November 16, 2023

A German Shepherd Gal without a trusty GSD

Our first German Shepherd Dog, Max came into our lives as a puppy almost 20 years ago. Technically, he was our second German Shepherd Dog. He came at five months old and had some "training on him", part of the puppy package from the breeder/trainers at Assertive K-9 Training. He could do a fabulous long down. (30 minutes - which was easy, because, he'd fall asleep 10 minutes into the down and he'd stay.) "Who's a good boy?"
Max. Max was a good boy. The long story is that we'd had a stray Shep, Ruby for about a week. A friend of a friend has purchased her from a homeless man who had her out all night in the cold with him and this friend of a friend was focused on a better life for doggies. (My kinda gal.) She took Ruby home to live with her and her kiddos. Ruby slept on her daughter's bed. So, when she came to us, she was accustomed to people being like dogs, bad choice. She was on the bed and nipped my daughter in puppy play, but Sarah is a human and at the time, she was a tender and loud human child who was scared to pieces by a big old German Shepherd snout biting her. But she also already LOVED Ruby (the child is part dog). Then, the nip happened a second time in the car, after which a friend of ours, said something like,  "My best friend's mom is a German Shepherd trainer and breeder and she says a Shepherd NEVER belongs on the bed as a puppy because they assume it gives them status as a human." We were intrigued by the psychology and drove the miles out to the German Shepherd training grounds and met with Diana Foster - a highly regarded trainer/breeder. We shared our story and she talked about the Shepherd's intelligence and willingness to challenge for position. We learned about the fabulous long-down where you put the dog on a down-stay and keep them there by returning them to set position every time they get up until you release them. She talked about her approach and the dogs she had available at that time. We were in love quickly with the idea of a well-trained German Shepherd Dog. Her litters sold out quickly and about a year after our initial meeting with her, she called to say she had a few pups available,  two of whom were German imports from a Schutzenhund line. Trained to do what Shutzenhunds do -- Shutzen training. The significance is that dogs with this temperment are bright and quite maleable. So a big dog, scary looking to some people, when well-trained, will do what you ask of them. We were excited and hopped in the car to go meet these doggies. We were introduced to a pack of furballs (from an unavailable litter) and Max and Carla, a brother and sister from Germany - Schutznehund types. I fell in love with short haired Carla and everyone else loved long-haired Max. He sensed my internal struggle and immediately wrapped himself around my feet and stared at me promising undying affection and fun. I was sunk. Both kids, my husband and this adorable pup were on the side I needed to move to. And I did, quickly.

After a couple of weeks of extended training, we brought Max home and he was exactly what we dreamed of, a gorgeous caramel Shepherd with a deep black saddle.
His "coated" status made him very pretty and many people wanted to tell us he wasn't a GSD, but some other breed because of the coat. We laughed to ourselves because, we held the paper on the guy. And those German's don't mess around when it comes to Bloodlines and their Hunds. 

Max was a perfect dog. He practiced his downs, loved to go for walks and healed like it was proof of his excellent breeding. He acted as if staying at my left knee were a badge of honor. It made walks and socializing a treat. He was into it. Max belonged to everyone in the house. It was clear I was his mama, but he was pretty equal in sharing his love. Both kiddos knew the ropes of walks and downs and he gave them his full attention. He also loved going to their school to be "shown off" on sharing days. We never gave a second thought to him being with other kids. He was trained. He was easy.

Max made sure he always knew where everyone was. If I went to the neighbors he watched me leave and then waited by the window for my return. He often slept with me on the bed for a nap or when I went to bed earlier than everyone else - keeping me company as I fell asleep. He was a great pal. As he aged he became more protective of the house and let the mail people know we didn't need whatever they were offering. My husband loves to tell the story of the Fed Ex guy who jumped several feet backward OFF the porch when he answered the door with Max at his side. He was a protector for sure.

Max started slowing down at about about 10 and at that point our youngest had seen a litter of darling terrier mix puppies and fell in love. She talked up the fact that her pal Seth's dogs had three puppies and were looking for good homes for them. I let her know we'd could go look but we weren't getting a puppy. (Who did I think I was convincing?) We went to her friend Seth's house and met Jack and Jessie and their three puppies, two black pups with white markings and Lucy a white pup full of sweetness and a lot of sass. We fell completely in love. Lucy was the girl for us. After convincing my husband that his little girl could handle care for a puppy, we brought Lucy home. In a box. We let Maxy open the box in the backyard and from the first minute he became the mentor she needed. He loved her, and she him.  She slept her first night tucked into the circle of his belly. I don't think either of them move that night. She was so happy to have her new family - and a grandpa dog to boot! She started the next day teasing him and playing puppy games with him. - and he rose to the occasion. In the yard, she'd walk up hehind him and grab his plume of a tail, pull and run. He'd "fake" chase her and toss a bark in her direction. They snarled and played and nipped and rolled. They were a perfect pair. She got a playmate and he got a very happy year of play and mentorship.  One day, Lucy decided to go after the mailman, at the front window the same way Max did. He wasn't allowing this in her and stepped on her head to let her know she had to stop. She stopped. His whole life with us, he had his crate which went from a safe place for us to place him when we had to go out, to becoming his safe place. He retired to the crate when the house was too congested or noisy and he wanted some quiet space. On occasion, Lucy would join him. And, he welcomed her.  

We lost Max to an unfortunate tumor which made him anemic and also a bad candidate for surgery. It was a very sad day for everyone in our home. We all wandered through the house feeling the hole he left. Shortly after declaring we "wouldn't get another dog for a long time," three weeks to be exact, my husband walked into the living room on a cold Saturday morning, ready to go and saying, "come on! there's a gorgeous male Shepherd at Westside German Shepherd Rescue and we're going to go look!" We did and we met a gorgeous boy named Ace. He was strong and joyous - A little bit more dog than I was expecting. We had a lot of discussions about how we'd bring him home and decided to take him to Diana and her team for some training (boarding) before bringing him home to live with us. And that we did. Ace did really well with the training and he and I continued to drive out to Corona on Saturday mornings for group work which he loved. The people at Assertive saw the bond he and I forged and commented when he became the fastest dog to "find" his person during "hide and seek" using dog-blinds. When I put him in the back of my SUV he jumped in, turned around and kissed my face like it had been slathered by a T-Bone. I was convinced he was thanking me for going through the extra training with him. He loved it. I loved it. And, I loved him. As much as I adore Max, Ace became my best pal. Once, early on after he joined us, and would come and go through the back door on leash (as he learned the ins-and-outs of living with us) he "got away" from my husband when he saw me lying on the couch. He made a headlong dive onto me and stayed there until he was returned to his crate. It was an unexpected communication that he'd found his person. And I was that for 10 good years with him. I couldn't leave the house without hearing how tragic my departure was. And I couldn't return without a full GSD reunion party. Around 4 years old, Ace had his first epileptic seizure which is something you don't really want to ever have to see. We worked with our vet, consulted with neurologists and the best vet in Los Angeles and for 6 years, didn't ever really get much more than a month stretch between seizures. Last January he had a seizure that forever changed our situation. We lost him. It was awful and the hole in our home this time is twice as big. (The hole in my spirit is huge without him.) We miss him, but we have a wedding coming up and it isn't time for a new puppy. It will be soon enough. Just not yet. And, in the meantime, our darling Lucy had TPLO surgery for a ruptured CCL (doggy ACL) and a torn meniscus. She's in the long quiet recovery. Definitely the wrong time for a new dog. Healing requires rest and puppies don't rest for long. We're taking good care of Lucy who thinks she's a GSD. (But looks more like a Jack Russell with Greyhound legs.) There's a GSD out there waiting for me. I can feel it. I just hope he's willing to wait as long as we need to. In some ways, I feel like I'm walking around with a part of me missing. I don't know when that part of me became a dog, but it seems that happened. And it may have happened years ago when my dad brought home a Skye Terrier puppy eight weeks after I was born. We were best friends and I was his charge. Fully protected at all times. Kinda like life with Ace. It's a good feeling to share life with a great dog and I've had the opportunity more than a couple of times. Dad used to say "You seem to get one truly great dog in your lifetime." Dad agreed I exceeded my quota. I'm more than happy for this and will tempt the trope with the next great dog I have the pleasure of adding to our family. In the meantime, I remain a GSD kinda gal without her trusty GSD.

June 19, 2023

Tending. A different way.

This little grouping came after some needed pruning and clipping this morning. Pajama gardening is my favorite.  

I've been tending the spaces almost each day since spring. There was a small interruption with a mama dove and her eggs and then babies in a gathering basket right on top of my potting bench at the back door.
Other than necessary ins and outs, we've tried to keep traffic to a minimum so not to bother our sweet guest. They flew the nest this morning so I did a quick bit of catching up and welcomed this lovely batch of dahlias inside.

I've enjoyed playing in the garden since we moved into this house years ago. The sellers had filled the patch between the patio and the lawn with petunias. That's it. (They took the paint and petunias idiom literally.) It took no time for me to put a few roses in the ground. Over time we added strawberries, some sweet potatoes, cukes, pumpkins, Icelandic poppies - a long list of trials and errors. I read, I attempted, I learned. I did it when I had little, little kiddos, a husband, a job, family and friendships. The garden took a back seat (the way back, third row to be honest) and got the love it deserved when I had the breathing space.

Then, my landscaping pal Gary and I took a real look at the space we have and made a hardscape plan. Jennifer, a beautiful landscape designer gave me a completely new recommendation for plantings based on my zone and where the sunlight fell. Brilliant! I had Hebes and Lavender "Otto Quast," an Iceberg Rose tree with a burgundy iceberg graft, Penstemon, more White Iceberg bushes, Cecile Bruner Rose, Verbascum, Veronica, lots of beauty.

Charlie McCormick's Dahlias. I swoon.
Over the years things came out and things went in. Every year, Sweet Peas are planted the day after Thanksgiving. I love this way of bringing them in. But this year my crop was so small. We mostly enjoyed them as they trailed up the fence. I'm wild about Delphinium and my friends Lori and Carlos had a gorgeous garden with Larkspur planted right along. We made the whole garden a Potager Garden (not quite like this one) for a couple of years, but my heart came back to flowers and during the pandemic I found some mail order joy from Annies Annuals, Eden Bros., David Austin Roses and Heirloom Roses.  The garden, complete with a beautiful Forest Pansy tree is burgeoning this year. 

I learned two things. 

Water helps- we had lots of rain this winter. It made the tree and all the flowers so very happy. We live in a drought area so I'm filling barrels with any water too cold for hands or showers. Also, daily snips and cleanup make a big difference. Last summer, I planted about fifteen Dahlia plants inspired by Charlie McCormick's gorgeous dahlia gardens. As they grew in, they struggled, they didn't have enough space at the base to breathe. I learned. Only about ten made it over the cold winter we had. No frost, but cold enough. My grandmother of English heritage, and midwestern experience, always took her tubers up. But, California is not Chicago. I may have learned to rest them. Maybe.

A gardener I know, a real gardener, told me, "gardening is a series of killing things." I can do that. One year I didn't water anything over winter - except that which was hit by the sprinkler system. Lesson learned. 

So, the garden. Daily visits. Daily joy. Daily tending. 



June 13, 2023

New Tricks.

 

If you ever found yourself scrolling my photos, phone or laptop you'd run into thousands of dog pictures. Yup over 1000 times, I, one of my kids or husband or mom has snapped a doggie and it's ended up in my photos. 

Dogs. I love them. 

You don't have to go through the whole history lesson with me, but it does start with my first dog, Piper, being born the day before me. (I remember the odd piece of information, I admit it.) My enjoyment and attachment is long-standing. So it shouldn't surprise anyone that I notice changes in behavior. The little one here, is Lucy. She was a pup in this picture. Sweet, sleepy, puppy. Now she's eight and still sweet but now with clearly defined likes and dislikes:
  • No loud noises
  • No dogs on our lawn
  • No cats
  • No car rides, especially to the vet
  • No home fire alarm "battery is running low" chirping
  • No sneaker squeaking because it sounds like the above
  • No picking her up
  • Breakfast is before 7am, followed by 2 treats
  • Walks are at 5:45 - the list goes on.
She's not wild about extra people in the house so, this weekend when our eldest brought his fiancĂ©e to celebrate with a backyard garden party, I was shocked to find Lucy in the middle of it all. She was out on the sofas, the rugs strewn across the lawn, greeting, sharing, sneaking pizza crust pieces, enjoying the day and the night. In fact, the morning after, when I let her out in the early hours, she simply didn't come in. She'd found a chair and seemed to have declared herself an outdoor party dog. 

All of this sums to a couple of things - old dogs/new tricks is not so true when a dog sees things in a new way. Also, how sweet is it to watch a pup celebrating favorite family members in their joy?

Dogs. I'll say it again. I love them. More to come.

May 03, 2023

Breathing in Spring


My morning routine includes a peek outside from my front door.

I was thrilled at the color and sunlight emanating from this patch of lavender, alstroemeria and more lavender. At some angles, it looks like the sun is hugging the tops of the lavender. The neighbor's splash of pink blooms escalates the scene as do the remaining blossoms on the redbud trees.

Aren't the blooms of spring and their colors spectacular this season?

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