Makin' Costly Mistakes

This is Quicko, a papered, purebred German Shepherd Dog, purchased by me from a kennel in Tennessee.    Quicko was absolutely gorgeous with deep, rich colorings, great confirmation and a loving spirit.     The only unfortunate part of me investing in  this dog was that I had researched and sought to purchase a Personal Protection dog.    Housebroken, obedience trained and  happy go lucky, Quicko was NO protection dog.

Having read all about Shepherds, and thinking I knew what I was getting into when purchasing one, I looked all over the net to find a kennel that specialized in training canines for security of one's home and self.   Months later and many phone calls to a kennel in Tennessee, I set out on my trip from Illinois to purchase and take home a dog.    (Mistake number one, allowing the kennel owner to pick a dog for me from the group he had available).    Made the costly trip down there and stayed at a motel for a night so I could visit the dog two or three times in his current home environment.   This man was not a breeder of dogs but a trainer.  

Although Quicko was friendly, very obedient to my commands, my friends, the trainer, and his partner,  in my eagerness, I saw what I wanted to see.   It was a beautiful facility.   Very nice, clean kennels with a fenced in area so large I could not see past the tree area to where the privacy fence ended.    The man had only six dogs and a total of ten kennel runs.   Very well protected from the weather, in door/ out door, concrete, and set under the natural shade of lovely trees.   The man spent a long time talking with me about this dog.    He explained that based upon what our phone conversations had been , this was the dog for me out of all the rest he had on the property.    I was allowed to visually see the other dogs in their runs but it was explained to me, all so very logical at the time, that each was trained to a different level of protection and it would not be good to allow them out to visit.    His explanation went to say that each dog was trained for a specific  job such as;  drug detection, search and rescue of lost people,  cadaver (deceased ) searches, and some for very high levels of apprehension of criminals.    The man himself had an impressive resume of certificates for training and placing each type of work dog, along with newspaper articles of the many searches he had participated in with law enforcement.   Again, on the surface, all seemed to be an excellent kennel with an owner who appeared to know what he was talking about.

Things are not always as they would appear.    As we signed the contract to change the dog ownership to me, he even offered a seven day guarantee on the health of the animal.   The pedigree was produced along with vet records to show that both parents had  x-rays for hips and elbow issues and found to have none (common problems in Shepherds that good breeders take extensive care to make sure the parents are free from these problems before breeding ).    Happy with Quicko, I thought, I loaded him in my car and for the long drive home he was the perfect companion.    The average person who was just looking for a great dog would have been content with this outcome.  However,  did I mention that the cost for this  "Personal and Home Protection"  dog was  $ 7,000 !!!!

A huge sum of cash to pay for what I thought I was getting, but not exorbitant for a truly well trained personal protection dog.     When I got home Quicko molded seamlessly into my band of dogs that already lived with me.    He was well socialized and appropriately submissive coming into a new house with an established pack.   Off leash and on leash this dog obeyed and I never worried about him wandering away when we walked in the 60 acres of woods I own or at the lake.    So where was the problem you ask ??    Simple, I had been sold a dog under false pretenses.    He would not protect, bark, alert, or do anything when a possible threat or stranger showed up at my home.   Quicko knew no strangers.   All were welcome into his new home.    This is not what I paid for.   Although he was vet checked and found to be in perfect health, x-rays were taken of hips and elbows and they too were perfect, I was not in the market to get a show dog for that amount of money.

After the seven days were up for the health guarantee, and I had called this man several times to explain the dog did not show any interest in protection.     Yes, while at the kennel , the man demonstrated that Quicko would bite a "sleeve"  ( a burlap and hard plastic sleeve placed on the arm of a trainer to show the dogs willingness and level of bite performance ) but I was totally undereducated about reading how the dog reacted when commanded to do this task.    If I had been more knowledgeable or had hired a person who I trusted to pick out a dog for me I would have never purchased Quicko.  

Subsequently,   I gave the dog a month to settle into the home and get to know me better.   More phone calls to this man and his kennel went to an answering machine and were never returned.   At that point I looked up the original advertisement on the web and found it was gone!  In fact everything about this man's kennel had vanished from the web.  (Big red flag there).   I do not have advice on how to avoid a mistake like this for the kennel appeared well established and the dog I purchased was in perfect health, he was simply sold to me as a trained protection dog, and he was not.

At that point I was unsure of what to do with Quicko and realizing I did not have that kind of money to spend on another dog, which would only add to my crew of five indoor dogs with yet another one, I turned to a man I had known for years who was a trainer and breeder of German Shepherd Dogs.
After a few phone calls I  made the trip to Pana, IL and brought Quicko with me for an evaluation of the dog's skills (first correct choice in all of my mistakes).    Why I didn't go to this man in the first place I don't know and regret.

Always helpful, vastly skilled in the reading and training of dogs for more than 20 years, and specializing in German Shepherd Dogs, his evaluation of  Quicko took about five minutes.  Ruefully, he shook his head and said the dog had absolutely no desire or inclination to protect anyone or anything let alone himself.    I asked if he was able to teach the dog these skills and he gently explained that some dogs are born and bred through a long line of genetics, each puppy carefully evaluated and picked for it's courage and balance of defensive and offensive skills, then raised to cultivate those traits.   He offered to show me a prize dog he had that he was considering placing named Brasso.

The dog was beyond brave , highly intelligent, and showed remarkable skills for personal protection.   He wanted to sell the animal because his concentration of training was into the sport of Schutzhund and this dog did not make that grade.   Being the fantastic person he is, and seeing how I had been dooped, hearing of the vast cost I had placed into Quicko, along with his wife telling him she was interested in showing him in confirmation as well as having a great house pet, he offered me a trade.     I was well aware that he could have charged probably more than $10,000, easily, for the amount of time, care, training, excellent genetics and everything he had placed into Brasso. 
  
Eagerly, I accepted the trade and signed the papers of Quicko and Brasso to exhange ownership.
This was an excellent home, with ample space for Quicko to play, four growing boys to wrestle with, along with daily mental exercise  and the opportunity to excel at what this dog was made for, confirmation shows and being a great pet.   Quicko went on to live a full life in a lap of luxury, being played with every day.

My lesson here was just because everything looks good on the surface, and even when digging deeper it appears that one is getting what they paid for, it behooves a purchaser to seek out a trusted source when spending large amounts of cash for a specific attribute in a dog.     Read all you can, study everything, learn about the breed and reason you want a specific type of dog,  then, find others who have a great deal of experience to help you make your choice.  


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Gone Swimmin' ....

Nothing better to do on a scorching hot summer day then to hit the local swimming hole, pool, or lake.    Dogs are no different than us, they love a cool dip as well and the exercise can not be beat.
In the above picture Jamoka is swimming and Echo is just getting into the local lake with him.   They all loved the trips to the water and although not all my dogs would swim, I would encourage them to at least wade in the cool wakes. 

Jamoka and Echo both believed that the ducks and geese that landed on the lake could be caught.   The dogs would swim as fast and sneaky as they could and, of course, just before they reached their feathered friends, the ducks or geese would fly off looking a tad bit annoyed.   Undeterred, they would head to the new spot to try again.   Jamoka and Dozer were such avid swimmers, like with human children, we often had to call them back in to rest.

Water sports are wonderful for re cooperation from injuries.   After a fellow Doberman named Izac, was hit by a car, he and his owner went for many rehab trips to the lake.   It took nearly a full year but he regained all his mobility.   If you have a pool at your home, it is a wise choice to teach your companion how to swim, where to enter and exit.    Fencing at home to keep the unmonitored dog out is needed as well.   I have seen some people who allow their dogs free access and never watch them, I feel these people are foolhardy and will regret that decision if they ever find their animal could not get out of the pool.    Not all dogs swim, some dogs are just not built for that and because of the body type they can doggie paddle for only a short time before they wear out and may drown.    Never is it a good idea to toss your unsuspecting four legged friend into the deep.   It only serves to frighten them.    Gently show them the waters edge, or get into it first and coax them in after you.  You can use flotation devices to help them get started and after supporting the belly and showing them not to be afraid, allow them to explore the ability to swim with you as an anchor.    Frightened dogs in the water nipping and scratching are no fun, so go very slow and be ready to pull them out of harms way.

Some dogs can swim and simply prefer not to.   Missy and Blake would rather have been hot, sitting on the shoreline and watching the fish swim then to ever get in more than belly high in the waves.   But for most of my other pets, the lake was a place to kick loose, run like the wind, and be a dog.    The lake we visited was in a huge fenced area and they were allowed off leash.   Be sure to check with your local park or recreation center, Department of Natural Resources , or your local sheriff /police to see where your pets are allowed to swim and be loose.   Always remember to clean up after your pet, no one wants to share your waste when they walk through the area.

I recall one of the many times that Echo had finished her romp in the water and set off to deer hunt.   No, she could not catch the deer, she only thought she could.   Most of the time Echo would trail, nose a few inches above the dirt, running as fast as her Doberman legs would carry her, following what she was sure was a new scent of some deer.    99 out of 100 times she would come back, tongue nearly dragging the ground, covered in dirt, and exhausted from chasing deer ghosts.  But there is always that one time......

  I waited and waited, the sun was near setting and the day was late in autumn.  I called to Echo many times and began to worry she had found her way out of the drive entrance to the park.   Walking quickly up the all dirt road I saw three adult deer break out of the woods and head over a fence into the bean field.   Hot in pursuit was Echo !   She, at last, had found real deer !    Having no reason to stop because she didn't realize she was even tired, and her quarry in her sights, she was running hard, leaped  over the fence and into the bean fields.    I stopped yelling as I saw the deer head out way ahead of her and vanish.   I just started walking, gathering the other dogs with me for what I was sure would be a long trek.   Grumbling to myself, I plodded through the field looking for the not lost Echo (at least she didn't think she was lost).   I got about three minutes of walking in when I saw the familiar, although not quite as bouncy, Echo, headed my way over the beans.    When she reached me, exhausted, she nearly fell on the ground.    I sent a friend of mine back for the car so we didn't all have to walk back.  After putting the dogs all into the air conditioned car and giving them fresh water from home, along with a rub down for Echo's tired muscles, we headed home for the always needed bath.

My best estimation is that Echo ran about two miles after the deer before turning back.   A good lesson to know when you think your dog can not ever be that far from you.    The next trip to the lake I made sure did not involve late evening trailing.

So live it up this summer, take your companion along, and participate in joint the sports of dock diving, water retrieval , boating, and swimming.  Always be safe and look out for the welfare of your pets.  Maybe you can enjoy your summer more and both get in some work out time without the high gym prices.



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The Magic of Echo

Meet Echo, or Whirlwind Spirit's Echo, which was her papered name.    This is one of the few companions that I sought out and  purchased.      I searched for months for her, knew I wanted a female, black and tan, and full of fire.   I saw many ads for puppies sold but nothing clicked.  Then one day there was an ad saying "One, ten week old , female, black and tan Doberman for sale."
I felt it was the right dog and called.    A young man had purchased her and was called to military service.   He had to live on base and the dog could not come along.   What impressed me about these people was the parents were willing to keep this dog if they did not find the exact right home.    I made several visits to the house and the first time I held this pup, she bit me on the tip of my nose.   I knew she was perfect.

I could not have been more correct.   She was not yet named and I took my time and got to know her.  My dear friend came up with the name which honored the memory of my last Doberman, Spirit.   My black and tan ball of fire was afraid of nothing, made friends with everyone and became a top quality Certified Therapy and Certified Service dog.    I took her to schools to teach the value of respecting animals and proper behavior around them.   I took her to endless nursing homes and gave obedience demonstrations and then would let her socialize with all the patients.   She went into hospitals to visit the sick as well as  Ronald McDonald Houses to seek out the children and parents of children who were so sad.  Echo never met an stranger.   She could sense sadness, anxiety, fear, stress, as well as happiness and joy.   To say she shared in all those emotions is an understatement.      Her stories of love could fill it's own book.   Gentle and patient, she would nuzzle people who were despondent or lay quietly at the feet of a stranger who was anxious.

As a puppy she went everywhere with me.   I lived near the Illinois State Fair grounds in Springfield, IL, and we delighted in going to all the horse, cow, pig, and sheep 4-H shows.   At one point I was teaching the  4-H classes at the fairgrounds, and she came along as a demonstration dog.  I  taught public obedience classes where she also was a teachers aide.     Her curiosity was great and I would hold her tiny puppy form up to the show horses in the barns at the fairgrounds.   They would sniff and whinny and nearly blow her away trying to inhale her scent.   One Belgium draft horse who stood 17 hands high and about 1,800 pounds loved dogs.   After asking permission I walked Echo, who was about five months old and a little over 50 pounds, right up to the horses nose.    Without the slightest bit of fear the two stood smelling each other.   I wish I had a picture of the small, bold Doberman staring up into those deep brown eyes of this huge animal.   I swear she cocked her head and said in dog language,
"My, you are the biggest Doberman I have ever seen !"
Nothing about this dog ever disappointed me.   I had her for ten years and the imprint she left on my heart will always be huge.   She touched many lives, and I hope her stories in future posts will make you smile and give you a chance to share in the magic of Echo.



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Service Dogs of all Kinds

A soldier and his military dog stand looking at the memorial for the fallen dog companions who were sent to serve our country.    Our dogs serve us in many capacities throughout the world.    The military dog protects and defends our soldiers from enemies, human and mechanical; customs dogs protect our harvests from foreign fruits that may carry diseases as well as drugs that cross our boarders.    There are the police dogs who help capture criminals ; search and rescue dogs which locate lost people in water, buildings, woods, or the well known 911 terrorist attack.   We also have canines who minister to our soldiers with P.T.S.D., seeing eye guides, hearing dogs for the deaf, seizure alert, diabetic alert dogs, and the list could go on forever. 

Our canines ask little from us and give us their entire devotion and lives.    The number of troops saved by a dog through out the wars is endless, and our home front would not be the same if they did not play a part in our lives.    Some of the services a dog does is very obvious by the person walking with the white stick, or the police officer with his dog in his car.   Others are not so recognizable, but are working just the same.  It is important to note that one should not reach out and pet any dog who is with their owner without permission, but especially these dogs.   Although the ones you may see at your local grocery store are friendly, they are busy watching out for subtle cues from their handler.
A seizure alert, or panic attack dog is using it's nose to read the handlers condition at all time.   Subtle changes in smell, stance, heart rate, is all information used to determine if the handler is in trouble.   They should be respected for the job they are doing and be aware how very hard it is to override natural scents and sounds as well as hands reaching out to distract them.

Service dogs are allowed in any area that their handlers are in.   You may see them in a court house, doctors office, hospital, nursing home, restaurant, library, or grocery store.    The dogs are not required to wear vests stating their position and the owner is not required to bring proof of the dogs service ability.    This is a federal law and it overrides all states laws.   Imagine if every time our police wanted to use a dog to search a car for drugs and the car owner demanded to see proof that the dog was certified!  Insane, you would say, and the same goes for the person walking along that appears to have no disability.    Far too many owners of places try to demand proof and this only makes it more difficult on the handler.    The person really would prefer to be just left to do their shopping or dining without being treated like a leaper because they chose to use a service dog.
So please, if you are an owner of an establishment, the law only allows you to ask
"Is that a service dog?"
Nothing more.  You can not ask what their disability is, or for papers.   A hefty fine will fall on you or the company you work for if you persist in harassing these people.  

When at the airport we give up all rights in order to board planes  by removing our shoes, going through body scanners, letting our luggage be searched, etc, and if we really want to board that plane, when the dog comes by to sniff us for contraband we won't demand proof that the dog has passed tests to obtain it's current position.    All dogs provide a service to us humans of some type if we allow them.   It may not be bomb detection or serving on the front lines, but we get unconditional love from our pets.   Next time you see or hear of a service dog story, smile to yourself knowing they don't take paid vacations, pilfer from the tills, or get overtime.   In fact they work for little more than dog food and love. 


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But I Have No Room !!

The number of times I have heard people say they must give up a pet because they have no room in their home, their life situation has changed, or the world has just become too complicated for a pet, leaves me speechless.    In this picture you see Blake, the dog,  Mr. Kitty, foreground grey tiger stripped cat, and Arbol, laying next to Blake, also grey tiger stripped cat.   When this was taken I was in the middle of a move and about to get married.  This was a one bed  (12' x 18') motel room.   To this place I brought Cinder (African Grey Parrot), Blake (35 pound mix dog), Dozer (85 pound Lab / Shepherd), Echo (85 pound Doberman), my fiance brought  Mr. Kitty, along with another full grown female cat named Chola, and Jamoka (80 pound Lab / Pit cross).   As if this was not enough to take up ever square inch of the room with us also living in there, while out on a walk he and I found Arbol, on a road in the middle of no where, and decided to adopt him to our family.
 
 All of these animals lived in this one tiny motel room with us for several months.    They had not grown up together and barely knew each other, but they all learned to get along.  Some days were more tense than others, a few times Jamoka and Dozer had indoor peeing contests to establish who was boss (which I had to thoroughly clean up with special chemicals), Cinder would become annoyed at the cats staring at him through the cage bars, and I had to take all the dogs outside maybe ten times a day for runs to let off excess energy.    But we made it work.

As you can see from the picture these animals, who were treated by us as family,  learned to accept one another as such.   When we finally moved into a new home with a large fenced in back yard they continued to sleep side by side and no one hurt another.

This was not the first time I had  been in a situation where I chose to keep my animals despite my living conditions.  There was a time I had moved out of a house and lived in my car with two dogs, each weighing over 80 pounds.   It was difficult, but I made it work.   If a person really loves the pets they have chosen, and is willing to put in a bit of effort, anything can be resolved.   I have little respect for the person who dumps their animal because they had a baby and didn't bother to get the animal acclimated during the nine long months before the infant was born.   Likewise, people who do not plan on emergency moves or disasters and leave pets to fend for themselves do not get my sympathy.   If you can move your human children you can find a way to work your pet into your life.    Each time a natural disaster occurs people flee and the pets are left behind, ravaged by hunger, thirst, and abandoned by the families they trusted.   

Our pets are very wise and they can overcome great odds to stay with their family if we just give them a chance.    In my case, my bird had never seen a cat, the cats loved to kill birds, the dogs all had to work out who was dominant in rank, but we never gave up.    We placed our hearts into our companions and did not allow lack of space, little bickers between species, or worries about how inconvenient it was for us to run the dogs outside all day long to get in the way of our love for them.   Bottom line, we were dedicated, and we made it work.   If you take an animal, of any species into your life, be sure you are willing to sacrifice.  They did not ask you to take them and they are worthy of receiving the best life has to offer. 



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Abandoned to the streets, molded to perfection....

Meet Missy, part Beagle and part Cocker Spaniel.    When Missy picked me to be her mother I was filling up my car with gasoline at a Caseys in a nearby town.    I already had Blake and Echo with me and we had just finished a run at the park with their estranged "brother"  Jamoka.    After filling the tank I turned around to see this sweet little dog sitting right next to me.   I never saw her arrive, like a shadow she sat there.    Being right by a busy road, I picked up the pup, not wanting her to run into traffic and get hit.   Carrying her into the Caseys to pay, I asked the employees if anyone had lost her or knew where she lived.   I was  told  they had been feeding her daily for many months and she would appear at the store and then vanish.  

Living in a town 30 minutes away, I didn't want the owners to never find her.   I left my name and phone number and placed her in my front seat for the drive home.   Of course I ran adds in all the papers, posted found pictures and called every vet I knew.   No one called about her.  Then,  a week or two after I took Missy home, I got a phone call from the area where she was found.   A woman pleaded with me to keep her and give her a good home.  The caller said the original owner had been a woman who's relationship with her husband had soured.   When the owner left her husband, the dog stayed behind and was  kicked to the streets.   Not wishing to return this kind soul to that life, I decided there would have to be a very special person to come along in order for me to adopt  her out.   But no one ever did, so I knew I had been chosen by this special spirit to enhance my life and teach me about giving.

That first drive home was a wild one as my two four legged  kids in the back were going crazy wanting to meet her but Missy was interested in the drive.    She got the nickname "Prairie Beagle"  when I glanced over to see her balancing on her hind quarters, peering out the windshield while I was driving.    It reminded me of the prairie dogs out in the wild.    To say this dog fit into my life perfectly would be an understatement.   Housebroken, obedient, and gentle I wondered what terrible wrong Missy had committed to have been tossed away.    I took her to my vet and had her heart worm checked, given shots, then home to bathe, flea treat and worm.    If anyone tells you picking up a stray is cheap, they are lying or not doing the basics for the dog.    I was going to spay her but she already was fixed.

Totally blind in one eye and having a broken veterbrae at the base of her tail, as well as a broken ankle, both of which were healing, nothing intimidated Missy.   It was always my belief that she had been hit by a car in the hind quarters thus causing her to fear being touched on the tail and rear end.   Missy was full of courage and nothing slowed her down.  A few weeks to get used to my "crew" and she was an integral part of the family.   She placed herself at the head of the waterbed, sleeping on the pillows and loving to be covered up by the blankets.   She never complained, got along with all dogs, cats and people.    With a lot of work I was able to assuage her fear of being touched on her hind end.     Missy possessed a unique understanding of people.   She was highly sensitive to emotions and would race to my side when i was feeling sad.   I saw her potential as a service dog / therapy dog and we worked towards that goal.

Soon I was taking Missy to WalMart, appointments, schools, nursing homes, and hospitals.   Her happy go lucky personality made her a winner with everyone.    Her last hurtle was to go to church with me.   I knew many children would be reaching out and touching her without thinking she would object.   Again this dog exceeded my expectations.   No person was a stranger and I can recall tiny hands reaching under the pew during church to pet her soft fur.  Her tail softly wagged on the carpet and some times she would belly crawl to the next pew to cuddle with a child who was having a bad day.    So many times she would be laying with a two, three, or four year old who was cranky and quickly the two would drift off to sleep , the child's arm around Missy.   

Missy taught me about courage, how to face life with disabilities, how to never hold back from loving others.     Missy became not only a certified Therapy Dog but also a Certified Service Dog.   Her life was long and full, I can't be sure but the vet said at her time of death she was near 18 years old.   A tumor developed in one of her legs and she became filled with pain.    It devastated me to let Missy go, but I knew it was unfair to keep her around for me.   Missy will always be missed and so fondly remembered for her gentleness, kindness, willingness to forgive, and unbridled spirit.  Thank you for choosing me to be your mom.


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