My Favorite Dog Tails

Dogs Recognize Clues

In the famous experiment, Pavlov's dogs reacted to clues that they were soon to be fed by drooling without ever having seen food. The stimulus was either a ringing bell or seeing the experimenters white lab coats. The same phenomena holds true when you pick up a leash (oh goody a walk, a walk, a walk, we're going for a walk), open a can (they're going to feed me that yummy mushy food now, oh boy), or open the pantry cabinet that stores the dog food (yippee, it's supper time!).

My Barney, who I've longed claimed was one smart dog, recognized the good and bad meaning of suitcases. When suitcases appeared by the door, it meant one of two things.  1) Road Trip!!  or 2) Desertion. Sometimes he got to go with. Sometimes he got to stay home with a partial stranger who was nice enough but not the same as his human family.

He was also smart enough to try and tip the scales in his favor of the suitcases indicating meaning #1. He would try to get into the car along with the suitcases. If he made it into the car, it was a good sign. If we resisted him, you could detect his sadness as he realized we were off somewhere without him. If strategy failed, he resorted to whining and wimpering. Sadly, that still didn't get him a seat on a plane to a tropical vacation.

Fortunately, all was forgiven when we came home. Unlike my cat growing up who would punish us by ignoring us for hours after the return from a trip, Barney greeted us with glee. Jumping, licking, and doggy kisses.

Barney's Wake up Call

Mothers have long claimed they can hear the slightest stirring of their children. Apparently, this starts even when your "first child" is a dog. Barney preceded my oldest child, my daughter, by about five years.  And if he was my "first child", then he must have inspired my maternal instinct for light sleeping.

If he ever needed to go out during the night, he didn't bark. He didn't whine. He didn't nudge. He simply stood by the side of the bed and looked at me. Oh, he may have sighed a few times, but that was it. I could sense his canine stare, and I woke up.  It was quiet and efficient. And proved what mothers have claimed for years.

Understanding Dog Language with a New Baby

Dog experts offer many ideas for how to introduce your dog to your new baby, including let the dog sniff an item of the baby before you bring the child home and for "mom" to come in without and before baby as the dog will be excited to see her and may jump up in excitement.

But here's one word of advice that no one told me when I came home with my three children.

Bending down with your face to the stomach of a dog is viewed as very aggressive behavior in dog language.  When my daughter was a newborn, it was normal HUMAN reaction to lean down and put my face in her belly and make silly loving sounds. But Barney reacted in a flash like I was attacking her. He let me know in no uncertain terms - barking and snarling - that this was unacceptable. It wasn't until I learned that this action is seen as aggressive to dogs that I understood his reaction.  Picking baby up and blowing on her tummy, on the other hand, is not viewed the same way. At least by Barney.

By the time my third came along, either I was well trained by Barney or he thought we weren't going to hurt the miniature humans.  But remember this advice if you want to bend over to kiss a baby's belly in the company of a dog.

When Your Dog Loses His Hearing

Barney lost his hearing as he aged. Like most things, it probably started gradually until I think he lost nearly all of his ability to hear.  The first signal was that he didn't come when he was called.  But then Barney always showed hound stubbornness and didn't always come when you called him.  Over time, the signs became more obvious until you could walk right up to him, say his name, and he wouldn't react until you touched him. Then, he jumped as if someone had visited him on a deserted island: "Where the heck did you come from?" 

Everyone learned to adjust. It never seemed to bother Barney too much, but then with three growing children, including two rambunctious boys, he may have considered it a blessing!  We learned that if Barney was sleeping, you stomped on the floor before you touched him. He felt that and instantly awoke.  If we did touch him, we did it very gently.  He started not to go too far away or stay outside too long, so calling him no longer was a problem.

When he got sick, and then of course at the end, perhaps he couldn't hear our words of love, but I know he felt them in our touch, soft caresses, and gentle petting.

Barney, Lord of the Yard

Barney loved "his" big back yard.  At night, he would sit on the deck by the stairs down to the yard and survey his suburban kingdom.  Sometimes for hours. He would sit calmly, rarely barking. If some smell or sound, undetected by inferior human senses, piqued his interest, he would rush off to investigate. Sometimes barking,sometimes not, to avoid alerting his "prey".  But in good weather, you could let him out at dusk, and he would be content to watch over his grassy kingdom well past sundown. A silent, watchful sentinel.

Barney and the Cone

Barney had several surgeries in his long life. Neutering. A big cut that needed stitches. His ACL (or the doggy equivalent) repaired. And a cyst.  Each time, the vet said don't let him lick or bite it. And each time I said, we need the cone/collar.  Barney bit everything. Did he really think the dog would ignore thread sticking in and out of flesh?

So on went the cone.  The poor dog acted so humiliated and ashamed. Now, maybe it was because he simply couldn't lift his head up. But I think he  was truly embarrassed. A couple of times, I walked him with it on. His misery was acute. Later, I took pity because was he really going to stop and bite himself when there were so many smells to investigate?

And of course, when he got himself stuck on wall or in a corner or against some piece of furniture, I tried hard not to laugh. Really. I did.  Ok, I laughed, but I didn't let Barney see. Poor thing was embarrassed enough.

(And I think the technical term may be an Elizabethean Collar. Cone of Shame was more appropriate for Barney though.)

Barney's Love of the Holidays

It's nearly the middle of November, and the holidays are racing toward us.  Barney loved the holidays. He loved the smell of roasting turkey.  As the aroma increased throughout the morning before the big meal, Barney would almost reach a fever pitch of anticipation. He never tried to steal the bird (as in the movie A Christmas Story - that would be a Chief trick) but he would be persistent in letting you know he was there ready for HIS Thanksgiving meal. And yes, he got a bowl of turkey each year - he took a pass on the yams!

He also enjoyed Christmas. He had his own stocking and received a present at my parent's house. In fact, each year when we came to visit, and he saw the tree up, he knew. He would immediately go under the tree to sniff and find his gift.   Sweater, book, ahhhh .... rawhide - MINE! He generally waited before he absconded with it so he could "open" it with the rest of us - yes, it was wrapped.

The picture above is from Barney's last Christmas with us. As his smile attests, he loved the holidays!

Barney's Grandmother

I don't know if my mother will appreciate this post, but she truly was Barney's human grandmother. He stayed with my parents a couple times when my husband and I went on vacation.  And since Barney had separation anxiety, he could not sleep in a room alone, he whimpered, barked, and howled. So my mother slept in the guest room with him. Barney on one twin bed, my mother on the other.

Like a grandmother with cookies for the grandkids, she always had a milk bone for him. We'd come to visit, and he'd go straight to the cabinet where she kept them. (He never quite figured out when they remodeled their kitchen and moved the box though!) He got a Christmas present each year and immediately went to sniff under the tree to find it. He knew what that Christmas tree meant!

When each of my three children were born, my mother came to help out for the first week. Although the human babies got plenty of attention, Barney made sure she never forgot her "first" grandchild. She petted him. Gave him food and water and paid attention while we were absorbed with the baby.

He never forgot it. You could tell he always associated "grandma" with positive feelings and nurturing - just like any grandchild would!

Barney's Salad

Barney was still a pup when I invited my uncle to dinner. He had been working in the Chicagoland area for a long time, commuting 5 hours home every weekend.  I made a family favorite dish, and he and my husband had a nice conversation over a lingering meal. Because we talked for quite some time, we lost track of what our Barney was doing. Much like it is with kids when it gets too quiet, I thought trouble may be brewing. So I went in search of our silent and much too missing Barney. Alas, I found him on top of our bed. From the garbage can, he had taken the outer leaves from the head lettuce I used to make a salad, the carrot peelings (long before the days of baby carrots), and carefully trotted them upstairs to the middle of our bed. He was quite pleased with his creation. My uncle laughed out loud about the dog who made a "salad". To this day, I'm not sure what he enjoyed more:  the meal or the dog salad.

Barney, King of the Yard

Before we remodeled our home, we had a deck right off the family room that went directly out into the yard. The yard was Barney's domain. This was his bathroom, play room, and hunting ground combined. He caught many raccoons and possums in that yard. We were allowed to mow it and share it, but it was his.

At night, he would sit - even into the dark, for hours - at the top of deck stairs, surveying his grassy kingdom. He would just sit, watch, and guard. And wait to see if some creature came into view and offered chase.

Sometimes Chief will do the same - although he lacks the intensity and duration of Barney's vigils - and he'll remind me so much of Barney who looked like a lion king watching over his pride.