Lost in the White Stuff…by Lisa Harmon January 30, 2010

Kenai looking for a playmate, 2 yrs old

My apologies for taking so long to get this post up. The past couples weeks have been tough. Kenai started acting oddly not long ago and having tummy troubles. Another bacterial overgrowth in the small intestines lead to the icky stools and vomiting.

He’s still fighting the yeastie beasties in the ears, and his brother is badly bothered by a skin staph. Mostly though, that strangely intense behavior reappeared in Kenai style full force last week; intensely over-excited about critters, intensely rough playing, intensely fearful of people/things he’s used to, intensely stubborn about going here rather than there…

It’s like adolescence, exponentially ramped up on steroids. Just totally out of character and intractable. Even our trainer shakes her head in disbelief! There’s an unnatural intensity, like like his limbic system is on fire, and he just “goes native”, overreacting to everything.

That’s how I know to check his tick titers again. Always the personality going sideways. He’s still got a good weight, 130 pounds, but he’s not himself.  This time it is the rocky mountain spotted fever that is the dominant organism. He’s clinical, that’s for sure.

At least I can look back and understand those times when he went all weird on me. Like the puppy class freak outs, and the sudden inability to handle going places he liked to go. It was so absolutely perplexing back then. Small comfort, but at least it makes sense.

 There’s the neurological stuff like fear/dizziness on stairwells, refusal to cross shiny floor surfaces, vast increases in whining, bloodshot eyes, secondary infections (skin staph, yeast in the ears etc)…add to that, add to that.

He’s having a hard time to say the least. Oy my boy. Needless to say, I’m exhausted. He lets me get about 2-3 hours of sleep at a time, for the most part. Sometimes 4 hours. Ouch. Sleep Dep is the, THE, worst possible thing to do to a body with CFS/FMS, not to mention the inner ears go bezerk.

But we  are trying to make the best of things, with short car rides in the evenings when he usually feels the best, and as much outside time as I can endure. Kenai has his own “salt lick”; a tub of cream cheese to get him to take his medicine and eat his food. He even watched me write his name on it!

Poor BB’s maddening itches have been partially usurped by Kenai’s crisis. But little buddy is getting attention too. He gets his baby baths–soaked with witch hazel and rubbed down with a tea tree oil spiked lotion. He gets to play outside with big bro, which makes him uber happy.

He gets attention, just not as much as he’d like. Par for the BB course, right? He knows something’s wrong, getting upset when Kenai is lethargic or sick to his tum. He really gets bent out of shape when I tell him Kenai has to go to the vet. Oh the hound howling when that happens.

Little bro all worried. He parks his bony baby butt on the bed and looks out the sliding glass door for hours until I bring Kenai home. Beebs is NEVER in one place that long for anything else! They may drive each other bonkers, but they’d be lost without each other. The Brothers Grin. 

Just when I start sliding into the poor-me, I discover a dear four footed fellow named Dylan lost his battle. He was recovering from Wobblers surgery, doing well, then was hit with a stroke. Dylan, sweet guy, you were loved, and will be sorely missed.

***

 Talos is learning (re-learning) a mannerly wait at the gate, after a self initiated gate crashing incident. Teenagers…http://smartdog.typepad.com/smart_dog/ He thought it was fun anyway, though his human was not amused. Nothing like a teenager to frighten the life out of ya.

But his “mom” is a smart lady, and had both the wits to go fetch the hot dogs, and the good fortune to have other dogs to feed them too until Talos brought his juvenile self back inside the yard! Nothing like a touch of competition to make the left out boy give up his chase-me games.

My two knuckleheads won’t be getting out much until next week, thanks be to a honkin winter storm. We got about 10″ of snow, and out here in the boonies, that means it takes awhile to get out again. The drive way is 1/4 mile uphill, with three sharp corners. Miss the corners, it’s a 20 foot drop. We sit it out!

But the boys get ample reindeer games in the snow, having nothing else to do! There’s enough of it this time that you could literally lose a Maltese! Kenai is 35″ tall and the white stuff is over his hocks, to give you some idea. And prissy boy don’t like cold toes for something as blah as just going potty.

I’ll get lots of pics the next few days, but I’d better get this post up while I can. Then it’s nap time, a la pain pill–I’m too old and beat up for all this shoveling! 

Yes Virginia the “Dumb” Dog is Smart…by Lisa Harmon January 19, 2010

Kenai in an “adaptive intelligence” learning moment. 2 yrs

A comment came from a 6 mo old puppy’s owner. Their sweetie has decided bedtime and play time are not mutually exclusive *grin*. She’s waking them up for attention at night, which can grow old fast, huh? My advice was to completely ignore her once in bed. No getting up, no petting her, not even so much attention as a scolding or told to hush and go to sleep. Even once reinforces the wake up call.

It got me thinking how smart the four leggeds are! I surprised Mom by telling her she has a doggie genius called BB when she didn’t think he was as smart as Kenai. I really shocked her by saying he may be smarter than our beloved past love Shabah…how much of the time are our dogs learning without us noticing?

Dogs are vastly smarter than people may realize. They are hard-wired to adapt to their environment, but more than that, they are wired to adapt their environment to themselves whenever possible. It don’t take much for them to figure out they can, either.

Something as small as one self-initiated “do this-get that” episode is enough to teach a pup that they are able to have a cause and effect impact. If they annoy us enough, we get up. If they are rude enough, they can interrupt what we’re doing. It’s not malicious, it’s just dogs doing what dogs do–learning how to get what they want.

That ability dogs have to figure things out, and even train us at times, is called “adaptive intelligence”, one of the three categories of doggie smarts: (instinctive intelligence, adaptive intelligence, obedience-based intelligence). 

I’m not a behavoirist, I’m not even particularly observant. But I do like to read, and can assemble lots of information into an understandable format. So this post is for the scholastic among us: what I have come to understand about canine intelligence.

Instinctive Intelligence

A key difference between the intinctive and obedience types of intelligence is what the dog focuses on. Instinctive intelligence dogs are almost always focused on the environment: guarding breeds on the potential threats around them, hunting breeds on the prey nearby, and herding dogs on the herd are perfectly good examples.

Dogs high in this category are throwbacks to the days when dogs were less for companionship and more for doing a job. They learn best and most often through environmental cues and rewards, often without any human participation. Many of the breeds that fall into the high instictive intelligence group still work for a living today. 

• Malamutes: the epitome of a cold weather working dog, they are still earning a living at pulling sleds. A large number are non-working companions, but they have retained their desire to work, and take happily to hauling either a sled in Alaska or a backpack on a leashed walk.

• Bloodhounds–the nose that knows! Today’s applications are search & rescue, drug and bomb detection, both sport tracking and police tracking. Trainers say that these dogs are single minded once they’ve caught a scent, to the point they must remain on a leash or they will follow that scent right into traffic or other dangers.

• Rat Terriers–Confident, determined, and high energy, terriers were created to hunt small rodents. Anyone with critters in their back yard and a terrier in the house knows…Most people use D-con or an outdoor cat rather than a rat terrier these days, though a tendency to vocalize has made them a small version of home “protection”.  

Obedience Based Intelligence

A past love, Shabah, was scary smart in the obedience based intelligence–he was the one with a 200 word working vocabulary. Yikes. Obedience intelligence is noted by how enthusiastically and quickly a dog learns via human commands and rewards. These dogs live for doing what you want, willingly doing repetitive tasks, and are extremely interactive.

• Collies–like most herding breed dogs, they excell at just about any human orchestrated activity. Agility trials, flyball, and even still herding sheep are some of the ways these dogs get to use their type of intelligence today.

• Labs–the various retriever breeds make up the vast majority of working service dogs in this country because of their quickness to learn a skill and reliability at performing that skill repeatedly. Default behaviors are a way of life!

What Difference Does It Make?

Which of the 2 categories your dog comes down in will determine how you train them, what you can train them for, and what they want for a reward. Simply put, knowing if your dog is an instictive learner or an obedience learner tells you how to make the best use of their Adaptive Intelligence .

Adaptive intelligence is the ”do this-get that” learning we watch (and lament?) every day. Dogs with a good dose of adaptive intelligence are the problem solvers of the doggie kingdom. They adapt and learn, as they figure out how to get what they want. Anyone who’s had an “escape artist” or a lovable pest has run head first into adaptive intelligence! 

Adaptive intelligence manifests differently between the breeds known for instinctive intelligence and the breeds with obedience based intelligence. But it’s presence isn’t particularly tied to breed. It is found in most all dogs, with either of the other two types of intelligence.

Nearly all dogs have roughly the same amount of intelligence, according to Patricia McConnell. Barring the dog that really is dumb as rock, of course. Had one of those…lovable but empty headed. The question then is what kind of smart are they (and am I smart enough to figure out how to train them).

A key component to using a dog’s adaptive intelligence to train them is determined by whether a dog falls into the instinctive intelligence or obedience intelligence categories: knowing what the dog actually wants as a reward.

The lab may find a treat and pat for a sit more exciting than a squirrel, but a terrier won’t! The trick to the terrier is making the squirrel chase his reward. A bloodhound wants to find the source of a scent as his reward, so if it weakens in that direction, they will find and follow the path with the strongest scent to get what he wants.

Obedience intelligence dogs learn and adapt mostly via human responses.  Aussies will figure out what you want through cues such as a treat for a sit, a frown for a mistake, or even get up to go with a minor shift of your weight. The hound doesn’t pay that much attention to you, generally speaking!

One of Each

The poster boy for obedience based intelligence in my experience is BB. Howly Wows that boy will do anything for food and attention. I swear I could teach him to dust the piano and sharpen my pencils! What Beebers wants more than anything as reward is the treat and pat. He watches everything you do, in hopes of earning a treat and pat.

He is also off the charts when it comes to adaptive intelligence if you would allow me to brag a bit of our bent bottoms boy.  Beebs is an outstanding dog at discovering how to do this-get that. All it takes is one time of getting what he wants from doing a certain behavior and he will try it again and again. Here’s an example or two:

• with his gimpy leg, BB has a tendency to “clip” you behind the knee if he walks too close on the left side. Add to that his bump and wiggle nature…ka-splat goes the CFS weakened crazy aunt. So our trainer had a session where she used a dowel that would touch his body if he was too close and treats in an outstretched hand. One session was all it took, and it doesn’t need practice to maintain.

Now walking farther away on our left side than he does on our right is just what he does without being asked. It’s default. Treats and lots of affection was all he wanted, the influence of high obedience intelligence. How fast he learned it and how quickly it became a default behavior is the measure of his adaptive intelligence.

• while trying to figure out how BB knew when I was going to up before I actually got up out of the recliner, before I’d even put down the foot…finally it hit that he was watching me enough to notice when I moved my arm down between the recliner and the end table.

He was paying attention to me (obedience intelligence) while Kenai looked out the window. Now every time I am about to get up, BB gets up  in hopes of something fun (adaptive intelligence). It can get annoying, the pop-goes-the-puppy thing, especially since what he’s learned doesn’t go away if it’s not rewarded. But that’s our little wumps.

Then there’s Kenai, the poster boy for instinctive intelligence. Kenai scans his environment constantly, acutely aware of everything around him and every change in it. He can change pace during a leashed walk with me without ever breaking his attention from what’s around us. He notices if the objects on the dining room table have been moved.

Kenai also makes up his own mind about things, and I have far less influence on what he’s feeling than his instincts do. BB I can call off a scent in the field, but good luck with that if it’s Kenai with his nose to the ground. He’s got all the instincts of the hunting Danes of old, by the ton.

Unlike his brother, you often have to get Kenai’s attention if you want him to do something. He’s looking elsewhere. He’s a very easy and obedient dog in terms of a companion, being a quiet natured and tolerant fellow, but he’s more of a tracker than an obedience trial candidate.

That doesn’t make him less smart though. Kenai is also an off the charts boy when it comes to adaptive intelligence.  Like most instinctive dogs, teaching him a default behavior that doesn’t come naturally to him, which requires lots of repetition, can be a difficult endeavor. He gets bored.

If you understand an instictive dog’s desires, and reward what does come naturally (capturing), it will very quickly become default, not to mention stick like duct tape.  

• when he was about 10 wks old, Kenai noticed my breathing changed when the allergies were bothering me. I noticed that he noticed (boy wrinkles are so cute), and called him over so he could smell my face and get used to the sound. I rubbed his ears and gave him a bone to get him back out of my face.  I had inadvertantly created a medical alert dog, all the while thinking it was a simple interaction with a tiny tot.

Here’s how it happened: I rewarded for noticing, which comes naturally to him, by allowing him to investigate the strange new sound. I then unwittingly reinforced his tendency to lose interest after noticing and investigating by giving him an even more favorite thing, ie the good gnawing bone. All three are habits of intinctive intelligence. 

The adaptive intelligence shows up in how fast he learned it: just a couple more times of reward. Considering he was 10 wks old, that’s phenomenal. It was easy because it all just came so naturally to him, even at that age. Now he notices but doesn’t neccessarily come see or smell if all I’ve got are the lightweight sniffles.

Kenai will wake me up if a little sleep apnea hits because of the cold or allergies. It took a few days for the dumb human to figure that out. Mom actually did, when the both of them noticed I was doing the apnea trick, and he woke me up from a nap in front of her. He also gets up and comes if I’m coughing heavily. 

***

My sweet “little” curious George here is listening for his Grammy to pop out from behind the kitchen island. Boo is fun, ya know. It is very near impossible to sneak up on him, not with that portable radar installation on top of his head!

He’s been having lots of outside time (oh the legs ache). With all the snow melt and recent rain it’s sorta like watching a bout of 4-wheeling, too. The nasty foot washing’s been happening every day too, poor prissy baby. The carpets would be a lovely shade of earth without it! (When I do start seeds, it’s not on the carpets…)

Hopefully it’ll dry up for awhile after this next rain Thursday. But it is late winter, and with spring coming, both he and I should just resign ourselves to the muddy hound stuff till May! He has such fun in the out of doors, I suppose the soapy toes is worth it to us both.

Super Size Post…by Lisa Harmon January 14, 2010

“I have ARRIVED…” Kenai, 2 yrs old

Kenai is a habitually stoic sort of fellow. Recognizing what he wants or feels is more often than not a subtle affair. Slight changes in ear position, the pitch of a whine, the length of a sigh is about all the explanation you get. You have to be paying attention and you have to know him. Well.

However, there are times…

In this pic here he had been trotting around playing in the other room, then suddenly the unmistakable thunder of Kenai on a mission was heard (from afar) and he vaulted into that position. “I am HERE and I want OUT to play!”

It would seem indoors was not satisfactory.

He’s had his playtimes early in the morning while the ground is still frozen, in an attempt to avoid the melt-mud. By dark yesterday the snow was about half gone, and now we have a butt buster skating rink that once was a driveway! Slippery!

“Brown” doesn’t have to pay much mind to such things as terrain, endowed with immense snowshoes for paws, complete with claws to dig in if needed. His more narrow footed, clawless, and balance challenged human is another story…

I skirted the garage to the “potty patch” this morning–snow pack is easier walking than sheet ice. Hence, we did not have our play time right away in the morning. I was hoping for a little softening of the slush. Only problem: the living room toy box simply would not do anymore. 

My subtle, quiet natured brown bear was in an overt mood. Being amazingly slow to become insistant, when Kenai does get in a mood about something, I usually give him what he’s after. So long as he’s not ill-tempered about it, anyway. 

Wonky Kenai is the fault of me and the fibro/fatigue: I’ve neglected the exercise and interaction too long. Usually 2-3 days is all the laying about he can take. He has a remarkably patient disposition, so when he’s gotten in a mood, it’s been a long time building. out we went.

 He wanted some seriously intense exercise. Nothing was supposed to interfere with our games I discovered, including the camera. When I pulled it out of the pocket he gave me a look.

“Are you at it with that camera again! Give it a rest and play with me!”

I was hoping to get maybe one really fabulous pic of him, but he refused to co-operate. Anytime the camera went into position, he flashed me the look, complete with donkey ears.

Still hoping for a snappy shot, I had the bright idea of picking up something he could chase. That usually brings out the boy wrinkles and expectant bright eyes.

Donkey ears is what I got.

“QUIT with the camera already!”

He was plenty happy to chase the magnolia seed pod, but he was not interested in posing, not in the least. 

If you’ve ever wondered what manly annoyance looks like in a self-possessed Great Dane, well here you go:

Guess that’s the closest I’ll get to Kenai’s Picture of the Week today; the sight of an indignant snort. I put the camera away and started to play. But his snorty attitude got a little snotty, and he started swatting at me instead of running around. Hum.

We had a flashback to adolescence for a moment, when he thunked me with his chest and walloped my sorest leg with a good hard swat. He knew it was too hard, too, and gave me a look of “what ya gonna do about that”. You can tell when they do it on purpose.

Just for that, I left him in the kennel. I walked away, all the way into the house, yippee yip apologies unresponded too. Oh I was coming in to get BB for a romp, but Kenai didn’t know that. I always tell him I’m going to bring BB out, and he waits patiently without yipping.

All he knew was he got rangey and I left him all alone for it. He hates to be alone, btw, so that “punishment” counted big time. I asked Mom to let her boy out when she got the chance, and went back to find an ever so happy to see you boy.

Beebs was out the door shortly, and the Brothers Grin had themselves great gobs of run-with-me, circling the kennel. I’ll go in and out of the kennel, moving back and forth according to who’s not playing hard enough to wear themselves out.

We three had a good time, and their happy meters were all pegged when it was time to go inside.

***

You can see Beebs is looking better than a couple months ago, but he’s lost a bit of weight the past couple weeks. Both boys have me pinned between a rock and a hard place about their diet.

The rock: they need enormous amounts of food to gain and hold weight, roughly 8-10 cups of calorically dense Eagle Pack a day. The large amount has a tendency to put enough undigested carbs in their guts to be a breeding ground for “bad” bacteria and yeast. Intractable diarrhea follows.

The hard place: they may not be digesting some nutrients well enough, but they over absorb minerals like giants are prone to do. If I give them enough food to gain muscle, it makes their bones and joints hurt, putting them at risk for skeletal problems.

If you are a veterinary nutritionist or work for a dog food company, would you explain our plight at work, and tell the boss I’m not above begging for help? This is not an uncommon situation with giant breeds who have malabsorption issues. These two just seem to be extra difficult. We’ve been struggling with the malabsorption for almost 2 years, and confounded every vet we’ve seen.

I would love to have a dog food company develop a high calorie, low carb, low macro mineral kibble! That would solve the problem, wouldn’t it? Something with an absurdly low calcium/phosphorus content, with nearly no grains/startches, so they could have 10 cups without bacterial overgrowths or risks to their bones and joints.

We need someone both brilliant and pugnacious to come up with a food for the Brothers. Know anyone?

***

Before I forget again (who me?), I wanted to paste in a comment by Jenny from the Wobbler’s page:

I just wanted to let you know that I am starting a facebook group as an offshoot
from the yahoo NeuroDogs group. Please join us to discuss wobblers treatments
and recoveries and to share your stories. So much for so many to learn from! Now
we can be found under the Neurodogs name on both yahoo and facebook.

Those sites would be a great thing to check out if you’ve got a dog with Wobblers or other neurological issues. Wobbler’s is a disabling, and potentially life threatening disease, caused by deformities in the cervical spine.

Big time hard to treat for many dogs. I thank God my experience with it was limited to a mild case in my late brother’s dog. It can be a devastating diagnosis, as response to treatment varies from dramatic improvement to even worsening symptoms.

My heart goes out to anyone whose beloved pup is afflicted with Wobblers.

So as not to end on a sad note, here is 24/7 BB in all his glory: (who else can be relied on at all times for a good chuckle?)

If you can’t laugh at that, there’s something profoundly wrong with you!!

He and I have a new game: thunk a chunk. I was walking along with him the other day, and my boot inadvertantly hit a patch of snow from underneath. Some of it sprayed, having been a very dry sort of snow. But one chunk held together and went rolling. Ka-Swat!!

BB squished it, then started watching my feet for another chunk to thunk. If I’m standing still kicking at snow, thunk a chunk is a variation of whack-a-mole. But if I’m moving around, it’s an even better chance for chase.

Ever the opportunist, he’s become a downright pest anytime my foot gets near the white stuff! If I’m not kicking it, he’s licking it and eating the stationary chunks. I have created a monster! Oh but it’s so much fun…

  

Soda Pop Carton Day…by Lisa Harmon January 9, 2010

Kenai’s play day, 2 yrs old

Here is a classic puppy conundrum: he don’t like bathtubs, but he wants his soda pop carton. (The bathtub won btw).

It’s been so cold here, 5-20 below zero, that there hasn’t been outside run time in several days. The boy funky’s been storing up, and they’re getting frustrated. Kenai actually tried to bull elephant smush me the day before. Twice. Big time trouble, bud!

We’ve let them play tugs and nippy over the expen more than usual, for an energy drain. There’s no hearing the tv during that, but they have fun with it.  Unfortunately the expen is still needed–the brothers grin get way too carried off in heavy duty horsing around without it.

Kenai is so vigorous, with a preference for smash and smush, and BB is every inch the sore loser. Things get out of hand very fast. I know, something I need to work on. Just don’t have the stamina for it right now.

Add to that the weak, depressive, cranky energy from Mom…BB’s actually returned to the old possessive/protective behavior about her. He nipped me the other day when I went to wake her up. Hum…that didn’t go without response, lemme tell ya. It’s all anxiety, and it won’t stop totally until Mom gets herself together. I can manage the behavior, but she has to end it.

Dogs as sensitive as Danes go a bit loopy when a member of their “pack” is that emotionally unstable, almost without exception. All variety of not so good reactions come out of them. I hope Mom decides to pull herself outta the blue, but after so long, I’ll believe it when I see it.

The thing about depression is medicine alone doesn’t really “fix” the problem. It takes the edge off, but it’s underlying beliefs and innate tendencies that keep us in a depressed state. Stuff like believing “that shouldn’t happen”, or the habit of withdrawing is what has to be taken on and dealt with to really end depression.

I love her but Mom’s never been willing to deal with her internal self. Sometimes I get really frustrated with the, well bluntly put, cowardice. If something makes her uncomfortable, she throws up her hands and says I can’t, won’t even try. It’s always been there, just gotten much worse lately.

That helpless game’s a deeply ingrained mechanism in Mom. It won’t change until she determines to change it. She has to be miserable enough to want to, and her misery threshold is absurdly high. She regresses to whining, demanding this or that, and generally acting like a baby.

It wears thin. I blow off here, though, thanks to your tolerance of my own bit of whining. What’s the point of going off at her? Won’t do any good. Even pointing out the thoughts and habits that keep her depressed is pointless until she screws up the courage to make the changes she needs to.

The boys are additionally stressed by Mom’s state, and no way to burn it off when the bitter temps keeping us inside. So I decided to let them take their frustrations out in a controlled way: soda pop carton shredding. They get to absolutely wreck something, without getting in trouble, AND they get some fun doing it. Add the chase me chase yous and you’ve got doggie exercise. Voila!

Kenai was up first, in the master bath since his “messin with sasquatch time” in there has been boring him lately. (Brat?) Teasing and outright theft is encouraged–more the fun–as is keep away games. Snitchy snot!

Anything to keep him moving, which slows down the shred. A run to the bed and back is also boy fun, especially if you goose the bottoms on the way by…

When he gets a chunk ripped off I grab another peice and “paddle” him with it until he decides it’s too annoying to ignore.

Oh the flusterations! I toss his carton in the walk in shower, trying to convince him the tight space won’t melt his parts or something, which occasionally works. He’s no dummy: he’s seen me get all wet in there!

When the once intact carton is in a thousand peices, Brown loses interest. If he’s got more destrucion in him, I’ll let him have a go with a plastic soda bottle. Yesterday, though, he was satisfied. It was time for a cuddle and baby massage on grammy’s bed before BB had his turn.

Kenai likes his front feet and legs rubbed, neck scratched, and long strokes down the back. He’s not much on tummy rubs, though. He also loves the cheek to check leans and hugs. Okay, who’s trained who? I seem to have lost track of that somewhere…

Next was BB’s turn. Mr enthusiasm. He couldn’t wait to get his slobber on his very own soda pop carton. He knew what time it was–ran along all the way to the kitchen and pointed out where HIS carton was. Just to make the wait “worse” I carried it on my head all the way to the master bath. On the head!! Oh, no like!! Make a boy SILLY!

The bathroom was on purpose too–he’s been shy of going in there for some reason, getting all anxious and puppy jumpy. That meant playtime in there to develop some good associations. The moment we hit the doorway he hesitated, and I threw down his carton. Play won.

Playing with BB is a bit different than Kenai. Beebs will invent his own games if he’s bored with the usual routine. And to really get him playing requires very little increased excitement from you. He’s usually all over place happy.

This time, he retained some skittishness of the bathroom, so we had to tone down the excitement to keep him out of that heightened state of nerves.

We had gentle play times. Not like I haven’t had practice encouraging a nervous Kenai…

I got on the floor with him, stroked his sides while he stomped his carton to mush, and generally kept it low key. No goosing for him. I also went into the shower with his carton, and gave him soft kisses when he came in to get his shredded cardboard.

He’s not a big hugger, rarely still enough to want it, but he’ll let me do it some. Guess it was reassuring to him, and little bent bottoms hugged and ripped at the same time! A little chase me made things more fun, but chase yous made him too jumpy. He was even subdued about tug, which never happens.

(platypus puppy with elephant ears…)

Little lumps also discovered the joys of playing whack a mole, a game long ago adopted by big brother. I’d swish the carton around with my hand or foot and boy soon learned a foot on the carton didn’t win him the prize.

Paw on the slipper did though! He he he, fun!

Since being in the bathroom was stressful, even playing, I kept the playtime short. And to burn off the stress we got him running back and forth between Mom and I in a fun game of “find me” all over the rest of the house. He loves his find me games, and the running is a good outlet.

That was it for my legs, though I let one or the other pup follow me when I’d get off the couch to scavange lunch etc. We’d do a little peek a boo or something, just for fun. The idea is to keep the brain entertained. It only sounds easy…THE DOGS ARE SMARTER THAN I AM!! At least during a fibro fog.

Next week we’ll finally get above freezing, which means mud from stem to stern as the snow melts. Hence, play time will be in the morning when the ground is still frozen. But at least they’ll get out in the sunshine, right? And the furnace will be able to keep up at night, too. Love the little luxuries like warmth, don’t you?

Until next week, it’s knitting weather and that’s what’s in the plans. Stay warm ya’ll.

The Brothers Grin Have a Snow Day…by Lisa Harmon January 4, 2010

Kenai is finally satisfied with his snow play, 2 yrs old

Halfway through the coldest winter in ten years…Saturday night began the snow, by Sunday night we had 6″ of dry snow. We’ve got more coming and subzero highs this week. Yikes on bikes, man. It’s not much to speak of for you northern cold toes (you know who you are!), but we usually get maybe one or two snow storms per winter. We’re on number 3 with no end in sight.

With bitter cold wind, I’m the one you’ll find holed up. But Kenai was having an outright BB-fit to get his sasquatch snow shoe paws in the powder. This is how the 40 minute long tundra adventure began.

Notice the wonky ears, pickled up lips, and generalized squirreliness? That means get him out to run it off or he’ll be scolded off and on all day. Kenai rarely needs scolding, but from time to time he gets a tad sideways of himself.

So I made a clothesrack of myself, trying on all my clothes at the same time! Bundled up, snow boots on (ya really should put them on before layer 30 or you won’t be able to see your toes…voice of experience), and out.

 Here is the brown bear burning off the jet fuel.

He really let it all hang out too, my little athelete.

I wonder if they’d let me enter him in the olympics?

After a solid 25 minutes of Kenai running (me waddle), it was time to go back in and warm the oversized paws.

Toes are cold, playtime over!

He was ever so satisfied with his play time, walking majestically, and slowly with me back to the door. As opposed to how he walked coming out to play… imagine him with long hair and you’d have a malamute.

But HRH Kenai had had all the reindeer games he wanted and was ready for his royal nap. But…

Once again, as usual, little brother interfered with Brown’s plans for a snooze and cuddle.

BB was wound up tight enough to pop his own little self. I could hear him getting in trouble before I even got back inside. Oy, yoy don’t bother to take off the boots…bananna butt got put out the door and I trudged to the field behind him. A pox on chronic fatigue, btw, and fibro too. Ouch. Cold not good, cold hurts. At least BB will wear himself out without much assistance.

Mom’s a crank when she doesn’t feel good, and now she has my sinus infection. It was best that I took him out for a romp: I’m his number one play buddy. Crazy puppy is allowed outside. I even encourage crazy puppy outside. After all, crazy puppy outside equals good puppy inside. 

This was his reaction when Beebs saw me coming–He knows I know the best ways to set off puppy games! Oh the excitement’s enough to make a boy have the happy shivers.

BB is the funniest looking pup you ever saw when he’s in the throes of boy fun. His little bent bottoms gallopols in every direction, and he checks to be sure you’re watching. It’s the most fun with an audience…

One of his favorite games is ring around the rosies. Cedar trees, couches, toy boxes, tree stumps–anything vertical will do. Ring around the rosies is even better if you “pick your moment”…

I’ll let him get into the run arounds in circles until he’s forgotten about me, then BOOOO–jump out in front of him!

Beebs loses it, doing crazy puppy zoomies. Goose the tush and he will bunny hop, then do a great big silly zoomie. Off all my dogs, BB is without question the goofiest character of them all. He’s all about the O-play-with-me. If you need a panty peeing laugh, I’ll loan ya our booby boy for an hour.

Another thing about BB:

he’s highly photogenic. If you can get him to hold still long enough, that is. It happens on occasion, though. Maybe once a week? At most.

After the frozen world explorations, I finally got to roast my rump by the fire a few minutes, then head for the long awaited Kenai nap. HRH was well ahead of me, already doing the boy bottom crawl up on the bed when I got there.

We gave it three full hours of snuggled up snoozing, and all were contented the rest of the day. ‘Once upon a time there was a four pack…they lived happily ever after” Until supper time anyway. A bowl of yummy kibble fixed the hungries and all was well once more!

What’s not to love?

Bloggie Blather and Doggie Lather…by Lisa Harmon December 31, 2009

I’m ready, you ready? Kenai just shy of his 2nd birthday.

Kenai’s official name is Shakira’s New Year’s Celebration, being a New Year’s Baby, born Jan 1, 2008. I called him Kenai after the Kenai Penninsula in Alaska. Figured if I name my dogs after places I’ve been or want to go, I’ll never run out of good names.

I also try to match the name to the personality, though I outdid myself this time: Kenai is by all accounts a rugged outdoorsman! He would love Alaska, in the summer time anyway. The cold invigorates him, but only to a point–then it’s time to take his short haired tush inside!

I’m all for that.

No telling what this new year will bring, though I hope a healthy pair of baby boy bottoms is in the near future. I do know I’m dropping my health insurance–they want $600 a month, for the priviledge of co-pays. I’ve been paying them more than I cost for awhile now but holy smokes.

New Year’s resolutions? I know better… for the most part. Quitting smoking will have to wait until I’m up for the colossal battle, loosing weight seems like more effort than I can muster. My goal is to spend the winter hibernating. If I can rest enough, perhaps by spring I’ll have some energy to work with.

Kenai doesn’t have the concept of calendars down, so he’s not really aware that one year is gone and a new one has begun. His understanding of time spans from one nap to the next. “That nap done, now what we gonna do?” (I admit with embarrassment to having the same problem often enough!)

Kenai and BB endured their head and shoulders lathering, with offended majesty and gooby wiggles respectively. It really helps with the dry skin itch if you water down the H & S conditioner then rub them dry with a towl. Cuts down big time on dander. Just an FYI if your pooch has the flakes.

The boys are still enjoying their Christmas toys, despite the moo cow baby not mooing anymore, and the elephant baby’s moving trunk is broken. Appearantly the crunching of mechanical parts is as enticing as the noise they made when whole.

The big toy breaker of the family is BB, of course, Mr Enthusiasm. His elephant lasted about 2 hours. Still, he gets lots of milage, playing with it anyway. He can’t help himself. Play, play, play PLAY, play, do ya wanna play?! Rolic and frolic and make a big brown pest = BB.

And after all that character assasination…it was Kenai who swallowed his butterfly baby whole. DUH. So Wednesday night had a puppy watching vigil, and 7 am brought a rushed trip to the vet for xrays. It is (was) a small toy, one he’s played with for over a year, naturally one of his favorites.

As small, soft, and flexible as it is (was) the vets all think he’s most likely to pass it. That means puppy poo patrol for the next few days. Not to mention keeping an eye out for the early signs of obstruction if it doesn’t pass on its own.  What on earth possessed him?

He’s never swallowed anything but food or treats, even as a puppy. He didn’t chew on household stuff, he doesn’t mouth things either. He shall mourn the loss of his little butterfly, yet it shall not be replaced. Kenai is forever stuck with average to xxlg toys, by decree of “she who must be obeyed”.

That was a funny show, by the way, “Rumpole of the Bailey”, where she who must be obeyed came from. The old Bristish comedies are hysterical. “Are You Being Served”, “Black Adder”, “Upstairs Downstairs”…if you like to laugh at the ridiculous that isn’t ridiculous-stupid (Will Ferrell?), you might look for one of those shows.

Talk about a blog that can blather…how did I manage to combine Alaska, canine intestinal obstructions, hibernation, human health insurance, dandruff shampoo, and the Black Adder into a semi-rational post? “Oh give me a home where the brain-o can roam…”

Well, where ever my brain my be, my heart wishes you a very happy New Year.

Snows on the Toes and Snows on the Nose…by Lisa Harmon December 28, 2009

Kenai, aka Sir Snooze Alot, waking up from his nap, 5 days to his 2nd birthday

I’ve been thinking about puppies lately–it seems everyone I know has a new puppy or wants one. Hopefully you will pardon me for a bit of preachy here. I try to get people to consider what exactly they want in a dog and choose the pup based on that. Unfortunately, most puppies are picked according to cuteness or this time of year are a “present”.

Christmas present puppies are a bad idea. At least as most are not picked out according to what the person recieving them want or need in a dog. Present puppies are often a spur of the moment impulse buy, and unless you know exactly what you’re looking for you can get in big trouble!

A friend of mine got a puppy from their grandchild last year. A cute little black lab. They’re in their 80’s and wanted a toy breed for lap sitting. Now these elderly people have a wild 60 pounder who can’t walk on a leash, took 5 mo to mostly housebreak, doesn’t get anywhere near enough exercise, and knocks them into the wall on the way by.

She’s a smart dog, and would be easy enough for some people. But she was not well chosen for the couple she was given to. This is a very common scenario, sadly. If you want to give a puppy to someone , BE SMART about it–give them a leash and collar as a down payment for a puppy to be wisely chosen at a later time. Help them decide what sort of puppy they want and fits their lifestyle.

1. Energy–do I want a pup to go running with me or to snooze by my feet? How much time can a reasonably expect to devote to exercise and training each day? Am I currently able to provide the additional time up front for housebreaking, leash training, and other puppy lessons?

2. Costs–some breeds require special care, ie regular groomer visits, or breeds that have more health problems than others. Bigger dogs eat more kibble, giant breeds have problems on cheap dog foods, large dogs in the car will mean trips to the car wash for upholstery cleaning.

3. Personalities–more timid pups are less likely to do well in loud busy homes, stubborn pups are not for the person shy of firmness about no means no, sensitive dogs aren’t a good fit for an authoritative sort of human. There’s not much sadder than a dog and human who love each other but have clashing personalities.

4. Breed instincts–if you don’t want to deal with a tendency to protectiveness, don’t get a pup from a guarding breed. If you don’t want to deal with very strong chase instincts, avoid breeds with hunting in their past…choose the breed wisely, asking the breeder about what behaviors you can or cannot expect from the potential puppy as they grow up.

5. Environment–if you don’t have a fenced yard, you might reconsider getting a dog whose breed has less then astounding recall or a tendency to wander. If you have allergies or dislike a “lived in” home, you probably don’t want a heavily shedding dog. If you live in an apartment, you’ll want to look for a quiet dog that doesn’t bark much.

I cringe when I hear someone got a puppy for Christmas, but it doesn’t always turn out sideways. That said, resist the tendency to think the pup is so cute and it won’t be such a big deal to change your lifestyle, schedule, or budget. A dog that turns your life upside down doesn’t usually work out well for either of you. They need to fit.

If you’ve already recieved a Christmas puppy, or already given one, then let this be a post to help you really consider if it was a good idea. Yes, a bit preachy, but it makes me so sad to see dogs and people have a hard time living with each other. Puppies are much easier to rehome than an older dog with established behavioral problems.

If you know a pup just isn’t for you, like the lab and my elderly friends, please don’t let your affection for the giver make you spend the next 10-15 years struggling with a dog. You have to be wise enough and loving enough to tell the giver that  despite the good intentions, you want to return the pup to the breeder so it can find a home more suitable.

If you worry that feelings will be hurt, you can make the approach gentle, right? You probably are grateful for the love that went out and got you a loving little furball, so tell them that! Then tell them what you’re looking for and ask them to help you find that “just right” pup. Or that you aren’t really ready for a new puppy right now if you aren’t ready.

***

Also I got a comment which pointed out that I haven’t really addressed a common problem for giant breed puppies like Great Danes: PANO, or panosteitis. It is a problem that results in rotating lameness and severe leg pain in fast growing puppies.

Pano is primarily a dietary issue. Like HOD, Dysplasia, knuckling, and other orthopedic growth issues, the underlying dietary problem is the over-absorption of macrominerals from food. The calcium absorption co-effecient is out of normal range.

In layman’s terms, the dog with Pano or other bone problems is absorbing a higher percentage of the calcium and phosorus in their food than they should. X-rays often reveal bones that are extremely dense and thus painful, but not deformed like in HOD. 

Once a pup has begun to over absorb minerals, they will have that higher co-effecient forever. Their mineral intake will have to restricted through the remainder of their lives.  

The first thing I really want to hammer home about Great Dane nutrition is PROTIEN HAS NO EFFECT ON BONES AND BONE GROWTH. Growth deformities are orthopedic conditions, and are not caused by protien intake. 

The myth of too much protien for Danes has been around as long as dirt but it simply isn’t true, and as has been proven over and over in veterinary studies. Yet many vets, breeders, and owners still believe the protien is bad myth. http://intl-jn.nutrition.org/cgi/content/abstract/121/11_Suppl/S107 and http://intl-jn.nutrition.org/cgi/content/abstract/121/11_Suppl/S99 are excellent studies to read and refer a vet too on the subject if you hesitate to let go of old beliefs.

Aside from studies, common sense goes against the myth: Protien builds muscle, not bone. Minerals build bone, and if you have bone problems, minerals will be the culprit. The reason many associated protien with orthopedic problems with high protien is that foods with large amounts of protien (like grain free kibbles) often have dangerously high mineral contents too.

I’ve had a dog that developed nutritional HOD from a food supposedly designed for Danes, ie low protien. The minerals were still high. It was horrible watching him deform and twist and suffer, so I don’t follow claims–I look at the nutritional analysis. A  1.1% calcium  content in food thought to be ideal, which might change as giant breed nutrition becomes better understood.

I don’t feed pups a food with more than 1.2% calcium because it is getting high enough to increase the risks. The phosphorus content is intricately related to how calcium is absorbed, so I get uncomfortable when the phophorus content is above 0.9%

Pano has a genetic component, in that the tendency to overabsorb minerals can run in families. But controlling how much macrominerals are available in their diet will stop the pain, lameness, and prevent the development of even more serious ortho problems later on.

***

Back in my personal petting zoo…

The boys had a happy Christmas, despite the dead camera battery. Duh. I’ve been managing to get them out to run every other day reliably, though they really do want every day. This cold has gotten into my chest now, and my blood oxygen is low enough to worsen the chronic fatigue. But the boys have enjoyed the snows on my nose!

I can’t tell if he’s trying to look like a platypus or a cutting horse! Heaven knows he has the face and the turn for either! Kenai has such vigor, it amazes me. He is easily the most atheletic of all my Dane loves, easily. His enthusiasm for outside never ends.

Love the stick, the ice on it not so much…COLD! Unless little bro is on the other side of the fence, the lure for his coursing, Kenai trots around with the occasional outburst of a zoomie. And pees. Just in case the roaming cats and critters didn’t know this was his kennel.

He’s such a good boy, my Kenai. He’s mellowed a bit about the critter encounters, I think from the super cold temps. He’s in such a hurry to get inside he doesn’t care about the turkeys! Still gives me problems with intense excitement when he sees moving animals outside, but that’s going to be a long term fix I fear.

I’m hoping to take the rest of the winter to really rest, so I can regain some strength and endurance. Once the reserve energy tanks have something in them, I’d like to return to weekly public training. Maybe by then we’ll have their digestive problems sorted enough to be able to use training treats? Too much to ask for maybe, but here’s hoping. 

Hope your Christmas was a merry one, and the New Year brings you joy and blessing!

Foggy Fun For Boys…by Lisa Harmon December 21, 2009

Kenai in the frosty ice fog, 24 mo

Kenai’s had a boring week last week, with me doing all the baking. Friday we mailed off the dozens and dozens of cookies, which meant…CAR RIDE! We ate a Ziggies, and I let him out to stretch his legs while Mom paid. Naturally, a crowd gathered to see him.

It was good to see him all friendly and interested, rather than running back to the car to hide. He had lots of attention, and couldn’t wait to see Mom. He tried to sneak in the door to find her more than once. Durn leash, always stealing his sneaky fun!

Then it was home for a rest. It’s back, btw–the coughing and wheezing–for an encore. Yeesh, c’mon. Round three for crying out loud? Leave me for another woman already, will ya?! That meant a car ride would have to suffice for his daily excitement.

We started this week off with a visit to Dr Susan, for his puppy puncture. “Oh must we do this?” He’s such a silly boy–the same routine everytime–always  nervous when we get there, tense and twitches when the needles go in, snoozy halfway through, and perky when it’s over.

Dr Susan finally found some strong enough needles for his accupuncture, since the small ones for other dogs are too flimsy to get through. They bent and fell out half the time.

Only problem with the new ones is they are the same color as Kenai! Ya have to remember where you put them or he goes out the door with a couple! “Stop Thief!!”

He always gives her leans and cheek rubs, and always holds still despite his dislike of needles. It really does make him feel better, and he very much likes his lady friends. Tolerant boy, a typical gentle giant Dane. And she loves how big and easy to find the accupuncture points are.

Since he was a good boy, and I knew if I sat down that would be it for the morning, we had his outside romp as soon as we got home. It was bitter cold, so I had my construction worker look going on with insulated coveralls and mad bomber hat. But there was a beautiful fog, so I had to pull out the camera.

This time it was little bro BB who gave us the picture of the week. Isn’t it a good one? The fog is actually ice fog, a very rare event around here, but it sure made for a gorgeous shot of our little bananna butt boy.

You can see Beebs is looking much better, though I worry about the massive amount of food it’s taking. 10 cups is enormous, and his tendency to constipate keeps me watching to be sure his stool is slightly on the soft side. He can actually obstruct from constipation, so I want to be sure he gets it all out, even if that means “going” 2-3 times a day.

Anyway, since BB has much more energy to burn off than Kenai, I’ll let them lure course with each other around the kennel for a time, then take Beebs off into the field while Kenai waits for us to come back. Then the fence games start all over again. I swear, cutting mares have nothing on these two!

I have a shot due Tues at the “people vet”, in Brown’s vocabulary, and I really have to get the Christmas tree up Wednesday. Add to that round 3 with the cold, now trying to get into my chest, and Mom’s fussing about not going to my neice’s Christmas program at nursery school unless I take her.

I guarantee I’ll be dizzy, nauseated, ears roaring,migraine starting, could fall down at any moment if I go to a place where there’s lots of kids, lights, and noise. At night when I am a my weakest no less. Such places don’t cause Mom any problems, but she won’t go unless I take her. I have to suffer or she’ll “punish” me by denying herself the enjoyment?

I might go anyway, if I’m feeling okay but I resent the duress of it, the utterly unneccessary guilt trip crap. Yes it’s a once in a lifetime (little girls grow up). Yes it’s a special thing. I feel torn so much about wanting to see my neices and nephews, to be more involved with them.

Yet my God I pay for even short bursts of time with them. And I hate feeling like I’m drawing attention to my problems when/if I am forced to step outside or go home early. Because of my physical difficulties, I go through long spells where I don’t do much with them while I’m in a downturn. When I eventually get stronger, I’m more willing and available.

Sure that makes it hard for them to understand! Honestly, I hope they never have enough sickness in their lives to ever really understand. Perhaps it is selfish, but sometimes I’m just unwilling to be miserable for days and days afterwards. Those are MY choices, though, not Mom’s.

I’ve got to come up with a way to get Mom’s helpless old lady act brought to an end. She just had cataract surgery, ie she has 20/20 vision and sees at night as well as I do. Oh but “i can’t drive at night”… She won’t do this, she won’t do that. “I can’t” is the most often used phrase out of her mouth for the past 2 years.

I’m barely getting done the must-do’s on my list, and these demands she places on my energy for what she needs to do have got to stop. It’s not that she can’t do something or can’t learn how to do something, it’s that she won’t. There’s a big difference. The uber dependence on me is way more than my weakened body can stand up to.

So that’s my Christmas wish to Santa. I have a feeling we’re going to start clashing next year. Maybe not, but she’s doesn’t have half the physical problems I do, nor the overt physical anxiety reactions I have to deal with, so it’s time she sucked up. Sounds harsh but enough.

Life dictated by fears and I can’t isn’t life. She wants to be chained to it, that’s her choice but she doesn’t have the right to chain me to her fears too. I have my own to fight. And it devastates my already devastated energy reserves. What on earth would happen to her if I ever got married?

Wow, that was a vent…guess it’s been building up awhile?

Well, maybe I’ll get another post up before Christmas, or right after (there’ll be lots of pics of that day!). Hopefully the pups will have lots of fun sticking their noses in the kitchen to sniff the ham. And following the bone-smelling boxes from wrapping station to puppy stockings! Should be a fairly good week.

Merry Christmas to ya!

Dignity Wreckers…by Lisa Harmon December 17, 2009

“Is there no privacy…Bloggers! She got her big nose in there but did she get mine?” Kenai’s morning smoochie ritual, an opportunistic event occuring when he fusses about waiting for his food. 24 mo old

Kenai’s the kind of fellow who’s very concerned with his dignity. He even plays dignified, the stinker. He dozes leaning on one shoulder like a well fed lion. He is horrified if I try to put a winter “coat” on him, convinced he looks like a girl. He prefers to stand up tall rather than slouch. He’ll even pose for you if you want to take a picture…

But there are things that do overwhelm his sense of decorum. Noseberries, the infamous raspberry blown on the muzzle, will create enormous amounts of “that was icky” energy flying out all over the place. Those can turn my aristocrat into a golden fizz, complete with bear paw swatting.

Little brother BB’s antics can abrade Kenai’s nobility often enough too. He’s usually up to play with his little bro, but there are times…And naturally, little bro is oblivious to “don’t even think about it” body language when play is in the offing. Okay he’s pretty much oblivious to anything but play.

My favorite dignity wrecker though is the morning smoochie ritual. Kenai starts his morning by snoozing grandly on the couch until I get his food mixed up. Then the moochie starts, (he has to wait 30 min because of the pancreatic enzymes). The moochie involves nose under the arm while typing, leaning the chest on my back with head over shoulder…

How could I resist such a chance to turn moochie into smoochie? He wants his food so he takes it,

eventually deciding the cuddles and scritchy scratches on the neck feels good enough to be an acceptable way to pass the time. (Even if his “private” moment of “necking” gets put on the internet…)

That pic btw is a good shot of the ever so soft and molestable Dane jowels. You can always tell a Dane owner or previous Dane owner–first they have no shred of hesitation, crossing entire parking lots to reach your Dane for a petting. Second, the part they go for right off the bat is the jowels.

I just love Great Danes. My heart is taken with them. Yes, they’re gorgeous animals, no doubt. Kenai can literally stop traffic being watched. But more than that, Danes have this permanently endearing combination of tremendous intelligence and gentle sensitivity. Once you’ve had a Dane, you’re hooked for life.

Some days Grammy is all kinds of fun. When she’s moving around, picking up and such, there are opportunities… she’ll grab his tushie when he’s not looking, she’ll tease him with a bag or box, she’ll toss a boy an empty soda pop bottle.

Grammy’s his play buddy. (Mom is Grammy by the way, to my neices and nephews, as well as Kenai). When it’s time to play in earnest, we swap pups. I can get BB to gallopol all over creation and come back where Mom can’t. Mom can get Kenai whar-whar talking and slamming down those big paws in play bows galore.

We just play differently I guess, and they enjoy the change? Mom and Kenai’s hide and seek games turn into pretty good romps. All I have to do is say “grammy’s gonna get you” and he drops anything to look–she might goose his tush or blow a buttberry on his rump. “It’s so awful, do it again!” is the usual reaction.

I’ll never forget the first time Mom blew a raspberry on him: he swatted at her with a truly indignant whar-whar, did a zoomie indoors, ran over and leaped on the couch, and started bitching her out from behind me! “My Mommy get you for that!”  His “mommy” could barley breathe for laughing.

***

Tuesday began the annual, week long, epic struggle: cookies for Christmas presents. First were “Hello Dollies”, then the no bake oatmeal fudge cookies. Next was the first installment of toll house cookies, while waiting for the other batch to defrost. I cheat when I can, freezing some cookie doughs.

As always, comes the idiot proof fudge, 4 regular and one small batch of white chocolate/peppermint to drizzle over one of the regular batches. Lazy girl’s after dinner mints! I sometimes roll the pieces into small balls to coat with sweetened cocoa powder for truffles.

Idiotproof fudge:

Melt 2 1/2 cups of chocolate, peanut butter, or white chocolate chips in a heavy no stick sauce pan with 1 can of sweetened condensed milk. Pour into wax paper lined pans to cool. Cut into squares when cool and set.

The hard work cookies will take a day of their own. I was totally determined to make the coconut shortbread cookies this year. OMG they are sooo good, and I’m not that big on coconut. Must be all the butter? Yum.

Coconut Shortbread Cookies: approx 6 dozen

Cream 3 sticks of butter and 1 cup + 1 tbsp of sugar. Add 1 cup finely chopped coconut, 1 tsp vanilla, 1 1/4 tsp coarse kosher salt, and 1 tsp coconut extract. Mix well.

Stir in 1 1/3 cup of flour until barely blended, then add last 1 1/3 cup of flour. Mix until just starting to hold together. Divide dough in halves, roll up each half in wax paper and chill for at least 1 hour.

Roll out dough using either cake flour or powdered sugar to 1/4 inch thickness. Cut out with cookie cutters and place on parchment lined cookie sheets. Bake at 325 F for about 20 minutes, when cookies are just slightly golden.

This year I made a regular coconut batch. Then I replaced the coconut with orange extract and super fine chopped dried cranberries, using orange food coloring. Another batch had lemon extract and chopped dried apricots. A fourth batch had peppermint and dried plums. 

Some years I make apple butter cookies, which stay soft forever and have that lovely cinnamon and clove smell. I’ve made stollens, linzertort, fruit breads, and spice cookies in years past too. But the legs. Yeah.

The legs are the first to go: they shake and get weak thanks to chronic fatigue, and the fibro makes everything hurt pretty good. I just plan on having my pain medicine refilled the week before cookie week, and spend a week afterwards doing nothing. And I mean NOTHING beyond feeding the dog.

Kenai’s keen on the butter, not so much the cookies. He doesn’t really have a sweet tooth, not even for apples et all. Most of my dogs have loved sweet things and fruits. BB will eat anything with enthusiasm, so there’s no telling if he really has a sweet tooth or not! Kenai has to be an orginal?

No Bake Oatmeal Fudge cookies: (have all the ingredients measured out before starting)

Melt 1 stick of butter in a heavy non-stick sauce pan. Stir in 1/2 cup of milk, 1/2 cup cocoa, and 2 cups of sugar. Bring to a boil for 1 minute over medium to medium high heat. Remove from stove.

Quickly stir in 1 tsp of vanilla, 3 cups of quick cook oats, 1/2 cup of coconut, and 1/2 cup raisins. Drop onto wax paper with small ice cream scoop to cool and set up. Makes 15-18 cookies.

***

Talos the Dane SD candidate has hit his adolescence http://smartdog.typepad.com/smart_dog/…

The long ago bred in guarding and hunting instincts seem to start showing up at that age, and the not pups anymore but not grown dogs have to learn how to manage them in today’s modern lifestyles.

Having been created to hunt (bears and wild boars), and used for guard duty as well, Great Danes still have those instincts. Particularly the chase instinct and protectiveness. Adolescents have to figure out all over again what’s acceptable and what isn’t, while being influenced by newly appearing urges.

I doubt the teenage “years” are any less confusing to our dogs than to human kids. Those new desires are intense and irresistable. It doesn’t seem that any amount of pre-adolescence training or habit forming can prevent the advent of at least some behaviors: you just have to let them hit and work them out.

Sure, lots off excellent socializing and training before adolescence will reduce the number and variety of unwanted stuff, but you can’t tell me Talos’ lady slouched on anything! Nope, adolescence just hits and they have to be shaped in all new ways because they now have different instinctual behavior.

Not all Danes will show the habits of olden days–my Shabah never had any interest in chase or was at all a stand at the window guard puppy. I think he gave all his to Kenai for a double shot. Kenai’s a serious throwback to the Danes of a hundred years ago.

I had hoped for another Shabah when I went looking for an SD candidate 2 year ago–Shabah was unearthly sensitive to what I was feeling and responded by touching me or interacting. Either he seemed to understand what I was feeling was for internal reasons, or he just didn’t have to grapple with the hunting/guarding instincts Kenai does.

Kenai is actually more sensitive, but rather than tuning into me, he goes looking for an external cause of my emotions in our environment. Laughing, he looks for the cool fun toy. Anxious, he looks around for anything scary in the yard. No dear, the stray cat doesn’t need chasing away to make me feel better…

As much as I love him, my golden grizzly is the polar opposite of Shabah. Kenai would have been much more suited to tracking or lure coursing, belonging to a human with the legs to handle such physical efforts. He’s got the big time drives, and athleticism, that’s for sure!

***

The BB nose has been getting in trouble about every 20 minutes with all the baking. He’s too curious for his own good! Then the cookies become forbidden fruit, and we all know how that turns out… hasn’t managed to get one yet, but he’s plotting. Stinker.

So Beebs has found himself banished from the kitchen, and the dining room with a mounded over table full of fudge and cookies. To make matters worse, he had his puppy pedicure yesterday–those terrible clippers! As long as there’s soft talking and yummy treats, he’ll endure it though.

We’ve got a couple days of relative warmth, then it’s back to the deep freeze, so Beeber bottoms is getting his run about at least once a day. Does that make up for not getting swiped fudge for breakfast? It does keep him calmer, so he doesn’t drive me bonkers about all the activity in the house.

They’re lots of fun, the Brothers Grin. Lots of work too at times. The trick I guess if making the work fun. There is lots of work yet to do, if I ever get a spell with no demands on my energy to rest up and get strong. Maybe by spring they’ll be healthier and me too.

Goofie Goobers and Dumb Birds…by Lisa Harmon December 13, 2009

“I hear that silly bird again…” Kenai 23 mo

Our hopelessly dense bird is back again. Every winter this dumb-as-a-brick cardinal spends its days trying to hammer its way through the window. Peck, peck, thunk, peck, peck…The only way to stop it is put the blind down, at least most of the time.

At first Kenai would bark at the sound. Now I think he just gets aggravated when the noise wakes him up from his naps. He gives it this “look”, the one he uses on his brother when BB antics disturb his dignity…I can almost hear his thoughts “Dumb bird, THE WINDOW DON’T OPEN, get a clue!”

Speaking of BB antics, Beebs has discovered the joys of peek-a-boo again. He wasn’t much on it as a puppy, but now it’s the best game in town. Anytime I spy a BB nose peeking around a corner, it’s “I seeeee you!”, and he gets a big case of the wiggles.

Peeking over the couch is the funniest. I keep tryin to get a pic of it. There’s a brown crown of the head, the bells of 2 ears, and a pair of blink blinks. “I seeeeee you!” is followed by the rustling sounds of wiggles and a tail wagging in the bags of Christmas presents.

Do this several times in a row and he gallopols around to the front of the couch and has a wiggle fit–it’s a zoomie done without running, a specialty of his. The best, THE best moment for a goose the bottoms! The goofy goobers get the best of him and he has to race to the kitchen and back a few times.

Kenai’s been my trusty box shredder lately, reducing the stacks of shipping boxes to small mounds sized just right for the trash cans. Maybe it’s all the chase me chase you games that makes him love box slaying? “Gimme that you boy, I get you, I steals it, he he”.

He’s also been my trusty nap companion. He always naps with me, but lately he’s wanted his closeness, you see. Sleeping in the living room, I take over the twin size matress that is their communal bed during the day. (Oh Lord when will the weird neuro stuff go away!)

He feels the need to rock me to sleep there, I guess. It’s a twin size! But roll me up on my side and here comes the boy. He leans up against my legs, effectively pinning me to the wall, and begins cleaning his appendages. Lift the head, rock me back, lick the leg, roll me forward.

There’s nothing quite so fun as being seasick at bedtime…NOT. I like the leans but the rocks not so much. At least the afternoon nap time is done in Mom’s king size bed, which cuts down on the clausterphobic pinned in place feeling. Silly boy.

Today will be a mixed bag for the boy. We’re heading out for a midmorning breakfast, so Kenai can hitch a ride, which he’ll like. But the viewing for Melba is this afternoon, which means he stays home. The funeral will be tommorrow, and he’ll have to stay home for that too.

If the knucklehead would get well…we’d finish his training and he wouldn’t have to stay home! But such isn’t life at the moment.

The rest of the week will be cookie baking, fudge making, and lots of on my feet all day. Ouch. I try to do the cookies last thing before Christmas, because it wipes me out bad. There won’t be much decorating or anything else the week after cookie baking. Double ouch. Fibro pain from hell, and too fatigued to care if I don’t get a shower. Yeesh.

But everyone loves homemade cookies and fudge for Christmas. My sister in law in Seattle is super concerned about nutrition and stuff, so I don’t know how much if any the kids get of sweets and such the rest of the year. But they get an actual bucket of sweets from me!

Hopefully it will all be done by Friday, so I can get the cookie buckets mailed off to the neices and nephews in Seattle. Then crash for a week. All that’s left is put up the tree. That can be done in peices, though, bit by bit. And no, BB you can’t help with that!