Monday, March 22, 2010

Letters of Concern


Dear xxxx,
We are a little concerned over the recent conduct of your formerly sweet puppy, xxx. Lately she seems to have become somewhat ashamed of her white colour and each day, does all in her power to become brown. This involves laying in mud and refusing to come out until her colour has completely changed. We feel that her self-esteem issues need to be addressed as a matter of urgency before she refuses to come to the park altogether. Please arrange an appointment with the Dog Rock Gods at your earliest convenience.
Concerned regards,
DRGs


Dear xxx,
We are a little concerned over the recent conduct of your formerly sweet puppy, xxxx. Recently she has come to regard her transport to the park as a playground in itself. Despite numerous warnings from the Dog Rock Gods, she continues to cavort about, encouraging all of the formerly good puppies to play with her in the back of the bus. Now we do not know what sort of behaviour is acceptable in your own home, but this most certainly does not meet the high standards of Critter Club. Please arrange an appointment with the Dog Rock Gods at your earliest convenience to discuss the teaching of discipline and social responsibility in your family environment.
Concerned regards,
DRGs


Dear xxxxx,
We are a little concerned over the recent conduct of your formerly sweet puppy, xxxxxx. While we understand he is a much-loved only child who can indeed have as many toys as he desires, he needs to understand that things are a little different in the park. If another dog is playing with a ball, it might be best if he asks that dog nicely if he can share. Currently, he growls at his former friend causing the poor fretful dog to drop the ball in astonishment so that he can swoop in and steal - and we do not use that word lightly - the ball. Similarly, he needs to understand that when a human child is holding a toy in her hand, he is not to swoop on the child and take the toy as this will cause the child to scream and the Dog Rock Gods to be abused. Please arrange an appointment with the Dog Rock Gods at your earliest convenience to discuss your obvious parenting issues.
Concerned regards,
DRGs

Monday, March 15, 2010

People. People who need ...


While the walking of dogs is a constant joy, except the really, really hot days and the 6th and 7th really, really rainy days, sometimes the lack of human company is a little apparent.

Dogs are great for a play, great for a cuddle. Some even have a vocabulary that includes sit, stay, and stop scratching. But there are times when a little human interaction would be greatly appreciated. Times such as when you tell your companions in the car how the real estate agent is clueless when it comes to selling your house, or how it wouldn’t hurt your internet provider to occasionally provide a full day of internet, or ponder what you might do about an inbred psychotic neighbour who seems to have chosen you as the perfect target. On these occasions, the look of utter devotion to the Dog Rock God (DRG) falls a little short.

Fortunately, for these few occasions, we have the companion humans of the dogs we walk. Not all are at home when we pick up their dogs, some we’ve met only when we arranged to walk their dog, but some of those who are around provide a much-needed oasis in a desert of woof. Libby, Paul, Deb, David, Kate, Karen, Tanya, Stella, Aston are all great for a chat. Ooops just realised we’ve entered a very dangerous “why didn’t she mention me” path and so we quickly turn around and retreat from whence we came.

Phew.

Of course, you’ll be surprised to know, not everyone is delightful. But we do tend to eschew those who treat us like “the help”. The oddest thing is when “the help” treat you like “the help” – you know, housekeepers, gardeners, the man of the house (kidding … seriously). Concierges can be a bit of a treat. Usually they start by looking down at you from a great height. Perhaps it’s the shiny uniform vs the special dogwalking attire, but gradually they turn into real human beings. One concierge on his first (and I believe last) day found the whole thing a little overwhelming and took it out on the DRG screaming, “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”
After a long silence the DRG looked him directly in the eye and quietly said, “I’m the dog walker.”

But all in all we’ve had lots of people we’ve loved and become close to over time. We’ve been saddened by the human stuff that has happened to some of our humans: death, divorce, moving into aged care.

More than once we’ve been called out in the middle of the night, once to collect the dogs because our owner had decided to kick the new boyfriend out, and another time to pick up a dog because who knew when anyone would be home while the birth of their first child was happening. Then there are the oddities. To pick two:

1. Lovely woman, quite eccentric, used to love it when she was home for a chat. Seemed to have a bunch of money but no actual job. It happens. She gets engaged to a bloke we don’t like at all but, of course, say nothing. Why don’t we like him? You guessed it – he treats us like “the help”. So one fine day, the unsuspecting DRG opens the door to get (name of dog pixellated to protect identity) and lo and behold our lovely woman is there. Sobbing. Oh. Gosh. Um. Are you OK? “He left me,” begins the monologue and, to summarise, “he said I wasn’t allowed to work anymore but he didn’t give me any money and how am I supposed to live and I only did a couple of nights because I don’t have to do that many because I earn $1800 per night and…” $1800 per night? What could she…? Oh. Gosh. Um.

2. While on the subject of money … cue evil music. There was this couple. I can’t tell you how much I want to name them. They had a (type of dog pixellated so we don’t get sued). Actually they had one of those types of dogs before – lovely dog but used to get sick all the time and often came to stay with us and we’d have to give him pills 3 times a day, but lovely dog. Went out of our way. Didn’t charge extra. Because we’re NICE. Sadly that beautiful dog dies and they replace it with same brand but totally different nightmare dog. As you might imagine, the Dog Rock Gods show an enormous amount of patience trying to coax obedience from this dreadful dog. We even take it for training in our own time. What are we? Nuts? It’s behaviour gets worse. We try to talk to the owners but they’re busy playing golf or the stockmarket or some poor bastard. We finally get their attention and explain that their dog is biting at other dogs and the only way we can take him out is if he has a muzzle. Meredith, the nicer DRG, goes out of her way to source the most comfortable muzzle available. It’s called a husher and is available in 13 sizes and must be ordered especially. Saint Meredith measures said dog’s muzzle and orders it in through a local vet. We pay $35 direct to the vet having been told to put it on the bill. Meanwhile they sell their massive home in (suburb pixellated so we don’t get sued) for a suburb record – over $6 million. Next the bloke of the shining couple decides he can’t bear to see his dog with a muzzle on (after three outings where we were making progress) and forbids “the help” to use it. The DRGs can no longer be of assistance here and must let the dog go. We send the final invoice, including the cost of the husher. A week later we get an apologetic call from the local vet saying the used husher had been mailed back to them with a request that they refund the cost of the husher to us but, of course, they can’t because it’s used. The next day payment arrives from the dreadful owners of the dreadful dogs, minus the $35 for the husher. Say it again, $6 million plus.

Monday, March 8, 2010

The Harmony of Dogs


One of the first questions the uninitiated ask us Dog Rock Gods (DRGs) is, “Don’t they fight?”

Strangely no-one ever asked me that as a schoolteacher and yet the answer in my former profession was “always”, while the current answer is ….. “No”.

Dogs are pack animals and quickly find the place in the pack where they are happiest. My, recently gushed over, Ruby, for example, is firmly a bottom dog. An eight-week-old pup crosses her path and she’s quickly on her back begging, “Can I be bottom? Can I please? Let me follow you!”

Just as obviously, there is usually a clear top dog. Currently in Critter Club, that dog is Toast. He didn’t have to fight his way to get there, he just assumed the mantle as previous dogs got a little older, and made less frequent appearances.

The interesting thing, and hugely annoying while we’re at it, is that almost any undesexed male dog (UMD) in the park, will come and size himself up against Toast.

This is why we refuse to walk undesexed dogs. While all of them don’t automatically want to dominate, many do. And those who don’t can often attract the type of attention Toast gets while being positively unable to handle it.

With poor Toast it usually goes like this:

Toast is busy playing with his pack when UMD comes charging from nowhere, chest out, hackles raised, licking lips furiously.

“Hey. I’m better than you. I got balls, see? Let me beat you up and have your pack.”

Toast, to his credit, holds himself steady, doesn’t back down, but does not fight.

Meanwhile, and this happened this week, DRGs start screaming at the (usually male) owner (no comment) to “Get your dog away.”

Owner: “He’s not a problem. Let them sort it out for themselves.”

DRGs: “We are responsible for these dogs, this is not a playground where the bully wins, we will not take a dog of ours home covered in blood. Now please take your dog away!”

Remarkably the owner usually scurries off with his tail between his legs.

See?

No fights at Critter Club.

As for the unsnipped … drives us nuts.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Friends




Call me daft, you wouldn’t be the first, but having spent about the same amount of time teaching high school as I have with dogs, I feel compelled to make the earth shattering revelation: dog friendships are just like those in the playground. Trust me, it’s true in so many ways.

First, there are the new kids to the school – or Critter Club but I think you get the analogy by now. And, incidentally, if you have a problem with anthropomorphism, anthropogoaway because you’re just wrong.

The new club members usually have that exact same look on their faces that the new little kid does. And, as with teenagers, there’s usually one that will be sure to take the newbie under their wing. In the case of Critter Club, the caring role is usually played by Toast, the boxer with the biggest tongue in the world. We’ve had quite a few little new puppies of late, and Toast has made sure each of them feels welcome and has someone to play with. Our smartest dog, Gypsy labradoodle, can also be relied upon to get the new puppies started with a gentle game. It’s beautiful to watch.

Sometimes the addition of a new dog brings out a whole other side in a dog who has been with us for a while. Olive, for example, always hung out with the cool kids, nothing too crazy for her. Then along came Indie, and suddenly Olive runs around with him like a mad thing for the full hour, all elements of cool totally left behind.

Roger and Ruby were inseparable little sausages, until Lex arrived and decided that two could be three and now they all play happily together. This, of course, differs slightly from the playground where noses are more easily put out of joint.

Louis and Boris are our newest arrivals. Boris, a baby Australian Bulldog, thought he’d spend all his time with Toast because he seemed to think they looked alike. Louis, a retriever, initially wanted to hang out with another retriever, George, but eventually decided George was a bit of a boring old fart and he’d rather spend time with someone more his own age, 16 week old Boris. So Boris has defected from Toast to Louis.

This will likely change over time. Most groups evolve. For the longest time, Twiggy, Charlie, and Jemima were an impenetrable threesome. As Charlie and Jemima became more enthralled with each other, Twiggy found others more interested in chasing games than the brawling games her former group insisted upon. Her departure left space for new white fluffy, Josie, to join the threesome. But hey, she seemed like fun, so Twiggy returned – which is good because sometimes Charlie likes to play with the ball dogs, much to Jemima’s horror.

The ball dogs are too cool for school and top of the tree sits Bebe and Jennifer. If you’ve seen Grease, think Pink Ladies. They are the Rizzo (Bebe) and Frenchy (Jennifer) of Critter Club. Em is working her way into Pink Lady status while Spikey, Snowy, and Charlie would qualify as T-birds. Come to think of it, Toast works as Danny Zuko. We don’t have a Sandy.

While the ball dogs lead the pack, always bringing up the rear is, what we like to refer to as the CWA, Country Women’s Association dogs. These are the dogs who like to take their time, smell every blade of grass or, to anthropomorphise them, they may well be members of the CWA on a trip to Sydney, carefully window shopping at the QVB before stopping for a nice Devonshire tea somewhere. Membership of this group is limited to Dixie, Sadie, and Babooti, with a special guest boy dog, Bello. They have a lovely time while the rest of us wait.

But back to school. A further similarity is what we like to refer to as the back of the bus syndrome. Remember how the naughty kids would always sit at the back of the bus/class? And there was always the kid who wanted to be bad but didn’t want to do anything on their own? We’ve got that too! Baci is the naughty kid and Tilly is the one who would never do anything wrong by herself but, should Baci lead the way … she’s in! And Baci can always be relied upon to lead the way. But should Toby Beagle be there, cue Kate Bush, Heathcliff, Cathy. All that. Tilly only has eyes for Toby.

Of course special friendships can go wrong. For the longest time, Buttons only wanted to play with Mitzi. And Mitzi loved it that way. Then one day, Buttons went all prepubescent boy and didn’t want to be seen with a goony girl. Mitzi was heartbroken. But like a good Critter Club girl, she picked herself up after a few sobbing weeks, and found others to play with. Hah!

Finally, there’s the boy who went off the rails and is just starting to come back to the fold after much patient counselling from the staff. Beautiful young Rex, the cheeky long haired Jack Russell, would always play like crazy with the others. He would have been the first kid out at recess, ball in hand, and the last one back to class. So one weekend he goes away to his Dad’s farm and he comes back totally different. He doesn’t play anymore. We call home to find out what’s happened, only to discover that our innocent young hero has succumbed to his natural instincts and killed a chicken. He no longer wants to play silly, childish chasing games, not when he has experienced the real thing.

Thankfully he has come through his awkward teenage period, and Rex is casing around with the best of them. Phew.