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Written by Melody Jones
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Wednesday, 22 September 2010 12:26 |
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Every year, my small Colorado town holds a super fun dog event called Barker Days at the local pool and ball field. This is a clever take-off of the town’s signature people event called Parker Days. Yes, because the town is called Parker.
But I digress.
The first year we attended, we had only one dog – Hunter, the Chocolate Labrador Observer. He lives by a firm policy of never retrieving anything. He’s considering breaking from the old ways and starting a new Labrador group called Club Observers.
When we escorted Hunter to Barker Days that first year, he took one look at the pool and ran pell mell, flinging himself into the deep end, which, for the record, is only five feet deep.
Immediately, he sank down. Barely emerging for breath and with eyes as wide as Frisbees, he sank again. We had to rescue him. We reminded him that he was bred to brave ice-cold deeper-than-5-feet ocean waters to help fisherman in Labrador. He was unimpressed.
He did recover enough from his near-drowning to run around the perimeter of the pool and pee on various bushes and chaise lounge chairs.
Soon he discovered the ball field next door. He spent much of his time there running amuck, racing through a big silver tube several times, visiting dog vendor booths, and in true Labrador Observer fashion, barely noticing the 132 Frisbees and tennis balls available for his amusement. Rule #1 at Club Observers: never pay attention to objects humans will expect you to chase and retrieve.
A year later we had acquired a second dog, Lacey the Beagle, and she accompanied Hunter to Barker Days. Hunter remembered his scary pool experience and gave it a wide berth, instead running around the perimeter and peeing on various bushes and chaise lounge chairs.
Eventually, his doggy daddy was able to coax him into the kiddie pool that was 6 inches deep and he learn ed water could be his friend, at least in small amounts.
Meanwhile back at the Beagle ranch, Lacey proved to be completely uninterested in the pools and very interested in the flora, fauna, and food, glorious food. Food? Um, yes. Any dropped and hidden morsel left by some swimmer child, no matter how long ago, is fair game in the Beagle nose world.
Lacey’s nose works much like a metal detector. She can find anything even the slightest bit edible anywhere anytime. I’m pretty sure she is no danger of starving should she find herself in any wilderness situation including urban, suburban, rural, mountain, or desert.
This year’s Barker Days had more dog-related vendors than ever before. Both dogs began the event on the pool side, but Hunter quickly made his way to the ball field side full of non-retrievable objects, and vendors, glorious vendors.
Every vendor has treats available to seduce dogs and, by association, owners to visit so they can peddle their fine doggy wares. Hunter doesn’t care about fine doggy wares. He cares about dog treats. He became known as the mooch. Whenever we couldn’t find Hunter, we simply took a turn through the vendor area, and there he was. Mooching.
But not retrieving.
Lacey also discovered the numerous treats available from the vendors, but if she couldn’t finagle a treat directly, she simply employed her Beagle nose detector and found stuff to eat anyway.
Finally, her doggy daddy picked her up and carried her to the kiddie pool to show her the wonders of water. She seemed to like it fine, even wagging at him, but then she carefully stepped her way out of the water and sniffed her way back to the vendors, first thoroughly exploring the flora and fauna for aged food bits.
Ah, Barker Days.
We’ll be back.
More fun dog tales in my world....I call them musings.
But I'm not a dog person....
Do what your dog does and you'll feel better
If the doorbell rings and nobody's home to hear it, do the dogs still bark uncontrollably?
Copyright 2010 Melody Jones - for more information or for permission to use copyrighted material, please see footer
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Written by Melody Jones
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Sunday, 20 June 2010 10:38 |
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My husband and I share our household with two cute barky energetic dogs, Hunter the Chocolate Labrador Observer, and Lacey the Beagle (also known as the walking nose).
 I've learned some things from our dogs. If I do what my dogs do, I feel better.
* Stretch.
My dogs stretch every single time they get up. They go into a play bow stance and stretch. They stretch each back leg one at a time. Lacey arches her back like a cat, getting a really good stretch complete with popping joints, and then she wags. Wagging is the doggy form of exercising your glutes.
* Sleep.
Dogs sleep 75% of every day. I’m just guessing at that statistic based on my jealous observations.
We in the human world cannot indulge in numerous daily naps, but we can take a cue from canine nappers: lots of sleep makes you feel good. Then you’re ready at a moment's notice to go for a walk, eat, drink, rip up toys, dig holes, roll around, and sniff stuff.
* Exercise.
My husband valiantly takes our dogs for a walk 5 out of 7 days a week, before work and in every season. Bless him for doing that.
The other two days consist of trips to the dog park for lots of running and some unfortunate humping (Hunter – sometimes we call him Humper) as well as summertime sojourns to the farmer’s market and wintertime trips to Lowes.
Did you know both Lowes and Home Depot allow dogs in their stores? These are perfect dog outings during cold, blustery days. Sometimes treats are available. Be warned that not every shopper enjoys a lab snout assertively interested in sensitive parts.
Another form of exercise is to run as fast as you can throughout the house, ears flapping and tail curled, bouncing off the back of the couch and tipping it, then burning out around corners on the slick kitchen floor. Works for Lacey.
* Play.
Dogs believe in play time. Ours recommend the following activities: prance around the house; chase stuffed animals; tear up stuffed animals; knock over your toy box and then pick it up and shake it; play hide and seek; eat long strands of grass; dig in the dirt; and roll in smelly stuff.
* Lay in the sun.
Sun is good for you. Lay in it whenever you can and when you get hot, find some shade. Or dig a hole in the dirt and plop down. Once the dirt really starts clinging, make sure to run into the house and lay on something clean.
* Show gratitude.
Dogs get very excited at the next step of their day, whatever it may be. Breakfast? Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! Trip to Lowes? Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! Going out to the yard to help pull weeds? Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!
* Live in the now.
Forget yesterday. Your dog has. Yesterday matters no more and worrying about it gets you nowhere.
Tomorrow is a vague concept and of no concern. NOW is the perfect time for stretching, sleeping, exercising, playing, sunning, and showing gratitude.
Do what your dog does, and you’ll feel better.
Play with abandon and you too can have a floor that looks like this. (Photo Melody Jones)
I have more thoughts. I call them musings. Scary, isn't it.
But I'm not a dog person...
If the doorbell rings and nobody's home to hear it, do the dogs still bark uncontrollably?
What makes you happy?
Copyright 2010 Melody Jones - see footer for more information if you would like to use this or any copyrighted material on www.melodyjonesonline.com. |
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Last Updated on Sunday, 03 October 2010 16:12 |
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Written by Melody Jones
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Tuesday, 13 April 2010 12:22 |
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I love my little beagle Lacey. She is the cutest thing on the planet, if I say so myself. She is lovable and loyal and lively and probably some other L words. She is fun and fantastic, sometimes frantic and some other, uh…..F words.
But I am not a dog person.
Lacey on a pillow, a favorite location.
She doesn’t seem to realize this and carries on in great dog fashion with lots of sniffing and panting and shedding. And eating and pooping and some very unladylike farting (aha, there’s that other F word). She follows me around, and helps with the laundry, and lies next to me even now as I’m typing. She appears to be attached to me.
She doesn’t realize I am a cat person. Cats are lower maintenance than dogs. That old joke that dogs come when called, but cats take a message and get back to you later holds true. She doesn’t realize that cats come see you for a minute, get some lovin’, and then go away. I like that in a cat.
Lacey my beloved beagle is firmly convinced that her mommy was, is, and will always be a die-hard dog lover. She is so convinced that she routinely feels entirely comfortable crawling under the covers on my side of the bed bringing with her any amount of dirt, sand, and mud. She is so sure mommy is a dog lover that she races me every night to see who can get to the bed and under the covers faster. Mommy sometimes loses. Lacey thinks it’s the funniest thing. She proves this by suddenly becoming as limp as my hair on a humid day when I try to move her so I can actually lie where I’m supposed to.
 
Lacey lounging with mommy on the recliner, another favorite location.
Cats can be left alone for a weekend. While they may turn their back on you for a solid 24 hours when you return just to show you they can, it does make impromptu and promptu (promptu?) weekend trips much easier.
Dogs are under the firm belief that all trips in the car must include them and therefore, they are going on all weekend trips. Aren’t they?
My Lacey will not play with my husband unless I am present in the room. She will run all the way upstairs, stuffed animal gripped tightly in mouth, to get me and refuses to go back downstairs to play until I see fit to join her and my husband.
Cats don’t care where you are in the house unless a large and smelly can of tuna is involved. I like that about cats.
Lacey gets so excited at the prospect of dinner that she does what I call the Dorothy Maneuver – jumps up, twists her little sausage body to the side and clicks her back heels together repeatedly. I have to laugh every time which I’m sure just encourages her even more, my laughter inadvertently training her to do it at every meal.
Lacey loves me. I love Lacey. But wait...I’m not a dog person.
Mommy kissing Lacey...again.
Here she is now, nosing the side of my leg as I sit at the computer. Apparently, a treat is in order. Or a walk. Or a nap. Just NOT more computer time….please, mommy, please, mommy. Uh oh, she’s pulling out her best persuasive technique…laying her head on my knee and gazing up at me with her doleful brown eyes. Isn’t she sweet? I love my Lacey.
I’m not a dog person. Really.
Copyright 2010 Melody Jones - see footer for detailed information |
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Last Updated on Sunday, 03 October 2010 16:16 |
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Written by Melody Jones
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Sunday, 07 February 2010 16:24 |
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I have two dogs. I am not a dog person really. But I dearly love my two dogs. The entirely cute Beagle named Lacey loves her mama (me) and the huge Chocolate lab named Hunter knocks down his daddy (my husband) a lot and with great enthusiasm.
Here's the thing.
These two dogs of mine feel it is their sworn duty to bark raucously and with motivation at all movement created by living creatures outside the front of the house.
Bunnies beware. Squirrels be warned. Neighbors be on alert. Innocent dogs being walked by caring owners who dare to use the public sidewalk in front of my house: we're just sayin' hi - as loud and long as we can.
Would be burglars: run away. I don't need an alarm. I have a Beagle bred to unceasingly alert fox hunters miles away when prey is in sight.
We seem unable to train them out of this behavior. The Dog Whisperer would say it's our fault. I'm sure it is. I have learned to live with it, more or less.
On the "less" days, I have figured out a coping strategy. I just close all the blinds at the front of the house and problem solved. Until someone has the gall to ring the doorbell. Do they make signs that say "Ring doorbell at your own risk"?
Speaking of doorbells... My favorite is when the dogs are super calm, because we've spent considerable time burning down their energy, and my husband and I are comfortably watching Burn Notice only to have Fiona ring the doorbell at Michael's mother's house...spurring Hunter and Lacey into raucous barking action at our own front door. Woe to us if the Burn Notice scriptwriters require Fiona to ring the TV doorbell repeatedly.
But I dearly love my two dogs.
Hunter and Lacey, my own personal barkers and built-in alarm system...
Copyright 2010 Melody Jones - see footer for more information. |
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Last Updated on Sunday, 03 October 2010 16:40 |
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Let the dogs in. Let the dogs out. Repeat.
