(not that she’ll read this, but . . .)

Lupa posted a journal entry about how she really likes German Shepards, grew up with them, and wants one, but not just now. It made me think about Sasha, and since her birthday was the 9th, I thought I’d ramble on a bit about her.

Pre-Sasha, I wasn’t a dog person, probably still not. But Sasha is a darling and I can’t imagine not having her in my life. I had dogs growing up, but when I had a choice to get a pet it was a cat (living in an apt in NYC, there really wasn’t the option for a dog). Eighteen years later, Morpheus finally went to the Great Beyond. Now I have a dog, and the difference is profound.

First of all there is a huge difference when you get a puppy than as an adult. Lots more work (it’s as close as I will ever get to having a baby, and in comparing notes with my sister — who does have a human child — there are a lot of similarities) for one thing.

It is also a lot more responsibility for you, the trainer. We did a thing that apparently is rare: we researched ‘how to raise a dog’ and followed the advice. There are so many bad habits dogs fall into that are absolutely behavioral — and avoidable. Mostly it requires our attention to make sure incorrect/unwanted behavior doesn’t become habit. As one author says: “There is no ‘holiday’ or ‘day off’ for a dog, and so there isn’t one for you, either.” Our Saturday mornings look essentially the same as Tuesday’s — up at 5:30am so she can do ‘business,’ perhaps back for a nap for another 30-60 minutes, then out for a long walk, ball throwing until she literally falls down from exhaustion, and home again to dress and feed her once she’s recovered. If we both came down with the flu, we might spend more time throwing the ball and less time walking, but one or the other of us would be up at 5:30am to do it. Similarly, when we leave the house with her, she has to wait for us to go first (its a dominance thing). Every single time. We can’t forget. No holidays.

Like GSDs, Labs have problems with dysplasia of the hips and shoulders. We had to be really careful about her running up and down the 3 flights of stairs in our house when she was very young — we had to wait until she was X big before we could relax about it. We have to pay attention that she doesn’t injure herself (muscle strains and other ‘soft tissue’ injuries) when she plays ball becuase she has already done so, and the week we spent giving her doggy aspirin and NOT letting her play so she’d heal was a nightmare of doggy tension.

Because she does have a lot of play in her, we also need to make sure our house is doggy-proofed before we leave for the day. This means that the remote is put away, as are all small (non toy) objects that are located anywhere below a line five feet off the floor. Anything soft (a napkin, or towel) also needs to be put away, or we resign ourselves to putting it in the laundry when we get home. Books, DVDs, magazines . . . all put away. The alternative is its destruction. (We paid the library more than $200 in replacement book fees so far this year, learning how destructive she can be.) We have specific toys for her to play with — a 2 lb medicine ball (solid rubber) about 6″ in diameter is a favorite; as is an assortment of soft toys that rattle. We give her a bone to chew on. We turn on the radio. close her out of the bathrooms, offices, and bedroom because toilet paper is edible and makes a nice layer of masticated bits on the carpet and she once dug through our comforter and into the mattress pad and we don’t want to replace them, again.

On the other hand, she watches the kids playing in the schoolyard that abuts our backyard with interest and a calm demeanor. She likes to meet new people and lick their toes and no longer jumps but keeps it ‘four on the floor’ (our reminder/command). She loves going for a ride in the car, likes the vet, and has fun with other dogs in teh dog park. She didn’t mind staying in the kennel for a week when we went to Mexico. She checks out what we’re having for dinner, and then goes to sleep in the hall because she knows it has nothing to do with her. (And yes, that last thing is a constant source of amazement for me. A dog that doesn’t beg during dinner? She loves to watch TV with us, draped over the back cushions of the couch, pressed up against our shoulders, looking out the window (her TV). She thinks taking a bath is playtime in her own personal pond.

I can’t imagine life without her. Happy Birthday Sasha.