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A pocket full of gravy bones

Posted in Dog ponderings, Dogs, tagged , , , , , , , on September 24, 2022| Leave a Comment »

Three months after losing Bear, we’re still coming to terms with this new, ‘dog-free’ life. A few days after he left us, I started jotting down all the things that reminded me of him – and our darling Annie. So here’s my slightly random stream of consciousness as I reflect on life without Bear.

A gravy bone in my dressing gown pocket

The wee stain on the patio

A small poo on the lawn, baked hard in the sun that neither of us wants to remove

A tin of sardines in the cupboard 

Balls. Everywhere. Under sofas, in corners, behind the table leg, hiding in the long grass, in the car, in the bottom of the dog buggy, some even in toy baskets

Tennis balls, squeaky balls, balls with faces, balls found like treasure on walks, (always the best kind), balls that were wrapped in Christmas paper (bet you can’t guess what it is!), rugby balls, squishy ones, tiny ones, big ones

His harness hanging limply on the banister 

Dog beds in the back of the cars

Safety harness still clipped into the seatbelt 

Water bowl and blanket in the boot. Spare tennis ball. Poo bags. So many poo bags. 

The dog room. Can we still call it a dog room? 

Waterproof trousers, his and hers hanging on the hook. Big coats, rain coats, wellies, walking boots, spares. 

Water shoes for paddling in streams and throwing stones for woofing at

Dog walking bags – I never did find the ‘perfect’ one

More poo bags. In every single pocket

Dog coats. Rain coats, warm coats, snuggle you up after a haircut coats, dry you after a swim coats. Knitted, ‘oh doesn’t he look handsome coats’ 

Dog meds. Pills and potions, steroid chart (remember to tick off the day), emergency bum pills (don’t ask), supplements, good oils and joint pills, herbal tonics and first aid stuff

Grooming box for infrequent torture. Tick puller, soft brush, mean, unused comb, buzzy clippers for the boys to share 

Jars full of dog treats. Chewy ones, crunchy ones. 

Dog towels, (we’re down to our last 200)

Duvets and cwtch you up blankies 

Toys by the lorry load. Birthday toys, Christmas presents from Grandma toys, always in twos, one always abandoned by Annie as soon as she left, toys. 

Toys in the mending pile hidden in the wardrobe 

Bear’s toothbrush in the bathroom (are you just eating the toothpaste, Bear? Whatever works)

Lickki mat in the dishwasher. Snuffle mat by the coffee table. Pink paw game by the water bowl. Kong Wobbler in the corner (still has some treats left) 

Blankie on the sofa. Dog step with a non-slip mat (let’s leave it for now)

Baby shampoo in the bathroom for head washing. Paul Mitchel for a bright beard (fat chance) and a sweet smelling bod

White board on the landing to block the stairs, just in case

Beanbag in the lounge, commandeered for morning lounging. Slightly yoghurt stained from a Bear beard

Non slip mats trialling through the house

Beds everywhere. Bear beds. Annie beds. Beds for mornings. Beds for evenings. Beds for car rides. 

The untouched birthday cake in the fridge – 15 today! Hooray! 

Things that feel wrong:

Eating all the toast/bread/rice/veg

Nobody watching you eat 

Peeing alone (that door won’t barge itself open)

No shower monitor waiting patiently in his bed outside the door

Sitting anywhere you like on the sofa (in theory, not yet tested)

Walking (who walks without a dog? Only psychos, right?)

Working (how do you work without an office dog by your desk?)

Talking during the day (who’ll listen to me prattle on now?)

Yoga. I’m alone on the mat with an uninterrupted view of the screen

Getting up in the morning – no wagging tail to welcome the day 

Naps on the sofa. No little head on my feet, no warm furry body curled into the hollow under my chin

Leaving the house – there’s someone missing

Coming home – is this the right house?

Going out without needing to be home. Freedom is over-rated

Being home – why is this house so deathly bloody quiet? 

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Old Man Bear

Posted in Behaviour, Dog ponderings, elderly dogs, tagged , , , , on October 9, 2021| Leave a Comment »

Mini Schnauzer rests his head on the back of a sleeping red fox Labrador.

Yesterday, we took Bear for a blood test. Our sprightly senior, described as ‘fit as a flea’ by the vet at the end of June, seems to have aged before our eyes in the last few months.

He’s drinking a lot, sleeping a lot and, while he’s still playful when the mood catches him, he is, all of a sudden, no longer the Peter Pan dog people mistake for a puppy. I aged about a decade when I lost my mum, and I wonder what impact losing Annie has had on our Little Bear. He loved her from the moment he set eyes on her, even though she was lunging and barking at him like a thing possessed. He won her over in no time, and they were friends for eleven wonderful years, so I can well imagine how he must feel now without her.

I mentioned grief as a possible catalyst for the washing list of ailments we were presenting with, fully expecting the theory to be poo-pooed, but to his credit, the vet said that depression could certainly have played a part. My poor Little Bear.

The good news is that his bloods are no cause for alarm. He’s back for a liver scan next week, as one of his results was slightly elevated, but the vet was clear that he wasn’t expecting to find anything untoward. Once that’s done, we can work on his itchiness and investigate his mysterious leg wound that heals and then reappears.

As to healing his grieving heart? Sadly, I know from experience that that’s not possible. All we can do is try to make sure that his days are filled with as much fun, love and distraction as we can cram into them.

P.S Apologies to subscribers for the random way the gallery of the photographs in my last post appeared in emails. I’ve no idea what WordPress tweaks caused that but I’ll investigate.

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The long goodbye

Posted in Dog ponderings, tagged , , , , , on July 16, 2021| 5 Comments »

Annie

Our darling Annie passed away last Friday after telling us she was finally ready for a new adventure. I still can’t quite believe it. Her absence is deafening.

The strange thing is that we had expected that awful day for so long, that when at last it came, it felt surreal. In January, we called the vet because we thought the changes in her behaviour, random demand barking, nighttime disturbances and wandering, were caused by the pain of her arthritis. The diagnosis of dementia was both a shock, but, strange though it sounds, a relief too, just because it seemed to be the lesser of the two evils when compared to physical pain.

We had expected a rapid decline, but thanks to the addition of a new drug, it didn’t really happen that way. She soon started sleeping through the night again and most of the time seemed to be her usual waggy, happy self. She even started asking for the odd walk, never far, but evidence of an interest in the world that we were always happy to oblige.

Our vet made another house call just three weeks ago, and we heaved a great sigh of relief that she didn’t sit us down for ‘the talk’. We all agreed that so long as she was still pottering around, enjoying her food and cuddles and, most importantly, was as pain free as possible, then nothing needed to change.

The look

People say that they tell you when it’s time. Until last week I might have considered that wishful thinking. The product of the unbearable weight of having to play God. But Annie was always a great communicator.

On Thursday afternoon, as I typed away on my makeshift desk in the living room, she fixed me with a look that I couldn’t explain any other way. She didn’t leave her bed again. Refusing all attempts to coax or lift her onto her feet, as if adding a big fat exclamation mark to what she’d just said to me. For that clarity, I will always be thankful.

She passed away peacefully in my arms at 1.30 on Friday afternoon. We brought Bear downstairs to say his goodbyes, but he kept his distance, seeming to sense what had happened but not wanting to see for himself.

Life after love

After the vet left, Other Half and I busied ourselves washing bedding and picking up the dozens of rugs and mats that gave her safe passage across the laminate floor. Next we rearranged the furniture that had many months ago been consigned to corners to give her clear routes, then I moved my work things back up to my office. The duvet and pillow left the sofa and went back upstairs. It seemed at once a betrayal and a necessity. I still expect to see her in her bed by the sofa, tail wagging, eyes expectant, and to have left it there empty would have made it so much worse.

I hope that in time I can write more eloquently about our girl how our runaway foster fail changed our lives. For now, I’m just too heart-sore. All I can say is that we were truly blessed to have known and loved her. Life will never be the same, but that’s how life should be after great love, isn’t it? Forever changed by the force of it. Rest well, my darling girl. Until the next time. ❤️❤️❤️

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Get a grip, you’re upsetting the dog 

Posted in Dog ponderings, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on April 12, 2020| 1 Comment »

Close up shot of Mini Schnauzer Little Bear

I don’t know about you, but the last few weeks have been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.

I’ve been furious, terrified, pragmatic, determined and a complete blubbering mess eating Lotus spread off a spoon and crying onto my keyboard.

There’s no linearity to it, just a tempest of emotion roiling up, having its moment then disappearing again.

The dogs hate it when I cry. Annie pushes her head into my knees and demands cuddles while Little Bear just jumps on me and barks furiously. If I’m sitting down, he barks and whines in my face and licks my nose and cheeks until I get a grip, which of course I do far more quickly than if I’d been permitted to wallow.

While I’d love to think that Bear was trying to make me feel better, it’s more likely that as his primary care-giver, my distress was just making him anxious about his own safety. Either way, I hate upsetting him and so his technique, such that it is, works every time.

Vulnerability 

I’ve written before about how my dogs have kept me sane, but so much of their power is actually in their vulnerability. Our dogs are so totally and utterly dependent on us that, even when the world feels like it’s ending, we have to be there for them physically and emotionally.

In return, they remind us that there is a world beyond ourselves. They ground us in the here and now and most importantly, show us that there is still joy in the world. It’s impossible not to smile watching Little Bear playing football by himself of an evening, or getting ‘toy-giddy’ when I tip a whole basket of teddies on to the floor for him. He met a sweet little terrier on our walk yesterday and, even though they had less than a minute to play together, he ran back to us beaming.

These are scary times, but they’d be an awful lot worse without our dogs at our sides.

However and wherever you are in the world, we’re sending you and your fur babies love, strength and healing thoughts. And of course, Bear sends woofs. xxx 

 

A few of my favourite photos – just because they make me feel better.

 

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Happy Birthday Little Blog

Posted in Dog ponderings, Dog training, Dogs, Uncategorized, tagged , , on February 21, 2020| 1 Comment »

Mini Schnauzer stands with front feet on a table, wearing a party hat and looking at a bone shaped cake

Birthday boy

Ten years ago today The Little Bear Dog Blog was born. It was a cold, wet February afternoon when I set up the WordPress account and in all honesty, I thought I’d probably only post a few times. It was just an experiment and never in a million years did I expect people to actually read my ramblings. But here we are, ten years, 152 posts and thousands of readers later.

Thank you

To everyone who’s read, liked, commented on or shared posts over the years – thank you so much.  Your time is precious and I’m so grateful for the time you took to be a part of our story.

I can’t of course leave out the beautiful little soul who inspired the blog. Had Little Bear been the ‘take anywhere’ dog I’d been expecting, I very much doubt that I would have taken to blogging as a way of processing the realities of life with a reactive dog.

They say that our greatest challenges are our greatest teachers. Little Bear and Annie have certainly been great teachers! But above all, they’ve taught me the power of unconditional, unwavering love. How blessed I’ve been.

I have no idea how many more blog posts we’ll have – time waits for no man, woman or dog, so we’ll take each day as it comes and be grateful for every single one we get to share with them.

“There is nothing truer in this world than the love of a good dog.” Mira Grant 

 

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Brexit – A dog’s tale

Posted in Dog ponderings, Dogs, tagged , , , , , on February 3, 2019| 3 Comments »

 

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‘Wotcha mean they may run out of biscuits?’ 

With just 54 days to Brexit, it’s still hard to believe how we got here. I had to drive to a client meeting on the morning of the referendum result and even though the traffic was much lighter than normal on the M25, everyone seemed to be crawling along as if in a shared daze of disbelief.

 

As John Humphrey wittered away on Radio Four, I mourned the freedom of movement that I’d not yet gotten around to enjoying and the dream of one day retiring to somewhere quaint and arty in Italy.

A dogs dinner 

But what then loomed largest in my mind was the fear of the utter bloody chaos to come. We’ve been braiding ourselves into the fabric of the EU for over forty years; that untangling ourselves without having to get the big scissors out and chop off a few limbs seemed to be a blindingly obvious reason why most people would vote to remain. Oh foolish fool that I am.

The dogs have taken it all in their stride of course. Bear doesn’t care for the heat so never fancied Italy anyway and Annie doesn’t like long car trips, but on the subject of interrupted supply chains they are far more animated.

Pet prepping 

And that’s why our garage is now like a pet shop. It’s also why we’ve got enough of their essential medicines squirrelled away for the next six months too. Next on the list is a nutritional supplement, just in case we have to resort to home cooked food – a contingency measure I dare say they’re crossing their paws for.

They also relaxed a bit more after I mastered a few batches of bake-your-own dog treats, though to be fair, the acceptance bar is pretty low as they even scoffed the ones I nuked to a near crisp.

But I’m not alone in my ‘prepare for the worst and hope for the best’ approach. When I joined the 48% Preppers Facebook group a few weeks ago there were 3,000 members – today there are close to 9,000 and looking after our fur babies if it all goes south is a hot topic.

While our two are somewhat mollified by my preparations, if asked, I’m sure they’d have just one word on the topic – ‘BrexShit’ – and I really couldn’t agree more.

On that note, I’m off to order them some new collar tags

 

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Thanks Growlees for the picture – please look out for my order!   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Comfortably done

Posted in Dog ponderings, Dogs, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on September 4, 2018| 1 Comment »

Annie the Labrador laying on duvet on the floor looking up at her mum

Finally….!

In the on-going conversation between humans and dogs, dogs are by far the better listeners.  If we were measuring it in terms of reading ages, I think they would be on Dostoyevsky and we’d still be on the Ladybird Classics.

I haven’t worked out what I do differently yet, but Bear will start sulking and sitting in the window to keep watch for my return, even before my overnight bag has made it out of the cupboard.

Annie, normally a frenzy of arthritic acrobatics when I so much as look in the direction of their harnesses, doesn’t even stir from her bed on the days when Bear and I are heading out for an extended walk in the woods. When he’s harnessed up and ready to go, she’ll calmly go and sit by the fridge waiting for what we call her ‘consolation carrot’.  How does she know? She reads me like a book.

Are you sitting comfortably? Er, actually no… 

Lately though her communication skills have really ratched up a gear. Other half and I have been trying for months to get her to join us in the living room of an evening. There was a time when evenings meant all four of us squished happily onto the sofa, but since her arthritis has started bothering her, Annie will no longer jump up and won’t settle even if we lift her on and off.

There’s no denying that she loves her crate with its three super-soft crate pads and the thick duvet that make up her bed, but her crate is in the dog room and we of course, want her with us.

We tried moving the spare crate into the living room but she wouldn’t settle so after a fortnight of it gathering dust, it went back to the garage. I bought her a new memory foam Orvis bed, which after a week of her flatly refusing to even put a paw on it, I reluctantly returned. I even bought her a second fabric day bed which is almost exactly the same as the one that she still uses, just not as squished and flattened – but this too was found wanting.  And yes, we’ve tried just shutting the door but that just gets us woofed at until we relent.

Breakthrough

I don’t know what made me think of it, but a few weeks ago her duvet was hanging over the living room door drying after a wash. I folded it double and put it on the floor in front of the sofa and her eyes lit up. She hurried over, turned around twice and plonked herself down. She glanced up at me and if she could speak, I swear she would have said, ‘Finally!’ She lay down and went to sleep and she’s been curled up on her duvet in the living room every evening since.

Her communication skills don’t stop there though. Last night, I forgot to put her duvet back in her crate at bedtime.  As I was about to head up the stairs she stalked out of the dog room, stood on the duvet in the living room, wagged at me and nosed the duvet. Good slave that I am, I returned it to her crate while she watched, only for her to barge me out of theway the second I was done and settle in for the night.  Who says that dogs can’t talk? Or that humans can’t (eventually) learn to listen?

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Dog seeks human: Must love mud

Posted in Dog ponderings, tagged , , , , , , on January 24, 2014| 11 Comments »

Like most aspiring dog owners, before I actually had a dog I used to indulge in the odd reverie about our wonderful future life together.  I had visions of us playing catch in a sun drenched meadow on a warm August afternoon.  I imagined us kicking up a pile of crisp autumn leaves and leaving cute paw and foot prints in the winter snow before heading home to snuggle on the sofa.  

Having grown up with a Springer Spaniel, I wasn’t entirely naive, but I suppose part of me choose to block out one of the not so welcome seasonal realities: Mud.

So long nice clean car

So long nice clean car

Mud magnets

If you’ve not got a dog and you’re thinking about getting one, please, hear me now:  They will get muddy. You will get mud: in your house; in your car; on your clothes and more often than you’ll care to think about, on your face and in your hair.  

You will have an almost daily routine of wiping mud off the walls, radiators and any small children who may happen to walk past. Your pile of dog towels will quickly outweigh the human ones, your washing machine will work overtime and in the winter months, you’ll start grading your walks not on how enjoyable they are, but on how muddy its likely to be. 

Paddling Bear

Paddling Bear

 

 

Who chose the cream tiles?

Our battles with mud are exacerbated by some pretty unpractical home decorating choices.  In answer to the question ‘Which idiot chose cream floor tiles, white walls and a light beige sofa?’ I have to foolishly raise my hand.

In my (feeble) defence, I made those choices when we only had Little Bear and as much as he loves paddling in puddles and rolling in cow pats, he’s not a big fan of deep mud. But then of course, we got a Labrador. 

 

 

 

Annie the Labrador covered in mud

Annie the Labrapotomous

Labrapotomous

Annie is a mud magnet.  She’s the Labrapotomous of the dog world and loves nothing better than getting caked in the stuff from nose to tail.  In the Forest she’ll find the deepest, dirtiest, stinkiest puddle and fling herself into it with the wild abandon of a lemming on a cliff top. She emerges beaming as if she’s just won the lottery and annoying as it is, we don’t have the heart to stop her fun.  But even on a road walk, she has an amazing ability to attract mud and will invariably return home with dirty paws, legs and tummy. 

Adjustments

We’ve made some practical adjustments at home, including installing a new door to give us direct access to the garage from the house.  This means we can bring the dogs in through the garage, avoiding the daily splattering of mud up the walls of the hallway.  It also gives us more room to do the towelling off.

I’d be lying if I said that dealing with constantly filthy dogs is much fun. But here’s the rub: when we took on our dogs it was to give them the life they deserved. And we made that commitment for life. We knew there would be compromises along the way and a pristine home is just one of them. What we get in return though far outweighs the inconvenience and of course, we still have those sunny August afternoons to look forward to.

 

 

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How Bear learned to love bath time

Posted in Dog ponderings, tagged , , , , on December 31, 2013| 4 Comments »

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Little Bear hates having a bath. He’s not unusual as I suspect most dogs dislike our penchant for making them sit in warm water while shampooing away all those delightful doggie aromas: mud, stinky puddle water, poop (LB loves the fox variety but will settle for cow pats at a push) and his particular favourite, dead stuff. The day he rolled in a long dead rat is still chillingly fresh in my memory as is the sight of him swaggering home, proud as punch not realising that six baths would be necessary to rid him of the stench.

Bath time blues
Little Bear is now six so I’d sort of resigned myself to the fact that bath time would always be a necessary evil where he turned on the puppy dog eyes with the occasional shiver for good measure and I ended up feeling guilty.

Positive reinforcement
As a big fan of positive reinforcement I’ve tried using toys and treats over the years but he largely ignored the toys and took the treats with a reproachful ‘this isn’t working you know’ glare.
So imagine my surprise when yesterday, LB jumped into the bath on his own!

Bath time Bear
We’d been out for a long forest walk and he was really muddy. But as he’d only had a bath last week I decided to let the mud dry and brush it out. Bear though had other ideas.

While I was hanging up the towels in the bathroom he trotted in, rested his nose on the bath and wagged. Then came the cute over the shoulder look to see if I was looking and another wag. I quietly closed the door, usually a cue for him to dart out of the room, but he just stood there wagging at me.

Now LB loves chasing stones in the ford and over the summer he’s been playing in a paddling pool my mum found for him. He’s so obsessed with the stones I’ve got a handful in a jug in the bathroom in an attempt to make the dreaded bath time more bearable.

I picked up the jug and before I could do anything he had jumped into the bath! What’s more he was wagging fit to bust!

Needless to say he got his bath but not until we’d played stones for a long time – it seemed only fair after he’d asked so nicely!

Lessons learned
Yesterday reminded me of an incredibly valuable lesson: never underestimate the power of a positive reinforcer – they work, but they’re often not the things we think they are.

(Please excuse any formatting issues, I’ve had to write this on my iPhone as he’s fast asleep on my lap and looking way too cute to disturb!)

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Thunderbolt & lightening, very very frightening…

Posted in Behaviour, Dog ponderings, Dog training, Dogs on July 23, 2013| 1 Comment »

This is Little Bear hiding under my desk thanks to a raging summer storm. He’s a shaking, panting ball of stress & the worst thing is there’s not much I can do to help him.

He’s had some KalmAid and I’ve done some T-Touch but now all we can do is ride it out until the storm passes.

Old School
When he was a puppy the old trainer told me to ignore “such silly behaviour” (her words not mine) to avoid reinforcing it. This may work for jumping up, but the idea that ignoring an animal in obvious distress would somehow help them deal with their fear is not just unkind it’s misguided.

LB is in no state to think or learn as he quivers and shakes under my desk at the loud claps of thunder that to a dogs sensitive ears must be unbearable. So the only learning he’ll be doing today is that there’s a safe and comforting lap when he needs one, legs to hide behind and soft words to do what little they can to reassure him.

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