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

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.

Beautiful Angus

Sad news this week. After 17 and 1/2 years on the planet, the most gorgeous of Border Collies, Angus, has left us. His Mum called us with the news and explained how in the end he had become totally deaf and blind as well as incontinent. She knew it was time and made the trip we all dread to his lifelong vet. She spent a half hour with him before it was time, talking about all the great experiences he'd had in his life. We were included in that and feel very privileged to have been such an important part in the life of a most beautiful dog.

Angus was with us from the very start. I remember our first day of walking a pack and there were three black and white border collies. They all looked so alike to us, naive new pack leaders. How would we ever tell the difference? Of course they all had their own personalities and Angus' was pure heart. Every morning he would be waiting for us at his gate - where are they? where are they? Open the gate and straight out, a quick wee in the lane so as not to disgrace himself, then into the van to greet the others.

On the walks we always felt that Angus was somehow looking after us. He was a brilliant ballcatcher, loving to play, but he'd also be always aware of his responsibilities, rounding up the stragglers - come on, we're all a pack together, do your bit! It always felt safe with Angus there.

He did have one little special quirk, not shared by any other dog we've met. He loved a little white fluffy dog. Not just to look at, or cuddle up to. No, he saw a new little white fluffy coming his way and he felt an overwhelming need to round up the unsuspecting little fluffball - come on little thing, this way, this way, over here, now there you go, through the imaginary chute. We figured he saw them as little sheep and his genetics just kicked in.

Sometimes his Mum would go away and he would come to stay. Our dogs were all thrilled when Angus arrived, like some sort of God had deigned to join them. Socksy, our cat, on the other hand, would be most amused because he knew that for the duration of his stay, Angus would try to befriend him. This gave Socksy the much coveted opportunity to mess with the mind of a dog. It always went the same way. Angus would stare from a distance. Socksy would grant him a glance. Encouraged, Angus would move closer. Socksy would do that thing with his fur where it ripples up and down his back. Angus would take this as a sign, and move closer. Socksy would look him directly in the eye, get up, and turn his back before settling down facing in the other direction. Angus would sigh gratefully. This would go on for hours, days.

I remember the first day we became aware that something was wrong. We never had to worry about Angus on the walks, he was always rounding up the pack, checking what dangers or fun lay ahead, reporting on the others. Sure his legs had gotten a little wobbly and he needed help into the dog bus, but he still performed his duties with distinction. Then one day he was well behind the pack. We called him and while he heard the voice he could no longer tell which direction it came from, nor, it seemed, could he see too far ahead. He responded to the call by running to catch up with us, but entirely in the wrong direction. Our hearts broke. Our beautiful Angus was getting old.

From that day on, we reversed the roles of him looking after us and made a priority of looking out for him.

We are eternally grateful to have had this wonderful dog as a part of our lives. May he rest/play/round up the pack in peace and joy. We miss you Angus.

New Puppies!

Two new puppies have joined Critter Club. One is the most handsome, Indie who started with us one whole week ago. On his first day: ick I will not get into the car with you even though you smell like a dog and thus could be fun. Wolf in sheep's clothing and all that.

Indie's Mum and Dad told us that Indie will love to walk with us but really doesn't go much on other dogs. But of course we are the Dog Rock Gods and we do make magic happen. Today, just one short week later (miracles always happen in short weeks), Indie not only jumped enthusiastically into the car but played like a crazy boy for the entire hour walk with Olive the Staffy. Good huh?

Today we introduced a brand new puppy to the group. Despite our well placed bravado we were a little trepidacious because this particular pup is a Labrador from the House of Baci. Baci's individual Critter Club page tells you a little of what you need to know about her but trust us, there will be plenty more Baci features on this very blog before our time is up. In short - because this really is meant to be about her new sister - Baci is the naughtiest dog we walk - currently or ever. Fortunately for Baci she is also loveable, but enough about her. This is about her new Chocolate sister, Daisy.

We've known Daisy for five or six weeks now. While we waited for her to have her final shots, we'd go pick up Baci every day and little Daisy would be waiting at the gate with her. We'd pick Daisy up and take her over to the Dog Bus, let her look inside, give her a cuddle, then put her back behind the gate.

At last, today is different for little Daisy. This time the gate opens and a lead is paced on her collar and she follows Baci to her transport. Open the door and in jumps Baci with Daisy quickly looking up at the human to see what to do. With encouragement, she pops in and scurries immediately to the back to sit next to her big sister. Paws up if you're surprised Baci sits at the back of the bus.

Once at the park, Daisy is last out of the bus, firmly on her lead. The first walk is always on a lead no matter how good the dog appears. And puppies take quite a while to be allowed to roam free. Into the park and Daisy is so excited she doesn't know where to look first. So she looks to Baci. Unfortunately at this very moment Baci is engaged in one of her favourite past times. PLEASE STOP READING FOR A FEW LINES IF YOU HAVE EATEN OR INTEND TO EAT WITHIN A THREE HOUR PERIOD. As Daisy looks to her big sister she sees Baci rush to the back end of Tilly, mouth open facing up, hoping to catch the poo Tilly is producing before it hits the ground. Think Homer Simpson under a beer tap.

We turn the innocent head away and encourage her to sniff the grass to get an understanding of the dog wonderland that is Centennial Park. Heaven. Daisy attempts to sniff every blade of grass in the park. Gradually she looks up and starts to interact with other dogs. This is great!

We're so impressed with her alert responsiveness that we try to call her between us - first a metre away and then further. We get all the way up to five metres on her very first day. What a clever little dog. We praise her lavishly, "good girl, good Daisy" and who should come running over for a congratulatory pat? You guessed it, Big Sister Baci.

On the journey home, Daisy runs into her first piece of bad news. Dogs who are big or who will grow big, are not allowed on the front seat of the car. The politics of the front seat is quite the area of discussion at Critter Club and a blog on that very topic is bound to follow. Daisy simply cannot understand how masses of praise do not lead to an invitation to join the Dog Rock God in the front of the car. But being a smart little girl, she gets the message, and curls up with the others in the back.

Once home, a big kiss and cuddle - for Daisy, we do not share kisses with Baci, ironic isn't it? - and then in to rest to prepare for tomorrow's big adventure. We can't wait.

2010 - it begins ...

The first day back walking after the Christmas break is like a regular Monday on steroids – no, we don’t take steroids, just look at us for heaven’s sake. No, the regular ‘why aren’t I rich, why do I have to work for a meagre living?’ Monday feeling is amplified.

Mongrel alarm goes off and the bad news begins. It is no longer a day off. There is work to be done. Dogs to be walked.

Out of bed ridiculously early because the dog rock gods have to walk their own dogs before the actual work of dog walking begins. Ruby, Bubble, and Gizmo cope with our hurrumphing around Sydney Park, groaning about how ridiculously quickly that ‘holiday’ went. We hurrumph a little too long and suddenly we’re late. Great.

Rush rush. Fortunately there’s not too much traffic on the roads because all those other bastards are still on holiday. Not us. Our holiday is over. Serious grump.

And then, and this is going to sound pathetic but its true so the cynics need stop reading now, because, yes I’m going to say it, the magic begins.

First stop, Monty and Buttons' house. Still groaning, out of the car and … engage.

Bark bark bark bark bark. That would be – you’re late and oh, by the way, where have you been for the past ten, yes ten, days? Always complaining. Fumble for the key, the barking intensifies, gate flies open, and there they are: two of the biggest smiles you ever did see. Hello hello, how are you, good to see you.

Rush to the Dog Bus, and once inside, licks, and cuddles, and vastly wagging tails, and sheer delight. The scenario is repeated at every stop of the day. Nothing is more delightful than the unadulterated joy of a dog. And this is pretty much what greets us at every house, every day that we walk.

Terrible job. So sad the holiday is over.