Full Moon

I'm no astrologer, but long-time interest in astrology has given me enough insight to know that the full moon symbolizes endings and completion. I'm not sure that that notion has ever been more true than now. The last few weeks have kicked some a** (sometimes via my loved ones) in terms of endings and good-byes, life-altering changes, burned bridges and some not-so-happy surprises. And it isn't the first time.

I have noticed over time that, as much as I resist change fervently, it occurs without warning and without the courtesy of awaiting input from me. That's life. Without change there could be no improvement, no forward movement. Without endings, no magical beginnings could ever occur. It would all be the same, all the time. Comforting, maybe. Stimulating, invigorating, the stuff of being alive? Not so much. I love that my age has provided me with at least some ability to be philosophical.

The pain of loss evaporates over time. I have learned that much. As much as we try to cling to the threads of memory, most of the details dissipate like smoke over time. At first we panic as we cling to them, but it's a natural process. We HAVE to let go or we don't heal. The more we do it, the better we get at it. It's how we eventually can look back and smile when we remember those we've lost. Even when those losses are by choice and not forced by death we can sometimes have those moments of happy memory.

Mourning is easy. It's not something that we think about and must orchestrate. It takes us over and takes us down. All we have to do is succumb to it until it allows us to surface once again for air. That's when the real work begins. The work of rebuilding the life destroyed in the wake of loss. Like any journey, it begins with one step, and then another. Sometimes those first steps are shaky and uncertain, but become more and more deliberate as the road ahead opens up before you. This is the important part. Deciding who you want to be and learning how to be in the world without your loved one.

And you really DO get to decide. With every end, a new beginning. With winter's passing comes the spring. How timely to think of it that way. As painful as things can be, eventually the sun comes out again and it can feel like seeing it for the very first time. It will warm your face and make you smile and remind you how beautiful life is, right now, and how much is out there waiting for you. You can do this. You've done it before and it just made you stronger and smarter. All will be well again, I promise.

For my loved ones who have suffered so much the last few weeks...

Dominic

Tommy and Dominic share a bite

The conversation went something like this:

Me: "But Tommy...the puppy loves you!"
Tommy:  "I don't have time for a dog right now. And I'm NOT going to spend $1500 on a dog!"

I remember it like it was yesterday. My friend Autumn was working for a Doberman breeder and she convinced me that I should too. It didn't take a lot of convincing. She and I had fallen in love with a beautiful male puppy-the last one left. We knew and loved the puppy's parents (in fact we were both with the puppy's dad when he later passed away). But it wasn't just about that. It wasn't just that he was beautiful, it wasn't even about his amazing bloodlines. He was just...cool. He had swagger, even when he was just kicking back in his run, leaning against a run pad. He even made taped ears look good. He had been held by the breeder because he was spectacular and an excellent breeding candidate. But they were considering retirement. Autumn and I were in agony about the idea he might be sold, but neither of us was in a position to have another dog; I already had four, and Autumn had three.

"PLEASE pay attention to the puppy!" the breeder pleaded with Autumn before they went on vacation. The puppy took turns coming home with us. He hung out with our dogs, played with my daughter and did what puppies do. One night, I convinced Tommy, my boyfriend at the time (we broke up many years ago now, but have been friends ever since) to meet Autumn at the kennel with me. He fought the idea, but in the end he went to the kennel. It was the first time he met the puppy, and though Tommy wouldn't admit it at the time, it was love at first sight for both. Autumn and I exchanged looks, and I knew we had the same diabolical plan: Tommy could buy the puppy. As far as we were concerned it was a done deal. I mustered up my considerable manipulative skills and set to work.

In spite of Tommy's initial resistance (resistance is futile!), the puppy's considerable charms (and surprisingly little nudging from me) quickly won him over. How can anyone resist a Doberman puppy when they are all wiggly snoot and feet, with dorky taped ears? In no time at all, Tommy was sitting in the breeder's office with the puppy squirming on his lap, credit card in hand. Autumn and I were ecstatic, of course. I had a few concerns initially about whether I had set Tommy up for more than he was ready to handle, but he turned out to be a first rate doggie-daddy. He named the puppy Dominic after his grandfather. "The Puppy" finally had a name.

Tommy was right about how busy he was back then. He had a full time job working for an upholstery shop and he was the bass player in a band that toured regularly, sometimes for a month at a time in Europe. For the first few years Dominic spent that time with us, then his family took over the Dober-care. Either way, Tommy knew his faithful friend was happy and safe until he came home. In fact, with Tommy's love and devotion, Dominic never knew a day of pain; he always ate the best food always had his morning walk, always saw the vet when he needed to. Always. He never lacked for a single thing. He grew up to be as beautiful and wonderful as anticipated, thriving as the center of Tommy's Universe. A Doberman's favorite place to be.

We took Dominic to training classes with a local police chief. He was very impressed with him. I can't be sure, but I don't believe the chief ever charged Tommy for being in the class. Dominic was a quick study and reached maturity as a very popular pinscher. Tommy bought Gia to be his companion (and though her lines weren't quite as impressive as Dom's, she was pretty amazing in her own right). Tommy was as amazing with two dogs as he was with one. Eventually Dominic and Gia had a litter. I have seen and cared for a lot of puppies, but these kids were unforgettable. Not a dud in the bunch. Even the vet was impressed, and when we pointed out our 'runt', all he could do was shake his head and say "If that's your runt, this is one impressive litter".  I remember them well: Murphy (yes, my Murphy) Zara, Annie, Tia, Kristi and Fracas (who, for some reason we called 'Ficus'). And I remember how Tommy cared for them. They were always clean, always shiny. I found myself impressed again.

It was to be Gia's only litter; she developed an infection and needed to be spayed. The puppies were sold to carefully pre-screened homes until only Murphy was left. Then the conversation went something like this:

Tommy: "There's a guy in Rutland who's into dog sports and he wants to buy Murphy. I think he might be into breeding too."
Me: "Yeah? Is he a good guy?"
Tommy: "Yeah, he sounds great. He would pay good money for him too. Or you could just keep him, and I would end up paying most of his medical expenses for the rest of his life." (a fair assessment of the situation!)
Me: "What do YOU want to do?" (hopeful!)
Tommy: "Dammit...come get your dog."

It was so Tommy.

Gia passed away suddenly at the age of six, and it was just Tommy and Dominic again. Or more accurately, tommyanddominic. Years go by as they do. Time moves us forward. We grow and change. Tommy opened his own upholstery shop and gave up his music. Tommy's business, perhaps due to karma, has always been in the black. He and Dominic continued on their comfy routines. Dominic always looking and acting much younger than his age.

A couple of years ago, I noticed for the first time that Dom was slowing down. I told myself he was fine. Dom had never been frail; he was a solid wall of Doberman to an imposing degree. Tommy noticed it too, though he didn't say it often. His walks in the field became much-loved visits around the neighborhood. Comfortable beds, though always a priority, became more so. Tommy catered to his aging friend's every need without complaint, always putting him first. That's who Tommy is.

About a week ago, Tommy started calling me about Dominic's health. I could hear the frantic edge just beneath the surface, but Dominic had pneumonia and there was nothing I could do. I imagined what he was going through, the now-frail Dominic fading in front of him. Still, I held fast to the idea that if he could recover, he would be fine.

Dominic passed away in Tommy's arms this morning, surrounded by his family and in his own yard. He would have been thirteen on May 19th. It doesn't seem real. In the end, it isn't about the money we spent, or bloodlines. It isn't about certificates on the wall. It's about who they are. That's the part that touches us, and never lets us go.

RIP my friend.

Mythunderstanding

I read an article the other day in which a dog trainer stated "I can't imagine any training situation in which I would employ a prong collar". I'm glad she said it that way. There was an addendum to the article that went on to ask "How hard a jerk on the collar is enough to have the desired effect of suppressing behavior without mentally or physically damaging the dog?" as though "jerking on the collar" is part and parcel of prong collar use and suppressing behavior is ever a desired goal. And even more disturbing to me "...if you punish in anger and your violence is reinforced, you are likely to get violent more, and more easily." HOLY CRAP. Do people really believe that this is what a prong collar is all about? And shouldn't a trainer have the education to know better? Having said that, if someone can't imagine a positive and practical use for this tool and has only been exposed to violence (!?) and misuse, then I agree: Don't include a prong collar in your box of training tools. You don't understand it well enough to use it humanely. But please, be self-aware enough to refer out any dog that doesn't fit within the limits of your training abilities.

It seems to be a very common thing these days: Using words like "cruel", "pain" and "never", and describing horrifyingly incorrect applications as "techniques for prong collar use" and then using this misinformation to perpetuate X, Y or Z training philosophy to the exclusion of all else. Look, if you don't like something, that's fine. If you think it's mean, to YOUR understanding, then that's your prerogative too. But if you are a teacher/trainer, then you have an obligation to educate yourself well enough to give factual information to your clients and NOT just perpetuate myths because they are convenient. Even if you have no interest in using a prong collar, you should at least make the effort to learn the truth about them instead of continuing to recycle the same misinformation. I like to tell horror stories as much as the next guy (okay, probably more than the next guy) but I don't try to pass them off as something they aren't.

So you train pets, and maybe do an AKC sport or two. The vast majority of dogs that you work with would never make it as a working dog because they don't have the temperament, and that's as it should be. Everybody's happy and you can go right on hating prong collars. But what do you do when a client has a tenacious, drivey working dog? You know what I mean, the confident kind that's powerful and strong and physically insensitive. How much do you think this dog gets walked, when, even after lots of training, there are still moments when this dog takes it's owner for a drag after a cat or squirrel? How happy do you think this dog is when he's permanently relegated (aka "managed") to doggie prison (the back yard), given to a shelter or killed because he's too much for his owner, all-positive training isn't cutting it and his owner is out of his or her depth? This is the side the issue that I've seen too often. Add to this the blame that gets aimed at the owner because their dog doesn't fit in "the box" and you probably are looking at a dog with a fairly limited life-span. As trainers, you have a responsibility to do better by the dogs in your care and the owners who come to you and pay you for your help. You have more responsibility for those lives than you do to adherence to a limited set of principles. Many of the best trainers I know don't like prong collars, but they can at least imagine a positive application and understand the need to be flexible when dealing with living and unique individuals.

<sup>Let me be clear here: This isn't my favorite tool. I agree that it's easy to abuse. What I object to is the perpetuation of misinformation by people who are in a position to know better and properly educate their students, and the perpeutuation of misinformation by people who don't have a clue simply because they lack the experience. As always I turn to Susan Clothier for common sense. She doesn't like prong collars either but understands (albeit reluctantly) they still have a place: Training With The Prong Collar 

Ms. Clothier doesn't just say "These are mean and you're a cruel S.O.B. if you use them". She has the wisdom and experience to share her opinion honestly but can add a real education based on an accurate understanding, not just incendiary and incorrect propaganda.</sup>

To tie one on...or not?

Photo: 123RF.com

I've noticed a new trend in the dogosphere: the promotion of colored ribbons used to designate 'safe' vs. 'unsafe' animals. I suppose the idea isn't so new. When I was young and used to show horses, I knew that a red ribbon in the tail of a horse meant that the horse was known to kick. At first I questioned why I needed to know that. My 4-H leader's response was "So you don't ride up that horse's butt".  Well, I had a really good 4-H leader so I already knew not to ride up the butt of ANY horse. Most horses don't like another horse on their heels, so the ribbons seemed superfluous to me. It seemed to me that the horses were being marked for behaving in understandable ways. Having said that, there was invariably that rider who would ride their horse right into another horse, get kicked, and then blame the 'kicker's' rider for not tying a red ribbon in the horse's tail. The incident was usually followed by a bunch of hullabaloo and the announcer providing yet another tired lecture on the importance of red ribbons and understanding what they mean. The point is, the horse who kicked did exactly what horses do when another horse is invading their space, but that horse's rider was always the one taking all the guff. The idiot who rode like she was bowling was treated as an innocent victim. Seriously.

And now there are folks promoting the use of colored ribbons for dogs. Um, okay. I've seen flags, bandannas, patches, badges and most recently The Yellow Dog Project has launched a campaign to promote the use of yellow ribbons. Their message is a simple one: If your dog needs space, tie a yellow ribbon to the leash. If you see a dog with a yellow ribbon on the leash, give it space. I have no desire whatsoever to pick on these folks and what they are doing, but I do have a couple of problems with this system. 1) The folks who most need the reminder to back off aren't the ones who are likely to know what the ribbons mean. Non-dog people are pretty unlikely to have seen the promotional material, as are new dog owners, and 'fur-kid' folks (people who think of their dogs as furry children who can do no wrong). I have used badges and patches (my dog is a service dog) and have STILL had issues with other dogs and people getting in my dog's space. 2) I think a ribbon system can have unintended, negative consequences. It can lead to the assumption that any dog NOT sporting a ribbon is totally cool with being harassed, and that's the OPPOSITE of public education. In fact, as this movement spreads, I have already begun to see this happening.

If we have the opportunity to educate the public, why don't we REALLY educate them? If folks knew the truth about dogs, signs, symbols, ribbons, etc. would become unnecessary and domestic dogs everywhere could heave a collective sigh of relief. I really like Suzanne Clothier's common-sense approach, and highly recommend reading her blog post He Just Wants to Say "Hi" for an insightful look at what many dogs are subjected to in their daily lives. I also suggest checking out Dogs In Need of Space. They are an excellent educational resource and support system for owners who are feeling challenged or for those who just want to know more about appropriate behavior around dogs.

The truth is simple: ALL dogs should be given their space. A dog should NEVER be allowed to run up to a strange dog and get in their face (outside of a specifically designated dog park). A person, adult or child, should NEVER pet a dog without asking. Leash laws should ALWAYS be obeyed. These are basics here folks. This should be common sense to the point where I almost feel silly having to write it. I mean, how foolish would it be if we had to walk around wearing signs and ribbons to prevent strangers from harassing us? WHY do we assume then, that dogs are public domain?

I think too many people misunderstand what it means to be a 'social species'. WE are a social species, but we would still find it incredibly upsetting to have a stranger running at us and touching us and getting in our face. So it is for our dogs. While I have had a few dogs who tolerated this, I have only ever had one that really enjoyed the attention of strangers. It is more uncommon than people want to believe. THAT is what the public needs to learn. Unfortunately for dogs, most of what the public has learned has come from animated children's films about dogs; all the dogs speak in human voices, share human morality, are endlessly devoted to all people, and by gosh by golly all they want is to just be dogs, free to romp and play and sing songs. And if you happen to be the owner (or guardian, parent, whatever) of a dog who doesn't fit this fantasy stereotype, either you are a failure or your dog has something wrong with it. The truth is that most of the behavior exhibited by dogs who would be considered "Yellow Ribbon" worthy, is a natural and normal response to the rude, inappropriate behavior of another dog/person. I think that's the take-away message here.

We shouldn't need anything special to prevent  harassment  by people and other dogs. Common sense and hey, just good manners should be all that is necessary. But an awareness of how rare both of those attributes are these days does lend some credibility to the need for education. Since we are attempting to provide this education, I think we should treat the problem instead of just being okay with addressing the symptom.

Time

I had a birthday last week. I love my birthday, even at my age, because I think of it as my own personal holiday. I make it all about me, and the people around me tend to allow and perpetuate the indulgence. I had to do math (never fun for me) to figure out how old I am because I tend to forget at this point. I think beyond a certain age the numbers become less relevant. I remember how excited I was when I turned 10 because because I was "finally double digits", and the excitement of 13 because I was a "real teen-ager". I remember my not-so-sweet 16, and the ambivalence of turning 21; "Yeah! I can drink legally", but big whoopdee-doo for someone who grew up on the Canadian border;-)

I don't really mind getting older because of the learning curve. My daughter asked me once if I missed my 20's...oh HELL no. I've learned a lot since then, not the least of which is how much there is yet to learn, and I wouldn't go back for anything. In our 20's we tend to know it all. Funny how that works:-) To say I didn't have my priorities straight would be an understatement too. Let's just say I logged some serious mirror time between my single-parenting duties. Funny how when I started worrying more about what was on the inside, the outside, and what people thought of it, seemed far less relevant. I think young people almost always have to go through the 'mirror' phase, but I don't miss it.

One thing I will say about getting older is that time seems to move faster. We understand that there is nothing we could own and no amount of money as valuable as our time. It's something nobody can give us, and yet we are so cavalier about how little we sell our hours and days for. We allow ourselves and our time to be undervalued by others because we undervalue ourselves. It's so common that it's largely unquestioned, and we consider ourselves lucky that somebody else is willing to pay us for our time at all. But each hour, each minute, it's OURS and we can't ever get it back. We think crazy thoughts like "sometimes we have to make sacrifices and that's just what we've gotta do". Um, do we? Or could we just stop being all martyred long enough to realize that we are all good at something, we all have dreams and goals and nobody's dreams and goals are greater or less than anybody else's. So if we're selling our time in pursuit of someone else's success, shouldn't that be worth something? If I want to pursue something free or dirt cheap because it has personal value to me (like this blog), that is my choice, my decision to make. But if I am in pursuit of someone else's goal I expect to be appropriately compensated for my time. MY time. On the flipside of this situation, if you can't adequately or fairly compensate someone for the time they are giving to pursuit of YOUR success, then you should probably do it all yourself. If you can't, then you may want to reevaluate the importance of your workforce and compensate them accordingly. I'm just sayin'. There's a karmic bit to this too. And believe you me, I know all about giving my time away for a pittance. Never again. It's amazing how the Universe cooperates when you finally decide that you are worth MORE.

We all are. We each have to take responsibility for deciding what we are worth, and to do so unapologetically. We are each the Kings or Queens of our own time and ourselves, and there's no price worth giving that away for a pittance. Too many times I've heard someone say "I guess that's good enough" or "at least I have a job". I think that's fine-temporarily. If you just need to get from point A to point B until you can do something worthwhile, well, that's life sometimes. Sometimes compensation isn't monetary, and that's okay too if it's giving something back to you. Some things are even better than money if you have what you need. Settling for years though, not cool. Getting comfortable with being underpaid and undervalued is one of the saddest ways to spend your time that I could ever imagine. But you have to believe in possibilities to pursue your own goals, and years of being undervalued by yourself and others can all but destroy that ability. Sometimes years of being told that you work hard and if you're lucky you have what you need, but BIG successes are for OTHER people is the mantra to overcome. But ultimately, this time is yours and mine and the choices are ours to make. Cool, huh?

Equilibrium

I'm realizing that it doesn't take much to throw me wildly off my game. I am a creature of routines, and anything that veers off course from the norm has a serious "ooh, shiney!" effect on me that it's difficult to recover from. It's been a couple of months since my car and computer bit the dust, and I'm still reeling from the experience. My car is up and running again, better than before, so that's all right, and a huge weight off my shoulders. My computer though, well, that's a different story.

My daughter generously (if a bit fearfully) allows me to use her laptop. I am uber-grateful for the use of the laptop, but it still feels like trying to make a meal in someone else's kitchen or trying to sleep in a strange bed...it's wicked awkward. My files and programs are notably absent and I'm not super sure about how anything is organized. I just can't get comfortable. Comfy enough to write this blog, perhaps. Comfy enough to re-re-re-edit my book so I can move forward on the damned thing, not so much. Certainly, there are things I can be doing, but my brain derails me. I think "well, I could do that interview" or "I could explore that publishing avenue" but the next logical step always involves having access to the book, which I don't. I feel like I will be stopped dead in my tracks (mentally-BAD brain) until I can put my hands on the subject of my focus. I suppose it makes sense to be frustrated by my inability to make progress on a project I don't have access to, but the more time goes by, the louder my internal clock ticks and the more aware I am of time being wasted.

Don't get me wrong. A waste of time isn't always really a waste. Sometimes 'think time' is the most important time of all. I had to learn that the hard way. Sometimes external action is nothing more than the mechanical manifestation of lots and lots internal work. And hey, that's cool. But right now I AM wasting time. I am idling in park, sitting in limbo, twiddling my thumbs and rattling around my space like a singular pea in a multi-pea pod, and waiting. Unfortunately, the downside of being a thinky-person is that my brain is voracious. If I don't give it lots to do and feed it well, it starts to cannibalize itself. Soon, I fear, I will find myself staring at a wall and drooling. Or maybe it's just because it's February:-)

On the upside, the hard drive is ALIVE (thanks to my talented and computer-savvy step dad). I could have lost the whole works, but I didn't. That alone is worthy of celebration. But there is still something wrong with my computer. If you read my blog you know that I am literally plagued with computer problems, I've lost large sections of the book on two occasions and I can't seem to keep things doing what they are supposed to do long enough for me to make much headway at any given time. Ergo, my daughter's understandable trepidation in allowing me to use her laptop. I see her watching me furtively from the corner of her eye while she prays that whatever computer-killing curse I possess remains directed at only my machines. But I digress:-) (is that possible considering the meandering nature of this particular rumination?)

But it will be okay. Things work out in the end, sometimes better than expected. I just need to find a productive way to utilize my time until it's all sorted out. Till next time...

Gun Control

A musket, popular when the constitution was written

I don't have a strong opinion one way or the other about gun control. Maybe it's because my life has never been ruined by gun violence. Maybe it's because I live in a  state with very few gun laws (except those pertaining to hunters) and very little gun violence. Most gun-related death here in Vermont (knock on wood) is the result of  a hunting accident. I don't know if we're lucky or smart. I just know that living in this sort of environment has provided me the luxury of not needing to have a strong opinion. It's not a luxury that everybody has. Even so, as I peruse Facebook (okay, yeah. I spend too much time on Facebook). I don't see much in the way of anti-gun propaganda, but I see tons and tons of pro-gun stuff. It seems a bit unbalanced (an appropriate word in many ways;-). There are so many angry people reacting strongly to a situation that isn't really even a 'thing'.

Okay, a bit of advice here: If you want to make an argument against gun control, you may want to avoid the following: Threats of violence, joking about shooting people for being on your lawn, comparing guns to cars or pencils or any other inane and irrelevant comparison that screams "I SO don't get it!"; over-the-top rage, expressions of bunker-mentality, anti-government and conspiracy references, hyperbole to make a point (eg, "Obama's gun ban" doesn't actually exist, so referencing it angrily and repeatedly makes you sound, um...let's go with 'uninformed') or really anything that may imply you are mad as hell and have no impulse control. I'm just sayin'. There's nothing that says "guns are a bad idea" quite like an angry, reactive person holding a gun (or threatening to hold one).

I believe in the second amendment, I believe in the spirit of the second amendment too. But we have to remember that when the constitution was written, the weapons at our disposal were very different. Our culture was very different. Let me be clear here that I haven't researched the numbers and this is all just opinion, but we have do something. I mean, this is sort of ridiculous if you think about it; we react to everything that is potentially dangerous to the point of redundancy, but we can't touch an item that is actually intended to cause bodily harm without a whole bunch of folks having a total meltdown. Are we really so immature and ridiculous that we can't have a productive and rational discussion about potential solutions? I don't think ANYBODY is suggesting disarming citizens, and it's not something I would support either. But do average citizens need to have access to weapons designed to do maximum damage in a combat situation? I don't think so. In fact, I can't think of a rational argument (remember I said rational) to support such a scenario, but I can think of several reasons 'why not' (as can the families and friends of victims of the many mass slaughters that have occurred in this country in the last several years). Yes, you can kill someone with a car, or a pencil, or hell, even dental floss if you are so inclined. But you can't mow down a room full of innocent people in under a minute.

I don't have a lot of respect for people who like to come across all "bad-ass" because they have guns. It doesn't take a great deal of either 'bad' or 'ass' to own a firearm and threaten someone with it. I do respect people who can solve their problems rationally, guns or no. I respect people who think before they react, who try to see both sides of an argument and who have enough common sense to work through issues and help find solutions. I respect people who can form their own opinions and don't need a well-funded special interest group to feed their opinion to them, even if they happen to be members of the aforementioned group.

We have a lot to think about in this country right now. We have a very real problem with violence. I don't believe that guns are the cause, but they are certainly a means of facilitation. Their misuse is a symptom of a much larger problem that needs to be addressed and some emergency action needs to take place on several fronts, guns included. We can't do anything though, if we aren't even willing to have an open discussion.