After Daisy crashed through the fence her first week home, Tom fortified the area with huge blocks of wood. No way could she barge through that. Ugly as it was, we let things be. We needed to concentrate on figuring out how to take her for walks without mutually spiraling into a panic attack.
A week later, she jumped it. It wasn't a little fence, either.
By then our desperate hunt for help had turned up a local dog trainer. She came over and took a long look at Daisy. "Big dog," she said.
She suggested that we tear down the wooden fence and replace it with chain link, topped by spiraling barbed wire. We did want to throw Daisy in jail,
but that seemed extreme.
We may have looked a little shocked. After more discussion, the trainer thought we might be able to put a rolling bar on top of the existing fence so no one could jump or climb over.
We knew we had to do something. One contractor after another came by, walked up and down the fenceline, pointed out the difficult challenges and gave us a stratospheric bid. We decided we'd have to wait until our next paycheck and went with the guy who had brought his small son with him for the estimate. The boy was great with a tape measure and had holes in his shoes.
Another bad choice. The fence turned out a little less than we had hoped for. Not so pretty, either. But it would do. We still had to nail lattice across the top, and our dear contractor had not made that easy. But Tom managed. After his amendments Ms. Athletic would not find this particular barrier so easy to scale.
Plus she had gained some weight after getting off what had apparently been a potato chip and candy diet and onto Chicken Soup for the Dog Lover's Soul. (Note to Diamond Pet Food: This name really doesn't work.) And we got rid of the worms. So leaping tall fences would be more of a challenge.
Daisy settled down and seemed to grow accustomed to the yard. We had nailed up some trim that finished the job, completely blocking the view into the yard behind us. But sometimes we would find her in a corner, staring at the boards. She would just sit there, her nose a couple of inches from the wood. I didn't want to make her any more crazy than she already was.
So we left her a peephole to look into the yard behind us. Two dogs and a cat live there. We hope she'll get used to them.
It's true, though, she has turned into a bit of a Peeping Daisy.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Mellow puppy
Daisy's now snoring at my feet, the perfect angel.
She has made quite a bit of progress. We can even leave the front door open and expect her to stay inside ... most of the time. Over the past few days it has been unusually hot in our foggy little coastal town so I let her lie in the doorway, giant head hanging outside, big fuzzy body inside. But today when she heard Tom start to drive away in my red Mini Cooper, she jumped up and tried to crawl under the fence after him. Even though he posted that idiotic video you see below here.
We took her to the beach for the first time earlier this week. Daisy seems to enjoy the sand in her toes. She'll sit watching the waves, and Tom thinks it has a mellowing effect.
Perhaps. She's been through a tough few weeks: red gooey hotspot on the chin, followed by an unmentionably awful digestive disorder likely caused by too many antibiotics. Then she wouldn't put weight on her left foot for two whole days and morosely plastered herself to the floor most of the time. After a manicure and some foxtail pulling, it took a day but she got better. We still have to cook her meals because of that delicate tummy: Today after our walk I boiled up 12 cups of 5-minute oatmeal, which will last a couple of mornings. Delicious with a little goat milk protein.
Sometimes I read back to the first days of our Daisy Diary for comfort:
3/16 PROGRESS DURING WEEK
*Began sitting alone on deck okay
*Began using yard without acting wild
*Follows me around and sits in the room I'm in
(Uh oh, that's not so good)
*Responds very well to "unh unh" and "no."
*Began sitting alone on deck okay
*Began using yard without acting wild
*Follows me around and sits in the room I'm in
(Uh oh, that's not so good)
*Responds very well to "unh unh" and "no."
Really stretching there, eh? And then there's the next entry:
3/25 RELAPSE
Sally left downstairs door open, neighbors let dogs out below and Daisy snuck down and jumped over fence. Luckily dogs had gone back inside.
My friend Mara tells me that we have to expect it to take years. She worked every day with her nutcase dog for five years in order to get all the tricks down for her Canine Good Citizen test. That girl even achieved a four-minute unsupervised down-stay. Wow!!!
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Friday, May 19, 2006
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Back story
Okay, so here's the deal about Daisy. We had been hunting for a Saint for some time, hoping we might find one that had been abandoned by a family. It happens a lot. They're so cute and fuzzy and soft when they're little. Then they grow up into big creatures with muddy feet and huge tails that knock stuff over.
It seemed like all the little rescue puppies got whisked away before we could act. Guess that's a good thing -- afterall, they all found homes. But then we heard about Daisy. We drove up to Sacramento to see her, and what a beauty! She was really thin and her fur was rough and scraggly, but you could see that she was a great dog and had a sweet personality. She was almost two years old. I was a little worried that she might have hip problems, because she leaned forward all the time and seemed to walk oddly.
That should have been a clue -- but not having to do with her health. Turns out that Daisy was in her natural stance at the time. That is, poised to run.
We were told that her previous owners had left her at the shelter because she had run away from home so many times. Why? Nobody knew. And nobody knew exactly where she had lived -- "somewhere in the Valley" -- or what animal shelter, or what kind of family. All they could tell us was that she was good with kids. They had taken her to the local McDonald's as a test, apparently.
Anyway, the day after we got home we realized we had a spring-loaded, very athletic dog on our hands. First she ran up and down the fenceline, looking for a way to jump over. Then we left her for a half hour alone in the house and she punched her way through the screen and jumped out the window. Tom chased her all the way down to the beach, where she seemed surprised at his concern.
That could all be explained by the history of running away. But when we took her on her first walk. The first two dogs she met growled at her and one bit. The third dog she saw, she took the initiative and scared the little black lab into screeching flight. "So that's why someone dumped that beautiful dog," its owner said knowingly. I was mortified. We've had three Saints, two that we had walked every day in this same rural neighborhood. Even the yippiest, most aggressive little dogs couldn't bully them into a fight. Perry, who weighed 165 pounds at his prime, would just look down at the animal, confounded.
So what to do? We were really confused. The day we picked up Daisy, she was staying at a house with not just one other dog, but five Saint Bernards of all ages. But here we had a 31-inch tall, 115-pound unpredictable animal who seemed very unclear on how to interact with other dogs, or perhaps worse.
It seemed like all the little rescue puppies got whisked away before we could act. Guess that's a good thing -- afterall, they all found homes. But then we heard about Daisy. We drove up to Sacramento to see her, and what a beauty! She was really thin and her fur was rough and scraggly, but you could see that she was a great dog and had a sweet personality. She was almost two years old. I was a little worried that she might have hip problems, because she leaned forward all the time and seemed to walk oddly.
That should have been a clue -- but not having to do with her health. Turns out that Daisy was in her natural stance at the time. That is, poised to run.
We were told that her previous owners had left her at the shelter because she had run away from home so many times. Why? Nobody knew. And nobody knew exactly where she had lived -- "somewhere in the Valley" -- or what animal shelter, or what kind of family. All they could tell us was that she was good with kids. They had taken her to the local McDonald's as a test, apparently.
Anyway, the day after we got home we realized we had a spring-loaded, very athletic dog on our hands. First she ran up and down the fenceline, looking for a way to jump over. Then we left her for a half hour alone in the house and she punched her way through the screen and jumped out the window. Tom chased her all the way down to the beach, where she seemed surprised at his concern.
That could all be explained by the history of running away. But when we took her on her first walk. The first two dogs she met growled at her and one bit. The third dog she saw, she took the initiative and scared the little black lab into screeching flight. "So that's why someone dumped that beautiful dog," its owner said knowingly. I was mortified. We've had three Saints, two that we had walked every day in this same rural neighborhood. Even the yippiest, most aggressive little dogs couldn't bully them into a fight. Perry, who weighed 165 pounds at his prime, would just look down at the animal, confounded.
So what to do? We were really confused. The day we picked up Daisy, she was staying at a house with not just one other dog, but five Saint Bernards of all ages. But here we had a 31-inch tall, 115-pound unpredictable animal who seemed very unclear on how to interact with other dogs, or perhaps worse.
Amanita
You know, I'm not sure anyone will be able to see that miniscule orange dot up under the trees. So here's a close-up of that Amanita muscaria. I managed to take this while Miss Daisy was obediently sitting and waiting nearby. Wow - we've had quite a show in-between all these rains lately. All sorts of varities pop up each day, which makes for very entertaining and educational walks. Oops, sorry, this isn't a mushroom blog....
Paying close attention to Sally, or "Still Life with Mushrooms"
As further proof of how innocent she can look, Daisy was being really good before her recent misadventure with the geese. Who would have thought that the next minute, she might be airborne, bolting after the scent of strange animals somewhere up the old road? To Daisy, the lure of alien animal scents is overwhelming. Of course, you can easily see why we were distracted -- check out the size of those Agaricus liliceps (or maybe mutant milk caps, how would I know?). The fake-looking red one with the white polkadots back under the trees is, in fact, Amanita muscaria. Or, as I like to call it, Psychedelic Cartoon 'Shroom.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Not-So-Wild Goose Chase
Yup, Sally, it’s about time I told the story. The other morning, as you were doing sit-stays with our girl, I was cozying up to a mushroom for a close up shot with our new camera. Then I looked up and saw Daisy galloping up the hill, away from us and toward old San Pedro Road. She’d caught a scent that made her want to run to investigate. When we both realized pretty damn quick that we’d never be able to grab her before she hit terminal velocity, you set out for home to get the car to do a neighborhood search. I set out in the other direction after Daisy in hopes that I’d find her nearby. Daisy has caught us by surprise a couple of times before. Once she runs off in a panic, she is completely ruled by her extreme sense of smell. There’s an Oprah show for you – “Dogs who follow their noses into trouble and the humans who chase them.”
So I sprinted up the road, trying not to think the worst. Keep my cool, don’t let her see me running after her. Our friend Martina the dog trainer always warns, never chase your dog. Run in the opposite direction and make them follow you! Right.
I ran up the road, past the last house before the beginning of the park. The family that lives there has quite a menagerie on their acre of land: horses, peacocks and a gaggle of honking geese. I didn't detect any unusual commotion, just the usual peacock shriek or goose honk. Nothing out of the ordinary, though. That’s what you always hear there. So I kept walking, one block, two. Around a bend. Then I look ahead and start to worry. If she had already galloped into the neighborhood, she could be getting into all sorts of trouble. I prayed that she wouldn’t encounter any aggressive dogs who considered her suspicious or threatening.
Then I heard something behind me. The geese were honking louder. I turned and saw Daisy BEHIND me! I crouched down and called her in my most yippee-fun-come-Daisy voice. I didn’t want her to think that she was in trouble or that I was the least bit worried. She saw me and trotted over, all wags and wanting some attention. She was glad to see me. She had no idea how glad I was to see her! Fortunately, the honking geese engaged her long enough to keep her from racing off to who-knows-where.
I headed for home with Daisy in tow, hoping that we might intercept Sally in the car, unless she was already in some far corner of Montara. Twenty minutes later, we were home. We settled down and I looked to see if Sally had taken the cell phone with her. She hadn’t. I wanted to spare her the anxiety of a protracted search. So I just stayed put. She got back in half an hour, much relieved to see that we had made it back safely. Daisy hadn’t gotten into trouble and I hadn’t had a stroke sprinting after her.
It was just another beautiful morning walk in Montara.
So I sprinted up the road, trying not to think the worst. Keep my cool, don’t let her see me running after her. Our friend Martina the dog trainer always warns, never chase your dog. Run in the opposite direction and make them follow you! Right.
I ran up the road, past the last house before the beginning of the park. The family that lives there has quite a menagerie on their acre of land: horses, peacocks and a gaggle of honking geese. I didn't detect any unusual commotion, just the usual peacock shriek or goose honk. Nothing out of the ordinary, though. That’s what you always hear there. So I kept walking, one block, two. Around a bend. Then I look ahead and start to worry. If she had already galloped into the neighborhood, she could be getting into all sorts of trouble. I prayed that she wouldn’t encounter any aggressive dogs who considered her suspicious or threatening.
Then I heard something behind me. The geese were honking louder. I turned and saw Daisy BEHIND me! I crouched down and called her in my most yippee-fun-come-Daisy voice. I didn’t want her to think that she was in trouble or that I was the least bit worried. She saw me and trotted over, all wags and wanting some attention. She was glad to see me. She had no idea how glad I was to see her! Fortunately, the honking geese engaged her long enough to keep her from racing off to who-knows-where.
I headed for home with Daisy in tow, hoping that we might intercept Sally in the car, unless she was already in some far corner of Montara. Twenty minutes later, we were home. We settled down and I looked to see if Sally had taken the cell phone with her. She hadn’t. I wanted to spare her the anxiety of a protracted search. So I just stayed put. She got back in half an hour, much relieved to see that we had made it back safely. Daisy hadn’t gotten into trouble and I hadn’t had a stroke sprinting after her.
It was just another beautiful morning walk in Montara.
Friday, January 20, 2006
Wild goose chase
Tom, aren't you going to tell them about Daisy's wild goose chase this morning? I admit, I'm the one who started it all. While you were busy doing nature photography, I thought we wouldn't waste a minute by practicing some of our obedience exercises. But the "sit-stay" lasted only half a second. There were distractions just up the road....
Monday, January 16, 2006
Daisy poses in her new home last spring (2005)
When we adopted Daisy in March, 2005, she'd been living with a foster family in
When you adopt a dog under these circumstances, it requires a leap of faith. The rescue organization certifies that the animal is neutered and up to date with shots. But the descriptions of the dogs on the website may be a stretch. Take Daisy's: "She is a very sweet girl and it appears she gets along with strange dogs and cats."
Yes, she is a sweet, affectionate dog who is happiest when she's curled up on your lap. I'm not complaining, mind you. But you do need a large lap to accommodate this cuddlesome, 125-pound baby.
Strange dogs are another matter. We soon learned after bringing her home that she descends into panic around other dogs. In fact, she can spot (and worry about) other animals even when they are mere dots on the horizon. We work with her every day and take her to weekly socialization training classes every Saturday to help her overcome her fear. She's come a long way, but still needs a lot of training. We'll be sharing her progress with you as we go.
Life with Daisy
Better late than never. We've had Daisy, our Saint Bernard rescue dog, since last March (2005). We'll fill in the back story as we go. But for now, here's where the story begins: in the middle.
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