I hate people

I got some stories to tell you when I feel less lazy, but for now, I'm a' bitch about my roommates' dog.

At the house here in Winnipeg, there are three dogs: Her Majesty, a two-year-old Jack Russel named Spencer, and a five-year-old shih-tzu named Fluffy. Of course Her Majesty is practically perfect in all respects. Spencer is a nice little dog, though he does pee when excited. (Well then don't get him worked up. Duh.) Fluffy is a problem.

But to make one thing clear: Fluffy is a problem because his people are a problem. His nominal owner is a 16-year-old girl who acts like a toddler. And she's babysat by her 19-year-old boyfriend, who seems like a fairly decent, responsible young man, but he has never had a dog and I don't think he particularly wants a dog. But since he was fool enough to shack up with this chick, he gets to clean up the dog's shit over and over in the living room while she does nothing. Ever. Once in a while she turns the dog out the back door, contrary to City by-laws of course, and lets him shit wherever and does not pick it up OF COURSE and also contrary to City by-laws. So now the back of the property is disgusting. And that doesn't really help the dog because he has no idea when he might next be let out. One time I told her the dog wanted out and she said "he ALWAYS asks to go out" and stayed in bed. So I took him out. But most of the time he doesn't even bother anymore. If he has to go, he craps in the living room. Poor thing.

After being spoken to repeatedly (I think it was after the sixth time he crapped in the house in eight days), the girl came up with the idea of turning him out in the little fenced area out front, which I was hoping to use for flowers in the summer. So much for that. And once he's in the pen, she figures she doesn't have to think about it anymore, so she leaves him for half an hour, an hour, as long as it takes her to remember. Then brings him back in without cleaning up, OF COURSE. But he, the dog, doesn't like that, so he's found a way to get out of there, and he simply runs around to the back door and asks to be let in. Earlier today he either was attacked by one of the neighbours' cats or fell on the icy stairs, because he was squealing and crying like a lost soul. Did anyone even notice but me? No. And the little bitch won't speak to me so much as to say hello, so unless I want to be constantly chasing her down to list the things I had to do because she won't look after her dog, I don't get a chance to talk to her. Let me tell you, I do NOT like her.

The other day, I think it was Tuesday, the boy and I had a long conversation, wherein I explained repeatedly that if they would take the dog out on leash at least every four hours, and walk him on leash until he craps at least once a day, the problem would not exist. So he, the boy, suggested we share the dog-walking. Ummmmmmmm... So how would that work? I take your dog out when I walk mine, and you take my dog out when you walk yours? Great, except you NEVER walk your dog so what this really means is "can you just walk our dog in addition to yours so we don't have to be responsible?"

No.

Ok. So the boy has made some attempts to walk Fluffy, about once every two or three days. But he "walks" for about 45 seconds and comes home, which is hardly helpful either. Then, Friday, he sees I'm about to take Her Majesty for a walk, so he's like "can you take Fluffy?" Yeah, I guess... Of course I don't particularly like Fluffy and Her Majesty REALLY doesn't like Fluffy because he's not fixed and his goal in life right now is to lick her ass every time he sees her, so we're not too happy, but it wouldn't be charitable to say no. So I said "sure, where is his leash?"

Er...

He doesn't have a leash.

Dafuq????? How can you own a dog and no leash? Then again, the dog isn't fixed, vaccinated, licensed, trained or liked, and they never take him out, so why am I surprised? So, the boy and the dog tagged along. Dog crapped on the sidewalk. No attempt whatsoever to pick it up. Then it occurred to me: this guy doesn't even know that you just don't leave dog shit on the ground. Sigh...

So anyway. We COULD lock up the dog in their room when they're away so he would crap where it doesn't become my problem to clean it up, but then he freaks out and makes an insane amount of noise. He can carry on for hours. And it upsets Her Majesty. Sigh...

Today, they all got up late and with a sore head after a late night (that's another problem, but not dog-related). The girl went out in her skivvies to put the dog out, but he suspected they were going out so he ran right around and came back in, without relieving himself. And then as everyone was getting ready to go out, he remembered that he had to go and started begging to be let out. Little bitch kicked him away, and everyone left. Hmmmmmmm... Now I can either take him out myself, or wait till he shits in the living room, clean it up, and report it to the landlady. The first solution is kind, the other is better for me. So, I took him out. No surprise, he pulls on the leash.

And did that solve the problem? HELL NO! Now he knows he can get me to let him out, so he keeps annoying me for more. Fuuuuuuuuuh...

My consolation in all this is that he has shit sticking to his fur (that's not good) and... he lies on their bed when they're not home. Baaaaaaaaahahahaha! But then again they don't seem to mind dog shit, so maybe they're ok with that.

Also, I should mention the little bitch kicks Fluffy, yells at him, and when she's home, mostly demands that he stay in his kennel, which is not a pen but a small travel carrier not big enough for him. She had a ferret for about a month and didn't clean the cage once. And she has three hamsters and is always yelling at them to shut up. And that's nothing to how she treats the boy. If it weren't illegal, I'd lay the mother of all beatings on her.

Have you seen a basenji?

Notice how people with purebred dogs will ask for the breed when their dog is lost? "Have you seen a basset hound? Have you seen a corgi? Have you seen a Chesapeake Bay retriever?" Friend, I could see a whole herd of Chesapeake Bay retrievers and I wouldn't even know it. Can you describe it?

Get this: the guy looking for the Chesapeake Bay retriever described it as "a brown dog." That's all. No size, no coat description, no ears or face... Goes from very specifically "Chesapeake Bay retriever" to just "brown dog."

As it happened, I hadn't seen a brown dog. But if ever your dog is lost, I rather recommend describing it rather than counting on the average citizen's knowledge of dog breeds. When I'm looking for Her Majesty, I ask people if they've seen "a little orange dog with a pointy face". Because "shiba inu" means nothing to them, even after I've introduced Her Majesty many, many times. (I keep telling the paper to do a story about her, which would be vastly more interesting than half their other fluff pieces, but so far, no luck.)

That being said, I don't have to ask people about my dog unless they're new to town. Everyone who lives here has seen me walking my dog. I know this, because total strangers will walk up to me and say "I saw you walking your dog." So in the unlikely event that Her Majesty would be lost, I can just ask people "have you seen my dog?" But most of the time I don't have to. First of all, because Her Majesty does not get lost. We've been all over this town for the last seven years; she knows exactly where she is and how to get back to her food dish. Second, when we do take separate walks, people will come find me and say "your dog is lost, she's at (such place)." Or they will look me up on Facebook. Or they will tell their friend who will find me on Facebook. In any case, I will be promptly informed of the whereabouts of The Creature. Which is very nice of everybody, of course, but I just thank them politely and don't bother going to look where they said, because by the time I get there, she'll have made her way back home. So I just stay right where I am and wait for her.

Some people's dogs, when they get loose, roam the whole town for days. Carter once ran from town all the way to Paradise Gardens, which is at least 20 km. Her Majesty would never do that. Partly because she's never been to Paradise and has no reason to come up with such an idea, and partly because she's far too lazy.

So the moral is, as it always is, walk your dog more. Then your dog is less likely to be lost, because 1) it will know the way home, 2) everyone else will recognise it as your dog, and 3) it won't be tempted to make the most of its scarce freedom.

Andiamo, Mama!

Sunday morning off-leash

Pet your dog thin?

I was reading this book about addictions, and I learned some things. As you may or may not know, the brain, human or otherwise, secretes a variety of hormones to make us feel good or bad. I call the good ones "brain rewards". I knew this already. I didn't know that one of the brain rewards is oxytocin. One thing it does is induce labour, but also, it's a brain reward related to attachment activities, and an analgesic. And the important thing here is, attachment.

So that is to say, oxytocin is a brain reward that you get from interacting with other creatures.

What does that have to do with addictions? Addictions are a way to give ourselves brain rewards when we're not getting them through normal processes. Which is why people who say they eat to make themselves feel better aren't actually lying; they're just not creative about giving themselves brain rewards. So they eat, and get a brain reward related to eating. But that doesn't exactly replace the brain reward they're missing, so they keep eating.

Likewise with dogs.

Do I have a point? I do. Tinky-Winky and I are dog-sitting Carter again. Carter... Oh wait, I forgot to post my other post, so you don't know the back story. Anyway, Carter overeats. I explained that in the post I forgot to post. When he wants a brain reward, he eats. When he has no food, he asks his person for food, and she gives it to him.

Not me. When Carter whines, I pet him. Or I brush him. He loves being brushed. When I stop brushing him, he goes to sleep. Without having eaten.

Hmmmm...

My theory is, Carter cries because he needs a brain reward, not a food reward. If I pet him or brush him, he gets a brain reward, therefore he doesn't eat. Therefore he doesn't get fat.

On the other hand, it's also possible that he doesn't eat when I dogsit him because he misses his own humans. But I like my theory.

Doesn't matter anyway. Petting your dog lowers blood pressure for both you and the dog, and fills some time that you both would normally spend stuffing your faces.

You know what else? If you walk your dog, he gets exercise, therefore he's less stressed and difficult - and also less fat. Also you are less stressed and difficult, and also less fat.

Funny how doing the right thing for your dog also happens to be the right thing for you. Oh wait... Yes, that's easily explained by 12,000 years of living in packs together. Or maybe we formed packs together because we need the same things. Either way, spend more time petting, brushing and walking your dog. It's good for both of you. And besides, why would you get a dog if you're not gonna pet, brush and walk him?

A three-walk day

Tinky-Winky and I have been on two walks a day for about a month now, which is not good for me as I'm gaining weight. For her, however, it seems to be working. She still occasionally drags her feet in the evening, but mostly she has enough energy for her two walks.

Today, however, she was feeling peppy. She woke me up at 3:55 am, not for any particular reason, but because she was awake and I wasn't and she desired my company. So, we went for our walk. When we got home, I went back to bed, and she actually jumped on the bed on her own, which she hasn't done in a very long time. So we went back to sleep and got up around 10:00. By lunch, she was fidgetty again. She kept wanting attention, and then walking around the apartment, and then back to me for attention.

After lunch, I spent more time with her, playing with rawhides, going through her tricks, cuddling with her... Usually after a while she'll go to sleep, but she continued wide awake. So, I took her for an afternoon walk. We drove around to the beach, which is no longer suitable for walking, having been ruined by squatters over the last three years, then we walked along the dirt road looking for interesting things to look at. We didn't walk very far or very fast, but even so, when we got home, she looked tired. She slept like a log the rest of the day.

For our evening walk, therefore, I thought she wouldn't want to go very far, so I took the route that allows her to turn back any time she wants. But she actually led me all the way around with good energy and no foot-dragging. Then she had to have seconds of dinner, because she had worked up quite an appetite.

Maybe she's feeling better because the weather has been cooler, or maybe the rest has done her good. Or maybe this was just a good day for her. Sometimes when I look at her now, she's starting to look her age.

Attitude adjustment, day 2

Yesterday was ok. On the morning walk she went back onto the road... That's annoying. Then she came back onto the trail to look for me. I didn't go out in the afternoon because it wasn't good insect weather. Evening walk, she was slower, but still not too uncooperative.

Her new thing now is she doesn't remind me of her evening walk, she reminds me of her morning walk. That makes sense since that's her offleash walk. On the other hand, her morning walk is at 4:30 AM, so I suspect I'm gonna regret getting her into that habit sooner or later.

Attitude adjustment, day 1

Our morning walk went great, as I already told you. In the afternoon, I got ready to walk, and the dog watched me. Then I just walked out of the house. Without her. I wonder what she made of that. I had a perfectly lovely walk all by myself. Then I came home. I'm pretty sure the dog knows I went for a walk without her.

Since she was short a walk, I figured she'd be asking to go for her evening walk fairly early. So I'm sitting on the couch doing whatever, and I look at the time and it's 8:40 pm. Um... What? Her walk is supposed to be at 7:00. So I says to her "you dog, why aren't you telling me it's time to walk?" She gave me a blasé look without even lifting her head off the pillow.

Hmmmmm...

Well, too bad. I started getting ready to walk. The dog watched me. When she saw me pick up the camera, she gave a funny little squeak and ran for the door. Nonetheless, when I was ready and grabbed her leash, her expression gave a distinct sense of "oh, bother." So I told her, skipping the evening walk isn't an option, because she has to relieve herself. (Technically, that's not true, she can go literally days without relieving herself, but I don't approve of that.)

So we stared at each other for a few seconds and then she came to leash up. Great, I thought, that's gonna be another fight.

Not at all! Once we were outside, she moved forward in a nice active trot. She had to smell a few things, which I allowed her, within reason, but she didn't get tangled in the leash, didn't get itchy, didn't have to pee every twenty seconds, and didn't yank on the leash to go in different directions all the time. Aaaaaaaaah... That's nice. I even had to step out a fair bit, which hasn't happened in quite a while.

I was prepared to let her pick the itinerary, and expected her to turn back fairly quickly. Our protocol is that on evening walks, we can't turn around until she relieves herself. In the afternoon I don't care because she won't have long to wait for the next one, and in the morning she's either off leash or if I'm working, we walk a set route and go home whether she's gone or not, because otherwise she'll hold off so I can't go to work. She's wily. Anyway, she relieved herself and kept right on going. I was following her, in defiance of Cesar, and she chose to go by the so-called "ravine" trail. It's not a ravine, it's a paved trail along the old spillway. There are no ravines around here. Anyway, the town has been cutting brush in the ravine, so the mosquitos are very, very angry. So at first we were doing fine, but after a while there were so many mosquitos on the dog, I decided to run.

So, we ran. I used to jog and I've run with Tinky-Winky a few times, and she really likes it, actually. Walking is too slow for her. So we ran most of the length of the ravine, even though at this time I'm totally out of shape and I don't have running shoes. Tinky-Winky is as feisty as ever, though, and because she's such a good dog, she actually runs right beside me on a slack leash, like a polite little dog.

Then we got home, and the elevators are acting up. When they're not in use, one comes back to Main and the other to 2nd, and sometimes the one that's on Main doesn't open when you hit the button, but it "thinks" it's open, and the other one "thinks" things are under control, so nothing happens. Then you have to take the stairs up to 2nd and get the other elevator. And Tinky-Winky gets tired pretty quickly on stairs. I let her go her own pace, but she petered out after about eight steps. Then I carried her the rest of the way.

Because she's such a good dog, I gave her some cheese in addition to her dinner. Now she's all passed out on the floor.

She may have her fits of attitude sometimes, but she's a great dog.

I think I've walked my dog enough

What?? How is that even possible?

Well, I didn't think it was, but yesterday, for the first time that I can remember, Tinky-Winky didn't want to walk.

Our afternoon walk was short because she was being uncooperative and I didn't feel like putting up with it. I figured we'd have a good evening walk instead.

Evening comes and I'm getting ready for our walk. Tinky-Winky is lying in the hallway, watching me douse myself in DEET and put my shoes on. Then I grabbed her leash, and she stayed right where she was.

?

I jingled the leash. She stayed right where she was.

??

At this point I realized I didn't have the camera, which she associates with walks. So I grabbed it and showed her I had both her leash and the camera. She got up and took two steps towards me, and then turned around.

???

She looked back and forth between me and the living room for a while, and then ran back into the living room. I followed her to see what she was doing. She was getting a drink of water. Then she came to me and after some more pussy-footing, she got her leash put on.

Wow, that took long enough.

Finally we get outside and she just will not walk. She is constantly finding excuses to stop and pull in any direction but forward. And I kept looking at her and wondering if she's tired, or sore, or old, but she looked fine. She didn't have her head down or her tongue out, she didn't move like she was tired, and she had plenty of energy for fighting me.

We didn't get very far before I got tired of dragging her along and turned back. And she trotted all the way home at a good clip without stopping for anything. So it really wasn't about being tired; she just didn't want to walk.

Ok, so this morning I bring her back to the same spot, which isn't our usual off-leash walk. Normally in the mornings we go along the paved trail and then the road. I'd rather be on the nature trail, but I tried it all winter and she takes off and runs on the road instead, so I gave up. But now when we're on the nature trail, she's constantly finding things she allegedly wants to explore. So fine, let's go off-leashing on the nature trail.

It went perfectly. She stayed on the trail and ran along ahead of me, staying mostly where I could see her. When I reached the point where we normally turn onto Gaetz, I did a U-turn instead and walked back along the road, and she still stayed with me. Full of energy and happiness, big smile, bright eyes, everything. And when we got home she didn't hem and haw about leashing up and going inside, either.

So, clearly it wasn't about fatigue, it was about attitude. Which is worse, actually. Fatigue is cured by rest; attitude is a much more baffling problem, especially in a little dog. So since I don't have a strategy for bad attitude, I'm going to treat it like fatigue: by reducing her walking. Since she doesn't want to walk on leash with me and it's not really possible to walk her off-leash twice a day right now, she can stay home when I go for my afternoon walk, and in the evenings we'll have a short walk on the leash. It works out well for me anyway because the afternoon is prime insect-watching time and I can't chase insects and fight with the dog at the same time. And hopefully she'll appreciate her walks more when she's getting less of them.

Passive-aggressive dog

No, I didn't get a new boyfriend. I'm talking about my actual canine dog. (Haha, a joke!)

Consider the following:


This is Tinky-Winky. Sitting. On the trail.

Why is Tinky-Winky sitting on the trail?

She just is.

See, Tinky-Winky doesn't like walking on the leash, so she's always finding all kinds of reasons not to cooperate. "I'm itchy. I gotta pee. My foot is caught in the leash. I gotta pee again. Grass is tasty. Something smells funny over there. I gotta pee! Wait, now I gotta poop. Ow, itchy. Oooh, something smells interesting. Mmm, tasty grass. My foot is caught in the leash. Let's go this way now. I gotta pee. ITCHY! Wait, I need to get those sticky tree things off my paw pads. I gotta pee."

Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!

She doesn't even actually pee. I figured that out in the first year. I used to let her stop to pee, but not to sniff at things. Then I noticed, she'd squat to pee and nothing was coming out... she was just pretending so she could smell at things. What a snaky creature!

In the winter, the cold keeps her moving along at a certain pace, but now that it's warm, grannies with walkers get impatient when they're stuck behind us. It's really painfully slow. For a while I thought she was getting elderly and tired, but no, she's just resisting. If you take the leash off, she's off like a shot. She just doesn't want to cooperate with the leash.

This is a new one, though. Just sitting down and choosing not to walk. Just like that. The Gandhi of dogs.


And for good measure, she gave me the "poor poor little puppy" look. Oh, yeah, you snaky thing, you're so hard done by! As if!

Pff. Sometimes you're lucky I love you.

Poor sad little dog

We woke up this morning and it was raining. Pouring rain. Real ugly. So I ate breakfast and then instead of going for a walk, I just turned the dog loose. I do that when the weather is ugly, partly because I'm lazy, but also because that gives her control over how much time she wants to spend in the ugly weather. Right now, on nice days, I might have to wait for her an hour after I get home from our off-leash walk, because she's happy outside. This morning, I read three pages of my book before she wanted back in.

She came in and looked mournfully out the door. I held it open to see if she wanted to change her mind and go back out, but no, she wanted in. She cried as we walked to the elevator. We got into the apartment and she was still crying. She tried to lick her soup bone from yesterday, but it didn't comfort her. I tried to towel her dry, but we both know she hates being towelled, so she stayed wet. She was so sad I even gave her cheese, which is like cocaine to her, but she ate it sadly and kept crying. She went to the window and looked out on the world and cried. Then she went to her bed and lay down sadly. Poor little dog. She was absolutely inconsolable. Her whole world was ruined by having her morning walk rained out.

I tell you, dogs live for walking.

Suddenly, a horrible thought occurs to me

As you know, I'm always preoccupied with the fact that Tinky-Winky is going to die. This is inevitable, and barring some unforeseen circumstances, she's going to die before me. This bothers me, but actually, I'd be even more upset if I died before her, because she has no one but me to take care of her. But that's not the point.

According to the vet, shibas live "9 to 12 years", which would have her dying this year. According to her breeder, dogs of her bloodline have generally lived to approximately 16 years, barring unforeseen circumstances, like the fact that her father ran away and was killed by a car at a young age. And since Tinky-Winky shows no signs of being near death yet, I'm thinking the breeder is right. She would know, anyway, she keeps in touch with her dogs. So, I've been living with the idea that Tinky-Winky will die in 2015. But then, because she eats healthy, gets a lot of exercise, and looks nowhere like a 12-year-old dog right now, and looks better than photos of 12-year-old shibas I've seen, I've been telling myself she might well live longer than that.

But then, as we were walking this morning, a terrible thought occurred to me. I remembered reading an article many years ago about a study they did on rats, where they found that all other things being equal, mellow rats who did nothing all day long lived much longer than active rats who were always busy. The article then pondered the fact that in cultures where people take long siestas and sit around quietly in the evenings, as long as their diet is healthy, they live for a hundred years; whereas people who exercise and are always busy, even though they also seem healthy, die much younger. And it's also true in aquarium fishes that if you keep the water warmer, they're more active, but die younger, whereas in colder water they move less and live longer. So the moral is, apparently creatures only have a certain amount of activity in them, and they can spend it faster or slower, but when they run out of it, they die, whether they're young or old.

That's horrible!!!!!!

I've always prided myself on the fact that Tinky-Winky gets more exercise than any other pet dog I know. We walk three times a day, twice 45 minutes at a slow pace because she drags her feet on the leash, and once 45 minutes at a mad gallop when she's off the leash. Then sometimes we take extra-long walks. In the summer, we usually go for a three-hour walk at least every other weekend.

What if all this activity is making her die faster? Granted she's the healthiest dog alive as far as I can tell, never has a health complaint, not even a cough or an upset stomach. She can still run for hours. She can still run 40 km/h. But what if she's going to have a healthy but short life? Would it be better to walk her less so she can live longer? Her walks are all she lives for. What's the point of making her live longer with less happiness? That's absurd.

Suddenly I'm worried that I don't have four years left with her after all.

The ten-dog race

Before anyone starts thinking I'm posting these because I care about LUSH wanting to ban dog racing: I don't give a tupenny Ford about what LUSH wants to ban. I only even know about it because someone else blogged about how they are boycotting LUSH because of the dogsled issue, and I made time to read the blog, and I was disappointed by the lack of anything worth discussing. I wouldn't want anyone to think I am gonna blog something boring about LUSH and the sled dogs.

I shot these photos on Sunday for the simple reason that we have dog races the first weekend in March and the ten-dog race goes right past my house, and the weather was beautiful, and therefore I went down to take some photos. It has nothing to do with advocacy of any kind.

However if you want to know what I think of LUSH, I think it's bizarre to boycott them because they want to shut down dog sledding, but not because they want to shut down the oilsands. Seriously: we need the money from the oilsands, and if you ever ride around in a vehicle with an internal combustion engine, or you own anything that was ever carried in a truck, train, ship, or airplane, or you live in any kind of man-made dwelling, then your lifestyle depends on oil, just like everybody else's; while on the other hand, nobody's lifestyle or livelihood is seriously dependent on sled dogs. So it strikes me as rather hypocritical to get huffy about the dogs and not about the oil. Also, LUSH is not an effective advocacy group, nor do they care. They do this because it's their corporate image, that's all. And again, it's hypocritical to boycott LUSH because of their corporate philosophy, but keep buying petroleum products. Or coffee. Or any foods not grown locally. Or anything made in China. Or Microsoft.

Then again, it takes zero effort to live without LUSH, and considerable effort to live without petroleum products, coffee, food, Microsoft, and things made in China, so I see your point.

Personally, I buy from LUSH, and I don't care what they advocate against, or whether they even advocate against anything. I also like dog sled races, not because I have any opinion on the ethics of the people involved, but because if I had enough money to keep ten dogs, I'd totally be racing myself. Because it would be awesome fun.

And now I totally conned you into reading a boring, pointless blog post about LUSH v. sled dogs. Bahaha!

World's spoiledest dog

It's actually my goal in life to have the world's spoiledest dog. Not in terms of behaviour, or by buying her outfits and carrying her in a purse, but by giving her as much as possible of what dogs want out of life.

Dogs want three things in life: pack, food, walks. Which is why Tinky-Winky and I walk off-leash as much as possible. At home that's once a day if I'm working, three times a day if I'm not. But right now we're in Calgary AB for my technical training, so off-leashing is twice a week at Nose Hill Park. In fact, I picked Calgary not only because it's an excellent school, but because of Nose Hill Park. And I picked the place I'm renting because it's close to Nose Hill Park, and I picked my church because it's close to Nose Hill Park.

See, Nose Hill Park is the greatest urban dog-walking place EVAH. It's gigantic and nobody goes there. Well, some people go, but compared to the size of the park, there is almost no one. Perfect for a dog who's unpredictable in her dealings with other dogs. Also there are porcupines, and Tinky-Winky loves porcupines. Though not in a good way.

The downside of Calgary, however, is that it's located high up the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, and that leads to some pretty surreal weather. Up to last Sunday, November 14, it was warm. I didn't need a coat to walk around. Neither did Tinky-Winky, so she blew her coat with a vengeance. She looks like a rat.

In the night of Monday to Tuesday, an Arctic air mass blew in. It got to -13C (9F), it snowed, and it was hideously windy from the north. I don't remember ever being so cold in -13C. I don't remember being this cold in -30C, for that matter. It was UGLY.

After three days, the snow stopped, and the wind died down mostly, but the cold stayed. Arctic air masses get really stable once they stop moving, which is why in our subarctic latitudes back home, we get beautiful winter weather: -20C (0F), sunny and no wind. Perfect construction weather, I can tell you. So, it wasn't so bad, but it was still ugly for my poor dog with no coat. It's pretty normal for her to get cold feet at the beginning of winter, because she's getting older, but usually she gets over it pretty quickly. This time, she can't get over it, because she has no coat and her whole body is freezing.

So, I wasn't going to take her to Nose Hill yesterday, but towards park-going time, she got all excited and pushy. Poor dog. I loaded her in the car and we went. At the park, she ran up the hill all excited like she usually does. "That's going better than I thought", I thought. Then she got to the top of the hill and ran right into the wind. And she turned around and ran back down the hill just as fast as she had run up, and back to the car. We were out of the car less than ten minutes.

Today, same thing: I wasn't gonna take her, but she was begging to go out, so I took her. But this time, I took a fleece blanket along. I carried her partway up the hill wrapped in the blanket, then I put her down. She went about five steps, got cold feet, and stopped. So I wrapped her up in the blanket, picked her up, and carried her until she stopped shivering. I put her down and she went five steps, and got cold. I picked her up and carried her.

After the fourth time, she was feeling warm enough to start galloping around on her own feet. She stayed near me for a while, and then took off ahead as she usually does. I was somewhat happy that she was feeling better, but on the other hand, I was worried that she'd get overconfident and get frostbite or hypothermia before I could get to her and all I'd find would be a sad frozen little dogsicle.

Luckily, that didn't happen; I was close to her when she got cold. She had run maybe ten minutes on her own. I turned around and carried her until she stopped shivering again, and then I put her down and she ran right back to the car of her own free will again. We were out of the car for 25 minutes.

I wish we could have got a photo of me carrying her around the park all bundled up like a scarecrow. She was adorable.

So how does that make her the world's spoiledest dog? Well, I don't know anyone else who puts one tenth as much effort into making sure their dog gets off-leash time.

Zoom zoom!

Places we love to run: Nose Hill Park

Rock hound

Dogs I'm glad I don't own

I'm glad I don't have a sheltie. It's an attractive breed. I thought about it when I looked for the perfect dog. Now there is a sheltie on the street where I stay in Yellowknife, and I'm glad it's not mine.

The sheltie is always running. Always. It goes for "walks" with its person. The person rides a bike, and not slowly either. The sheltie runs like a maniac beside the bike but still pulls on its leash to go faster or to go check out other things. Then they get home, the sheltie gets tied in the front yard, and it runs back and forth along the fence like a maniac every time something walks by. I don't know what it would take to get the energy out of that dog, but I'm sure glad I don't have one.

I'm also glad I don't have a retriever. I've never even considered a retriever, because their "I love the whole world" attitude annoys me. I don't love the whole world. More importantly, what good is it that someone loves you, if they love the whole world anyway? I want a dog who loves me and only me of all humans. Even if I'm buying her love with food.

But the main reason I don't want anything like a retriever is that a retriever is a very large duck-hunting dog. No, really. I'm not sure why people with little kids buy retrievers. Because it's "good with kids"? There's no such thing as a dog that's good with kids. Some kids are good with dogs, not the other way around. I'm sure someone somewhere has had their baby eaten by a retriever and could tell you they're not good with kids.

So yeah, I'm not sure why people who have little kids and never walk further than around the block would buy a very large duck-hunting dog. I'm guessing they've never seen field trials for retrievers. I have. It involves making the dogs run through swamps and standing water all day. The dogs get absolutely filthy, but they sure don't get tired much. You have to keep at it for a very long time to wear them out. And then you still have a filthy, wet dog.

So then people take these very large duck-hunting dogs and think they're gonna walk them around the block once a day and it's all good... it's not. They're very large dogs with lots of energy. They pull on the leash, because they're not walked enough. The more they pull, the less they get walked. Then they find water or mud, get dirty and smelly, aren't wanted in the house anymore, and end up spending the summer on a chain in the backyard. Not getting any walks at all.

I'm sure glad I don't have a retriever, but I'd be more glad if other people didn't have them either. Unless of course they do a lot of duck hunting.

For the same reason, I'm glad I didn't end up getting a spaniel. My short list of dogs was either one of four breeds of spaniels, or a shiba. I'm thinking the spaniels would have been a lot more trouble than the shiba.

Altogether, I'm pretty glad I don't own a dog that's not a shiba.

Water dog: fail

Seriously, this dog does NOT like water. She'll sit on shore and watch other dogs playing in the water in horrified fascination, and she doesn't mind if she falls in the water while hunting something, but as far as playing in the water herself, no way. I thought maybe if I waded in she'd follow me... obviously not.

On the plus side, this means I never come home with a dog soaked in filthy ditch water.

How to tell if you're walking enough

When you come home from your main walk of the day, your dog should drink, eat, and fall asleep. Nothing else. If he's trying to play, he hasn't walked enough yet. And when you pick up the leash for your last walk every day, the dog shouldn't get excited. Then you go out and the dog will ask to turn around before you're thinking of it.

If your dog does these things, he's spending his energy productively in walking. If not... keep walking.