Leash innovation for emergencies

Yesterday was your blogger Tom's (Rocky Jones) birthday, so we headed down to Monterey, Calif., for a mini-vacation. Or maybe, "mini-long weekend" would be a more appropriate description. Anyway, we left Thursday afternoon after finishing up various chores, packing up all Daisy's things and loading the Mini.

Daisy, with her pre-cooked eggs and rice, brush, breath mints, toenail clippers, alfalfa and supplement mix, blanket, plastic bags, codliver and safflower oil blend, mouth rinse, poultry-flavored tooth paste, tooth brush, biscuits and lint roller, has more in her suitcase than we do. So off we went, delighted to have a couple of days off alongside a different beach than ours . You might wonder why we'd go to another beach, but this one has sun and white sand. Much as we love Montara Beach, change is good.

Oh no! We discovered an hour down the road that Tom, who was in charge of gathering Daisy's things, had forgotten her leash. Poor Tom, he was furious with himself. But there was no going back, and no walking Daisy without a proper leash. While driving along the curvy cliff road and watching the sunset, we considered our options. Finally we decided to check in at the "rustic cabins" where we were staying, then go find a pet store where we could buy both a leash and a Gentle Leader.

But once at the cabins, a remarkable solution presented itself in the form of Tom's extra belt. We wrapped it around the front of her harness and buckled it. Voila! A "handle" for Daisy that fit neatly into the palm of one's hand. We weren't sure it would work, but in fact, this leash was almost as easy to use as the usual contraption. The length was so short and the grip so comfortable, we had a lot of torque. With one light pull, Daisy's front feet were off the ground and she'd have to stop. So if you're ever stuck without a leash, you might try out this invention.

A proper leash

Sheryl Carver is an engineer. Until she discovered her talents with animals, she worked for IBM. So naturally, before anything else she set us up with the proper equipment.

We had been using a Gentle Leader head collar, which is supposed to help you control your dog by gently turning her head and as a consequence, turning her attention and mind in a new direction. But Daisy was not to be swayed so easily. She might turn her head, but she would keep plowing ahead in whatever direction she was going, and you along with her. Worse yet, she would walk very nicely just until you let your guard down.
Then suddenly she would catch the scent of something fascinating. And you would find yourself flying in that direction, too -- that is, if you wanted to keep your arm attached to your body. That girl is strong! She could easily pull a VW Bug, if not a Mini Cooper.


We told Sheryl that we really did not want to be dragged around the hills behind our house anymore. She had a brilliant solution. First, we dug out an old harness occasionally worn by Daisy's predecessor, Perry, who weighed about 170 pounds and wasn't even chubby. This was the type that fits around the chest so you can attach a leash on the back. The harness hadn't helped us manage Perry, so we were doubtful. But Sheryl wasn't finished. We also pulled on a Halti head collar, which hangs more loosely around the nose than the Gentle Leader. We were not much impressed by that either. Perry had never kept one on more than a minute.

But wait, between the two went a leash! Suddenly we had control over a much stronger structure than a line between two points: We were holding a triangle.
So if Daisy started yanking, we could leap out to the side and just hang on. The pressure from two points was simply too much for even Daisy's gargantuan powers and she would stop. One we learned out to manage all that leash, we were set.