Sock’s Adventures: Meet the Pack

When not on holidays, we go on walks with a loose group of neighbours. When we’re all together we’Re quite an impressive pack (which means that we must take good care lest we scare some other doggo), so let me introduce them.

Meet Mistral

Big red flatcoated retriever standing behind a tree stump. Behind him is the forest floor

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Giliell: This calf sized flat coated retriever is Mistral. He’s very chill, but will steal treats from a baby. If he were a human, he’d be everybody’s favourity uncle who shows up to every family gathering, but nobody knows exactly how he’s related to anybody else. His human has to work very hard to maintain his weight, because he’s for sure not doing it.

Socks: My pal. Always up for chasing balls, but sometimes he’ll push me out of the way and steal my treats. Still love him.

Here’s Ylvie

A big flat coated retriever, a small withe mutt and a medium black mutt standing on a tree trunk

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Giliell: Ylvie is a small mutt with a lot of mischief in her little head. She and Socks love each other and will play, but currently Socks is a bit dominant at times and she’s bad at telling him “nope”.

Socks: I love Ylvie. I could gobble her up! But somehow everybody objects to my attempts of doing so.

Her brother Paul

A medium white mutt

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Giliell: Sweet Paul. If you think that’s a cute haircut: it covers the missing eye on his left side. Like many white dogs with blue eyes, he’s suffering from glaucoma and lost his left eye three years ago. If the happens, the prognosis is not good. The second eye will follow, usually within a year. Paul was lucky, he got three, but two weeks ago he went blind. It’s a big adjustment, especially for his humans. While his dad knew that this would happen, he’s still in shock. But Paul is doing quite well. He curled up for a day, but then started to explore again and now goes on walks again.

Socks: Paul is my buddy. When we first met, he did not like me. His humans said it was because I was running around so much. But now we’re buddies. He even gives me kisses!

Here’s Rougette

A black and white dog sitting, looking at the camera, licking its nose

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Giliell: Rougette should be a mess. Can you even guess what went into her? She’s a Dalmatian, Husky, Rhodesian Ridgeback mix who spent her first 6 months locked up in a basement with her parents and litter mates. But still she became a very gently dog, who’s only second to Mistral when it comes to begging for treats. She gets scared of strange men, but when Mr once joined us for a walk, she was easily bribable with treats.

Socks: Rougette is ok, but sometimes she wants too much of mum’s attention or my treats. Then I’ll snap at her. But this morning she actually wanted to play with me. That’s nice

And her big sister Kira:

A German Shepherd standing in front of her toy, tongue hanging out

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Giliell: Oh Jazzlet, you would love Kira. She’s a working line GSD, always in action. She’s full power and elegance and when you see her waiting for you to kick her ball or throw her toy, you can see the wolves in her ancestry. She’s usually not very interested in other dogs, but she’s fiercely protective of her pack. If any other dog is unkind to one of hers she’ll sure teach them the errors of their ways, which can get dangerous because, well, look at that dog.. Socks is absolutely smitten with her, I think she’s his big idol. There’s no toys like Kiras toys, even when we have the exact same toys. Running next to her is heaven, but usually she just ignores him. But then last weekend something happened that none of us expected: Kira initiated playing with Socks. Her human and I were both confused and for a moment we didn’t even realise what was happening. Socks hadn’t nicked her toy or was bothering her, but suddenly she turned around, the started play bows and initiated play. And off they went. The rest of the group was a bit further along the way and when they arrived they tried to stop them, because nobody realised they were playing.

Socks: Isn’t she amazing? When I grow up, I want to be like Kira. She’s the bestest! She also never steals treats. Perfectest dog!

Their little sister Luna:

A small black and white mutt with short hair.

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Giliell: And finally Luna, a very small (just 4 kg) rescue mutt, probably with a lot of Jack Russell. She’s keen, she’s fierce, and she can be an absolute asshole. Remember when I told you that Kira is fiercely protective? So Luna will start shit with Rougette and the Kira will intervene and discipline poor Rougette. She’s also a black hole for treats. When going for walks together or playing at the waterhole, I’ll use the opportunity to train Socks’ recall. Seem’s like I’ve also trained Rougette and Luna.

Socks: Luna is ok, I guess. Bit small for playing but man that girl can eat!

And last but not least: Benny!

A brown mutt looking like a short legged GSD

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Giliell: Benny is another rescue from Romania, I guess that’s why he and Socks get along like a house on fire. He looks like one of those infamous Corgie mixes that always look like the other breed but with a Corgie’s short legs. Benny looks like a GSD with short legs except that he has the most human eyes I’ve ever seen in a dog. His human is somewhat elderly, so he won’t walk the whole distance with us, but walk the opposite direction and meet us towards the end. When we meet, there’s no stopping the boys.

Socks: My BFF! Did you have to leave him for last? Benny’s the best. He smells nice (Giliell: he’s neutered, which seems to smell like a juicy lady) and he likes running and I like running and then we run.

Giliell: Yeah, first there were two dogs, then there are no dogs, but a lot of noise in the underbush. As long as you always come back…

Socks’ Adventures: Walking the Wadden

Giliell’s Notes: The Wadden is a national treasure and national park and an area with imense biodiversity, despite its occasionally bleak looks. It’s fascinating, it’s interesting, but also very dangerous. The difference between low and high tide can be several metres of water in hight and some kilometres in area. The dangerous parts are the tidal creeks. They are like rivers in the Wadden, up to several metres deep in some places, but deceptively shallow in others. At low tide, it’s no problem to cross them and walk up the the water’s edge. When the tide is turning, the edge doesn’t move much, so you might not even notice that it has changed. During the first two hours the water just fills the tidals creeks. Then they run over and the tide climbs in earnest, up to 2cm per minute. If you’re still behind the tidal creeks, you’re now trapped, as the water is now coming from both sides and the current in the creeks is strong and dangerous. That is the moment you call 110 and get to know a lot of people who will now think badly of you. If you want to experience the Wadden, go on a guided tour. If you don’t wnat to spend money, wait until the guided tours set out and stay behind them.

Socks:

They told me we were going on an adventure, but then they put me in the car. Why do all adventures have to start with the car? Anyway, we went to a different place and walked to the big water, only that the big water was gone, but instead there were people and they all went for a walk with me. That’s nice, I like going on walks. I also like the sand and the mud. You can dig in there or do wormies. I love doing wormies, but mum insists on giving me a shower afterwards. Spoilsport.

A small black and brown dog digging in the sand

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A small black brown dog rolling over in the sand. You can see the pattern of last tide's waves in the sand

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Things were fine for a while until we came to a creek and the nice lady who was walking with us said: “Hmpf, I thoight the water would be lower by now. There’s no help for it, we need to walk through.” And by walking, she meant swimming. Not for the twoleggers, but for poor small doggies. I can swim. I just don’t like it a lot.

Small dog swimming in the sea

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On we went and I must say, there were a lot of interesting things, but mum, cruel as she is, didn’t let me have them. No live crabs, no crab shells, no crab shells with half rotten crab parts in them. That was mean! I also wasn’t allowed to chase all them birdies.

Seagulls flying over a tidal creek and exposed sand, with wind turbines in the back

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At some point the twoleggers got very excited, claiming to have spotted some sea dogs (German for seals). Hearing that, I was very excited, too. Would they be nice? Did they want to play? I can tell you, it was very disappointing. The so called sea dogs turned out to be blobs on the far away shore. Not okay.

View across the water towards the opposite shore. On the beach you can see several brown blobs. They're real seals, promise

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Another thing I don’t understand ist the twoleggers obsession with walking to things. The things are never intersting stuff like a nice lady’s pee puddle or a delicious dead animal or something. No, in this case it was a big metal thingy surrounded by water. You know, I wouldn’t have minede it the thing had been on the sand and not in the water, because at that point I really needed to pee, but there was nowhere to pee against.

A red withe tower in the Wadden

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Giliell’s notes: What you can see is the lower range light of a pair of guiding lights. While a lighthouse is typically telling ships where not to go, these tell ypu where to go: You line up the lower range light and the upper range light and keep them straight. Right next to it is the channel towards Bremerhaven, which is deep enough for some of the world’s biggest ships to pass through.

Anther fun thing was the water. Thankfully I didn’t need to swim again on the way back, but the ground was always wet. That’s OK, but can somebody please tell me how I got wet all over? I can’t remember having agreed to any of that!

A small black and brown dog is sitting on the sand. His wet fur is plastered against his body, except for a line of hair on his ridge, standing up like a mohawk

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Finally we returned to the land and boy was I glad! I ran towards the first tufts of grass and peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed. 3.5 hours with no peeing is no fun, I can tell you. So if you ever go to the Wadden, remember to bring your own tree, because they’re really lacking in the tree department there. I wonder how those sea dogs are doing it.

Evening view of the Wadden

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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….

 

 

 

 

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

©Giliell, all rights reserved

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…

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

©Giliell, all rights reserved

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

©Giliell, all rights reserved

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.

©Giliell, all rights reserved

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.

Have some Sheep

It’s been a week and a half since school started and I really could do with some holidays. It’s not the kids, it’s being new at with a new class. Having to do all the administration while significantly lacking in knowing how to is a drag. Each school has their perfect system and, well. It’s also funny what is pretty normal at one school but an absolute no go at another. Because I need a holiday, you get some holiday pictures.

A white sheep on green grass in front of the blue sea

©Giliell, all rights reserved

Sheep are vital in maintaining the dikes. Their hooves put just enough pressure on the ground to make it hard enough, their grazing is just right to encourage the grass to grow deep and strong. Cows are too heavy, goats are too greedy.  Sheep are also cute. While most will run away when humans approach, there’s always one or two that enjoy cuddles. Yes, I cuddled a sheep. It was very fluffy.

So enjoy your fluffy holiday break.

white sheep on a green dike. The sea is far in the back

©Giliell, all rights reserved

 

Here Be Dragons

When I went on to water my greenhouses in the afternoon, this little fellow was on the wall just below the handrail.

© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

I suspect she was just as surprised as I was and she did stay still while I was trying to snap a few pictures with my phone without spooking her. After I came back from watering the tomatoes, she was still there, just a few cm further.

© Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

She eyed me suspiciously and after I snapped a few more pictures in a better light, she finally got fed up with the strange giant who kept putting a big black rectangular thing near her and she jumped straight down (about 140 cm) and scuttled near the wall. She kept watching me warily from there and I did not snap more pictures because I did not want to stress her. When I went by again a few minutes later, she was away.

I have always liked lizards, I consider them to be beautiful. It lightens my mood to meet one in my garden, I like to know they are around.