Lost in the White Stuff…by Lisa Harmon

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

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

“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

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

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!

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