Socks’ Adventures: Fun with Friends

You know what I ablosutely loved about the holidays? The whole pack was together. You see, there’s the family pack, they’re almost always here. I love them to bits, but they’re all of the big two legged dogs variety that gets upset when you want to sniff their butts. And there is also the framily pack. Mum calls them  that. Framily, not pack and says that’s the combination of friends and family. The framily pack consists of more of the twoleggers, but it also has some sensible people who walk on four legs. Well, mostly sensible.

The big fellow Loki can get a bit grumpy when I run too much. Actually, scratch that, he gets grumpy when I run. I really do love him, but I wished he’d relax a bit. The little one is Penny. She’s always up for a run. And for chewing my ears. Don’t know why, they seem to be tasty.

 

A small white dog and a somewhat bigger, but not big black and brown dog are playing.

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Dad always says he has to look away because we look and sound like we’re about to kill each other, but that’s the problem with two legged dogs: they have no sense on how to play. I love rough and tumble play, but I also love chilling together afterwards.

 

A small white dog and a somewhat larger black and brown dog are lying on the grass next to each other, their tongues hanging out

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Socks’ Adventures: Fly like a bird!

Did you know that birds can fly? Like really fly? I was always suspicious of them being able to pull some kind of trick, because at home, those evil bastards hop around on the forest path and when I get there, they’re suddenly somewhere higher up. At home there’s a lot of trees. And a lot of birds. In trees. What there is not is a lot of open space. At the North Sea, it’s different. They’re really lacking in the tree department. BTW, mum, that was a dirty trick, promising that on holiday, I’d get a treat at every tree when you knew that there were very few trees. Anyway, back to the birds. They’re mean, and they can fly. Long distances. Fast. Especially the swallows. I really, really wanted to play catch with them, but mum said no. That was not cool. The stupid swallows kept teasing me and I was still on the lead.

Then one day, when I was trying to get to the swallows really hard, I head mum say something like “Gods, he’s pulling so much, I’m going to secure him around my body”. I didn’t understand exactly what she meant, but I knew it was now or never. While she was fumbling with the snap link, I took my chance, gave a good pull and there I was, running free. Into the Wadden, chasing those swallows. Wel, lots of yelling and running later I did come back, but man, that was good.

A small dog sitting far off in the distance in the Wadden at low tide

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Did I run away even thogh I knew I shouldn’t? Yes!

Did I get dirty as fuck and need a shower? Also yes!

Did I get all that muck over mum as well? You bet!

Do I regret anything? Absolutely not!

A very dirty small black and brown dog sitting in the sun, looking very proud of himself

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Adopt, Don’t Shop! – and its Limitations

I’m a big fan of adopting rescues and very critical of most modern dog breeding.

The rescue part you might have already guessed from Socks being, well, a rescue dog. The goodest rescue dog.

front view of a tricolour small dog lying on the grass

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You might have also guessed that I’m not the biggest fan of most modern breeding, with varying degrees from hatred for puppy mill owners and people who breed dog breeds that are inherently unhealthy (German has the apt word “Qualzucht”, torture breeding) like Frenchies over people who breed dogs that are mostly not suitable as family dogs but being sold mostly to families (Border Collies and Aussies, anybody?) to being mildly critical to dog breeds that need more genetic diversity to counter (manageable) health issues but who aren’t getting any due to stupid breed standards.

I’m not going to call everybody who gets a puppy from a breeder names, just a lot of them, so let’s look at the arguments being made in favour of getting a purebred puppy and which ones hold up, but also at the arguments pro and against getting a rescue.

First of all some necessary information before we start talking past each other:

In Germany and other wealthier European countries there exist two parallel rescue systems. The first one is the local shelters, which are all no kill and will take in pets that are surrendered but also pets that are confiscated or abandoned. The second system is foreign adoption from Eastern and Southern European countries with low animal welfare and kill shelters. Both have their pros and cons and I’ll talk about those as well.

First argument: But I love breed X!

This is the one I can simultaneously understand the most but that also infuriates me the most. Dog breeds have been created over centuries for specific purposes with specific goals in mind, so members of a breed are very likely to not only share a look, but also certain character traits. I mean, who doesn’t love a Golden Retriever? There’s still reasons I don’t have one. So there are people who either want a dog for a specific purpose (i. e. hunting) and get a specific working breed, or there are people who are really looking into which breed fits their lives and get those and I can understand that.

Unfortunately, most people don’t look at all aspects of a breed, they look at the optics or the image. They get a breed that has been popularized by media or celebrities. Border Collies are one of those breeds, as are Dalamtians and most tragically, French Bulldogs. Fuck Lady Gaga, The Rock and the rest of them who popularized Frenchies. In Germany there’s a huge problem with breeds like the Belgian Malinois or Kangals: Both dogs that require experienced owners, lots of attention and real good training, not to mention the right living conditions. But people will watch three videos on the internet and go “awwwww” and now German shelters are full with them, as well as the assorted bully breeds. This is a huge problem and ties in with argument #2.

Second argument: They wouldn’t let me have a rescue dog!

Congrats, so you went to a backyeard breeder, because if you didn’t get a rescue, then no responsible breeder would sell you a puppy. Now, I know that some local shelters can be a bit over the top, but most are not, if you’re being reasonable as to which dog you want. And often there will be no dog available that fits you, because see #1. When we looked for a doggo, we also looked at the local shelters. They had German Shepherds, Malinois, Bullies, their mixes and a very sick pug. These dogs need knowledgeable people and nobody should have given me any of them, should I have applied. Which I didn’t. I went to a (reputable) rescue organisation and yeah, me, a first time dog owner full time working person got a dog. But one that fit our lives.

Third argument: I don’t want a traumatised dog /surprise box that is a rescue

Another argument that holds a bit of truth, but not much. Just like those dogs from the local shelters who are often already demanding breeds now with added issues from bad keeping, a lot of foreign rescue dogs come with trauma and trust issues. Those dogs also need expereinced people willing to work with them and put up with a lot (anybody remember Caine’s half coyote who would keep its bones in her bed? Not everybody’s cup of tea) and should also only be given to such people. Me, I’m not that people. I still found a rescue dog. Socks isn’t the biggest fan of tall men and strangers, but he’s affectionate, smart and very easy to train. It’s also not like every individual of a certain breed will be a perfect example of that breed. The one dog in our doggy school group that had the most issues and the least progress was a Golden Retriever.

Also, as I mentioned, people go for looks and images, but not actual breed behaviour. They get a Dachshund (you shouldn’t) and are surprised that it’s stubborn as fuck. Those doggos were bred to hunt badgers, alone in the dark. They do their own thinking. They get any kind of shepherd and are surprised the dog is herding and nipping. They get a lifestock guarding dog and are surprised that their dog doesn’t listen at all because for centuries those dogs have stayed with the herds without seeing a human for days.

That’s also something you have to take into account when getting a rescue mutt. Pay attention to the telltale guarding dog looks. So yeah, getting arescue requires you to do some thinking and careful choice of dog, but so does getting a purebred.

Fourth argument: I want a dog that was socialised well

It’s one I will let somewhat stand. A good breeder does a lot of work to make sure the puppies have a good start. They will be carefully introduced to stimuli, socialised, and will have some basic connection to humans. It certainly gives you a headstart with your dog. But it also doesn’t mean that you don’t have to work with the dog. As mentioned before, Socks and I go to doggy school. We’re in a group of dogs the same age and have been for the last 6 months. At the start, Socks had some catching up to do, since he didn’t have any training before he was adopted, and was also new to a lot of situations. But by now he has well caught up and is often ahead of the well socialised purebred classmates.

Fifth argument: Good breeders health test their dogs

Another two sided sword. Yeah, good breeders will health test their dogs to some extent before breeding them, but this opens a whole can of worms: Breed specific health issues, fucked up breed standards and genetic diversity. Many popular breeds have so little genetic diversity that all individuals are genetically as close as siblings or first cousins. It’s no use that their pedigree shows no direct inbreeding, they simply don’t have a large enough gene pool. Now taking out individuals with certain traits will further decrease the gene pool. This is why many breeds simply cannot remove certain unhealthy traits by no longer breeding those individuals. Apart from creating more suffering, it’s not possible to create healthier Frenchies by breeding longer snout individuals. It’s only now that we’re beginning to understand how certain things are related. Did you know that white coats and being deaf is related? For decades breed standards demanded a colour that also carried a high risk of deafness, but now breeds like Dalmatians have lost all other healthy allels. Back to the Goldie? I love them, but their hips are fucked. People joke about them eating everything, but just like Labradors most of them are missing the gene that regulates hunger and being full. While the assorted retrievers are not among them, honestly a lot of breeds simply need to go. The giants and the teacups, the brachycephalic dogs, and many many more. No amount of health testing will solve issues that are breed standards, especially if there isn’t a viable population without those issues. They would need to cross in other dogs nad that will never happen. Not only would it change their beloved standards, it would also mean investing money and not making it (that’s also the reason why doodles won’t become breeds).

Does a rescue guarantee a healthy dog? Nope. After all, their gene pool is the same fucked up mess, you’re just combining more. Our neighbours have a lovely rescue mutt who’s going blind. White coat, blue eyes, high probability. But it means that you’re not supporting a sick system.

Sixth (and for now final) argument: Foreign rescues are just puppy mills in disguise / they clogg local shelters 

Again one that has some truth to it. With foreign rescues being pretty popular, it attracts two types of unethical players.

Type one: The puppy mill. They always have cute puppies for adoption. They’re all mutts, so nobody suspects a puppy mill at first and they will tell you some sob story. A good rescue will have all kinds of dogs. They will occasionally have puppies, but you will also be able to get the spayed momma dog after the puppies are weaned.

Type two: The Good Samaritians Without a Plan. While Type one is in for the money, these people are in for feeling good themselves. Their goal is to get as many dogs out as possible without actually making sure that those dogs go to good homes. They will often allow people to adopt just after having seen a cute pic and heard a sorry tale, they will not check before, they will brush over issues and have absolutely no plan B. They do significantly contribute to the local shelter population.

If you ever look into getting a foreign rescue, these are the signs of a reputable organisation:

-There are dogs you cannot adopt. Not all dogs will adjust to a family life. Some are too traumatised to ever trust humans again. You can sponsor them, and they get to live the rest of their days in peace, fed, safe and cared for.

-They work locally. That’s like the biggest point. A good rescue organisation wants to make itself unnecessary. They offer spaying and neutering for the locals, they educate people on how to prevent unwanted litters, thus reducing the number of animals that need them.

-They have foster places where the dogs can adjust and you can get to know the dogs. While they may also do direct adoptions where you get the dog without it having lived with a foster family, they do so responsibly

-They check on you and won’t just give you a dog. The foster lady we got Socks from is a friend of my friends, so we already had a good reputation by hearsay, but she still had us fill out all the forms, talked about problems that may happen and checked us at home to see if our data was correct, the same way a good breeder does.

-They have a plan B. Even with a careful adoption process, things can go wahoonie-shaped. A goood rescue still feels responsible for the dog. Our contract states that we cannot sell or surrender the dog without their approval, if they disapprove the dog goes back to them. That’s an important point. It also means that they’re a lot more careful about whom they give which dog. They want things to work, because otherwise the dog becomes their problem again.

-They never apply emotional pressure to make you adopt a dog. No sob story. No “if you don’t take it, it will be killed”. They may ask for your money (I swear, in the end you pay as much for the rescue as you pay for a purebred, just that you pay a little every once in a while), but never for you to adopt more dogs than you can handle.

-They are honest. If you llok at their website and find dogs with trust issues, there’s a good chance that you can also get one without trust issues and not one who is deeply traumatised but has been lied about.

 

As you see, I’m not at all unsympathetic to people who responsibly get a certain breed, and I won’t claim that rescue dogs are for everybody, but I’m so sick and tired of those bullshit arguments.

Socks’ Adventures: The Big Water

Socks:

Did you know there’s different types of water? I didn’t! I mean, water and me, we go way back. Like, I practically started drinking that stuff when I was a puppy. But the Fam showed me that you can even use it to get your paws wet? I’m still not the biggest fan of swimming. Usually we go to a small waterhole where the water is always cold and tastes really good. Mum and the Fam insist on throwing my toys in there when they could just throw them in the meadow, but I will admit that it does cool down. Also you can rub yourself dry in the dirt afterwards. Mum loves that.

Small black and white dog in the "Watt"

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Now, where was I? Right, water. There was a big water there. Like real big. But only sometimes. Sometimes there was a lot of mud. Mud is cool. The Fam took me there the first evening. There were puddles and mud and I quite liked that, but that water tasted really bad. I tried it and it was way too salty. And I tried again and it still hadn’t bettered its ways. Not even the third, fouth and whatever numbers come after that time. Stupid water.

Small dog swimming in the sea

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Socks’ Adventures: Holidays

In memory of the unforgotten “Jack’s Walks”

Holidays are a curious human invention. We pack up our lives to go and live them somewhere else for a while. Socks, with his glorious 13 months had no idea what they are.

Socks:

I knew that something was up. One day, they brought a big box home. A bit like a car (I don’t like riding cars), but not quite, so when the fam offered me treats, I was willing to enter. They praised me a lot, but really, I don’t know why. It smelled like the fam, but old. Whatever. Then they started putting a lot of boxes where they don’t belong. Really, mum, I know you’re not the best housekeeper, but clothes in the kitchen? As this went on, I got more and more nervous until finally, one day, you guessed it, they put me into the car. I don’t like riding cars! But there was a lot of treats (Leberwurst!) and actually there weren’ many stops or those wiggly things where your body moves without you doing anything, so I decided to take a nap.

A small black and brown dog napping in a doggy car seat

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A couple of naps later we arrived somewhere strange. It smelled very different, a bit like fish. I like fish! And the trees were gone. What did they do to the trees? But at least there was green grass and it wasn’t as hot as it was at home. There the grass is turning brown. I don’t like that. It doesn’t taste good, either. I was a bit confused as to what we were doing there, but hey, I thoght, now we live in the box on the green grass.

 

A small black an brown dog lying on the bed in the caravan

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To be continued….

 

 

 

 

The wee gardening of 2026

When we bought our house 10 years ago, we knew that the garage would need to be replaced. The house and garage are built against a hillside. What’s the groundfloor on the street side is the first floor on the garden side. The garage is 2 storeys, which is pretty handy as it gives you a room to store the garden stuff. The hill is rock, but at the lower end it’s just the ground. The pleople who built the garage were incompetent. One part is built on the solid rock, the other part was just 5cm of concrete on sand. Yeah. Of course the sand gave way, there were tears and gaps that got always bigger and last year the tension finally started to tear the roof apart. At that point we needed to act and had the old one torn down and a new one built. The people who tore down the old garage had it fall into the greenhouse. The people who built the garage had to trample a lot of our terracing.

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The now defunct greenhouse. After 9 months and several angry phone calls the dude finally called his insurance.

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The sad remains of the terraces.

There was absolutely no time to repair the damage this year. Maybe next year, if we get the fence put up this year. As a result, I didn’t even attempt to plant a lot. I grew some courgettes and Hokaido squash. The courgettes were interesting. They germinated quickly and grew into beautiful plants, so I repotted them when it was time. They all died. A few late seeds were still in the tray, so I let those grow and then planted them in the ground. They all but one died. The remaining one has grown past the size where the slugs will eat it and hopefully give more than enough courgettes.

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My courgette

The squash was more successful, I now have 4 nice plants.

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I dind’t grow my own tomatoes but just bought some young plants. They’re in pots so they can be moved should it be a rainy summer.

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Oh, and I planted some sunflowers. Let’s see how they grow.

Of Boomers and dogs

Before you “not all men” me: of course, not all boomers…

A small tricolour dog is trying to steal a colourful sheet from the couch

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Putting fresh sheets on the couch actually requires zero dogs….

Boomers largely grew up with dogs. They were something you just had, much the same way you had kids and they were treated much alike: they were supposed to be quiet, well behaved and functioning, and the means to achieve that was violence. Becoming adults, many of them stopped having dogs but not children, but the children were still raised much the same. Maybe the belt was replaced by the bare hand, but violence was still very much the preferred method of “teaching” kids. Gen X and Millenials mostly put a stop to this, making grandparents catch up with the 21st century or cutting them off and protecting their children.

While not every popular trend in current child rearing is actually good, today’s parents are much more consciously thinking about how they want to raise their children. Many read books or go to parenting classes. While they may not always achieve it, they do want to raise their children without violence and trauma. And actually, much the same is happening with dog training. We don’t just expect dogs to function. We see them as creatures with both needs and also somelevel of understanding. We actively learn how to interpret their body language correctly. A wagging tail does not mean a happy dog. A wagging tail means an excited dog, but not whether he’s positively excited or actually upset. (With Socks you can tell a genuinly happy wag by the fact that he’ll also wag his entire butt. Which is extremely cute.)

If the boomers didn’t choose to keep dogs, there was no such pressure on them to catch up with the time. Or as my dad said: “We didn’t have doggy school back then and we didn’t need it. You kids these days.” Enter my father in law, who is like the poster boy for a certain kind of old white man. Not the virulently capital letters Racist or Misogynist, just the ordinary type. A guy who got through life by simply ignoring things he didn’t like, who got his family to not contradict him or have fights with him by being loud. A guy who never had his beliefs challenged. Back to the topic: a guy who thinks he knows how to handle dogs, even though he hasn’t kept dogs in 60 years.

Socks is still learning many things and one of them is to tolerate people in “his” space. He’s a rescue who has finally found his safe place, a rescue who, like almost all rescues, has an issue with big loud men, and a kokoni, who was bred over two millenia to protect the home. This means that when people enter our home who have not been added to his expanding list of trustworthy humans, he is often insecure. That means barking and keeping his distance, but it also means giving warning signs. Growling, showing teeth, snapping at the air. Which my father in law all takes to mean “please keep getting closer, especially reaching over me with your big hands and try to touch me, preferrably on my head”. And no matter what you say, he’ll keep doing it. The father in law, not the dog. The dog is much more teachable. This is the way biting happens, but of course it’s the dog who gets blamed then.

Training Dogs: Gender Gap

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Every dog whenever the task at hand requires zero dogs.

Patriarchy doesn’t even leave our pets alone. Cats are clearly female coded: they’re domestic, clean, elegant, and also you can become a crazy old cat lady. Dogs, with the exception of certain small breeds, are male coded: outdoors, action, dirt! In children’s media a cat character is most likely to be female, a dog character is male. Even without gendered nouns (in German “cat” is female and “dog” is male), English speaking kids often think that “cats are girls and dogs are boys”. With this in mind, you should think that I’m the lone woman in a group of men at doggy school, right?

Nope. There’s occasionally a guy, but the main human partner for most dogs is a woman. Since I doubt that most dogs are a “I made puppy eyes at my husband until he thought it was easier living with a dog than with a wife who wants a dog” situation like ours, something doesn’t add up and I took it totally scientifically to Mastodon for a poll.

I know that the results are not in any way representative, but there was a tendency that I find interesting:

If the dog went to doggy school, the main person responsible was almost always a woman. If the couple was fine without doggy school, the dog duties were more equal. In no group did men do the majority of care and training.

What was also interesting were the conversations in the comments below. One guy remarked that most doggy schools are run by women and apparently men do have a huge problem with going to a woman and admit that they need her expertise. He furthermore counted that his wife is indeed a certified dog trainer, and he is not, but that when he’s around for some reason, the men will flock to him and ask him for his opinion, but argue with his wife.

There’s a saying that men want children like children want a dog. Apparently men also want dogs like children like dogs

Teacher’s Corner: Teaching kids and training dogs

Small tri colour dog lying on his back in a fluffy bed

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Socks has been living with us for two months now, and after he settled in, I took him to doggy school. While we were absolutely lucky in getting a dog with very few behavioural issues who’s keen to learn, he needs training. He was abandoned as a puppy and grew up in the shelter, so he never had any of the usual training. As a teacher, I don’t like badly raised kids and poorly trained dogs. I love my friends’ dogs, but seriously, they’re a nightmare trainig wise, only being manageable by either having a gentle nature (big dog) or being a prototypical small dog (no manners but easily controllable). I also would like Socks to become a school dog one day and therefore he needs a solid basis. So I’ve been taking him to doggy school for the last weeks, for general training and for recall. Right now it’s breeding season anyway, so dogs need to be on a lead, but hopefully once that’s over we’ll have a solid recall so he can have more freedom.

In recall training (and in general training), we mostly work with classic conditioning: Desired behaviour is rewarded. I’m very happy to live in a country where it’s illegal to torture your dog in the name of training with prong collars or worse electric collars. So for recall, our first job was to find out what our dogs love the most. Not only did we have to test what their favourite snacks are, but also what others things could motivate them to abandon whatever they’re doing elsewhere and to come back to us. So each team in the group came back with different answers, which got me thinking: Now, of course children are not dogs. I can’t explain to Socks why it’s important that he doesn’t just run into the street because there’s a blackbird on the other side. He’s got all the understanding of a toddler. Instead I teach him that sitting down and waiting for me the lead the way gets him a reward. But children are similar to dogs in that they’re all different and want and need different things. And unlike with my dog, I can’t sit down and analyse those things for 250 different kids. And I can’t implement them for 25 different kids in a classroom. The ressource “teacher” is spread a lot more thinly than the resource “dog owner”. But we thoght it would be fun to try and throw them a cheese cube every time they gave the correct answer…

Teacher’s Corner The integrative power of small towns

As you may remember, I now teach at a comprehensive close to home. This has many advantages, but it also means that my private life isn’t as private anymore. From running into parents while shopping over meeting students at the gym before it burned down (I do have a solid alibi for that one) to them playing trick and treat at my house at Halloween. Recently a kid asked me if I lived close to place where I actually live. She’d seen me walking the dog. She lives in a social housing estate on the other side of the street while I live in a street of nice semi detached private family homes.

This got me thinking how in small towns there is pretty little social segregation. Sure, our social backgrounds are different, we still live in the same nice area. The whole town has one primary school where all children of all backgrounds meet. Sure, you can then send your kid to the more exclusive secondary schools after that, but even then they will meet all the other kids at the sports club*. Not even horse riding is safe and we don’t have a golf club.

In big cities, the social housing estate or a poor part of town will have enough kids to fill their own primary school and so will the wealthier parts of the city. Here? No chance. And while there is prejudice against people living in street x, even the snobbiest parents have little chance to keep their kids from knowing “those kids”.

 

*Unlike in many other places, in Germany children don’t do extracurriculars at school but in public sports clubs where they live. If you play football, you don’t play with your schoolmates, but the kids from your town / village and might meet your schoolfriend at a match, playing against each other.

 

Please meet Socks

With all the horrors going on in the world, let’s have something positive. Please meet the newest member of the Giliell family: Socks

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I’ve always wanted a dog. I wanted a dog before I could write “dog”, but of course my parents said “no”. Later the circumstances weren’t right. First I was a poor college student, then I had two small kids in a small flat, then I had long commutes. Now the kids are mostly grown, we live in a house next to the woods and my commute is 10 – 20 minutes. The only other obstacle was my beloved not wanting a dog, but over the last 2 years the kids and I wore him down. Now the question was “What dog and when”? The “what was pretty easy. We wanted a small to medium mixed breed rescue and went with a rescue that brings in street dogs and dogs from kill shelters in Romania. Now, when you get your dog from a foreign rescue you have to be careful about some things, just like when you get your dog from a breeder, “breeder” or local shelter. We went with one that had a couple of decades of history, makes sure they visit prospective adopters and most importantly where the local contact / foster mum is a personal friend of our BFF’s mum.

Why not a local shelter? Two problems: First, someof them have unrealistic expectations like you mustn’t work outside the home and leave the dog alone. Second: German shelters are 80% populated by dogs that people shouldn’t have gotten in the first place: dogs listed as potentially dangerous like staffies, bullies, etc and their cross breeds and high need dogs like Malinois or Kangal. I can’t do a high need dog, which is what I also told the rescue lady, so we worked together. Our initial plan was to look for a dog that would then go on the March transport. She would foster until the start of the easter break and then we’d have 2 weeks to get used to each other.

Then she got a foster dog on the January transport and told me: “Come look at this one, I thinks that’s the onbe for you”, so we went for a first visit. The dog we met was still very shy and had to be carried across the doorstep because he was afraid, but we instantly fell in love. The little guy even matched the name my daughter had already picked back when we first decided to get a dog: Socks.

Small tri colour dog being carried, looking very shy

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Look at how shy he was back then!

Within days we agreed on a “test” day and then a few days later went to pick him up. He very quickly lost all that shyness once he realised that finally had a family.

The doggie lying on his back with his mouth open next to a leg. You can see a hand giving belly rubs. He looks cheeky.

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Did I mention that we’d wanted a mixed breed? Joke’s on me.

The rescue guessed that he was an Australian Shepherd mix, which, if you look at pics of tri colour Aussies does make some sense.

Tri colour Aussie in a field of flowers

By Wikimedia Commons

But some things didn’t quite add up:

  • He’s looking very much like an Aussie, except for his build. He’s relatively short legged and pretty small. If one of his parents was an Aussie for those Aussie looks, what was the other parent?
  • No characteristic double coat.
  • None of the herding behaviour I remember from our friends’ Aussie mix
  • Digging. He loves digging so much

Last weekend somebody said: “He looks like a Kokoni” and I was “he looks like a what?” Please meet the Kokoni, one of the world’s most ancient dog breeds. They’re thankfully not a recognised breed by any kennel club, but they have been around in Greece for probably 3.000 years, while being rarely known outside of Greece (but it’s not too far away from Romania where he was found). I looked the breed up and sure there was my dog. Not only were there pictures that looked exactly like him, the breed description also describes his character to a T. Thankfully since nobody has ever come up with any breed standards, they have no known breed specific health issues. They’re friendly, active, loyal and smart and they’re also used to keep mice and rats away. That explains the digging.

So how’s life with a dog? Of course it’s work. My day now starts at 5:30 so I can walk the dog before I go to work. But you know what? It’s doing me good. Getting up has always been my nemesis, and I’ve been known to hit the snooze way too often. Guess what? The dog doesn’t have a snooze button, so I get up at 5:30 and then we get ready and I arrive at work without being in a hurry. Also the first week or so I was totally exhausted because I wasn’t used to walk 5-7 km each day, but I’ve built up the stamina and also my jeans fit much better. But the best of all ist coming home and being greeted like I’d gone to Antarktca in a Tshirt and still came back.

The conservative inability to consider others as people

A sign that says: "I don't know how to explain to you that you should care about other people"My favourite aunt in law married a card carrying conservative guy. He is, like many of them, a wonderfully nice person when you’re a member of the in group and I actually do like him as a person.But his politics… Now, I have decided that I will not discuss politics with him until he’s back in the workforce. You see, the current conservative motto here is that people unjustifiably have a life and don’t work enough. There are plans to abolish the 8 hour work day for more “flexibility”, i.e. 12 hour shifts. They keep telling us that not only do we need to retire later, we also need to keep working once we are retired.

My conservative uncle? After he worked very hard to inherit money from his aunt, he decided at 63 that he has now worked enough and can live off his savings, especially since he’ll accomplish another great achievement by inheriting more money from his dad. So in short, he’s the perfect example of preaching water and drinking wine. There’s no use trying to argue with him, so I tried to steer clear of political topics at my cousin in law’s wedding last weekend, until…

Well, it wasn’t even a discussion, it was the perfect example of an old white man being completely unable to even consider that other people’s lives might be different from his. Somebody mentioned that food has gotten terribly expensive, as every statistic you care to look at will show, and while all other people in the group sighed and agreed, he told us that THEY hadn’t increased their food budget in three years. As a couple each of them contributes a fixed amount to their food budget, and while this isn’t how want to run a family budget, that’s none of my business. Anyway, he then explained that they achieve this by combing through the special offers, making a shopping list with the things they need and the places where they’re cheapest and then just go from one place to the other. I said: “Yeah, that’s good and well, but the two of you are both retired, you do have the time, us, we both work full time”, something that everybody should easily agree with, right? Oh no, I was informed that this had nothing to do with retirement. This was just a matter of planning and priorities! You see, looking for the offers just takes 10-20 minutes! A lie, if I ever saw one. It takes about 20 minutes for us to make a normal shopping list and that’s with us having a whiteboard on the cupboard where we write down what we need already. Comparing different supermarket brochures to find the best offers and combinations would surely take at least twice as long, if not longer. And of course it’s then just 2 to 3, maximum 4 different shops! All across town, of course…

I kindly informed him that I’m so busy, if he tells me that I have to spend just one more hour on shopping a week, I will cry. That was met with baffled silence. Again, he’s not a bad guy. If you told him “I need you here” he’d drop everything and come running. But he is completely unable to even recognise his own privilege. If he can do it, so can everybody else! I’m pretty sure that he’d pout if I even mentioned the word “privilege”, and I think he’s the poster boy of the kind of old white men who will be literally literally the death of us.

Teacher’s Corner: Keep your paws off the holidays and buy those damn pencils

A drawing of a  yellow school bus in front of a blue sky with the words "Back to School"

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Ahhh, August. Summer, ice cream, ripe fruit … wasps and parents on social media.

There are two discussions on social media right now that I find highly problematic. One is as sure as the fruit fly invasion, the other one is relatively new, so let’s start with that one.

I saw complaints, on social media, in traditional media, usually from parents, that the school holidays are too long. This cry seems to be independent from the actual length of the summer holidays. Germany is towards the low end with 6 weeks, while Spain gets a whole three months. The complaint is that parents don’t have that many days off and that those long summer holidays are from a time when mothers stayed home.

Now, I fully understand that childcare is a problem for working parents. But really, forcing kids as young as 5 to conform to capitalism’s desire to control our lives? Is that the answer? Not to mention that the very same parents would then have two other problems:

First of all, not everybody can get days off from work at the same time. Not even in Europe. Already people have to coordinate with co workers. For years my husband and his colleague had to decide who’d get the first, and who’d get the last three weeks. No matter how long the holidays are, they’d only ever get half of them off, which means that either you and your spouse never get a holiday together, or you’d still be stuck with a childcare problem.

Second, family holidays are already expensive as fuck. Families are a captive audience, so to speak. Shorten the holidays, shorten the main season, see prices soar.

Which all leads me to the suspicion that they don’t actually want more education, they want childcare where they’re free to take the kids out of class for a holiday. And since they are all working under the false assumption that teachers have all those school breaks as paid time off, they want to punish us and make us “work like normal people”. But here’s a heads up: If we work like normal people, I will not call you, read or answer your emails or schedule an appointment after 4 pm or at the weekend. I will absolutely not grade at the weekend. Trips? Forget about it. A 4 days class trip is 60 unpaid hours. Oh, and I will take my days off when I want.

Also, how much do you actually hate your own kids? They made it through the year, they are exhausted, there’s a heat wave and you want them to sit in class and do homework? What parents should be asking for is cheap or free summer daycare*, but then poor kids might profit as well and I guess we can’t be having that. Instead parents demand that their kids be turned into good little workers.

*My kids had that in primary school and it was amazing. I could never have organised all those activities myself.

Imagine some clever way in which I linked the two topics here

Which leads me to the second part, the inevitable whining about school  supplies. Let me get my point clear before I continue: I’m the first person to demand that we finally properly finance education and also school supplies. Schools should get both the money and time to organise and buy the things needed, including exercise books, folders and pencils. But I guess until that moment, we’re stuck with the Karens on Instagram. (If we did, they’d probably complain about not liking the colour of the pencils).

What really annoys me about this discussion is that it takes away attention from actual issues with school supplies: They can be a huge burden for poor families, especially when a kid starts school. Every year I have to collect (as a teacher) and pay (as a parent) “photocopy money”, to pay for each and any copy  we make. On top of the usual supplies, this can be quite difficult, especially if you have more kids. I always inform my students to discreetly tell me if they need more time. I’ll then put my broad back between them and administration and take the blame for not handing the money in.

Another issue is that there are colleagues who do use this as a personal self fulfillment trip with seriously ridiculous demands. I once had a colleague who insisted on fountain pens in year 8. Like, WTF?

But all that justified criticism gets drowned out by the Karens and Sabines*, usually financially safe white women, crying about having to spend two hours shopping for supplies and another two hours with labelling them, if they care to do so. Why don’t the teachers do it???, they want to know. Well, maybe because you’re not paying me. Just a guess. Why would I spend even more unpaid hours and pay with my own money, hoping that in a couple of months you will deign to pay me back? I already spend more on supplies for other people’s kids than I spend on my own kids. And again, what message are you sending to your kid? That school and education are not your priority. That you don’t really care. Lady, that’s not a good look.

*Of course it’s not the Todds and Martins who do this because they don’t even know what year their kid is in.

To finish my rant, parents and their ever growing sense of entitlement are really the worst part of the job. So if you’re friends with a teacher, remember to keep them from social media in August and maybe give them some pencils.