Through No Fault of Their Own, They Need a Home

A few points to keep in mind:
* It was a really slow day at the blood bank.
* Despite eating a large meal in preparation, I still feel woozy after giving blood and have to spend a long time lying there with my feet up before I can walk to the door.
* Never miss a chance to educate and talk about rescue.
    It’s difficult for me to comprehend how it could be possible for anyone to know so little (as in nothing) about rescues and what wonderful family members they can be. However, time and again, I meet intelligent well-meaning humans who simply haven’t had the opportunity to learn about rescue dogs. So I tell them, every chance I get.
    At a recent blood drive, the donation center was playing cowboy medleys that included El Paso and Ghost Riders in the Sky.  (I’m not sure songs about people dying in pools of blood after gun fights are really the best mood music for that particular venue.)
    I always get lightheaded after I give blood and have to hang around until I can walk across the room without feeling woozy. I dutifully sipped juice, ate snacks, and listened to the blood bank employees craft “driving in my pickup truck to visit my daddy in prison” lyrics. I told them about basenjis and rescue, as I can find a way to squeeze this favorite topic into nearly any conversation, whether it fits or not. Many rescues have had lives that would make tearful country songs, but most of them are ready to trust, love and take a chance on a new life with a new family. Their outlooks are often optimistic and hopeful, despite their sometimes difficult pasts.
    This was a slow day, so the blood bank employees decided to construct a cowboy song about rescues. I provided some lyric suggestions about basenjis, they mixed them together and threw in lots of yippee ki yooohs. The Sons of the Purple Sage would have needed medical attention if they heard the results:

Here’s to those rescue basenji dogs. 

They just need a second chance. Yippee Ki yoooooh
Through no fault of their own, they need a home,
and long for someone to love.
Someone to love them, someone to snuggle,
someone to greet at the door. Yippee Ki Yaaay
Someone who belongs to them, someone to give paw waves,

 someone to yodel fooor. 

Someone who cares for them, feeds and protects them,

 and gives them time to adjust. 

Someone who says “you’re home forever,” 

someone they know they can trust.
‘Cause through no fault of their own, they need a home, 

and long for someone to love. 

Yippeee ki Yay, Yippee eeey ooooh,  

 Yippee eeey aaay

The blood bank staff had fun and perhaps learned a few things about rescue dogs and what treasures they can be. Then at long last, I was able to mosey off into the sunset, on the lookout for the next educational opportunity.   

 

Our treasured rescue Basenji dogs

Can I Pet your Dog?

Recently, I was out walking with my two basenjis, when a kid ran up to us and asked if he could pet my dogs.  For us, that's not unusual, since my dogs are an "approachable" size that kids seem to find irresistible.  What was interesting about this instance, however, was the fact that the kid was only about two years old, and he showed that he knew the exact right way to approach a new dog -- by first putting a fist out low for the dog to sniff, and then opening the hand to gently pet the dog under the chin. 

While most kids in our neighborhood say they have a dog or they know about dogs, 99% of them don't know the right way to approach an unfamiliar dog -- and for that matter, most adults don't know, either.  Most people immediately go for the pat or scratch on the top of the head, or the stroke down the back, which can often seem threatening to a dog if they don't know the person.  This video explains why, and shows the correct way to approach an unfamiliar dog:

As we traverse the neighborhood and kids approach us to pet my dogs, for those kids who will listen, I gently coach them on how to approach a dog they don't know, and I let them pet the dogs.  Most of the kids know us by now (we walk a lot!), and they're getting pretty good at remembering what they're supposed to do even before I remind them.  However, for those kids who don't listen, I simply tell them that now's not a good time, or that the dogs are scared to be petted by people they don't know.  That's not always true, but it's certainly safer than making my dogs uncomfortable with an interaction.  I don't think they'd ever bite -- I've seen Biko growl a bit to let me know he was uncomfortable with an interaction, which was a good warning sign to me so that I could end the interaction before he felt like he had to resort to biting.  However, sometimes with kids you just never know, and I wouldn't want to take the chance that some kid would decide to poke my dog unexpectedly in the rear and the dog would feel the need to defend himself.  Better to be safe than sorry, and to try to promote a little bit of good canine education along the way :-)

A Cautionary Tale with a Tail-Wagging Ending

A few of my favorite things: Microchips, ID Tags, and Up To Date Contact Numbers.

A couple of weekends ago we were driving through the state park by the marina where we sail  when we saw a small white dog walking slowly down the road. Her tongue was hanging out.  We stopped and Eric pulled a tray out of the cooler. We poured water into it and I walked toward the dog who was now lying on the grass by the side of the road. The little girl was wearing a fuchsia collar that had turned the fur on her neck bright pink, and she seemed tired and hot. Meanwhile, a guy in a truck stopped to ask us about the dog and then went to get the ranger. The ranger and a helper brought a dog dish and more water. The ranger said all he could do was keep her at the campground during the day and if no one claimed her, call the pound. Hmm. I looked at Eric.

I got my sandwich out of the cooler, pulled out some turkey and tentatively held it out. The little white dog carefully ate it. She allowed the ranger to connect a leash to her collar and with turkey as an incentive, she decided she’d get into the ranger’s golf cart. We followed the golf cart into the campground, gave them our phone number, and agreed to be back around 5 to see if her owners had been found. She spent the day with the ranger and his wife who provided food, water, attention, and frequent rides in the golf cart.

When we returned after a day of sailing, the little girl was still there, unclaimed. We raced off to buy a leash, a towel, a small bed, and some more deli turkey and returned to the campground.  She was quite interested in the turkey and allowed me to clip on the new leash and walk around the grass with her. When I said potty, she quickly pooped, which prompted much praise and excitement on our part.

Small infusions of turkey helped her climb into the car without hesitation. I spread the towel on my lap, got her settled, and rewarded with another small bit of turkey. She was soon lying on my lap, dozing, occasionally looking for more turkey, but she was not pushy and did not attempt to climb over the seat in pursuit like our Two Small Dogs would have. That alone seemed reason enough for more nibbles of turkey. She was about 20 pounds, white with tan spots, or would have been with a bath and some grooming, and she was definitely a golden oldie. Very sweet and agreeable.  

Our plan was to take her to our wonderful 24-hour vet hospital and board her until we could get her into a no kill shelter. When we got to the vet hospital, we explained our dilemma: we have two elderly dogs with health problems and could not take her home with us. When we told them our names, they looked up our records and saw that we’re Ivan and Dasa’s parents. Ah yes, that explains a lot.

During all of this, the little white dog didn’t pull on her leash, and was quiet and sweet. I sat on the floor next to her. She rested beside me, occasionally wagging her tail when I talked to her. She soon rolled over to show me her tummy so I obliged with tummy rubs. 

 The little white dog, we’ll call her Rosie to protect her privacy, had a microchip which helped our vet hospital find her people. This was a happy ending. The folks at the no kill shelter we contacted while waiting to see if Rosie’s people could be reached said very often strays aren’t microchipped, or the contact info is not up to date, so they don’t even know where to start looking for the dog’s family. With a great sigh of relief I can happily report that Rosie is back at home with her humans.

The moral of our story: please make sure your dog is microchipped and the microchip company has your current contact information, and please have your dog wear ID tags. No going naked. A collar and tags are what the well-dressed dog is wearing.

 

Fortunately, Ivan and Dasa were safely at home with the baby-sitter during our adventure with Rosie.

Dog is My Co-pilot

One of the first things I learned about Basenjis is that the breed is very pack-oriented. Now for some people that means a pack of two, for others, a pack of ten. It's kind of a discretionary thing. For the past two years, I've been one-half of a well-bonded pack of two with my Clover Four Leaf. From the beginning it was clear to me that I have to include Clover in everything I do. She practically insists, refusing to allow me to even go to the mailbox unattended. Since I have always been a homebody, I worry that Clover will get bored with me. Yes, really - I worry! So, I take her everywhere, including running errands. I now know that regardless of how dull the ride seems to me, Clover totally owns her role of co-pilot! Getting out of the house, seeing things, especially moving things, is stimulating for her and provides precious opportunities to work on those social skills. 

Apart from the obvious places - outdoor markets, pet stores, the park, and the bank drive thru - I take Clover to a few off-the-wall places as well. If an establishment doesn't have a posted pet policy, I can often take Clover inside without any fuss. We've been inside a video store, a yarn shop, and too many antique emporiums to count. We're welcomed at a couple of restaurants that have outdoor seating; and at Home Depot no one even seems to notice that Clover is a dog. One time, I turned my back for just a moment, and the next thing I knew, a salesclerk was helping Clover load my buggy with Marrakesh window treatments!

Hands down the most difficult time Clover rode shotgun was her first car trip to Louisiana to visit my family. Like a trooper, though, she eventually got the idea that I could keep the car between the lines without her constant vigilance, and she settled down, only popping up when I said "gas" or "McDonald's". Subsequent road trips were even smoother and Clover is an official Road Warrior! Now, after a mere 20- or 30-minute errand, she looks at me as if to say, "That's it? We didn't cross any rivers or state lines!"

Our at-home time is still the mainstay. The daily routine is essential to Clover's sense of security. She is a homebody at heart, just like her mommy. I realize that Clover would have bonded with me even if I never owned a car. She just wants to be with me. But those errands and car trips have been important, because she feels included in everything I do. The pack is together! It's always fun, having her next to me in the passenger seat, knowing she's enjoying herself and her world.

Next stop, VEGAS!

Vacationing with Basenjis

Bill and I planned a last minute trip to Shawnee National Forest in Southern Illinois to enjoy one of the last weeks of my summer break from school.  Planning spur of the moment involved some difficulty in securing a pet friendly cottage however one was found and reserved at Bear Branch Horse Resort.  We are not horse people but figured horse people are as friendly as dog people, and I knew we’d find ourselves among kindred spirits.  We also did some arm twisting to get our sixteen year old grandsons to come with us for a few days of fun.  The boys had never been to far southern Illinois so had no idea the corn and bean fields which are so common in the Central part of our state are much less prevalent in the rocks and hills found near the Illinois-Kentucky state line.

Planning and packing involved making lists of food, supplies, and basenji creature-comforts we would need to keep the boys and the basenjis happy, well fed, and adequately entertained.  Yesterday evening as I sat typing the boys and Bill were watching public television on what appeared to be an antique TV with no remote.  I am sure our grandsons think this is "roughing it" although our cottage had queen-sized beds, a futon, and a fully equipped kitchen.  The ad for the resort listed “Free Wi-Fi” without mentioning one must sit in a lawn chair near the now closed restaurant in order to pick up a signal.  Also, being so far in the sticks even Smart phones are of little use until driving closer to civilization. The owner and others staying at the resort were very friendly and asked all the typical questions about our basenjis.  I enjoyed explaining that they are an ancient breed and the reason they are not barking is because they are barkless, not because they are as well trained as they might seem.

 

We auto-toured the central part of the forest from Harrisburg south to KY and hiked at Garden of the Gods accompanied by the basenjis. 

 

Before hiking I reminded everyone that there are three species of poisonous snakes in the region and the safety rules of hiking and rock climbing include watching where you step or reach.  I also instructed everyone to be watchful of the basenjis because if they alerted to something it could indicate danger.  Thankfully, we encountered no frightening wildlife but Blaze warned us when she found a big toad.   Katy thought the cement bear in the camp ground looked scary and made me laugh when after getting her Mohawk up and sniffing from a distance, she moved closer to smell its feet, then, ventured behind it to sniff its concrete butt!  Blaze, always more cautious, was reluctant to get too close.

 

The pet friendly cottage rules allowed us to leave the basenjis crated indoors in comfortable air conditioning while we enjoyed activities not meant for dogs.  We took the boys to a family amusement park on Kentucky Lake on Saturday and for their first ever horseback ride on Sunday.  Later, after a long walk the basenjis and the boys enjoyed a long afternoon nap.

 

Family vacations are an important part of life for us and I hope our grandsons have some good memories to share with their friends when school resumes in a couple of weeks.  Everyone, including the basenjis, seemed to enjoy the change of scenery.