There’s birdies up in the sky ma….Kenai 2 yrs old
All posts tagged dog toys
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on March 31, 2010
the epitome of regal relaxation, Kenai 2 yrs
One of the delicious benefits of being snowed in with a Great Dane is the increased frequency of mono a mono time. This pic here was snapped after an especially satisfying game of blankie monster–the blankets steal his lambie baby there, and it runs around under the covers. Swat, stomp, and nose rummage…
Being quite the opportunist when it comes to snuggem, I had to get into all that lovely loose skin of his! He resists a little at first, leaning the other direction and looking away. It doth disrupt the aura, you know.
A man must maintain, it would seem, though I do my best to make him have to work for it! (Nevermind the less than stellar appearance of mine, btw. Snowed in means there’s no reason to worry about looking my best!
Back to boy…He’s always had the idea of “personal space”, my manly love. Even as a tiny toddles, he didn’t like to feel crowded. As he’s gotten older, though, he’s found that hugs, leans, and other close quarters are nice at times.
It doesn’t take too long before he decides to make the most of the unsolicited situation anyway–if we have to cuddle, at least gimme scritchy scratches on my neck. Cheek to cheek love rubbing is also rather nice he thinks.
I’ve also realized he is more cuddlesome when he’s not feeling good, which seems to be alot lately. I have the same problem, not feeling good most of the time. Over time my tendency to crabbiness has gone way down.
But me, when I really really don’t feel good, clear off. I’m happy to have boy leans, though. Kenai is the exception to the leave me alone! How could anyone resist such an abundance of velvety soft jowels?
As aloof as Kenai might seem to observers, there is a softness about him. His touch is soft, his heart is soft, his feelings easily hurt. Kenai is dignified, but ever such a gentle boy (when play or aggravation is not at hand anyway).
After this snuggum session, we had ourselves a nice long nap together. One good bit of news: the butterfly toy is finally out, after 31 days. I was hoping his reflux and anorexia lessened a bit because of it. But the tick disease treatment makes dogs sick to their tums. Poor guy.
His coat is holding, in pretty good shape. And he hasn’t lost precipitous amounts of weight either. Those are good things. He’s hard to get eating, but I’ll take what good I can get! (He’ll take the hamburger and ground lamb).
Monday he laid on the bed and stared out the window nearly all day. I’d told him what the weather man had said–snowmageddon # 8 was going to dump a foot of snow on us. That meant reindeer games were on the docket. Snows on my toes times. But it didn’t happen.
We got the single digit temps, we got a 2o mph wind, but all of that produced a measly 1/4-1/2″ of snow. Dry snow, too, that doesn’t form snowballs, just blows around like sand. Brown and Company were utterly disappointed. They don’t like strong winds, so the didn’t want to go out to play. We had pouty pooches all day.
A trip to a new dentist closer to home brought some good news/bad news for me. It seems my silver fillings are wearing away, one of them cracked a tooth in three places when it was put in (no wonder that tooth has been touchy), and 38 years worth of fillings all have to come out. For all the visits I’d had with the original dentist, you’d think someone would have told me that tooth was cracked.
Good news–we caught it before I wound up needing crowns or root canals, and we’ve scraped together enough money to do it. All the work will take 5 visits, the worst fillings first. So I’ll spend most of spring with sore teeth. But, (am I good with buts or what), but the mercury laced silver fillings will be gone, replaced with tooth colored resins.
Mom and I’ve made a pact to enjoy all the stuff I won’t want to eat during the spring of dental carnage. You can imagine the nutritional content of our immediate future’s diet…Last night we had pizza and brownies. Today I want wonton soup and cashew chicken. None of the above are all that great at room temperature, with the exception of the brownies. So I’m eating them hot now.
Kenai enjoyed the pizza man’s coming–I always give him a taste of cheese, and maybe a little of Grammy’s canadian bacon. I will sometimes give him a bit of the pork in my wonton soup too. He’ll like that. Kenai, btw, doesn’t go in for doggie biscuts; only meat will interest him enough to snack.
BB, who must not be at all like his brother, would eat hardwood flooring if we offered it. Choosy he’s not, nor slow to mooch. His itchies have been less aggravating, now that he’s getting both topical and oral treatments (antibiotics, pala-tech food supplements, OTC allergy pills). The new uber-powerful air cleaner is likely helping too. It has me, anyway.
We’ve settled into a grooming routine for the scratchy stink, fighting staph and fungus-amongus. (I should re-name him Scratch). He has cooties, but he’s such a cutie. Each morning after breakfast he gets a “baby bath”–a wet rag soaped with antibacterial/antifungal doggie soap, and a wet rag rinse. That’s the icky part, over fast though.
Then he gets his “itchy medicine”–a calming lotion that spreads perfectly because the fur is wet. Sometimes the lotion I’ll choose has a touch of tea tree oil or silver for added cootie killing. He likes the rubbing and howdy-pups. Affection of any ilk is manna from heaven for him, even at the cost of being damp for awhile.
Since spraying lysol makes us all want to crawl out of our hides, I put a bit of his doggie soap in a spray bottle with some water and mist all the soft furnishings. I’m a cootie-killing mamma these days, at war with staph germs and mold spores. Just you wait till I get that second monster-air cleaner on backorder. Then I’m going to attack that basement…
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on February 10, 2010
It’s touching me…Kenai 22 mo
The new week started off with an accupuncture session for Kenai, and his weigh in. He always acts nervous when the needles are picked up, but he’s drowsy relaxed 5 minutes after they’re all in. Then the ‘all done’ comes, and he’s perky pup–leanie loves for Dr Susan, trotting out to the lobby, play bowing to the rescued kittens in the boarding window.
So BOY was feeling a little better for a couple days, and had car rides every day but Thursday. He doesn’t like being left in the car much, I don’t like leaving him much, but he’s always happy to hop in and go. We even have a chase me chase you game in the garage.
I try to get at least one stop in where he can get out, even if it’s just getting out in the parking lot to say hello to someone who stopped me to talk about him. He’s been pretty outgoing for a few days, happy to greet new people again. Noises still make him jumpy, but the accupuncture really does give him a boost of confidence.
Talos the Great Dane SD candidate http://smartdog.typepad.com/smart_dog/ is learning to wait, and his puppy raiser made a very interesting and almost counterintuitive point: adding the verbal cue, ie saying “wait”, after he’s mastered the behavior.
I’m not entirely sure why. I suppose I could guess, and if I was to guess I’d say it was to make certain the word never has a history of not getting the behavior. I’m also guessing that’s part of the technique called “shaping”, where the dog learns to figure out what you want on their own.
Makes sense to think about, but certainly not what most people do. Luckily I’ve about half managed to learn to say a command only once (I fail occasionally). Yabbering a word at a dog that’s ignoring you makes the word useless, really.
The first attempt at working with Kenai when he was little without talking made me acutely aware that we two leggeds are extrordinarily verbal creatures. I had this “well how do I let him know what I want” feeling, and it was pretty strange, lemme tell ya.
After all, he can’t read so post it notes are out of the question.
I found out pretty fast that yes, dogs are acutely aware that we want something from them. Our new desire for something translates into very subtle body language, and even changes in our smell from different hormones/chemicals inside our bodies. Dogs pick up fast on non-verbal communication.
I imagine it would be just as odd a feeling to teach a dog to wait without saying wait the first few times a person tried. Those of us who’ve trained dogs before typically learned in standard classes to teach the dog the action and the word at the same time, using luring. (Nose follow the treat to sit).
The post about Talos inspired me to shape up my non-verbal communication. If dog training had a set of sacred ten commandments, ”thou shalt not yabber” would have to be up for consideration. After awhile I slide back into yabber lady, not so much while training but just going about our day together.
Dr Susan has found a supplement for the “management of stress related behaviors” in dogs. Anxiety is actually pretty common in dogs these days–the whys are way beyond me to diagnose, though I have a few amatuer theories. Whatever the reasons, anxiety behaviors can be difficult to live with, and distressing for a loving owner.
The active ingredient is called Relora, originally a human supplement, and the dog supplement is packaged under the name Harmonese. I’ve started taking the Relora too from a human supplement company–test it out on myself before giving it to the boys.
Relora has almost no sedative/drowsy effect at all, which I really like. Yet it chills BB out. He’s very much still BB, but with less octane to fly off the handle. Many dogs, like BB, have things that just make them bonkers and it’s very hard to watch the pup you love be all freaked out and panicky.
For alot of dogs, reconditioning (changing a fearful situation into a calm one) is a long tough task. I wouldn’t put BB on prescription meds for anxiety, but this supplement doesn’t worry me. It’s been thoroughly tested both in humans and dogs and has no unwanted side effects to speak of.
Exercise and interactive play is also some of the best ways to reduce anxiety and frustration in dogs. Just like for us, huh? The endorphins released, the bonding that makes them feel more secure all can relax a dog, making it easier to face something that makes them nervous.
The relora works a little better for BB than it does me though–Saturday’s trip to Sam’s was bad. To accomodate the weakness of CFS and pain of FMS I have to make several trips on different days before the shopping list is finished. And I never handle crowded places well.
But next week is stacking up in the must-do department, so I went to Sam’s on a Saturday. And Mom doesn’t even start getting dressed before 9 am, 2-3 hours after I wake her up. Her schedule and mine clash like dogs and cats. We left the house at 10 am.
Oh boy, never again. Piled up shopping carts, running kids, and irritable people all cram around you, cut you off and any other rude thing they can do without thinking. Mom goes oblivious to the fact that her parking right there to see this or that trapped me in the worst possible situations.
People need to come out of ailes on both left and right of me, several trying to all at the same time, and the nudge behind me is letting her kids hit my power cart as they run around. Mom’s cart is too close to go around and she’s a few paces off reading some label.
Reminded me of high school dodge ball in PE. I used to like dodge ball, but that’s before looking in another direction too fast made me dizzy, and the toddler screaming was so loud it was physically painful, not to mention leaves my ears ringing for the rest of the day.
Now that the scene is set…Within 30 minutes the first outright anxiety attack in 8 months was in full swing, and Mom wasn’t getting the point; I need to leave doesn’t mean an hour later. By the time I was out of there, I was literally shaking all over and using a rescue inhaler. I was too dizzy from the roaring in my ears to drive.
Then I had to deal with the way too many groceries Mom kept buying when I got home. She doesn’t realize that buying them means they have to be carried in from the car and put away? Buying in bulk for 2 people means lots of splitting up into serving sizes, at the end of a long painful shopping trip.
The whole experience drove home that no matter how long Mom’s watched me learn to cope with various problems, the reality of them and their absolute limitations don’t really sink in because they aren’t hers. They haven’t altered how she views things, like a shopping trip.
Not that I really think I can expect her to, certainly not demand. But I should have taken into consideration that she doesn’t, maybe cannot, understand what seems simple to her is not for me. And waited for another day to go by myself. Shopping’s full of difficulties and even dangers for me, whereas it’s not for her.
So I view shopping with the idea of reducing the duration, the tonnage to be hauled around afterwards, and choosing the least crowded/noisy time to do it. My perception of something as run of the mill as grocery shopping is drastically different than a “normal” healthy persons’.
And that’s why I’m rattling on about it–how desperately I wanted Kenai the Calm of way long ago to be standing there full sized and heavy muscled. His presence to calm me, his strength to steady me, his formidable looking profile and dignified aura to snap the inattentive back to awareness.
(I wouldn’t have let him pick out a roast for us, though he’s plenty tall enough to sniff all the way to the back of the rack!)
A grocery run isn’t an necessary annoyance amongst a 10 hour day of running around for me, as it is for busy moms and tired mechanics on the way home after work. It’s the personal equivalent of the war in Iraq, and I so wanted a furry golden hummer with me as protective armor.
After having to abandon the dream of Kenai the SD, at least until his soundness of body is regained, when I see someone with an SD, going places and doing things because they now can, I feel both a tinge of selfish sadness, but mostly joy for them.
It’s lovely to see, and I never fail to whisper a prayer for the brave person stepping out with trust in a fantastic dog. They live with a gigantic blessing who happens to wag a tail, however small the pup may be!
The horrible trip to Sam’s resulted in a happy thing: a puppy splurge
The new BB bear baby waiting for Beebs to see. He went gaga for it! It’s impossible to get a pic of him playing–he’s congenitally unable to hold still long enough to get anything but a blur. He flinged and flung and drug it all over creation for the better part of an hour. I could almost hear the “yabba dabba do” from his puppy heart! What a boy, BB is.
Kenai wasn’t left out, getting the green dino baby in the top of the post pic. He loooovvveesss giant babies, almost as much as he does the tiny ones. His Dino got the fling n ring treatment too, followed by hauling it up on the couch to use for a pillow/bottle to suckle on.
This pic was his Dino wake up call after the nap–touching the tush. The new toys, and ensuing rough n rumpus play put their happy faces on for the entire day Saturday. Kenai was tail wagging and bright eyed, all over content with life.
Boys and their toys...yabba dabba doo!
My yabba dabba do Saturday night was spent eating pain pills and resolving never ever again to go anywhere on weekends, especially with Mom! Poor Kenai, he glued to my hip and just hung out a wee bit closer than normal, even after the anxiety had passed. Love bud, my Kenai.
Then he stuffed his Dino in my lap to play with him. “All over ma, it’s you and me, I love ya”. I love you back sweetie…
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on October 17, 2009
On the run again! Kenai 19 mo
Whew, what a week the last one was! One of those “if it can go wrong, it did” weeks: the septic tank backed up and needs new lateral lines, the plumber’s been out 4 times to unstop the johns, the yard work “helpers” helped a little too much, the termite inspector got stuck in the crawl space…
Okay, that last one was funny. And the “helpers” really did help, getting the 1,000 foot milkweeds cut down and those giant trees split into piles ready to haul off. They just decided to rake the leaf mulch off my flowerbeds, which means I have to rake it back. (ouch, it hurts to think about).
The boys had more “practice” on how to behave when someone comes than ever before, I think. They did manage to get in some practice on how NOT to behave too. It got hard to take there for awhile without a mute button. BB especially is a howler, but Kenai helped out with that some his own self.
All told the water bottle only came out twice, and Kenai got his teenage self in heavy duty trouble once for trying to push his way out the door. If they aren’t in the same room when folks turn up, just a couple shushes and “watch the man working” is all it takes.
There’s a big trailer and a backhoe sitting out in their potty field now, and two deep trenches in the driveway from trying to find the lateral line blockage. Hum, obstacle course…using a “let’s go to the garage” I got my oversized sack of nerves to walk between the trenches the first day.
But the machinery was just too much–too nervous for more than a piddle and hotfoot it back to the door. The next morning, though, I got him to investigate with the nose, and as long as we went to the other side of the field, he could relax enough to leave a scrap pile.
The oft-cussed nose came in handy for a change!
Three days now and he actually insists on sniffing the equipment before going to his business. And checking it again before going back inside. People smells, dirt smells, who knows what else? As long as the stuff don’t start up, he’s brave as…well, almost brave.
While I was standing there watching him, I had this momentary “flash” of his puppyhood; a year ago Mr Fearless would have climbed right to the top of the dirt piles, and leaped across the trench for kicks. Several times.
I would’ve spent my time trying to get him away from it, and now I spend my time tryin the opposite. How’d that little irony come to pass?
Anyway, between his twice a day potty runs through the obstacle course, there were…CAR RIDES! Long ones too, flitting here and there for way longer than my legs could take. Ooo cripes have I been into the tylenol this week. But a car ride is about all that gets him downstairs.
He’s developed a new phobia since dropping another 5 pounds–the stairs to our bedroom. Why, I have no clue. He’s run up and down them several times a day his entire life. But it takes considerable coaxing all of a sudden. Shivery whines and freezing up is what happens.
It doesn’t make sense, so I’m chalking it up to whatever is goin on with his health. These intractable fears appear for no reason, don’t respond to conditioning, then for some reason, just go away after a few weeks, or when he starts gaining weight again.
He once spent a month refusing to potty because there was noises outside. Then it stopped. It’s not a skittish reaction either, it’s plain old fear. Panicky, can’t think, fear. He seems to be stuck in a flight response he can’t stop. Sounds alot like my own anxiety issues when they crop up.
Think it’s time for a second tick disease “snap” tests–the ehrlichia might not have been succesfully treated with one course of antibiotics. I’ve been told that it can take more than once, and the disease can in fact cause the digestive problems he’s having as well as personality changes.
Brown’s also gotten himself a new clicker!! It’s an “I-Click” from Karen Pryor’s site and I really really like it. The sound is softer, the button can be pushed with finger, palm, or even a “bop” against it when it’s hanging around my neck. Much easier on the troublesome hands.
That means the boys have had daily practices. Why let a good clicker go to waste? As far as their occasional relaxed proximity exercises, I managed to get Kenai and BB both down 12″ from each other, face to face, and not have either one try to start a rumpus.
Kenai’s individual practice is in the morning, just us, and he sulks if I neglect it. We’re trying to get his rump in the right place, since he prefers to swing it out diagonally. That doesn’t work well for bracing. So it’s sits, downs, and come brace between me and an object for awhile.
I wonder if he’s got an association between the words and facing me for his treat? Leftovers from my “amateur night” days–he was foolishly taught his sits and downs facing me like a beginner’s obedience class does. Should’ve skipped that and gone straight to the heel and side sits etc.
I might try getting him to sit and such with a click/treat when he’s facing elsewhere just to see if that’s contributing to the big-butt-want-room syndrome he’s afflicted with! I know a certain amount of innate body sensitivity is involved, since he really doesn’t care much for tight spaces.
He’s extraordinary about not bumping things with that big ol’ rump, even backing up blind. I can get him to back through a narrow door at an angle and not touch a thing on the flimsiest of shelves. Merchants should be glad of that–a Dane can more than empty a shelf, they can tip over the whole aisle!
The boys are ever so joyful having their kennel back. They played themselves silly the first time I turned them out for a romp after it was all cut down! Kenai got so carried away with squishing his jolly ball that he poked a tooth through it and got it stuck.
Unlike BB, though, Kenai can get his dental parts back without assistance. He turns his front paw and pushes on it just so. BB scampers around looking for help.
I can’t neglect talking about our Saturday trip to the puppy store! We went because there was a Boxer and Giant Schnauzer rescue org adoption day. I wanted to see how bigfoot would behave.
He was expectedly excitable, but boy was I proud of him. Yeah, there was way too much tight leash going on, and pardon my french “horny teenager” stuff a couple times. But he was without his gentle leader, and controllable. Even calm, hanging out next to me while watching the happenings.
The kids would go by, one girl even liked running her hand down his back, and sneak under his neck and the man wasn’t bothered a bit by it. Smaller puppies he did play bows with, and nose nuzzled. The only thing that made him skittish was a schnauzer who didn’t want dogs next to his crate.
The dog was fine outside his crate, but barked like he meant it when crated, just like BB. Kenai did so well, considering how bonkers he used to go wanting to play. The owner invited him to come next Friday to be in a TV commercial. My little internet celebrity is going local!
Hence this week I need to practice carrying stuff around on my shoulders to mimic the cameras. That seems to make him skittish, so I’ll be doing over the head and shoulders all week with his clicker and treats. It’ll be no big deal by next Friday, with luck.
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on July 27, 2009
Grab a tiger by the tail! Kenai, 19 mo
We had a fun early morning Saturday, Kenai and I. He was too sleepy to bother coming downstairs to mix up his food, so I put the gate back up and did the duty. But…Mr seperation anxiety stood at the top of the stairs peeking over the baby gate and softly whining.
When he does that, I talk to him from the kitchen, tell him what I’m doing when I make noise etc. I don’t mind leaving him upstairs while I get his breakfast mixed. It has to sit for 30 min with the enzymes anyway, so they don’t burn his mouth.
Stairs are hard on Dane joints. So a down the stairs, up the stairs, down again to eat, up the stairs again, then down to wake up Mom…let him hang out until his food’s ready and spare him some wear and tear. He’ll thank me when he’s a grumpy old fart.
He waited, and a pass by the stairwell on the way to shut Mom’s bedroom door revealed the saddest, wrinkledy, gentle miss-you face ever seen by human eyes. Awww. So…when I came back up, I came with treats and a clicker!
Lamb crunchies are first in the puppy priorities, so we did “on the bed”, “off”, “on the couch”, “off” and other running-is-okay commands. I interspersed a bracing practice for sitting and getting up between the targeting couch and stuff.
Heavens but he loves that clicker! Silly boy tried to click it himself–I was sitting on the bed next to him and he kept nose poking at the clicker hanging around my neck. “More treats!” We worked on sitting in the heel, then following when I took a step forward. We even practiced a wait/name/come heel a couple times.
Then it was chow time, kibble that is. Down we went for his breakfast and potty run, and he actually did his business in relatively little time. He heard something in the yet uncut grass, and revved right up. “No” was all it took, and he walked on with me, though he kept an eye on that patch.
He was so happy-ed up from our practice still, he ran right into the living room and got (stole) his brother’s new tiger baby. Can I pretend that’s fetching? Zoom, right up the stairs with it! Tuggie time ensued, and boy was he feeling vigorous!
He’d turn and try to use his body to keep it away or pull it out of my hand. He tried with the sasquatch paws to push my arm away. He leaped around when he won, and played the watch-her-hand when I won. Since I was sitting down, our tug games were fairly long!
Then it happened…tiger baby got its tail pulled off. The pic at the top of the post was Kenai wondering what happened. He surveyed the damage a moment then started to walk away.
But his boy heart didn’t want to give up such a good playing baby, and he turned back for another look at the forlorn carcass.
Oh well, parts is parts, right? He can play with parts!!
So we played tug with the tail, I’d steal the body, he’d steal it back.
Parts is parts.
Then it was wake up grammy time, which is his favorite part of the morning routine. I go in first, to get her up and off the bed–Kenai pounces. He smashes people’s heads into the pillow with his bear paws if they’re laying down, flops on top of them, and that’s not good if you have to pee.
He doesn’t do it to me, but he will Mom. So he waits until she’s up for the door to open. I’m trying various ways of getting BB to chill out when I come to wake Mom up. He’s just totally bonkers with anxiety, even trying to nip at me. He loses it when someone comes near Mom when she’s asleep.
But, Beebs is in his expen, so when Mom’s up, Kenai’s allowed to come barreling up on the bed and over it, into the bathroom for “find her”. It’s like a controlled zoomie, a hunt Mom down for your morning smooches and backtalking.
After that it was upstairs for quiet time while little bro got his breakfast, potty run, and Mom gets her medicine down (in peace). With my cousin’s sons coming again to finish up the weed-eating for us, I was hoping the fun morning would make him less excitable than the first day they came.
I behaved badly that first day. I was tired, hurting, had two boobies that acted like 130 pound 8 week old labs that wouldn’t leave my cousin alone…I reached a point after a few hours where I simply couldn’t ram down my irritation and calm myself anymore. So I went to bed for a nap.
Normally I’m able to stay calm, correcting the nose in your face, and insisting on a down stay after the greeting. Guess it’s just the stress of late, but I was ready to either scream, cry, or hit something after the twenty-thousandth time Kenai completely ignored me and tried to crawl under the table to go bugger with his brother.
I went to bed for a nap, as previously mentioned, and Kenai was going with me, want to or not. I know, 90% of the boobie stuff was me. Danes are notoriously sensitive to people’s emotions, and I was uncharacteristically irritable. My cousin Sheryl is very very too interesting, too, with all the doggie smells on her.
A nap was a better idea, even if I missed lunch and woke up with a queasy stomach. So Sunday I had a better plan and better attitude. I tell ya, these two pups would have a nervous breakdown if we moved to the city! That or just get over the noise and people-me-go-silly nonsense.
I have a sound sensitization CD that I could start using. That’s a good place to start, if I actually start and stay with it. There is also a book and CD called “Through a Dog’s Ear” designed to calm reactive dogs using music. http://www.patriciamcconnell.com/product/through-a-dog-s-ear-using-sound-to-improve-health-and-behavior-of-your-dog
I love music, and have used my own human relaxation tapes on Kenai. He’s always with me, so when I use them, he kinda has to! I have one to stimulate theta brain waves, which reduces pain sensation and increases creativity. I use that alot in place of pain meds.
I also have a couple CD’s for sleep, luring the brain into the frequencies of normal sleep, and one called “Deep learning” that is supposed to improve memory and comprehension. I know music has a strong effect on me, and it does affect Kenai.
Training notes: I don’t do much with heel sits, or sits in general except as a warm up. If you need a dog for balance, you don’t really want them to sit because it shifts their weight backwards, and can pull you off balance unintentionally.
An SD for balance I think needs to be up on their feet when you are, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Ultimately, hopefully, I’d like Kenai to be able to sense which way I’m falling and position himself where I need him to stop the fall. That’s a ways off for us yet, but it’s the goal.
I don’t know how others train their bracing for sitting down etc, but I want Kenai right in front of me. I will have a hand on the top of his shoulders for weight bearing on my really bad weak days. But mostly I prefer to have my arm over his shoulders, the hand on his outside shoulder blade.
That way what he does is more balancing me while I go down than holding weight. But he has this bad habit still of swinging his butt out on a diagonal. He does that with sit and down, and come heel, too. I have to figure out how to get his entire body in position, not just his front.
Uh-oh…that means “shaping” is ahead for me. I need to go looking and reading about shaping for body position. Wish I’d known how when he was a tiny tot! I also think I need to start reading up on how to train for sound alerts.
My hearing loss, if it progresses, will be fairly gradual, so we’ll learn it gradually too. I may be one of those with Meneire’s syndrome that doesn’t really lose all sound, but then again, I might not. It’s good to be prepared.
That’s probably a long enough post, don’t ya think? I thunk so when I went back to proofread and edit! I must have some Irish in me, hiding out in the geneology. Well, that’s the blow by blow of the Brother’s Grin’s weekend. Hope yours was a good one!
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on July 20, 2009
Such anticipation…Kenai 18 mo
Whew, it’s been quite a week already, and it’s only half over. My brother is lingering, now 14 days off life support. His vitals are dropping and his extremities are cyanotic, so the end really has to be near. He just keeps on truckin’ for some reason, poor guy.
Tuesday was really rough for the boys, crated almost 8 hours. They’ve never had that happen before, and I felt so bad for them. But our dearest friend called early in the morning to tell us her son had died. So up to Melba’s we went, and spent most of the morning there before going to the hospital.
I made the mistake of taking the boys outside to play as soon as I got home. I was hoping it’d undo some of the strain of being crated. Kenai threw up yellow foamy bile halfway through the intended outside time. Losing a bit of weight as well.
He’d had too many “too’s”: too hungry, too stressed, and too hot. So we babied his tum, feeding small amounts through the evening, and Wednesday we return to 3 meals a day. I’ve slightly increased his kibble amount from 2 cups at a meal to 2 1/2, taking him to 7 1/2 cups a day.
Wednesday morning, everyone was up before dawn, so we decided to have some fun. The routine was messed up anyway; they might as well have a reason to enjoy it. The boys have new toys, compliments of a very dear friend.
Kenai picked out the “flimsy fox”, and BB wanted the “skinny skunk” for his own. They love these stuffingless toys, since there’s enough for two big mouths to grab and have a good game of tug. BB’s being a butt, stealing every baby he can, and Kenai just lets him. But sometimes he refuses to let go!
They had some rumpus time, and when the sun started coming up, I fed my boy his breakfast. To get at least some ”normal” we went upstairs after his meal and hit the beds. They’ve been such good boys through all this. Not getting their exercise, little attention or play time.
What play time they get is in the form of unusual toys, like an empty 2 liter bottle or an empty rice jar to roll around. Different toys are mentally exciting to them, making up for the boredom a bit. Anything interesting so I can sit down while they play will do!
Today’s plan is go to the cafe for breakfast and gas up the car, then a quickie run to the vet for a weight. Then I want Mom to drop me off at home; I’ll stay home with the boys, so they can be out and have a bit of play. They won’t be alone that way, something closer to normal.
Once she gets the rest of the errands done and gets home, it’s “bedtime for bonzo”, and I’ll race ya; last one under the sheets is a rotten egg. Oddly, Kenai still cannot stand to be covered up. Neither of the boys will tolerate it. They grab the blanket and wrestle it off.
Home’s my plan and I’m stickin to it! Can’t take much more of the running about all day–already got laid down by a left side migraine Monday, for the first time in over a year. Normally my migraines will hit on the right side, or crown of the head, but those left ones…
Left siders are monsters, and can blow up fast as a gale, putting me down quick as 15 minutes. I go nearly blind from the auras, lose coordination, slur my speech, vomit uncontrollably, and actually cry. I’ve walked on broken bones before, but the lefties make me cry they hurt so bad.
On a better note, the rain here has cooled things off somewhat, so perhaps the boys will get a nice long romp outside. They are enjoying their new box of bones, demolishing the evidence. And a trip to the puppy store for food is in their near future. Maybe that will give them some happy, huh?
I get as much fun watching them be happy as they do being happy. Hard not to, sweet boys.
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on June 24, 2009
Looking for his bro, Kenai 17 mo
The Boys are ever so glad to be home and able to run and play again. Like the slobber sling on Kenai’s back? That must mean summer’s almost here…that and not being able to keep up with the weeds! They had a tiring week, the Brother’s Grin.
With the long trip to the University, the pool guys coming and going, my brother and neice turning up, we are wore out by the excitement. And ha, ha, I managed to get the field cut before the rain started again. Of course it was more like brushhogging, and took 3 days, but I got er done!
Sadly, BB was really reactive again with my neice. He wound up being put in the pen because he was unpredictable. One moment he would let her pet him, then if she walked over to Mom, he would bark and scare her. Then he would let her pet him. He needs to return to the “kiddie practices” of olden (youngin) days to chill out.
The other sadly was Kenai driving me bonkers about the pool guys for an hour and a half. They had to drain and clean the pool etc, so they were back and forth from pool to van with lots of noisy equipment. The whole time, Kenai was a blunderbutt, back and forth from window to door.
I tried the name games to no avail, I tried an obedience practice, I even tried his gentle leader. At 8 pm, I am too exhausted for all that silliness. He went in his crate. The crazy pacing and barking when he saw them was just too much to take right before bed.
With our sadly’s out of the way, we’ve had some doggie good times. Kenai got to make a pest of himself with my neice. A gentle pest, a quiet big shadow, but a pest. The little people fascinate him, and he has decided it is his job to keep them company.
He hasn’t fully gotten into his head that they aren’t just some kind of upright puppy, since he wants to run and smush with really excited kids. “Yeesh, ma, they play with balls and stuff too…”
But the little people are very interesting critters. He smells all their smells, and gives them the head-turning boy wrinkles at their funny noises. He practically grins back when the tickly whiskers make them laugh. Yep. Kids are interesting critters.
And then BB got to have his so sad melt down when Mom put the dirty toys in the washer. He complains and makes pitiful noises, between tushie rubs and poochie smoochies. It’s our little ritual, and when they come out of the dryer, he has a happy melt down figuring out which ones to play with first!
They also each got to have a soda pop bottle to play with. It’s much more fun off-carpet, spinning the bottle and watching them try to pin it down. Every time the foot hits it, the bottle goes careening off into the distance! They have to get it just right, and when they do it’s the best trophy this side of a super bowl ring.
Once they get that bottle, it’s prance and dance and butt bump so you can’t steal it. Big dog, small dog, they all play the same, don’t they? Great Danes just do it on a grander scale, since they happen to have grander sized rumps.
And speaking of grand size rumps, the search for a BB crate has intensified. He’s scraping his back, even hunkered down getting in and out of his crate. Problem is, it is mysteriously hard to find a crate sized in between the one he has and the monstrosity that holds his don’t-fence-me-in brother.
For some reason, I’ve only found one, count ‘em, one crate between the 48″l x 33″h and the 54″l x 46″h crates. We’re supposed go from waist high to eye high with nothing in between? After some determined searching, and searching, and searching…
Looks like this crate’s the one, at a just right 36″ high. It’s pricier than I had wanted, but really not bad at all, considering how eye popping expensive doggie stuff can get. And I can use paypal so it doesn’t go on a credit card. Bought and paid for, not just bought and making payments. That’s nice. http://www.mightypets.com/product.asp?3=1812
And if I can see my way clear of unexpected expenses next month, the boys will once again have their glorious box of bones, you know, the one they would do anything to get you to open. http://www.dog.com/item/beefeaters-white-rawhide-bones-bulk-box/ Of course the 9″-ers only have 17 in the box, but it’s better than the box of scrap ends they have now!
Kenai’s giving me the sorry saga about the state of his bone box, and has been since March. He sticks his nose in, roots around, picks up his head, lets out a thoroughly dissatisfied sigh, looks right at me, then walks away.
I tried taking up the half-chewed bones, and reserving them for “special” times. He’ll sniff each of them, take one, and snottily drop it over yonder to be ignored. Reminds me of kid half way through summer break from school. Bored. Nothing to play with. Snooty stinker.
Oh, and we had another victory for me: the other morning we went outside and I didn’t see the deer in the high grass. He started off, but the gentle leader kicked in, and he didn’t keep wildly yanking the leash as they ran off. He was whining, foot shifting, and trembling, but the repeated “no” was enough.
The real victory part is that after they were gone I got him settled down enough to go out in that field to relieve himself. He was hyper alert, but controllable and actually did his business. I know better than to think that’s the start of a trend, but I’m grateful for the win all the same.
I’m thinking about pulling out my walmart fall apart grill, if the charcoal stayed dry over the winter. It’s memorial day weekend, for any non-American’s reading. Memorial day is to honor those who died in military service, as well as living military folks.
My late father was a retired Colonel, 2 wars on his chest, and Mom left the service after Vietnam, in 1969. She teases her kids that she really just went from one war zone to another…’tis true, we were not easy chillin’s to raise. She probably deserves a purple heart or something.
Memorial day is also the kick off to summer, with cook outs (food on the barbie for all you Aussies!), pool or lake fun, and all the trappings of summertime. Naturally it’s raining until Thursday, but maybe I could grill in the big garage. I’ve had the steaks marinating overnight (I buy cheap meat).
I can swim in the rain. It’s not like I won’t already be wet. But the pool has to be warm or forget it. Drop me in cold water and it’s not pretty: the muscles and joints freeze right up. I quit going to the Y for that reason. Their hot tub isn’t worth $200 a year, not when I can soak in a scalding bubble bath.
Last night during their play time, Mom did the mostest awfulest thing a grammy can do to a boy: a noseberry. Raspberries always get a rise out of Kenai, but there’s an order-o-horror. General raspberries are most anywhere you can reach save for the ones below, and encite funny wiggles with mild backtalking.
Now buttberries cause a swing around, paw slapping play bow with backtalk, usually followed by a leap onto Mom’s bed for blankie monster games. For some reason they are associated with play in his mind. Buttberries get him riled up for rumpus.
Bellyberries happen when he’s rolled over on his back, and his mouthy noise has much more indignation. Those are not nice nasties grammy, since he’s usually all peaceful and relaxed. Disturbing his majestic repose deserves at least some indignation you see.
But noseberries are the worst. He really let’s it rip when Mom gives him a noseberry: he tells her off, gives her icky ears and pickle lips, and refuses to play anymore. That’s when the real teasing starts, because the more you try to get him to play while he pouts the funnier the sour puss faces he gives you. Ever hear a big dog let out one of those groaning sighs?
Last night’s noseberry was notable in that after much sneezing, he leaped onto the couch, crawled behind me on the recliner end, and peeked around the other side of me to bitch her out. “My mommy get you for that!!”
Oh the howling we did, Mom and I. He was entirely bent out of shape about the whole thing, and did not see the humor in it! We gave him a box to shred, did some chase-me-chase-yous, then he and grammy made up. He’d let her smooch his face, but the nose was off-limits. What a boy…
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on May 25, 2009
Kenai’s funny “moose face”, saying “I don’t wanna come down”, 16 mo old
Kenai has always been a fellow who knows what he wants. Or doesn’t want. Changing his mind is akin to playing hopscotch: hop the wrong way, and it’s game over. Stinker. The past couple weeks he’s decided he’s not a “morning person”, trying to lie in after I’ve gone downstairs to whip up his breakfast.
Well, hopscotch boy will actually get off his couch upstairs when the kibble hits the bowl. Then the luring begins. Sometimes it works. Sometimes a bone tempts him to wobble his sleepy bones down for a chew. Sometimes I get to watch part of the Glen Beck show that taped overnight by myself.
He wakes up the rest of the way when we get outside for the after-meal deposit. His lazy lout game isn’t as pronounced when the afternoon nap comes to an end, thankfully. Then he wants to play. I just want something cold to drink. (BTW naps don’t “refresh” me, they just put off the inevitable until 9 pm).
I know he’s been housebound, whining at the sliding door where all the fresh air and outdoor smells come in. I swear that dog would prefer to be outside all day, barring rain of course. The weather’s been good and warm, spring is sprung, and his boy bottoms wants to be out in it.
My doc appt provided a clue what’s been wrong with me lately: the chronic Lyme disease took advantage of immune suppression from all the stress of last year. That’s why I haven’t rebounded, despite the ol’ college try. I’ll be on antibiotics until October.
One of my other docs doesn’t believe I have chronic lyme, but I got news for him. Just three days into the antibiotics, and cripes-a-crud do I have a die off reaction! Oh wow is it bad. Kenai’s whining for extra outside time goes unsatisfied, needless to say. Poor guy. I can’t even get comfortable enough to sleep at night, drugs be danged.
Still, he’s acting very dissatisfied, especially at night. He has this chenille teddy bear that once upon a time was mine. He loves this bear. He’ll take its nose in his mouth, wrap his feet around it, and go to sleep half-suckling it. I should call it his “momma bear”, the silly wumps. Sleepy time as never given up his mouthing habit, on my fingers or on his bear.
BB is not allowed to have this bear. They swap toys like they swap slobber, the Brother’s Grin. But not this bear. A fight will break out if little bro gets his paws on it. I probably shouldn’t allow that, but it’s the only thing Kenai refuses to share. I can give him one thing. No fuss if I take it–then it’s play with me Mom. But not Beebers.
BB happily shares toys if he gets to play too. He’s very good about that. The “thing” he’s possessive of is Mom. That’s really not good. That he doesn’t get away with. He goes so far as to nip in his terrible anxiety, and gets in serious trouble for it.
Not that he’s mean or aggressive, he just gets so upset when I wake up Mom in the morning while he’s in the expen, or when me and Brown come down in the afternoon, that he forgets himself. I scold when I feel the mouth, and ‘finger bite’ if teeth touch skin. You bite me, I bite you, little boy. He always backs off, remembering how he’s supposed to behave.
Poor guy got bent sideways Friday with Mom not feeling good (summer cold), and Kenai absolutlely nailed him for a nip that was too hard. All Kenai did was come up to greet Mom since we’d been upstairs napping for a couple hours, and whammo, Beebs bit. Big bro was seriously ticked off.
Sometimes I think being seperated, especially from Mom in the AM makes him more anxious. But we still need it: there would’ve been a bent-butt kickin without it yesterday for the unwarranted nip. Beebs got Kenai’s lip, and made it bleed, so yeah, BB’s butt would have been kicked clean out the top of his head if growling big bro could have gotten to him.
Then they turn around and take care of each other or have a good play time together. Something was off with Beebs last night, and Kenai was plain distressed by it. BB’d been lethargic, his gimpy leg hurting with a big storm coming in. Didn’t even want to play.
So Kenai paced, whined, tried to reach over the top of the crate to sniff… He was driving us nuts, offering toys and wanting to squeeze his way around that end of the couch. He tried coming up behind the couch: no BB hanging his head over it to say hi. Whine. Whine and run over to nudge my hand, “what’s wrong, momma?”
He tried moving the crate until his nose could touch little bro: BB moved away. Cry and trot around to the front of the couch. He tried lifting the expen from the bottom: BB went to the crate, “leave me alone”. Cry and pace, cry and pace. Not even a good scolding settled him down.
I went up to little bro for an exam, finally. Belly was soft, gums were normal, nose was cool and wet. He just hurt, like me. Since he doesn’t lay still for rub-ems or snug-ems, rolling over and using his thoroughbred-long front legs to keep you at a distance, BB got a foot massage.
I’d massage awhile, then stick one hand over for Kenai to sniff. “Little brother’s okay”. Eventually, BB decided it felt good, and dozed while I massaged up to his shoulders. He doesn’t like his back or hind legs messed with, working on that, but since he didn’t feel good, I just stuck with what he liked.
So they are no doubt, brothers. Love hard, fight hard, play hard.
I am continually amazed at the control our Danes have over their mouths. Probably all dogs do, but the contrast of such tremendous strength used so gently is something to behold. They have big lips, Great Danes. Pendulous, be-whiskered, floppy lips.
When they rub you with those lips, usually just smelling you, it feels like I’d imagine a walrus rub would feel–those tickly whiskers always make babies giggle. Delightful to watch a Dane and a baby. Such monumental gentleness.
Kenai’s mouth is ever so careful. He can take a treat from your hand without touching you, or he can wiggle a treat loose in your fist with nearly all your hand hidden under those lips and you’ll never feel teeth. It’s incredible. Fastest tounge in the west, too.
The late Riptide of my childhood days would retrieve our balloons without breaking them. Brazos could carry a package of meat from one place to the next without breaking the shrink wrap. Trained dogs can pick up a paper reciept off the floor.
And just when you forget that Great Danes were once used to hunt and guard, Brazos also killed an attacking dog at the vet with one bite–crushed it’s skull, the canine teeth peircing clean into the brain tissue. I never saw the dog coming, trying to maneuver a 3 foot long body through a tight entryway.
Note: Brazos was never once aggressive. This dog just got it’s stitches out from it’s last fight, and the vet was reporting it as a vicious dog needing to be put down. It ripped itself free from its owners, and came straight at us, the moment it saw Brazos.
The killing was over before I knew what was happening. He wouldn’t let go until the dog quit moving, either. Then when the dog was dead, he walked over to his “spot” and laid down like it didn’t happen. Really scary, seeing the terrible strength they have, and almost never use.
Kenai has a “new” baby he is madly in love with. Once again, it used to be mine. Instead of stuffing, his new reindeer baby has those noisy beans inside. It’s small, his preferred size for tossing and pouncing. If this keeps up, I won’t have any toys of my own…
But he loves it so. One day he was just gazing away at it, so I took it off my dresser and let him have it. Ode to joy, the leaping and dancing it caused! Guess it’s the noise of the beans rubbing together, but he just has a marvelous time with it, carrying it around from place to place. I’ve even started using it as a “reward” during mini-practices between meals.
And one of his tennis balls is a muddy mucky mess, having been taken outside for playtime. I don’t really bounce it, since I don’t want him jumping, but he can chase it, lose it, find it and all that other fun boy stuff.
I’m hoping soon to have the stamina to re-start a second outside playtime for him, since he’s so housebound after the winter. He’s craving sunshine and warm breezes. It’s that time of year.
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on April 5, 2009
I promised you a post entitled “My Boyfriend’s Back” the day I could take Kenai into a restaurant and have a no-problem down stay. We aren’t there yet, but today we made a big advance in that direction! Today was the first day in a long time that he got suited up in his vest and went inside a place with me.
We had to pick up some paperwork from Walgreens, and since that seemed a good, quick in and out, on went his SDit vest and gentle leader. He went right through the doors, no hesitation. He went right and left, no mistakes. He handled it without any major Scooby manuevers!
He’s not back to himself entirely: the air tubes for the drive thru behind the counter made him a little nervous and he wanted to back away. But I asked him to come forward, and he did. He came to stand between me and the counter how he’s supposed to. He also wanted to see people, so there was a bit of pulling on the gentle leader. He’s rusty is all.
Just to be sure it wasn’t a fluke, I pulled in at the puppy store. It once was his favorite place, but last month he was just scared there too. Not today. He played, he picked out a new grunting toy, and had a good time. It wasn’t the most carefree he’s ever been, not romping about like a puppy. But he didn’t get nervous or upset, and that’s a big deal!
I don’t know who crashed first, me or him, when we got home. We’d made 5 stops (3 he stayed in the car for), and was gone for 2 1/2 hours. We ate our lunch and petered out, and I mean gone with the wind. I woke up over 4 hours later. That’s why I’m still up writing this. Oops.
Can’t say I’m encouraged so much as simply enjoying the lingering happy from a good day. I won’t preditct that it’s all downhill from here. But it was unbelievably satisfying to see him out in public without his tail tucked and eyes wide. I was so happy for him.
Today seems to be fast becoming a stay at home day, since I need to get his food and vet reciepts together for the tax preparer. Service dog’s care is tax deductible, in case you didn’t know. That’s what I’m told anyway. I really have to do a better job staying organized. (Who doesn’t?)
That’s what’s what here, and I’m pleased to have plenty of good things to write about these days. The downs are down, but the ups are really sweet.
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on March 3, 2009
Kenai in the throes of his couch-ate-my-ball game, 46 wks old
Tuesday was a long day for K, starting with a store. Normally I wait until he’s had other stops to get in his working boy groove before I go into a store. But he did okay with the gentle leader. Then it was up to the clinic to wait for Mom’s PT to be over. Kenai doesn’t like to wait, the impatient teenager. He was whiney, able to see Mom but not go over and sit with her too.
He made some friends all the same. One doesn’t expect to find a Great Dane in a physical therapy clinic, so he did attract attention. Especially from a former Dane owner, who wore out her phone taking pictures! The stinker knows when his picture’s being taken because he’ll stand up straighter, sit prettier, and hold his head up all handsome like. He gets practice at home…
Speaking of pics, my streak of poor quality shots continues. I may be a camera hag but that doesn’t mean I’m good at it!
One thing I didn’t like about the clinic adventure was he refused the elevator there too. That meant I climbed stairs. I had him to hold onto, but I don’t want to climb stairs when there’s an elevator in the building. We may have to call the clicker training lady from awhile back to work on that. A shot of new person energy might be refreshing to us both, who knows.
While Sasquatch is in his fervent adolescent mode, we’ve gone into a training glide. Having been through other puppy stuff stages with him, I’ve gotten used to the reality of hurry ups and pauses. There are times when he and I zoom along, practicing, and improving daily.
There are also times when he seems to totally forget what he’s supposed to do and has done for months. So I’ve learned to glide, waiting out the phases and hiccups.
Sometimes ya just have to keep on keeping on, following the routine, doing your thing until the weird wears off. I know he’ll turn out just fine, and have had some encouraging glimpses of grown up Kenai.
Back at 9 months old, he was THE service dog in action: I could walk into a place and hardly pay any attention to him at all. Easy is coming I’m sure. He’s a good boy. He just has to grow up, and there’s no rushing that.
There are some camps of doggie training that object to the rigorousness of training assistance animals, competition dogs, drug dogs and the like. It’s believed that expecting the level of obedience required of them from an early age is somehow callous, that their puppyhood is denied them.
It’s true that many pups simply could not be contented with daily practice, daily exposure to new situations. They couldn’t make it through the training with their happiness intact. It’s stressful to be out and about for many dogs. For others, it’s fun and entertaining. Kenai certainly gets housebound!
That’s why there is so much emphasis placed on picking a pup with just the right temperament. There has to be an innate and abiding desire in a pup to be with their human anywhere and helping their human or the work is drudgery. Working dogs have drive. If they don’t have something to do, they get frustrated.
There have been times I questioned myself about Kenai, his independent streak showed itself to be wide and deep early on. He’s not the stereotypical working pup, not by any stretch. He has a mind of his own, with brains enough behind it to keep me on my toes.
Most of the time, 99% of the time, he’s quietly laying down or watching what’s happening around him like some lion king. It’s that 1% that surprises me! For instance, I have to lock the car doors when I leave him because he knows how to open the door and get out. He’s done it, scaring the fool out of me.
His problem solving skills are most often used for his own desires. Yet when he’s not in “practice time”, when it’s a real situation where I very much need him, he’s there. He’s absolutely THERE and on the job whole heartedly.
So with Kenai, I think he gets bored of doing the same thing without a reason. He won’t do the same trick over and over for long, no matter what kind of treats or toys you have. He’d certainly never put in the hours of repetition that a dog in obedience trials or agility does. He just wouldn’t do it. He wants variety, the spoiled brat!
I’ve seen the tendency, but wasn’t so consciously aware of it in my past Danes, that “yeah, already get that, what’s new?” I sometimes laugh about wishing for a dumb hound, or one too obsessive to get bored! Ah, but dumb isn’t any fun. A girl’s gotta have some fun, messing with a sasquatch…
Kenai has taken a big liking to the UK out back (unmovable kennel). He romps, he chases his squeaky bone, he goober runs and plays all out. I need balls. I need lots of balls, and big ones for outdoor time. He gets bored with his toys, so a big stash with big variety is the next penny-scraping endeavor.
I went to buy a basket ball or soccer ball the other day and nearly died at the price. It’s a ball for crying out loud, and it’ll have holes in it within 10 minutes! (Squished balls still play good, BTW). We went home without the basketball.
So the hunt is on for outdoor toys they can’t demolish. Jolly balls look interesting, and toys on a rope too. That’ll be tommorrow’s outing, hitting the puppy stores. Today is Thursday, so we’ll be staying close to home, checking in on little brother BB who has to stay in his expen while Mom’s gone.
Gotta keep the boy company some of the time so he doesn’t get too lonely. Big Bro and me will be having a romp in the UK for sure, and maybe a quickie outing since we didn’t do anything yesterday. Not much today, though. A tidy up upstairs would be a good idea, now that I actually looked at the mess…
Posted by greatdaneservicedog on November 20, 2008