours have passed the dogs are bewildered into silence, I am holding a throbbing headache and a problem with being able to stand up without feeling dizzy from all my tooing and froing with the leads. 'Lady' says "well, I think that's enough for today", we sign a form to say we will be under her command for 12 months for a fee and we wave her off before collapsing on the sofa. Now for the good bit, keeping it up and disciplining ourselves.
First hurdle, Geoff. Who doesn't like the idea of them not coming onto the sofa for a cuddle. Bugger, we compromise that when they are good and understand clearly who's boss we can invite them at our behest and discourage them from coming on their with us uninvited.
It all seems too easy, but we shall see.
A slight and very lovely lady turns up with briefcase in hand and we are off!
With a cuppa to ease the brain I tell all. The peeing, the barking and oh yes the biting. All is noted and we begin the imitative. I am taught the new command "Bargh", strong and firm in delivery it will stop all bad behaviour. I practice and lady is impressed by my volume and conviction. I am proud for once that I have a big gob.
Then the chain on a string - to be flung at the same time I deliver my "bargh" to attract attention and to assert my authority. A few attempts at delivering both together - tricky for a novice like me- and we attempt to open the door on the offending beasts who are ensconced in the living room. I "bargh" and throw the chain to the floor at the bottom of the door to get them to move away from the door making a clear entry space for me. 'Lady' opens the door and I begin "barghing" and chucking my chain in organised chaos with the desired effect. Well nearly Tommy has retreated to the safe spot behind the sofa and Tetley is looking at me as if to question my sanity. I understand where he is coming from. Stunned silence is what follows from my little fellows and it all seams peaceful and quiet - a taste of things to come?
Well stage one is good and the blighters are now waiting for me to go through doors before them and aware that me - or the chain- are their master/mistress. The next offensive is the walking on the lead without pulling my arm off. So both on the training leads she offers us and I'm up and down the path like a little soldier under her instruction dropping the leads and turning on a sixpence. Now this can make the best of us dizzy but if I mentioned I have suffered from vertigo for several years, which has on many occasions left me sprawled on the floor from an imaginary whirlwind that has taken me yo may understand how I got quite confused. Dropping leads and turning 'willy nilly', Lady getting a little exasperated with me though covering it reasonably well. Well the confusion seemed to work anyway as Tommy was soon eyes glued to me trying to figure out where I may go next, lead relaxed and no pulling. The truth was I didn't know where I was by this stage let alone where I may be going. All in a days training eh!
The good bit I enjoyed with relish was the water bomb session. To stop the little boys from barking constantly in the garden we had to stand at the bedroom window overlooking the garden, water bombs in hand - water filled nappy bags- and when they barked I "barghd" and threw a bag out of the window. SMASHING! oh the joy of doing that is to be experienced. 2 bags gone and silence? What the flippin' eck! my first bit of fun for ages and stopped by obedient dogs, what a dilemma. So husband Geoff is given orders to make as much noise as he can in the pathway outside the garden to incite a riot in the garden. Bags in hand banging and clattering outside and silence in the garden. Now 2 women stood waiting for something to happen is a recipe for gossip and idle chit chat, which we engaged in for around 5-10 minutes until we were brought out of it by a forgotten voice shouting "it doesn't seem to be working". OOps forgot about Geoff out there. So we invited him in to the house and left that exercise as to be continued when they do decide to bark again - homework.
Now 2 hours have passed the dogs are bewildered into silence, I am holding a throbbing headache and a problem with being able to stand up without feeling dizzy from all my tooing and froing with the leads. 'Lady' says "well, I think that's enough for today", we sign a form to say we will be under her command for 12 months for a fee and we wave her off before collapsing on the sofa. Now for the good bit, keeping it up and disciplining ourselves.
First hurdle, Geoff. Who doesn't like the idea of them not coming onto the sofa for a cuddle. Bugger, we compromise that when they are good and understand clearly who's boss we can invite them at our behest and discourage them from coming on their with us uninvited.
It all seems too easy, but we shall see.
Sunday, 28 October 2007
The weeks tick by
Week one turned into week two, week two turned to week three. Tommy continued to sneak his way onto the bed, whilst Tetley slept undisturbed through the night. The patter of little feet woke me several times every night and I responded by getting up and wandering in my 'jarmas' to let them (mainly Tommy, to have a wee). Surely to goodness this would stop when they settled? The 'buttock to nose' game had gradually been forgotten and been replaced by how quickly can I get the quilt of her and get the afore mentioned buttocks cold. This game Tommy was especially good at and I decided to sleep with a shawl that I could drape over my chilled area during the night if I didn't manage to nudge him off the bed. He has a grip like a limpet, and can play dead better than the best of them. So, getting the quilt back was not an easy option.
During the day time tides of dog pee found itself on and around anything you could possibly think of. A chair in the room was a favourite, fortunately it was a leather cloth thing so me washing it down constantly with biological washing powder was a chore but a necesary one (as recommended by a book I sat and read one Sunday in 'Pets at home'. One of several I managed to gleen information from without having to purchase. The floor wasn't very comfortable though and the queue for the till ran by me so the occasional kick of a snail line of pet lovers boots would occasionally catch me unawares, but a small price for the knowledge I managed to amass that afternoon).
I used the money I saved from not buying the books on some drops that would ease the most frayed nerves on any dog I was told, some dental chews - shocking breath one of them had- a pet behaviour spray that stops tehm peeing everywhere - oh yeh!!! does it eck!, and I managed to treat myself to a free packet or two of dog food on a promotional stand. A bargain hunter extraordinaire!
A new thing had appeared. Every time I moved they barked. Not threatening nor did they scare me. I was puzzled why and wandered between the thoughts of that they had been abandoned if you wish, that this was a big change and they didn't want me to disappear as well or, they were communicating they wanted food, water, a wee, a walk or anything, but nothing fitted. The bags of coins worked well until the fifth week and it all went Pete Tong. In a BIG WAY. Hysterical barking when anyone came to the door called us to engage in herding them into the living room, so they couldn't get to who was at the door. They would continue to bark but whoever was shivering in their boots would feel reasonably safe that they were behind a door or two away from them. Then when Number three son came to stay one weekend, Postie knocked on the door, number three son with sleep and other strange stuff he had accumulated over the weeks since we last saw him answered the door and out popped Tommy. Well, popped sounds like it was a slight ooops, her he comes. Apparently he launched himself mid air and attached himself via a flaring pair of teeth to the pooor fellows calf muscle. I was working in the summer house in the back garden and heard some commotion on the pathway but didn't realise what it was until I returned an hour later. "The dog's bit the postman" I was greeted with, sent shivers of horror down my body. I can cope with most things but biting is an end to a relationship as far as I was concerned. We had been searching for a animal behaviourist to come and offer support for a couple of weeks but had been given such comments as "oh they are too old to change their behaviour now" to "try shouting and slapping them". Well apart from never having or wanting to do this to my previous dog, I had read enough books and web sites by now to know that wasn't the way to go, and surely we can teach old dogs new tricks?
The search for a dog behaviourist hotted up as I was on the brink of 'phoning Edith to say Tommy's coming back to you. I couldn't deal with biting, it was a step too far. Three days later a friend called to bring me a present for my birthday, in exchange Tommy bit her son in the same place as the postie. That was it, I was distraught. He had to go. Geoff came home from work to the news that Tommy had bitten again we both resigned ourselves to the fact we were not equipped to deal with him. Was this why his owners had decided to give them up? We had long discovered the long walks they would have had were a myth as in the first week of taking them for a walk neither dog had energy to take them more than a short walk from the house. Up hill was taking their breath and running was a dim and distant memory for both of them. The poor coat Tetley arrived with took just a week to clear, yet a bald patch on his tail - the story given was that it was a bad case of flees also became suspect as the tail actually looked damaged underneath and the hair hasn't grown back still to this day. Since day one with them they had both flinched if either of us went to stroke them, not just nervousness at us being strangers, but something else was underneath it we felt. Tommy could crawl on his belly like snake if anyone raised their voices a sight that made us both feel sick to the stomach. We had never seem a dog cower in this way before.
One night whilst stroking his chest Geoff asked me what I thought of the bump he had found on one of Tommy's ribs. As a therapist I know what ribs should feel like - I work on them several times a day, I also knew what a fractured bone felt like and found one on the other side as well.
Sickened and saddened by what may have happened in their past we endeavoured to make their new home as peaceful as we could.
The biting was something else though, and I struggled to see who we could hold onto him knowing he had attacked twice in one week. Tetley was settling in superbly, no nervousness, sleeping like a log all night, no peeing every where, his barking was less and less. When we walked him instead of sitting on the grass looking exhausted and not wanting to move, he had a occasional bursts of running, his tail wagging behind him, positively enjoying his time. Tommy was growling more and more at seemingly nothing, grumbling and making the strange dolphin noises looking worried constantly.
I had to be strong,it was no good feeling sorry for him we couldn't let this go by and not act. I reluctantly went to the 'phone to call Edith, when it rang. It was one of the behaviourist people I had emailed. I explained the reason we wanted to see someone was because Tommy was obviously not settling well and we wanted to know what we were doing wrong and how to help him. I also mentioned unfortunately, I thought it was too late has he had bitten someone. The voice at the other end of the 'phone took charge of me and said they were used to dealing with similar situations and that the biting was something they could work with. I was sceptical but was also afraid that Tommy's options were limited, who would want to house a dog that 2 homes had given him up and one was for attacking people. His fate seemed to be a dark one.
We were mildly encouraged by the lady's claims to help us, but I couldn't allow myself feel false hope. We were fastidious in keeping him away from people who called at the house. I apologised profusely to the postman who said he hadn't reported us as he knew how we were ordinarily with our dogs and that he was sure it was our son who hadn't followed our usual procedures that had caused the situation. I breathed a temporary sigh of relief and acknowledged the narrow escape Tommy had already had.
Outside he was a different dog. He could walk past people and other dogs and completely ignore them, he wasn't bothered at all, nor was he aggressive. We waited for Saturday to arrive and our training session was to begin.
During the day time tides of dog pee found itself on and around anything you could possibly think of. A chair in the room was a favourite, fortunately it was a leather cloth thing so me washing it down constantly with biological washing powder was a chore but a necesary one (as recommended by a book I sat and read one Sunday in 'Pets at home'. One of several I managed to gleen information from without having to purchase. The floor wasn't very comfortable though and the queue for the till ran by me so the occasional kick of a snail line of pet lovers boots would occasionally catch me unawares, but a small price for the knowledge I managed to amass that afternoon).
I used the money I saved from not buying the books on some drops that would ease the most frayed nerves on any dog I was told, some dental chews - shocking breath one of them had- a pet behaviour spray that stops tehm peeing everywhere - oh yeh!!! does it eck!, and I managed to treat myself to a free packet or two of dog food on a promotional stand. A bargain hunter extraordinaire!
A new thing had appeared. Every time I moved they barked. Not threatening nor did they scare me. I was puzzled why and wandered between the thoughts of that they had been abandoned if you wish, that this was a big change and they didn't want me to disappear as well or, they were communicating they wanted food, water, a wee, a walk or anything, but nothing fitted. The bags of coins worked well until the fifth week and it all went Pete Tong. In a BIG WAY. Hysterical barking when anyone came to the door called us to engage in herding them into the living room, so they couldn't get to who was at the door. They would continue to bark but whoever was shivering in their boots would feel reasonably safe that they were behind a door or two away from them. Then when Number three son came to stay one weekend, Postie knocked on the door, number three son with sleep and other strange stuff he had accumulated over the weeks since we last saw him answered the door and out popped Tommy. Well, popped sounds like it was a slight ooops, her he comes. Apparently he launched himself mid air and attached himself via a flaring pair of teeth to the pooor fellows calf muscle. I was working in the summer house in the back garden and heard some commotion on the pathway but didn't realise what it was until I returned an hour later. "The dog's bit the postman" I was greeted with, sent shivers of horror down my body. I can cope with most things but biting is an end to a relationship as far as I was concerned. We had been searching for a animal behaviourist to come and offer support for a couple of weeks but had been given such comments as "oh they are too old to change their behaviour now" to "try shouting and slapping them". Well apart from never having or wanting to do this to my previous dog, I had read enough books and web sites by now to know that wasn't the way to go, and surely we can teach old dogs new tricks?
The search for a dog behaviourist hotted up as I was on the brink of 'phoning Edith to say Tommy's coming back to you. I couldn't deal with biting, it was a step too far. Three days later a friend called to bring me a present for my birthday, in exchange Tommy bit her son in the same place as the postie. That was it, I was distraught. He had to go. Geoff came home from work to the news that Tommy had bitten again we both resigned ourselves to the fact we were not equipped to deal with him. Was this why his owners had decided to give them up? We had long discovered the long walks they would have had were a myth as in the first week of taking them for a walk neither dog had energy to take them more than a short walk from the house. Up hill was taking their breath and running was a dim and distant memory for both of them. The poor coat Tetley arrived with took just a week to clear, yet a bald patch on his tail - the story given was that it was a bad case of flees also became suspect as the tail actually looked damaged underneath and the hair hasn't grown back still to this day. Since day one with them they had both flinched if either of us went to stroke them, not just nervousness at us being strangers, but something else was underneath it we felt. Tommy could crawl on his belly like snake if anyone raised their voices a sight that made us both feel sick to the stomach. We had never seem a dog cower in this way before.
One night whilst stroking his chest Geoff asked me what I thought of the bump he had found on one of Tommy's ribs. As a therapist I know what ribs should feel like - I work on them several times a day, I also knew what a fractured bone felt like and found one on the other side as well.
Sickened and saddened by what may have happened in their past we endeavoured to make their new home as peaceful as we could.
The biting was something else though, and I struggled to see who we could hold onto him knowing he had attacked twice in one week. Tetley was settling in superbly, no nervousness, sleeping like a log all night, no peeing every where, his barking was less and less. When we walked him instead of sitting on the grass looking exhausted and not wanting to move, he had a occasional bursts of running, his tail wagging behind him, positively enjoying his time. Tommy was growling more and more at seemingly nothing, grumbling and making the strange dolphin noises looking worried constantly.
I had to be strong,it was no good feeling sorry for him we couldn't let this go by and not act. I reluctantly went to the 'phone to call Edith, when it rang. It was one of the behaviourist people I had emailed. I explained the reason we wanted to see someone was because Tommy was obviously not settling well and we wanted to know what we were doing wrong and how to help him. I also mentioned unfortunately, I thought it was too late has he had bitten someone. The voice at the other end of the 'phone took charge of me and said they were used to dealing with similar situations and that the biting was something they could work with. I was sceptical but was also afraid that Tommy's options were limited, who would want to house a dog that 2 homes had given him up and one was for attacking people. His fate seemed to be a dark one.
We were mildly encouraged by the lady's claims to help us, but I couldn't allow myself feel false hope. We were fastidious in keeping him away from people who called at the house. I apologised profusely to the postman who said he hadn't reported us as he knew how we were ordinarily with our dogs and that he was sure it was our son who hadn't followed our usual procedures that had caused the situation. I breathed a temporary sigh of relief and acknowledged the narrow escape Tommy had already had.
Outside he was a different dog. He could walk past people and other dogs and completely ignore them, he wasn't bothered at all, nor was he aggressive. We waited for Saturday to arrive and our training session was to begin.
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