Schick of the Litter

Our new puppy, Delta, was the last dog taken of her litter. We didn’t really understand why when we picked her up. We were a little bit grateful that others had taken the difficulty of having choices away from us. Looking at the little female pup, I was surprised and wondered why she had been left behind. Not only was she the last of the litter but I am under the impression that the other pups went quick while she lingered alone, waiting for a home. I’m guessing people have a better eye for judging a cute puppy than I do.

I mean between the lazy, droopy eye, the hound dog head and floppy ears, the awkward big paws that face out like a ducks and her tendency to fall over easily and trip over nothing, she’s pretty normal. What’s not to like? She also has her Labrador side’s propensity to covet anything that she can deem “edible” which is limited to whatever she can swallow or chew into little pieces and swallow before something smaller comes along. With this propensity for eating she has become quite large for a pup with long awkward legs that suggest there is more size to come. (Or that she’ll always be awkward).

Even though she is an oaf, at least she is pretty loyal to family. She is a lover that enjoys hanging out with everyone. I’m pretty sure she’s loyal enough that if we had some great family secret, like the Bush Baked Bean secret and she knew it, she wouldn’t give it up…right away. If a spy offered her a meat stick she’d hold out; at least long enough to ask, with a quivering voice, “Is that cheese in there?” We haven’t told her any family secrets¸ yet.

Our previous dog, Banjo, was a highly trained and elite athlete who immediately commanded breathless attention when he moved. One of my great joys was letting him loose in open fields and watching that dog run at top speed. The grace in his running style was so beautiful it had become one of my stress relievers and hobbies just to open the door of the truck; say, “release” and watch him go.

With Delta that experience is somewhat different. She loves to “run” through those same open fields too. After I lift her out of the truck (she still can’t jump in or out) she takes off, I think. I’m still not sure if she’s trying to scrape her hind end along or run though. Once she gets to her top speed, one of those awkwardly outward facing paws catches something and she tumbles head over tail (almost, she’s not quite fast enough for a spectacular crash). Then while trying to make a graceful recovery, a hind leg will manage to step on one of her ears, usually on the opposite side and down she’ll go again.

Delta is such an oaf that she has trouble sometimes doing what she is best at and loves most, scarfing scraps. For example, she has found that there are, apparently, lots of accessible goodies in an open dish washer. So far, while getting her head into the machine to lick stuff off; she managed to get her collar stuck on the dish rack, which startled her. The result was a giant, clumsy puppy running backwards around the kitchen with an entire dish rack, complete with dirty dishes, around the kitchen. While in a panic to get it off, she still managed to get a few licks on whatever flew by her muzzle. Trust me, that mess would have woken neighbors; if we had any.

She also managed to pop the parking brake on my running truck at the top of our very steep driveway the other day. I ran in the house to grab my wallet and as I reached for it I saw her rolling by out the kitchen window. Looking slightly confused and forward with paws on the dash, she ran over our son, Nick’s, bicycle and a shrubbery before she came to a stop completely across the road but before the creek. I don’t think she realized she was ever in danger and, in fact, seems quite proud of herself.

Obviously, we have concluded that she may not be the brightest dog we’ve ever had. She doesn’t listen very well and it takes a lot of training to get any consistency from her. If there is any hint of work or discipline required, she will just lay down and stare at you. She is only responsive to training or listening if there is fun or free food involved. Of course, that is what she has in common with a lot of people which could also be a sign of some sort of intelligence but her antics and reactions to stimuli during the course of the rest of her day suggest otherwise.

I haven’t had her doing much hunting training yet. Our days have been packed and the weather hasn’t cooperated much. She does show some promise if we get around to it. She is a strong nose user (I doubt she has any choice with that one droopy, lazy eye wandering around). Also, she enjoys being afield even though I haven’t figured out why. If I fell down that much, I’d prefer couches and recliners over brush and birds. If I can get around to it, if she can be convinced that finding birds is more fun than finding cat crap and dead animals in a fetid state, she might be able to make something of a bird hunter out of herself. Until then, she does just fine in the niche’ she’s found herself, being available to give and receive love and laughs from her family and clumsily clowning around; the shtick of her litter.

See you along the stream

Delta Belle

Our “new” puppy Delta “Belle” is eleven months old now. I mocked her when she was younger about being clumsy but now I don’t because it hurts her feelings and then she trips on something. I have to admit that she has gotten less clumsy though. In fact, she is quite fond of displaying her dog like skill at running. At dodging and jumping she does pretty well between terrible crashes. She keeps growing and now is pushing seventy pounds with, what looks like, more room to grow. I didn’t really want a big dog…

She loves chocolate and pizza which makes me wonder if she is kin but she also loves cat crap and dead animals, so I know she’s part hunting dog. Speaking of, the jury is still out on whether or not she’ll be a good hunter. If she is supposed to be hunting the jury, they will be out for a while. I have to admit that after losing our beloved short hair, Banjo, last year; I haven’t had the motivation to put much training into Delta, so it isn’t all her fault. Even though I can take some of the blame, she does bear partial responsibility for lagging behind. She is so sensitive that even from learning by my mistakes of the past and easing her into hunting skills such as, say, ignoring gun shots has been very difficult. Even at long range, with quiet, low caliber rounds she shows signs of skittishness about hunting.

Another one of the impediments to Delta’s training is that she is particularly fond of my bride, Dana. There is no doubt she is Dana’s dog. When she isn’t with her adopted Momma she is too busy wondering where she is and when she’ll be back to completely focus on her hunting training like she needs to. She has shown some signs of being able to learn new tricks, so that is good.

When we leave her alone, we leave the television on to help keep her company, usually the learning channel, this seems to relax her. I assume it works and she hasn’t been napping. That would explain why she’s written an essay on Abraham Lincoln (with an appendix on how he believed dogs need more treats), registered to vote, souped up our vehicle motors while improving gas mileage, asked me how the government can fund “shovel ready” jobs to get construction workers back to work when the EPA denies the majority of permits for construction projects and she baked a birthday cake for Shannon; she misspelled Shannon though. It said, “Happy Annual Litter Joining Date Shannooooo.” The mistake may have occurred because she slipped and fell off the counter while trying to rig a powered icing machine while reaching for the thesaurus. I think it is a ploy to justify her arguments for her own i-Pad.

I realized I had made a really bad mistake on a recent duck hunt after I had left the tube on the Oxygen channel. I got her up early and all the way to the river and all day she pouted. She scared off one flock as she complained that I was going to leave her for another dog and she applied a splint and CPR to a duck I had downed rather than retrieve it. We went home after she started picketing my blind. It was the military channel that night.

Despite her early driving success, she hasn’t tried to take my truck very often. Banjo always insisted on driving but Delta seems to barely tolerate riding. She doesn’t even like to stick her head out the window when we’re rolling down the road. Instead, she lies in the back and covers her head. I suspect she got the remote and had the TV on the weather channel or the NASCAR channel at some point this summer.

I know what you’re thinking, “Bill, leave the hunting channel on for her.” Yeah, wise guys, I did that and all that happened was she ran up a $10,000 dollar bill with Cabelas and wants to sit in enclosed tree stands. She did buy me a shock collar though.

I’m anxiously awaiting a writing channel but until then, it is going to be the business channel and I’m going to hide the remote for the shock collar with the T.V. remote.

See you along the stream.