Laughing Wolf

Monday, March 03, 2008

The Great Stoned Jenny…

WIth thunderstorms predicted for today, I’m trying something new to help her with her dislike (severe understatement) of loud booms.  So, after talking with her doctor, I hit her with a dose of melatonin (sp?) this morning.  I wrapped the capsule in some cheese, and was amazed when she actually chewed some, clearly cracking the capsule.  She ate it though. 

I would love to know how fast that stuff acts, for a few minutes later I took her out to put her on her (repaired) lead system.  She normally is very good about it, but today got very interested in her treat.  So much so, she went back, and back, and back, and eventually over onto her back (fall down, go boom!).  I did get the lead on her, and gave her the treat, but that was quick—and funny.

LW

Saturday, March 01, 2008

Think I’m Happier Not Knowing

There are days when I honestly believe that I am far better off not knowing what goes on at the lair when I am gone. 

I had to go run a few errands around lunch time, and per usual hooked Jenny up to her lead system before I left.  When I got back, Jenny was on the porch, and then rapidly down to the fence and gate.  Excited.  Extremely excited and talkative, to the point I was concerned she might just figure out she can go over said fence and gate.  My first thought that someone had let her off the lead was dashed when I saw it still clipped to her collar. 

Well, rather, part of it was there.  It looks like she somehow managed to snap what was supposed to be aircraft rated steel cable a couple of feet up.  No signs of gnawing or such, just a good snap that may have been building for some time judging from the coloration. 

Looks like my plans for a quiet afternoon are going to have to be put on hold for a quick trip to the hardware store for repair items…

I knew I shouldn’t have gotten her the home metalworking kit…

LW

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Correcting A Mistake

In life, we all make mistakes.  The mark of a Man, male or female, is what one does after the mistake. 

The last few weeks since my return have been stressful, hectic—frenetic even—and demanding.  There is more to come, and to those in Easy Company as well as the 1st of the 4th Marines, your stories are coming.  Suffice it to say that had I known half of what awaited, I would have stayed in Iraq (didn’t want to leave, but that is another post) even had it meant taking a job cleaning out port-a-potties by hand.  I have made mistakes, or have discovered past mistakes, in regards people, places, and things. 

One mistake, made for all the right reasons and with the best of intentions (yes, the road to Hell surely is paved with them), has been corrected. 

Jenny is home. 

LW

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Jenny’s Choice

When I was preparing to go on the embed, the one thing I did not have to worry about was Jenny.  Monty Sloan, the nature photographer, stepped up and offered immediately to keep her.  Most canids seem to regard Monty as a deity, and he can do things to and with them that would get anyone else severely hurt.  Canids fawn over him, and seem to delight in having him work with them—and Jenny had already benefited from his willingness to teach and train.  Alicia, who shares the house with him, was a little less enthusiastic, but I also knew that she liked Jenny and had faith that Jenny would charm her.  It also didn’t hurt that Alicia is not what I would call a slouch when it comes to working with animals either. 

I’m not implying that Jenny was socially inept with other canids; nor do I hint that she needed some work in regards people either—I’m flat out stating it.  I don’t know for sure what life she had before she was tossed out the car, but from watching and studying her body language and behaviors, it was what I would think was lacking.  She is a compulsive kisser-upper, her minding behaviors have interesting gaps, throwing motions make her tuck and cringe, and getting in the car brought about what I will simply term extreme reluctance behaviors. 

Over this last year, primarily with Monty, the social issues with canids and some of the other behaviors (or lack thereof) have been worked.  Using suggestions from Monty and Pat, I worked on other things at home, with some positive results.  One thing I decided early on was to take her in the car just on random errands, so that she would eventually realize that car trips didn’t mean getting tossed out, taken to the vet, or—worse yet from her viewpoint—the groomers (ICK!). 

Jenny did adapt, and got where she loved to do certain things very much.  Despite her previous life and some diffidence in displaying some emotions/behaviors, she also was quite willing to show certain things.  Some of our earliest trips together, especially to the vet and groomers, resulted in her pointedly sitting in the passenger seat with her back to me, positively radiating waves of “I am NOT! happy with you!”

One other area where she didn’t hesitate to show how she felt was when it came to leaving somewhere.  When it came to the vet and groomers, not even reinforced pressure-formed ferroconcrete could stand up to her.  She had a range of behaviors, major and minor, that clearly indicated when she wanted to leave somewhere.  From greeting, to response to the leash, they were clear as if sending up flares.  Once displayed, that was the final word.  I still laugh at the night when I went to pick her up from spending the day out with her boyfriend at Monty’s, and said boyfriend threw himself down in front of the front door in an effort to prevent her leaving (I should mention that Jenny is roughly 35 lbs and Chumley is roughly 125 lbs), and Jenny walked right over him with almost disdain as he had failed to keep the door from opening. 

When I returned from Iraq earlier this week, I had asked Monty if Jenny could stay until the weekend as there were a number of things I needed to do (including rest a bit).  It wasn’t a problem, so we waited.  I knew Jenny had charmed them, and that things were going extremely well on several fronts for her and them. 

I went out yesterday, and went in to see Jenny.  She was happy to see me, but not her usual frantic “"get me out of here” mode.  She loved on me a bit, but not heavily.  Most importantly, she displayed none of her major ready-to-leave behaviors, and only one minor one—and that for a very brief time. 

Yes, dogs can’t really understand questions and such, but I talked anyway.  I told her that the choice was hers, and that it would be respected.  I asked her what she wanted to do in as neutral a voice as I could manage, and after a moment she went and beat up on Chumley.  The humans talked a bit, the dogs visited us and talked amongst themselves.  I watched and observed her body language and behaviors.  The dogs went into Monty’s room, and when Monty left soon after to go do Howl Night at Wolf Park, I too left and left Jenny to her new home.

There, she has two other dogs with whom to play and socialize, and two full-time humans who will love on her and give her attention when she wants and needs it.  That house is also social central for much of the Wolf Park crowd, which means she will have a lot of interaction with other people and other animals (not just canids).  The part of me that loves her and only wants the best for her is happy.  That part knows that I can visit anytime and that she will remain a part of my life.

But I would be lying if I didn’t say that for the rest of me, it hurts. 

LW

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Expressing Displeasure

No, not me—Jenny.  She has some interesting ways about her, including how she displays her displeasure with various things and situations.  Take, for example, how she deals with going to the groomers. 

Not a spa girl is my Jenny.  Much more the tomboy, she does not care for her visits to the groomers.  Things are better now, but at the start taking her to the groomer or the vet (about the same in her mind) resulted in her sitting in the passeger seat with her back very pointededly towards me, with “I am not happy with you” positively radiating from her. 

She hasn’t done that in a while, but I just took her to the groomers and she did manage to let me know by look and by posture that she was not happy with me on that.  She didn’t turn her back, but instead adopted a long suffering posture and some looks that mixed that “I’m not happy with you” look with pitiful/guilt trip looks.  Am hoping the visit with her boyfriend afterwards (thank Ifni she is spayed!) will help get her over her annoyance. 

LW

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Jenny The Chicken Killer

Well, not quite but… A few days ago, Jenny was acting strangely, or at least stranger than normal.  She had gone out to potty upon getting up, and had not wanted to come back in.  I had noticed some debris on her muzzle, but given that she digs, roots, and otherwise is into dirt and mulch, I hadn’t paid much attention to it. 

Then, completely against type, she wanted to go back out.  Not merely asked, but was dancing in a frenzy to get back out.  Being as how I had an armful of laundry at the time, I decided rather than risk an accident if she wasn’t feeling well to just let her out.  Something told me, however, to just drop the laundry as fast as I could and get outside. 

Upon heading out the back door sans laundry, I saw Jenny jumping and darting at something dark that was standing very still.  So much so that I thought it dead, and wondered if she had gotten a particular neighbor’s cat that would not be terribly missed by me—and how to best to quietly dispose of the remains. 

Headed over while mentally rehearsing my best innocent wolf routine, I realized that it wasn’t a cat as the first quick glance had suggested, but was something avian.  A small buzzard?  As I got closer I realized that it was one of the great neighbor’s young roosters.  [Side note:  my immediate neighbors are broken up as the really good/great neighbors, the good neighbors, the junk neighbors (who don’t actually live there, just leave junk in the yard), and the not-good-at-all neighbors.]

Yet closer examination revealed a very much plucked rooster who was terrified, but still had the sense not to move, a pile of black and white feathers hidden by a jog in the fence, and a somewhat frustrated but very focused (and happy/in-her-element) Jenny. 

First things first, I got Jenny back in the house, though she was very reluctant to go in.  Then, I went back to the chicken who screamed when I tried to pick it up, and moved over to the lee of a fence post still screaming.  At that point I decided that the best thing to do was to go get its “mom” as I figured it might just die of a heart attack if I picked it up.  “Mom” came over, grabbed it, and it screamed again—until it realized it was safe and then it just laid its head on her breast and moaned. 

How the young rooster got out of the coop, over their garden fence, and over my yard fence is a mystery.  I could see it clearing one fence, but not all three.  Sad to say, it died a few days later, apparently being picked on by the other chickens.  My neighbor is not upset with myself or Jenny, but —like me—quite curious about how it got over all three fences. 

As for Jenny, well, she was disappointed to loose her prey but had a great time with it while she had it.  She also seems to be developing a taste for chicken…

LW

Monday, July 23, 2007

Wonder

Recently, I’ve been wondering what was going on with Jenny, what was going through her mind.  Was she okay?  You see, she’s been—for her—very clingy, wanting lots of love, assurance, and contact.  The scent of other dogs and wolves on me appeard to make her concerned, agitated even.  Normally that only happens if the scent happens to be that of her boyfriend.  Her health appears good, so, I wondered. 

This weekend, it hit me.  It’s been just about exactly a year since she came into my life.  A year since she was dumped, tossed out of a car.  It is hard to believe that it has been a year—in some ways, it feels like she has always been a part of my life.  I do wonder if somewhere in the twisty and interesting train of thought that is her mind, if she remembers and worries.  Fears that I will discard her as did those who had her before.  Wish there was a clear and easy way to reassure her that she need not worry.  Meantime, I think a few extra scritches and more contact might be good for both of us. 

LW

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