Puppy-less puppy-fixes

I am Future Leader Dog puppy-less.

FLD Dutch and I pose at the entrance to the Leader Dogs for the Blind kennel on return day.

Dutch in the intake room.

 

Evenings around here are calmer now that FLD Dutch is on his way. He went back to Leader Dogs for the Blind on November 11 to begin his formal training. 

Dutch's new tag sporting his "dog" number.

When there is a puppy underfoot, I forget how easy it is to care for my older dogs. CC'd Gus is a professional couch potato. Except when he gets the rips.

Last night, when I went out to stoke the fire before bed, was the first time since Dutch left that Gus zoomed around the yard. Even old Gypsy got into the game a bit, barking and snarling as he kicked up leaves on tight turns around her.

On his return, Dutch bounced away just like all my other puppies. Now the wait begins.

Leader Dog in-training Dutch relaxes while I finish up some paperwork. 

Luckily, I have other opportunities to get my puppy-fix.

PUPPIES!

My friends, Phyllis and Dick, home Leader Dog mom Amber. On November 2, Amber delivered her fourth litter - nine black puppies. I got to serve as "mid-wife" to the Lab/Golden mix pups.

Three boys and six girls. They are two weeks old now, eyes opening and they are pushing up on all fours.

One Amber-puppy, just opening his eyes at two-weeks of age.

PRISON PUPPY-RAISING PROGRAM

Last August,  Leader Dogs for the Blind coordinated a puppy-raising program at the Chippewa Correctional Facility in Kincheloe, Michigan in the Upper Peninsula (UP). My puppy counselor, Tammy, will also be puppy counselor for the prison raisers. And I get to help!

The Chippewa puppy-raisers in August 2013 with their four puppies and FLD Dutch and FLD Harper.

We take monthly trips to the UP to help the prison-raisers and to take the puppies out on "furlough." There are now six puppies at Chippewa, so this can be a challenge. Fortunately, there are past and present puppy-raisers in the UP who have offered to help. While the prison puppies are exposed to many different distractions at Chippewa, there are a few things which they need to experience that they can't get in prison. For instance, traffic and a variety of people, like kids and women.

This week, Tammy and I are traveling to the prison with Deb, the Puppy Development supervisor at Leader Dogs. After our work at Chippewa, we head to the west side of the UP to the town of Baraga. A prison there wants to start a puppy-raising program too. I will be taking a Chippewa puppy with me to check them out.

Keep posted as I continue with updates on the Michigan prison-puppy raising program....and updates on Dutch's progress at Leader Dogs!

(An inside source told me that Dutch has passed his physicals!)

Inadvertencies

Four days ago, I left my back door on cross-country skis. A freak spring storm dropped four inches of sleet-sugar snow and I was not going to miss an opportunity. The trails through our 13 acres led me to the Rifle River Recreation Area and thousands more acres of wilderness.

I took cc'd (career-changed) Gus along. 

Gus approaches like he wants to herd me back onto my skis. I had taken them off so I could shoot a photo.

As young, strong and exuberant as Gus is, after an hour and a half I decided to turn toward home--no way was I going to be able to carry his 70 pounds back if he crapped out on me. Never mind what would happen if I crapped out on him!

It was a good choice. The last half-mile was a put-your-head-down-and-slide-one-ski-ahead-of-the-other slog back to the house. But we lived to tell about our wonderful last ski of the 2012/2013 winter.

Today

Yesterday's rain (and today's sun) is making the snow sigh like the wicked witch of the west, "I'm melting, melting! Oh what a life!"

I headed out my back door again, this time clad in hiking boots, not skis, this time with all three dogs. What a joyous, muddy, snowmelt mess! Water ran downhill like miniature waterfalls and filled the hollows into pools.

Dutch's pawprint in the last of the snow along the trail.

"Come on, keep up!" Dutch seemed to say as he looks back at me at the beginning of our hike.

Grousehaven Lake was still frozen over, but open water kissed the shoreline around Grebe Lake. I thought to take some pictures from the iced-in fishing dock on Grebe, which was accessible by a long pier.

The fishing dock on Grebe Lake.

Gypsy and Gus raced ahead. Dutch followed, attached to my waist by a long green lead.

KER PLUNK!

Just a few yards onto the pier, Dutch stepped off into open water; it was deep enough that he went all the way under. His head broke the surface like Shamu-the-whale, his front paws slapped the water like the fins of a circus seal. I guided him toward shore with the lead. He didn't have to swim much before his back paws touched bottom--he bounded onto dry land and shook himself silly.

"What happened?"

 SHAKE, RATTLE AND ROLL!

Dutch's first swim!

Toward the end of our hike, Dutch looks back at me. What do you suppose he is thinking?

What do you think they want?

Herding with their eyes.

Guess it's time to get off of the computer and take the dogs out into the woods...

Anybody's guess

Andy says, "Dutch is going to make it."

             (He means as a working Leader Dog.)

How do you know? I ask.

"Because if he can stand up to Gypsy, he'll be just fine."

With every new puppy, my crabby old mutt Gypsy makes sure everyone knows who's boss. Lip curled, her worn-down teeth bared, she snarls and growls. This usually causes a new puppy to keep a wide berth.

Not Dutch.

FLD Dutch considers Gypsy's threat.

From a safe distance, he give her a Golden warble back.

Another Gypsy-under-her-breath-snarl and Dutch decides to hightail it out of there!

After a couple of weeks, a growing-bolder Dutch ignores Gypsy's warning to "leave Andy's shoes alone!"

Last night Dutch was curled up tight in a ball, his back tucked against the blue dog bed under Andy's desk.

Gypsy was in it.

And she wasn't snarling.

      (You'll have to take my word on this. When I went for my camera, they both got up and moved apart.)

Gypsy looks at me as if to say, "What's with this pup?"

Dutch sings another Golden tune and works his charms on the old girl.

Introducing....FLD Dutch!

Andy and I couldn't wait to get back to the north woods. Coming home, even after a fun-filled trip with family, is like a batch of warm chocolate chip cookies just out of the oven. By the enthusiastic leap into the van when we picked up Gypsy and Gus from my sister's, I think they felt the same way. (Thank you girls, for watching them for us!)

For one of us though, coming "home" was a totally new experience.

Future Leader Dog Dutch!

FLD Dutch wasn't sure about his two new furry buddies--Gus, who bowled him over in greeting, and Gypsy, who snarled at us as much as to the little guy. Not another one!

Before we passed Flint on I-75 N, Dutch was fast asleep, cuddled in my arms. The ride home on pick-up day is the only time I indulge; soon enough he'll learn to curl up at my feet on the passenger floorboard.

Dutch is the fifth puppy I am raising for Leader Dogs for the Blind, but my first Golder Retriever. He is eight weeks old today and weighs in at a hefty 12.8 lbs!

Dutch's first puppy-breath kiss!

So far, FLD Dutch seems to be a content and confident puppy. His breeding host family and LD volunteers have done a tremendous job helping him to realize that "SIT" gets you just about anything--pets, praise, treats, and sometimes dinner!

Gusto-Gus learns "gentle" with our new boarder, and is proving to be very generous. Here he is with a toy he brought for Dutch; when we went outside to "park" and check the furnace, Gus carried a log out of the woodshed and dropped it near him. Nice, Gus, but we don't need another dog emptying the woodshed!

Gypsy, on the other hand, created a different reaction from Dutch. When he approached her as she played with a toy, she gave a deep-throated growl. He hightailed it into his little crate. Smart puppy!

It doesn't take much to tire out a young pup. Dutch shows his preference for the soft-life.

We're in for a fun ride!

Labrador vultures

The pecking order seems to be changing around here.

At mealtime, the two black dogs squeeze their cute little butts onto a single mat against the wall. FLD Scout doesn't even need to be told. Gus waits for eye contact before he swings into a sit.

The old crabby brown dog wanders around until I insist that yes, she must sit too.

Gypsy is first to be fed. There is some respect for seniority. But lately she is slow to approach her bowl of old-dog food moistened with a bit of water. She seems to want to defer to the younger, bolder Scout.

Gus is released next. OK. He bounds to his bowl across the room like an Olympic 100-meter man and begins to scarf.

Scout crouches in anticipation, one front paw lifted slightly off the floor. When I look at her, she dips her head in preparation. I pause. She settles back.

OK. She's learned to time her landing without body-slamming the wall. Before Gus has a chance to sanitize his stainless steel bowl, Scout inhales her last morsel and twirls. In a flurry of Lab hair, her butt is back on the mat. Gus touches the mat a millisecond later.

The two know that a small encore helping is on the way. Anything to slow the gorging.

A second heat ensues.

By this time, Gypsy is sniffing her kibble, casting a wary glance at the Labrador frenzy beside her. Gus takes a sentry position behind her and Scout tip-toes in from the side. Her eyes are glued to Gypsy's bowl as if she could make the bits levitate to her mouth. It is only then that Gypsy takes a nibble.

I wonder. Is this how a just-struck critter on the side of the road feels when a kettle* of turkey vultures circle overhead waiting for a last breath?

The specter keeps Gypsy focused on eating. She chews daintily, like a proper matron.

Torturing the Labrador vultures.

*A group of turkey vultures circling overhead is called a "kettle."