Next dog, schmext dog

Yes, I'm still obsessing about that. I hope to continue obsessing about it for many years yet.

I had previously considered the shar pei as a possible next dog. The main advantage of a shar pei is, people won't want to pet it. The main drawback of a shar pei is, neither do I.

Hmmmm...

And then I thought, what about a borzoi? People might want to pet a borzoi, but that's ok, because it can run away like the wind.

Hmmmm... Maybe "I don't want people petting my dog" is not the best criterion for picking a dog breed. Still, I'd like people, and in particular little girls, to leave my dog alone when we're having a walk. And mind you, my main criterion for picking a new car two years ago was "I want to be able to lie down full length in it." After all, a dog is a dog, and a car is a car. The difference is really just in the details.

Well, anyway.

Pros of a borzoi: it's essentially a greyhound. Therefore it's a sprinting dog more than a long-haul dog, like say, a husky. So I could probably stick to much the same walks as Tinky-Winky, and then I can get one of those fast remote-controlled car, and let the dog chase it on the school track. Greyhounds are actually very quiet in the house, as long as they get out enough. So that would be nice. Also I've met borzois before and they don't stink or drool. Also, it's beautiful, very good in cold weather, and not into strangers. My dog is MY best friend, not anyone else's. And last but perhaps not least, I always wanted a large dog, but the bigger the dog, the more it costs to feed; a borzoi, being very light for its height, mitigates this problem.

Cons of a borzoi: might not be easy to find, and will cost a fortune to ship up here. A lot harder to find roommates that will accept a borzoi than a shiba. It will eat three to five times as much as Her Majesty. And since I have never seen one in Hay River yet, I suppose people will want to stop and talk about it.

Ok. So the borzoi option seemed attractive. But then, after last week's eight-kilometer walk with my little autistic friend, I thought a schnauzer might be a better idea. Not that a borzoi can't walk eight kilometers, but a schnauzer is more of an endurance dog.

Hmmmmm...

Pros of a schnauzer: handsome; endurance dog; comes in three sizes, from 12" to 28"; herding and police dog, and therefore will work better with the kids.

Now you might say, shnauzers are difficult and not known as service dogs. But that's what you think. In Germany, they do work as police and military dogs. That's exactly why they can be difficult, in fact. All the highly intelligent dogs get difficult if they're not getting enough mental exercise. And while it's not commonly used as a service dog here, that doesn't mean it can't. So what if golden retrievers get all the credit? Most of them are as smart as a sack of doorknobs; the good ones become service dogs because they're tractable, that's all. But when you think about it, being tractable isn't necessarily a quality in working with an autistic kid. Autistic kids can be infinitely stubborn. (Or "focused" as I like to call it.) A dog that just does whatever the kid wants is no help to me; I need a dog who can out-stubborn the kid. In fact, if I'm gonna get a dog to help with the kid, I definitely want a herding dog, so it can outrun the kid and bring it back my way. If you can herd a cow, you can herd a kid. Hauling ducks is nice, but you can't do that with a kid.

Cons of a schnauzer: "handsome" isn't the same as pretty; hard to find; and not the dog I'd pick for myself. If I get a schnauzer for the kid, and then my life changes again and the kid is no longer a part of it, then I still have a schnauzer, for no apparent reason.

Obivously this dilemma is irrelevant just now, but the choice between a borzoi and a schnauzer could be summarised thusly: the borzoi is good for me, but not so good for the kid; the schnauzer is good for the kid, but not so good for me.

And then I think, if I'm looking at big dogs, why not a Belgian shepherd? I always wanted a Malinois. They're awesome. Then I remember that I can't get a Malinois because they've got way too much drive for me. Just because you love a breed, doesn't mean it wants to live with you. Sigh...

Then again, there are also some sporting dogs I rather like. Brittany, Nova Scotia duck tolling retriever, Gordon setter, English cocker spaniel, English springer spaniel, Welsh springer spaniel. And of course there is always the Icelandic sheepdog or the Norwegian buhund, both of them not in the book of breeds I borrowed from the library. Books of breeds are becoming lamer and lamer, if you ask me. And as sheepdogs go, there's also the Australian shepherd. And the Bernese mountain dog (my grandmother had one) and the greater Swiss mountain dogs are handsome, helpful, and strong enough to drag the kid home if need be; but I'd need eight times the food budget and a much larger apartment.

Or I could just get another shiba.

So, I guess I got it narrowed down to 17 breeds. Good thing it's not urgent.

The ten-dog race, again

I don't like the look of this

The front door of our building is metal to about halfway up, and then glass. As Tinky-Winky and I were heading out on our evening stroll today, I saw there was a young girl outside the door. I would guess about twelve years old. And when she saw us, she started moving in a way that suggested, to me at least, that she was handling a dog. I figured, probably a yorkie or something rat-like and killable like that; so I picked up Her Majesty and carried on.

Ha.

When I opened the door, all I could see was a blur of brindled hide. I got the impression that it was a pitbull, from its colour, but it was so in my face, I never got a good look. And more than that, it was trying to get in Her Majesty's face. Tinky-Winky seemed cowed at first, but then, I got the impression it nipped her, and she started snarling and barking furiously.

Meanwhile, I was trying to push the dog away from me and down, as it was trying to stand up against me. Less relevantly, the girl was yanking on its chain and begging it to obey her. As if that would do anything. And I was trying to manage the dog with one hand, since I had Tinky-Winky under the other arm, and talk to all three so as to calm Tinky-Winky, control the dog, and prevent the kid from freaking out.

Finally I pushed the creature far enough off me that I could walk past it, and let it and the girl get through the door and into the lobby. Thinking that was that, I turned my back on them and put Tinky-Winky back down. Immediately the dog actually pushed its way out the closing door again to try to come at us. WTF???

I shoved him back and forced the door shut in his face until it locked.

Phew!

Ok, so that was NOT cool. I still think, looking at my stored mental image of it, that it has the physique of a pitbull, but taller. It's a tan colour with brindling and four white feet. Quite handsome, actually, but it's the most aggressive large dog I've ever seen. Tinky-Winky was significantly worse when I got her, but as I always say, had she been a large dog, she'd have been put down early on. The only reason she wasn't a serious danger is because she's small and easy to overpower. This creature is less aggressive in that he didn't attack with lightning speed and single-minded purpose like she used to. On the other hand, it had absolutely no respect for me. If you're one of those people who "don't believe in dominance", then you wouldn't know what I'm talking, but I'm the dominant bitch. Dogs give me respect. Come to think of it, "respect" is another word for "dominance". If you don't want to think of it as being "dominant" to your dog, think of it as "respect" and the obvious fact that your dog has none for you. Hey, if you don't believe in it, why would anyone give you any?

Well, the dominance thing isn't the point here. The point is, dogs give me respect. I rarely have to put my hands on them to get my space respected, let alone apply force. And being a construction worker, I can apply more force than most women. So if this dog won't back down and I can't overpower it, that's rather alarming. And the fact that its owner lets it walk around with a little girl who has absolutely no power over it is very alarming.

When you think about it, there seems to be an alarming amount of interest in pitbulls in this town lately. And all of them, as far as I can tell, are in the wrong hands.

Hmmmmm...

Shiba: 1, autism: 0

As you may know, I currently have the good fortune of having two young people with autism in my life. They're awesome. Which is not to say autism is awesome, because it sucks for them. But for me, these two are way more fun than the average two nine-year-old kids.

One of them has apparently infinite energy and determination, but significant impairment in language, and not much obedience to authority. This makes most people think he's "difficult".

Meh.

Today I decided to take this little dude (we'll call him "Mr. T") and Tinky-Winky for a walk. I had tried to borrow a bigger dog, thinking the kid would have more energy than Her Majesty, but apparently, I don't know anyone who wants their dog walked. Whatever. So Tinky-Winky, Mr. T and I set off for a walk along the Kiwanis Trail. I let her off the leash, as we haven't had a good off-leash in some time. And Mr. T, obviously, was not on a leash to begin with.

Hmmmmm...

Initially, Her Majesty was full of energy and ran off in all directions, and I kept having to call her and call her. Mr. T, on the other hand, stayed close to me. From time to time he chased the dog, or I chased him, and she chased one or the other of us. A good time was had by all. When we got to the ice crossing, however, Mr. T decided to go across. Her Majesty followed him enthusiastically. I tried to recall them, individually and severally, and they would have none of it. Then they took off together into the deep snow where I can't follow them. For a dog who doesn't like little kids and a kid who is allegedly scared of dogs, they hit it off extremely well. I guess Her Majesty found a kindred spirit.

After this part, I was still hoping to get things under control, when Mr. T decided to walk all the way to the store on the Reserve, and Her Majesty decided first that she wanted to go home, then that she'd rather go with the kid. Argh! The Reserve is full of lose dogs, we're gonna get our clocks cleaned!

Luckily, Tinky-Winky being after all 12 years old and out of walking shape because it's winter, I was able to catch up with her and leash up. Now the thing is, the leash always makes her walk slower, and meanwhile, Mr. T was still making for the store.

Fine.

So I had to carry Her Majesty a few times as she got more and more tired. And the kid started slowing down as well, so I asked him a few times "go back?" and he said very firmly "no go back."

Ok.

Finally we got to the store, he picked a snack, I paid for it, and we started on the long way home. 4 km. Great... He sat down a few times to rest, but didn't complain. Luckily I had my cell phone with me, so I figured when he gave up walking, I'd call a cab, rather than try to carry a 70-lb kid home. But, he kept moving. We got to the river and I figured we'd walk back along the track that's been cleared for the upcoming dog races, but no, Mr. T evidently had a clear mental image of how he came, and he was retracing his steps in the opposite direction, without hesitation. And strangely, even though he was behind me and Tinky-Winky was ahead of me, she started to veer to the right the same time he did. By then I was following a snowmachine track and couldn't deviate from it, because I'm too heavy, whereas the kid was walking fairly easily on top of the snow. We got quite a ways apart, but when he got to a good spot to sit down, he did so, and waited calmly for me.

So we kept on walking and walking and walking. The dog was dragging along and I had to carry her from time to time. The kid was starting to lean on me and sit down more and more often, but still didn't complain. Of course he doesn't talk very much, but when he isn't happy, he makes it very clear. But no, he just kept on walking and walking. We were only about 500 m (about 0.3 miles) from the car when he finally spelled "T-I-R-E-D" in the snow with his finger.

Cool.

On the one hand, it's cool that he was able to identify how he felt physically, he decided to communicate that to me, and he did so effectively, because those are three things that are separately difficult for autists, let alone doing all three at ones. It's also very cool that he walked 7.5 km before he got tired enough to say something. So I told him yes, me too, I'm tired, but we're almost at the car now. So he got up again and kept on going, and recognising that indeed we were close to the car, he actually started running again.

So the moral is two-fold. Or... no, at least four-fold. First of all, this is exactly the right kid for me. Too bad he's already spoken for. Second, we really need a bigger dog, because Tinky-Winky is clearly too old to keep up with Mr. T.

Third and most important, it's actually easier to walk a kid with autism than a shiba. Seriously. The kid listened to me more and didn't have to be carried. He didn't run madly off in all directions, pee on everything, eat garbage off the ground, or snarl menacingly at other dogs. Except for his unlimited endurance, he's much easier to walk than my shiba, who is actually rather easy, for a shiba.

And thus to the fourth moral of this story: if you can't handle an autistic kid, don't get a shiba. You may think you're the new Dog Whisperer or that you're even smarter than the actual Dog Whisperer, but if you can't handle autism, a shiba is way beyond you.

Single-bed dilemma... or not

For years, I have wished to go back to sleeping in a single bed. When Tinky-Winky and I moved into our furnished apartment, I asked the landlady if I could have a single bed, but they had none. So for the last four years, I have been sleeping on the hide-a-bed, and Her Majesty favours me with her company... when she feels like it. But now, by coincidence, the landlady had two single beds on hand when I was getting ready for the quasi-foster child, and I borrowed one. Thus I now have a single bed in my house, and I intend to keep it, in case more children come over, and because I always wanted one.

The advantages of the single bed seemed too numerous to count. First of all, I won't have to make the bed every night and put it away every morning, so I won't spend so much energy just on getting in and out of bed. And when I have insomnia, I'll be able to get up, sit on the couch for a while, and go back to bed when I'm sleepy. The apartment looks much more welcoming now, in my opinion, and at night my bed doesn't take up the entire place. And I can have a nightstand with a lamp and other nightstand-ish things on it, which wasn't practical with the hide-a-bed. It seemed perfect...

and then it hit me: where is Her Majesty going to sleep?

Oh no!

Well, obviously she can keep sleeping on her bed, which is her favourite anyway. Or she can sleep on the couch, which she likes too. In fact, I don't think she really likes to sleep on my bed, even though lately she's been doing it of her own free will a lot. So maybe it wouldn't matter to her, but it matters to me. She's my dog and I like having her on my bed.

Accordingly, last night I went to bed in the single bed for the first time. Tinky-Winky considered the situation and decided to jump up on the couch, where her blanky was. So I got up, picked her up, and put her on my single bed.

And...

she plonked herself down and went to sleep. No trouble whatsoever.

So, apparently I was worried about nothing. I can have a single bed and have my dog sleep on the bed.

Of course the downside is that she takes up most of the bed and I'm not quite sure where I am supposed to sleep, but that's really just a detail. As long as Her Majesty is happy, all is well.

Things that are poisonous

An anonymous reader commented that grapes are poisonous to dogs. Hmmmmm... Good to know. So for my own information, I googled what else is poisonous to dogs, thusly. But for those who don't want to read the article, here is a short version:

Alcoholic Beverages
Apple Seeds
Apricot Pits
Cherry Pits
Candy containing the sweetener Xylitol
Chocolate
Coffee
Grapes
Hops
Macadamia Nuts
Moldy Foods
Mushrooms
Mustard Seeds
Onions and Onion Powder
Peach Pits
Potato Leaves and Stems
Raisins
Rhubarb Leaves
Salt
Tea
Tomato Leaves and Stems
Walnuts
Yeast Dough

It should also have tobacco. And if you think people don't give their pets tobacco, my uncle had a sheep who did tricks for cigarettes. He ate the cigarettes. The uncle later died of lung cancer; I'm not sure what became of the sheep.

Tinky-Winky and the foster child

Tinky-Winky and I have a little girl staying with us this week. She's not technically a foster child in that the government hasn't intervened (yet), but she kind of is in that she got dropped off with a complete stranger because none of the people who have a legal position in her life are available to take care of her. Anyway.

The thing is, little girls love Tinky-Winky, and Tinky-Winky does not like little girls. So Little Girl is always trying to play with Tinky-Winky, and Tinky-Winky is always running away from her. Most of the time I intervene, but as soon as my back is turned, like when I go have a shower, Little Girl is harassing Tinky-Winky again. Her Majesty is not amused.

Also, Little Girl doesn't really care to go for walks, and she walks really, really slow. We have to walk the dog regardless, and it's good for her since she's overweight and she insists she wants "seven big dogs". But it annoys Her Majesty. Plus today is horribly windy, so Tinky-Winky chose to come back home without pooping. Oh well. She didn't really eat last night anyway.

So, Her Majesty is out of sorts. She hasn't slept on my bed since Little Girl got here. Well, at least she hasn't slept on Little Girl's bed either. That would annoy me.

The moral of this story is, I don't think Tinky-Winky is in favour of having foster children in this house. I guess she'll be really unimpressed when the little autistic twins come sleep over. Still, I believe in putting people ahead of dogs, but this is her house and her life, not just mine. People who can't get along with her will not continue being welcome in my house. After all, she was here before them and she'll be there long after they're gone. Loyalty goes both ways.