Our little boy is growing up

Since our boy isn't a 'pure breed' dog, there is no documentation as to when, exactly, he arrived on this planet. When we adopted him from the shelter, the shelter lady had his date of birth listed as February 25th. When we asked her if that was true, she said there was no way to know, but that it was also George Harrison's birthday. So why not! In honor of the fifth birthday of the most challenging dog I know, here are some of my favorite pictures:

Kevin and Albie on their first day

"What you lookin' at?"

His tag says, "Dream Dog." <sigh>

My little gentleman

"Are ya gonna throw the ball!?"

He likes to perch things on his paws.

Sweepie boy

He's a rollin' fool.

"Do you see that squirrel?"

And he can make shapes.

In fact, everything he does is unique.

Dig, dig, dig!

So handsome!

The best walkin' dog!

"I vant to be alone."

The happy family

  

We created a monster

Okay, maybe not a monster, but we definitely made Albie a fan of the boob tube. The very first night we brought him home, we happened to watch a movie called Up. For those who haven't seen it, its a wonderful, animated film that features dogs in the story line. Near the end of the movie,  there's a scene with lots of barking and growling and snarling. Our little pup was captivated. He couldn't figure out where the noises were coming from or what all those colors on the screen were. He was mesmerised. Thus began Albie's fascination with the television.  It's actually grown over the years, but I don't want you to think that all we do with our dog is sit around and watch TV. We're actually quite fortunate to have a very active dog who keeps us on our toes. But during down time, while we sat around watching TV, we soon realized that certain commercials made him rush to the screen in anticipation. The first commercial we noticed that did this was for a horse track. Initially it was their ads promoting the dachshund races. Albie would rush up to the screen to watch the dogs run around the track. Soon after, he began to recognize their theme music, the traditional tune that starts every horse race. As soon as it began, he knew to run to the TV. Eventually, we moved from that area and no longer saw that commercial. It wasn't long before he recognized a new theme to a local mattress company, whose mascot was an adorable Old English bulldog. He can be lounging in the bedroom, but if that song comes on he knows that dog going is to be there and here he comes running from the other room. During the last baseball post season, a beer company was running an ad about a man and his dog. At one point, the man leaves the dog alone at home. The dog sits up all night long, fretting over where his friend is and when he'll come home. It didn't take long for Albie to join in, sitting in front of the screen and whining with the onscreen pooch. He never did catch on that the guy always made it home. 

Not everything on TV is Albie-approved. He has a fear of bugs, specifically flies. We think it began when he was a puppy, abandoned at the laundromat. It is such an intense fear that he just has to hear the 'buzz' and he's gone, hiding in his crate. Unfortunately for him, we are fans of the zombie TV show, The Walking Dead. Every episode is full of both dead people and flies. Albie is not a fan. He also doesn't enjoy the numerous wildlife shows we watch. Only the ones about ocean life are ok with him. 

 I know that there are actual cable networks whose programming is devoted to entertaining dogs. I've seen one such program. It was a bunch of colors swirling on the screen with strange noises and music playing. I'm sure I could be wrong, but I just don't think they would work in entertaining my dog. His tastes lean toward the more thought provoking, or at least that is what I like to believe. 

Recently, we have taken to spending Saturday and Sunday mornings watching Albie's TV shows. He has two that he really likes. Dogs with Jobs is a show we found streaming on Netflix. Every episode features two dogs and the special tasks they've been trained to perform. Of course Albie's favorites are the dogs who work on ranches, as long as there are no bugs. Another favorite is Dogs 101. It features several breeds each episode. He particularly enjoys the puppies. Last night, he suffered (along with us) through the Super Bowl, so we rewarded him by watching the Puppy Bowl for a bit. He really enjoyed it and I definitely liked it more than football.

Do Kevin and I regret introducing him to television? Not at all. We are so thrilled to be able to share so many things with our dog. TV is but one small thing among many. In the end, we all get a ton of joy out of the small screen.

Who really is the difficult one?

My life with Albie has been a challenge in so many ways. Not for him, but for me. I have had to learn all about dog behavior. Dogs don't come with instructions and, for most dogs, they don't need any. Humans spent ten thousand years taming and training canines to become their best friend. And virtually every dog owner knows the results of this millennia of hard work. The Ecstatic tail, the hopping and jumping, the overwhelming exuberance when you walk in the door after a long days work. I've known such devotion in the years that I've been fortunate to have a dog as a part of my life. Alas, Albie's greetings leave me wanting. And it isn't his greeting to  anyone, just to me. When he sees Kevin coming home from work,  it's the expected enthusiasm that you always see. Even with our friends, his excitement is barely containable to the point where he can't even control his bladder. I never get that response, ever. Not even when Kevin's been gone for several days. Nope, I'm just greeted with a level of ambivalence and a face that says, 'oh it's just you.' I'm not exaggerating either. I sometimes even get barks with his hackles raised, though that probably happens because he doesn't realize it's me. His hackles usually go down right about the time he sees my face.
None of this is a complete surprise. I knew when we got Albie that he would mostly be Kevin's dog. He goes to work with him virtually every day and spends all day with him, so of course Albie has a stronger connection to Kevin then he does to me. Ironically, I work as a dog walker, so in theory I could take him to work with me everyday. And though I have tried a couple of times, Albie always demands too much of my attention. Unfortunately, this job that I love so much makes my dog's snubs become even more glaring.  Why do all the other dogs, some of whom I only see once or twice a week, become so excited whereas my own dog is quite blase about my entrance?
Just like every other thing with Albie, this was going to take some work. What I realized was I had to make him want to see me.  I had to give him a reason to be excited when I came home and that was really quite easy. Just make sure to take him out and play ball with him everyday. He still doesn't treat me like he does everyone else, but he's definitely happier to see me. I just have to make sure to keep up my side of the bargain and hide my disappointment when he bounces uncontrollably upon seeing our friends. 

But this wasn't the end of my illogical issues with him. For reasons unknown to us, Albie frequently doesn't react in the usual 'dog' way. I've already discussed his dislike of being touched. Albie also can get over-stimulated when he is playing. The best way to describe what happens is to compare him to a cat. It is quite common that cats who are petted for too long will inexplicable lash out at their guardian's hand. If Albie gets too riled up, he will stop playing and start growling. He never has tried to bite either of us, but he sounds ferocious enough that it quickly puts a damper on playtime. Kevin and I both know that this is a possibility; however, sometimes when I'm playing with him, I forget and begin to internalize his emotions. It happened just the other day and I grew angry with him, claiming that he 'hated' me. I know how absurd and anthropomorphic that sounds, but these instances can dredge up old issues I have harbored since childhood. 

Until recently, I thought I was the only person who felt they were a disappointment to their pet. Then I stumbled upon a book called Travels with Casey and was excited to read that the author felt the same way. When he discussed this with his therapist, he learned that he was expecting specific responses from Casey and, when he didn't get them, he was projecting his inefficacy on the dog. A light bulb went off in my head. My age-old worries over whether someone liked me or not were resurfacing in my dog. The reality is Albie frequently doesn't respond in the typical canine way to situations. Because he was obviously taken from his litter too young, he doesn't know how to play; thus, he growls. It has happened often enough that I can predict when it will happen. I've learned so much from Albie, but I still struggle with my own emotions. Unfortunately, I'm on my own with that one. I just have to stop and remind myself that Albie doesn't hate me. He just wants what any dog wants, treats and ball.

Helping Hands

One of the biggest challenges in raising Albie was the realization that he doesn't like to be touched. That's right. Our adorable pooch would rather you didn't pet him, thank you very much. Crazy, I know, but when I told a behaviorist/trainer I know she said it's more common than people think. The manner with which dogs express their discomfort comes in various levels. My mother rescued a chihuahua mix from a hoarding situation who has an intense fear of hands. She wouldn't normally bite, just run from the situation. My mother has earned her trust, therefore her hands are ok. I have spent time there, while visiting, and Sophie has become used to my being around, but I could still sense apprehension. I'm sure, if I were able to spend an extended period of time with her, she would become comfortable with me. I walk a few dogs who dodge away from my hand when I try to pet them. They would never bite, but prefer that I not touch them. It's weird to experience when compared to the typical, loyal pup.
But my dog is anything but 'typical'. When my partner or I tried to pet him, he growled. Always. It was disheartening the first time this behavior exhibited itself. I was so sad that I couldn't touch my dog without hearing that horrible rumble echo in his throat. I began to look for answers to why this had happened. I finally found a potential explanation in one of the many books about dog behavior I have read. When raising puppies, it is important to begin picking them up when they are five weeks old. Although dogs are domesticated, they need to become used to human touch. When Albie was found, they estimated he was no older than six weeks. I don't think he had been abused before then because he never really flinched in fear when we reached out to him. It was obvious that he just didn't know what hands were for and why we wanted to touch him.
My strategy was simple, keep trying. It began with me putting my hand out every time he walked by, letting it brush along his side. I continued trying to pet him. I even went so far as to explain that hands were good, using a quiet, soothing tone of voice. Hands gave him treats. They threw the ball. I'm sure many think I'm crazy for talking to him as if he knew what I was saying, but I like to think that he can comprehend what I'm telling him. It didn't happen overnight, but after four long years of consistent coddling I witnessed definite progress. Previously, if I gestured for him to come to me, he would emit a low growl. Now he will come over and actually lean against me while I scratch his back. He even comes over when I don't cajole him. People have always wanted to pet him and we would always be hesitant to allow it because he would frequently snarl at their hands. It was never a huge one, often so subtle that only we would notice it, but it would happen. Now he is downright friendly to almost anyone, including men with whom he is often leery.
I won't go so far as to announce that he's cured. We took a hike today and had found many ticks crawling on him. When we were in the car ("going somewhere" in his mind) he had no problem with me touching him. An hour ago, I wanted to check to make sure he didn't still have anything crawling on him. If you had heard the growls, you would have thought there was a rabid animal in the house; however, a few minutes ago he walked by me and didn't make a peep when I gave him a hearty pat. It's been a challenge, figuring out such a complex pooch. But I've seen amazing improvements over my years of hard work. I love my flawed dog. I have learned more from him than any other animal I have known, and I am forever grateful he is a part of my life.

Mr Smartie Pups

Over the years, I've been fortunate to know many dogs. Maggie, the Golden Retriever, was sweet and loving and completely devoted. Kiska, the Siberian Husky, was independent and a wonderful listener. Tiki, the teacup poodle, was cuddly and innocent. And Gizmo, the Toy Poodle, was the smartest dog I ever met. Until now. My sweet, flawed dog is truly the smartest dog both me and my boyfriend have ever known.
When we first got Albie, we knew there was a definite possibility he would be intelligent. He is a mixture of several herding breeds and they are some of the smartest of all dogs. Not long after he came to us, I tried teaching Albie some tricks. He learned quickly how to shake, sit up pretty, give me a high five, and show his belly (laying down on his back). He could even sit up and then fall over when we pointed a finger and said, 'bang.' We were both amazed at how fast he picked up everything. I felt quite proud. Then, as quick as he started, he stopped doing all but latter. If I asked him to shake, he would turn his lips into a fierce snarl and a low growl would emit from his chest. The same answer came with the request for a high five. And to this day, the mere mention of the word 'belly' causes him to protest, even if we don't ask to see it. I asked Kevin if he knew what had happened. He had no idea and was equally baffled. I honestly have no idea why he decided not to perform anymore. And it's not just us that gets this response. He has met people who have put their hand out to ask for a shake and he's given them the same disgruntled response, though it is much more diminutive. In a way, I feel he's decided it's beneath him. I know, I'm anthropomorphizing just a bit too much. But I can't think of any other reason and it honestly fits the behavior.
So maybe that doesn't really prove that he's smart; however, there are many more reasons that point to his intelligence. Since he was a pup, we have given all his toys names. We ask him to bring his big red bone or crazy ball. He picks up on the names pretty quickly. He even knows another language when it comes to his toys. Kong makes a toy that somewhat resembles a tandoor oven, so we started calling it by that name. He actually has two, big and little tandoor, and he knows the difference when we ask him for each. Then there's big red bone. It's not just a toy, it's become a tool. After we moved to our present house, I was playing with him and his favorite toy, chewy ball. Periodically, it would roll under a dresser in the bathroom. Most of the time, he would reach underneath and either pull the ball out or hit it and wait for it to roll out. But there's one spot that he couldn't reach at all. I decided to see if I could teach him to bring me his big red bone which I could then use to get the ball. Again, it didn't take very long for him to pick this up. In fact, there have even been times where he has brought the big red bone when I didn't know the ball was under the dresser. On several occasions, he's brought it to me and put it in my lap. Normally, that would mean he wants me to put treats in it. I don't always do that and will tell him to bring me the ball instead. He gives this frustrated little whine and runs to the bathroom. It's difficult being a dog sometimes when your human friends don't understand you. And he brings it when the ball is stuck somewhere else, too. Yup, he's smart.
But if I still had any doubts, they were erased just a few nights ago. Often, when we go to bed, Albie sits on the bed. Sometimes he still wants to play. Other times, he just wants to visit for a bit. On this particular night, I decided to try to teach him what his tongue was. He had been sticking the tip out of his mouth, so I pointed at it and said, 'that's your tongue.' Then I pointed to my own and repeated the word. I asked him to show me his tongue. Of course, he had no idea what I was saying. Then I asked, 'where's your tongue?' I asked again and he looked at me curiously. He suddenly jumped off the bed and left the room. We didn't think anything of it as he often did this when he wanted to go to sleep, but a moment later he came back with a toy. He hadn't played with this toy in several weeks and had to dig it out of his toy basket. We call it his tux. That's right, he brought me a toy that sounds the closest to what I asked for. Like I said, he hasn't played with it and we hadn't asked for it in a while. I think it's pretty impressive that he remembered it's name and recognized that it sounded like what I was asking about.
Well, he may not know a thousand words like Chaser, but he definitely understands a lot. And I think he may understand more than he lets on, but that just may be because I'm a proud parent.

Flawed dog

I call him this with nothing but love in my heart. You see, we have had this odd, particular dog in our lives for three years now and it has grown more and more apparent that he is not like most other dogs. We've noticed he struggles with communicating. He often gives mixed signals, growling while wagging his tail. We also noticed, and the woman at the dog rescue mentioned, that he didn't like his head to be touched. In fact, it became obvious that he preferred not to be touched at all. And don't even think about touching his feet. That contact will always be answered with growling and snarls. During the rainy season, we had to dry his feet off with a towel every time he came inside. He never got used to it. 

Late that first summer we had him, we signed up for dog training. The most research we did about the trainer was to read reviews from others who had gone to his classes. It didn't take long for me to realize that this was not the kind of obedience training either of us supported. For the first part of the first class, we learned how to 'pop a leash'. That's right, if Albie did something wrong while walking, we were shown how to jerk his leash sharply enough to 'pop' it. This was supposed to startle the dog more than hurt him. My hackles went up. Then the trainer told the students they were to purchase what he called 'throw chains'. These somewhat light-weight links (4 or 5 in length) were to be thrown at the dog when they did something in the house they weren't supposed to do. "Not at their head," he assured us. "Never throw it at their head. Aim for anywhere behind the shoulders." A low growl began at the back of my throat. Really?!? I should throw things at a dog who all ready has issues and whose trust I'm desperately trying to win?!? I still didn't say anything. Next, we learned to walk with our dogs. 'Don't forget to give that leash a pop when you see them doing something wrong!' As I walked with Albie next to the commandant 'trainer', Albie did what he so often did as a puppy, reached down to pick up a leaf to carry while he walked. It didn't have to be a leaf. A stick or pine cone worked just as well. He just wanted something he could carry with pride. The trainer told me I should have popped his leash for that behavior. Okay, that was just about all I could take. Why would I correct my dog for doing something that I found to be adorable? When Kevin and I got home, we both agreed we weren't comfortable with the things we learned or the objects we were supposed to use to curb Albie's bad behavior. I haven't mentioned the throw can, have I? If we found the chain wasn't getting the point across, we were told to use a can with 10 or so coins taped inside. If there was any doubt, it was eliminated the next day. Despite my reservations, I took Albie for a walk to practice as I was asked to do. After several 'pops', Albie grew very agitated. I reached down toward him and he bit at me. It wasn't hard, but it was obvious he was stressed out and did it as a reaction to said stress. I walked into the apartment, crying, and Kevin immediately knew we couldn't continue with this form of training. 
I began researching and found out it is called averse dog training. I also found several blogs written by people who had dogs similar in temperament as Albie who had come to the same realization, averse training does not work well with dogs who are borderline aggressive. I hated to admit it, but that was what he was. Having no real knowledge of what his early life was like, I began reading every book I could find on dog behavior. And I found quite a few really good ones. I learned that most studies say that taking a puppy from the litter should not happen before 12 weeks. Puppies learn a lot from both their mother and the litter about how to behave in certain circumstances. And they continue to do so well after eight weeks old. Studies also recommend waiting to spay or neuter your dog until they are closer to a year old. Dogs, depending upon the breed, aren't fully mature until atleast one year old and waiting can help with attitude. 
These studies actually helped me see a little better into what was going on in Albie's mind. As I said in an earlier post, he was found abandoned at a laundromat when he was no more than 6 weeks old. We have no idea how long he was there or what his life was like wherever he came from. What was obvious to us was that he wanted to trust us, but some fear lingered inside him that made it difficult; thereby, making his behavior erratic and sometimes unpredictable.
Probably one of the most fascinating things I learned was how dogs became domesticated. New research has shown that, though dogs did come from wolves, present-day wolves are very far removed from domesticated dogs. Scientists believe that a particular inclination had to be present within certain wolves 10,000 years ago for them to seek out humans for food, protection, and companionship. Most wolves at that time did not do this. This particular wolf bloodline then evolved into domesticated beings. 
I'd like to say that, after three long years, we have no problems; alas, I cannot. Albie still doesn't like his feet being touched or towels in general being used on him. Though he has learned to allow us to pet him, he sometimes still growls. The one thing that has changed for the better is I no longer think that my dog hates me. I don't blame myself or him for what is happening. I have worked really hard at earning his trust, as has my boyfriend, and we can honestly say Albie has come a long way toward being the good boy we know he wants to be.

If you are interested in reading about dog behavior, I strongly recommend the following books:
Inside of a Dog: What Dogs See, Smell, and Know by Alexandra Horowitz 
Dog Sense by John Bradshaw  
Through a Dog's Eyes by Jennifer Arnold 

He's a travelin' pup

Now that the question of his name was answered, it was on to the next concern. Would Albie be comfortable with leaving a home he has known for literally one night and travel across the state with two virtual strangers? With all his worldly possessions in tow (mind you, that only included a couple toys, a chewy and his crate), we were off on our first journey together. It was amazing. He absolutely loved being in the truck. We built a platform in the area behind the seats in the truck so he could look out of the back, but he decided the armrest between us was a perfect puppy perch. And that is where he spent most of the ride. We arrived at the house after dark and quickly got settled into our room. We set up the crate, wondering how he would do sleeping, not only in a strange room, but in a crate he'd only slept in once before. Albie was wonderful. We had no reason to worry at all. It was soon very obvious that he loves traveling. In fact, we have found that he is at his happiest when we are on the road. He loves being in a car. 

For four lovely days, we spent every moment together, enjoying the beautiful Sierra foothills. Albie did really well with all the people he met. He did great walking on a leash. We did find out he had kennel cough, which he must have got at the rescue. We fretted some over his persistent hacking, but he seemed quite healthy otherwise. Little did we know, this was just the beginning of many journeys to be made together. I would tell you more about that weekend, but I think pictures tell the story just as well.

Waiting to head out.

He was such a little thing.

Albie's first time in snow.

He's full of piss and vinegar, ok maybe just vinegar.

Waiting with his daddy. Yes, I'm mommy.