A Presidential Puppy

I am thrilled to present to you Mr. Lincoln, the newest addition to the McBee pack.

Tuckered out after a day of new dogs and humans
Christmas Eve 2012

Somehow I came up with the brilliant / preposterous idea of getting Ryan's parents a puppy for Christmas. They get to enjoy the grand-dogs pretty often (sometimes on short notice!), but Ryan's mom has been idly chit-chatting about getting one of their own for a while now. Just after Thanksgiving, Ryan, his sister and I began the search for the perfect rescue. They love Gracie's good-natured disposition so we tried to find a Boxer mix. There were a few at the shelters, and we went to meet them. It turned out to be a bit of a roller coaster. The first one was adopted minutes before we arrived. The second one was not good with other large dogs (and we have several in the family). Then the first dog's pending adoption fell through, so we went back to meet her. I called ahead to make sure the dog was still there and available. She was. Two hours later, we arrived with our dogs to see how they would all get along, but it was not meant to be - she was adopted again!

Feeling a little deflated (but happy dogs were finding their forever homes), I decided to take a break. I still looked online at the new intakes for the shelters in the area. A couple of the photos and stories called out to me, but they were in further-away shelters that held odd hours. Not ideal for two office folks and a teacher to align schedules. We were resigning ourselves to the fact that we might not have a puppy by Christmas. Additionally, I began to see it as a sign that maybe we shouldn't just get a dog for Ryan's unknowing parents. Maybe it would be better to tell them that's what we wanted to do and then all look together. Ryan went and bought other Christmas gifts to put under the tree. Then, this popped up in my Facebook news feed:

That sweet little face pulled at my heart strings immediately. Dasher came into my life via a Facebook post from a friend who had found him on the street, so this had the makings of that wonderful story.  I think at the start I just wanted to help my friend Kevin find a dog-sitter for his weekend trip. You and I both know that's not how I operate. Before I knew it, Kevin was telling me how sweet of puppy he is, and we were making logistical arrangements to pick him up. Neither Kevin nor I live in our hometown (or home state) any longer, but we were both in our childhood town for Christmas Eve. This was turning out to be perfect! We would present the puppy to Ryan's parents ON CHRISTMAS DAY! If that isn't a sign that this particular puppy is meant to be the one, then nothing will ever be. 

Ryan and I woke up early on Christmas Eve to head to Atlanta to get him. Lesson learned here: If you want this perennially-late, non-morning person to wake up on time, promise her a puppy.

I walked into Kevin's parents' home where his wife, Anna, was holding Lincoln in his lap. I put my hand out for him to sniff, and he picked up his little puppy head and gave me little puppy kisses. When my hand wasn't enough, he stood up and licked my face. He melted my heart on the spot!

He's around 12-14 weeks old now and heavy as a bag of bricks. This guy's gonna get big and burly. Anna and Kevin found him on the side of a road on their way to a holiday party. They just could not leave him there, so they had a friend watch him while they went to the party then picked him up afterwards to begin the search for his humans. No microchip. No craigslist ads for a missing puppy. No lost pet signs outside or online. The vet gave him a once-over and awarded him a mostly clean bill of health for having been outside. A couple prescriptions and they were on their way. The gracious rescuers taught him to sit, began house-training and even worked on some target training. He's quite well-behaved and listens to commands. He's a smart guy - that's for sure! Anna and Kevin tried not to imprint a name in case his new humans would want to choose their own, but we LOVE what they chose for him. Lincoln. Because he's the color of a penny. What a creative idea. I knew Ryan's parents would love it, too. And they did.

After the hand-off, Lincoln's next stop was my grandparents' house - where there were five other dogs. Five. Big ones, too. Lincoln wasn't afraid. He jumped right in there and began tugging on collars, chomping on ears and licking faces. He tumbled all over the living room. He went potty as soon as we brought him outside. All of the nervousness that Ryan and I felt about bringing home this dog having never met him subsided. It all clicked, and we breathed a sigh of relief. Then we became immediately attached and wanted to keep him! Thankfully, he'll only live just down the street and we can see him any day we desire, which, let's be honest, will probably be every day.

I was nervous and shaking a little when we walked into Ryan's parents' house on Christmas evening to open presents. What if they said no? As far as the puppy goes, it would have been no big deal - Ryan and I would just have three dogs then. It was more of a total miss-the-mark situation. I didn't want them upset that we even thought it might be a good idea.  I had Lincoln in my arms. Ryan's mother asked "What have you got there?".  I replied "Your Christmas present!" and handed Lincoln to her. Or at least I thought I did. That's where things went blurry as I awaited her response. In true Lincoln fashion, he went straight for the face kisses. She giggled in delight, and I felt better. Now onto Ryan's father. A tougher sell. I think he was skeptical at first, but by the end of the night he was smiling and impressed by how smart Lincoln is. He'll be able to teach him some great commands and play fetch with him. The snuggles will help, too!

Welcome, Lincoln! You are lucky to have stumbled into Anna and Kevin's view and to have found your way to the McBee family, but I'll bet we're luckier that you found us.

Lincoln in his silver velvet bow tie
Christmas Night 2012

Merry Christmas to you and yours!

The Land of Oz

Our Oz population is growing. Last year, Dasher and I went as the Wicked Witch and one of her  Flying Monkeys. This year, we added Dorothy and her pal the Scarecrow. Maybe next year we'll enlist a Lion and a Tin Man.

Halloween 2012

We only had a few seconds to get a quick photograph before the dogs bolted to shake their costumes off. You can see there that Dasher is already eyeing the escape route. We did manage to get a close-up of Gracie's take on Dorothy for your enjoyment:

Gracie as Dorothy
Halloween 2012

She is not thrilled with this plan. Too bad! Check out that wig. Trick-or-treaters loved her!

A Pound Puppy

Sometimes I think Dasher has forgotten his previous life. He puts his puppy head on the pillows and spreads out on the sofa so as to leave now room for anyone else.

Dreaming of chasing cats
October 2012

He turns his nose up at treats that are not the fancy-shmancy chicken jerky at the expensive all-natural, organic pet supply shop.

"Dry squares of tasteless cardboard? Simply insulting."
October 2012

But, then he reminds me that he does appreciate his new life and all that we do for him when he holds my hand so sweetly while we ride along on a lovely fall afternoon.

Nosey!
October 2012

Sub-Par Treats

Sep 24, 2012

This guy used to be homeless. Now he turns his nose up at treats that are not chicken jerky.

You Stink.

One lovely Sunday at the lake, the rain began to pour. Buckets, I tell you. So, in the interest of preventing muddy dogs for the drive home, we put all six dogs in the garage and closed the door. Somebody went into the garage for ice and came back to report that the furry guys had gotten into the garbage. 

Oh geez. Well, it's better than mud, right?

Wrong.

Dasher came galloping into the living room, a smile on his face, tongue hanging out and REEKING of what smelled like dead, rotting fish. He came at me like he was going to give me a nice, big, juicy fish kiss, but before he could, I sent him to the bathtub for a detox.

Grandpa said he'd had tuna fish a couple days ago, and Dasher must have discovered the remnants. We all agreed that must be the root of the smell and had a good laugh over it.

On Monday, Grandma emailed. Yes, there was tuna fish in the garbage, but Dasher didn't get into it. He chewed a bottle of deer repellent and do I know what the main ingredient in deer repellent is? 

Do you know what the main ingredient is in deer repellent?

BEAR URINE.

Dog Run

I'm a runner, and Dasher usually runs with me. It's a great way to expend some of his young-dog energy. Last week, I ran the Peachtree Road Race in my beloved hometown of Atlanta. Sixty thousand people run the race, and there just isn't any room for pets. In lieu of Dasher's presence, I wore this shirt:

Shirt from johnshipe.com

I bought the shirt from John Shipe, a musician in Oregon who happens to have a pit bull. He knows the bad rap his pal gets, and he decided to write a song called "Pit Bull Blues" about the undue stereotyping. Watch the video on YouTube - you'll love the message!


Although Dasher did not run with me, he did run with all of his doggie friends. All. Day. Long. They played so much that he and his best friend slept all the way home to Knoxville. They started the trip like this:

Gracie and Dasher snoozing in the backseat
July 4, 2012

By the end of the car ride, they had ended up this way:

They're a pack all to themselves!

I'm a proud doggie mama and will most definitely hang a framed copy of this one on the wall.

Chew Love

I've mentioned once before that Dasher despises baths. The entire idea of water pretty much repulses him. So, to reward him for letting my wash him, he gets a special treat afterwards. I'd say it's worth it, and I bet he agrees.

That rawhide is as big as he is!

Look at his wagging tail!

I love when they use their paws like little hands.

A Sunday Swim

Against his wishes, Dasher endured yet another swimming lesson yesterday. We went to the lake earlier than usual so the water would be relatively still and there would be no other dog or human distractions. We hung out on the shore, easing ourselves away from the edge a little bit at a time. The first step from the solid rock beneath his feet gave Dasher a little surprise, but he began paddling. And paddle, he did. Right back to the rocks and out of the water. 


We called, and he returned. I think he's hating it a little less. We repeated this exercise a few more times. Then he became really reluctant to return, so we took a break. Other dogs and humans had arrived by that point, so we loaded everybody up in the boat and took a ride. Dasher was the first the jump on board. He loves the boat! He must not understand that the boat is in the water, and he might have to swim in anything went awry. He sits regally on the seat as he watched the shore whoosh by us. It's the ultimate head-out-of-the-car-window feeling.


Later in the day, Dasher's favorite human dude had a brilliant idea. Let's try him on a float! When I beckoned him to the dock stairs, he attempted to divert our attention by trying to jump back on the boat. It did not work, and I eventually got him to step onto the float with minimal resistance. A huge step forward in my book. It took some convincing to get him to sit, and then lay, on the float, but we were successful in the end. Dasher wasn't shaking and seemed only marginally afraid, mostly when I walked out of sight to grab the camera.


Then, as proof of our progress, we asked Dasher to swim to the dock from about twenty feet out, and he did! He attempted to get onto the dock where there were no stairs, so we still have some learning to do, but I'm feeling more confident that we'll get there someday soon.

"I will never understand humans. Where is the joy in this? Where is the dirt? Where are the rawhides?"
June 2012

"Alright. It's cool as long as you just hang out right there and pet me. I guess we can work this out."
June 2012

"What are you doing?! I told you to stay right here. Where are you going? You can't breathe under there, you know."
June 2012

"Huh. This is kind of relaxing. Not so bad after all. Hey, will someone throw me a bone?"
June 2012

Riding in Cars with Canines

When Dasher found me, I had recently embarked on a long-distance relationship. He and I traveled 6-hour round-trips every other weekend, so Dasher had to quickly adapt to life in the car. Like any good car dog, he enjoys sticking his head out the window. Once we're on the interstate, though, rawhides and naps are key. I once neglected to throw a rawhide in the backseat before a trip, and, lo and behold, Dasher took to gnawing on a seatbelt. You can bet I no longer make that mistake. Another example of dogs teaching their owners.


We have since moved and are a mere ten minutes from our favorite human dude. Now, Dasher's car rides are shorter, and he gets to hang out in the car when I run errands. He whiles away the wait napping.

Car napping
June 2012

 And he usually has this disappointed look on his face upon my return:

Dasher doesn't know why storeowners don't accept dogs.
June 2012

We do take longer trips with our furry friend, Gracie, when we go to the lake. Dasher gets so excited that we're going somewhere (it might be the lake!!!) that he wears himself out. Gracie doesn't mind when he falls asleep in any ol' spot.

Puppy Pals
May 2012

No matter where we're going or when, Dasher is thrilled. He has come to love car rides and often jumps in any open car door he sees. Today he got a special surprise when his favorite human dude came to take him out of that silly crate for a car ride. Where are they going?! Not sure, but Dasher hopes there will be bacon.

Oh my!
June 2012

Ignorance is Fright

In some cases, ignorance is bliss. We all enjoyed our Starbucks mocha-choca lattés a lot more before we found out there was bug protein in them. Other times, ignorance begets fear. The word "ignorance" isn't exactly fitting. It's more "acceptance without verification", but that's awfully lengthy. Humans have a tendency to outsource their thoughts when things are murky and complicated. We like definitive answers, so when someone proclaims one, we hop on board. Take Jenny McCarthy's posit that inoculation against disease caused her son to contract Autism. Moms and dads all over the country, afraid of the threat of Autism, did not get their children vaccinated. If these parents had done proper research, they would have learned that Autism is not a virus that can be transmitted. It's a genetic disorder. You're born with it or you're not. Fast-forward a few years, and the doctor who claimed the vaccination-Autism correlation admitted he fabricated the data and had financial motivations. Oddly, parents are still hell-bent on not vaccinating their kids. And now there is whooping cough in the Western part of the US.


This concept applies to Pit Bulls. A few bad apples have ruined the bunch. Instead of listening to the whole story on Pit Bulls, the original American family pet, many people have hopped on the bad news wagon. Their confirmation bias has forced them to focus on the sad stories of owners who have untoward agendas. They freeze or move aside when they encounter a Pit Bull in public spaces. They are afraid, and they shouldn't be.


 If enough of us pervade the public with happy tales of our pals, we might be able to shift the attitude. Here's one pooch we encountered at Bark in the Park, a fundraising event for the Humane Society of the Tennessee Valley:

Bird Dog
June 2012

He just hangs out and walks along, nary a false move, with his bird buddy hitching a ride. And who could not love this face?

Sad face
June 2012

Maybe those who know why he had his sad, puppy-dog, sorry-mom eyes?

Bad Dog
June 2012

Dasher's new favorite weekday pastime is knocking his crate over and pushing the table and chairs as far as he can. Sometimes he manages to get them on their sides, too. Where do they come up with this stuff?!

Friday Fun in the Sun

It's Friday, and the sun is shining! I basked in the glory of it all by going home during lunch to throw the ball around with Dasher-y-doo. Fetch is a newly found fun-time for this big guy. For the past year and a half, he has run after the ball when I've thrown it, rarely picked it up and never brought it back. I decided he was easily distracted and that he just isn't a fetch kinda dog. Then about a week ago he brought me the ball back, unsolicited! I did an enormous amount of energetic encouraging, and the concept seems to have stuck.

The pounce portion of Fetch.
June 2012

Somehow Dasher already knew "Drop It". No lesson required. He is gentle with the ball as he runs back to me and when he drops it to the ground. Sometimes he lays down to idly gnash on it, but he is careful not to tear it. That is a huge improvement from the first tennis ball I ever threw for him. He ran after it, picked it up and promptly began pulverizing it.

Drop It was the easy part.
June 2012

Fetch never lasts too long. A few throws, and Dasher has had enough. It's hot, he's tired and there might be critters to chase at any moment. He needs to save his energy for this potential circumstance, so he finds his way to the shade and usually gets a belly rub. Today, he let one of his best human friends adorn him with leaves. Why adorn him with leaves? I'm not sure. 

He's Greek!
June 2012

This leaf endeavor went on for about ten minutes, and Dasher didn't do so much as raise his head. He just didn't care. He wasn't asleep. He just simply wasn't bothered and, so, had no interest in what was going on with this silly human and the leaves. I am pleased by his response because it's an indicator of how he'll react when children try to do goofy things to him. Dasher didn't start out particularly interested in children when they came up to pet him. He has either sat completely still and let them do their thing or turned away to show he wasn't really feeling it. Lately, though, he's been a bit more proactive with kids. I think he's figured out they usually have some tasty bits on their faces because his favorite place to interact with them is at the ice cream shop. They pet, he licks their faces and everyone is happy, myself included. Another indicator that Pit Bulls are just dogs like any other, whose behavior is influenced by its upbringing and not its breed.

Water Wary

We spend a lot of time here:

A portion of the people and dogs who spend Sundays on the lake.
April 2011

Dasher loves boat rides but would rather not deal with the water. Not a sustainable outlook on lake life. I'd like him to be a superior swimmer in case anything were to happen and so he can join his best furry friend in all the fun!

Gracie goes crazy for fetching in the lake!
April 2011

Dasher has become comfortable enough to walk among the rocks at the shoreline. He even lets us pour handfuls of water on his fur. But, as soon as we coax him into swimming, he goes into panic mode, flailing his paws at the air and the water so frantically that he makes huge splashes that inhibit us from helping him. He heads straight for the dock and attempts to climb aboard in places without stairs. During the latest lake attempt, he stopped paddling in order to hoist himself onto the dock and instead went under water! Poor guy. We called it a day at that point and decided a little excursion at the pool might be a better introduction to swimming.

So last night, that's what we did. We hung out on the steps with Dasher for a couple minutes to get him warmed up to the whole experience. As soon as we brought him off the steps, he began to paddle his crazy paddle and head straight for the side of the pool. We repeated this exercise a few times with the same result. By that point, Dasher was worn out and a little frightened of another go of it, and I had stinging scratches from errant paws. I left feeling dejected and wondering what our next step should be.

Internet advice suggests kiddie pool beginnings, life jackets, tons of treats (apparently cooked hot dogs float), a calm environment and plenty of positive reinforcement. This weekend we will try again at the lake without other dogs to distract us or people playing in the water. The most important thing we can teach right now is probably where to get out. Dasher needs to know to go to those locations for a safe and easy exit from the water. Maybe that will relax him and free him up to have some fun! In the meantime, he's pretty relaxed on land:

Dasher, post-pool escapade. Too tired to put his ear down!
June 2012

Delicious & Nutritious

Choosing a dog food brand was serious business for me. I wanted to give my new pal the healthiest life I could. My goal: maximize nutrition and minimize payout. I did some internet research (is there any other kind these days?), and I learned that the first five listed ingredients should be meats and grains that I can pronounce. Meat should be first, preferably plain ol' meat, but meal would do and by-product would not. Supplemental dye of any kind is just a silly addition - the dog isn't going to turn up his nose because of aesthetics.


I found the best bang for my buck in Rachael Ray's Nutrish. Not only did it meet all of my criteria, it's also out there saving more doggies like Dasher! Rachael Ray gives her pet product proceeds to canine rescues around the country. One recipient is BAD RAP, a Pit Bull rescue group in the San Francisco Bay Area that has me considering a move or beginning a pit rescue of my own in the Southeast. Nutrish has continued to please me. Amid dog food & treat contamination scares from Chinese factories, Nutrish has continued its careful production in a family-owned factory here in the US of A. Less worries for me and yummy grub for Dasher. He and his pals gobble it up, so it must be tasty, too!
                               

Publix and Kroger carry the Nutrish line, as do other box stores. Find a store near you! 

Books to Love a Dog By

A few of my friends rescued pit bull puppies this weekend, and I reflected upon the start of my pit bull story.  The first night I brought Dasher home, he looked like this:

Dasher, Day One
December 2010

So skinny, but so happy to have found his forever home! I had already purchased a doggy bed, and he promptly took up residence on it. I laid down with him and gave him some good-dog pets. And then I cried. It was a little bit of relief for having saved him from his previous life and a little bit of "Oh dear God, what have I done?". No turning back, though. This was a done deal. We had a bit of a rough start - there was some bad-dog chewing and barking. Then, a couple weeks into our journey, we were lucky enough to be shut indoors during a snow storm due to Atlanta's poor winter preparedness strategy. Dasher and I played in the snow (one of us fell a few times), and we napped together on the sofa. I also managed to read this book:

                                

Alexandra Horowitz, a psychology professor in New York City, wrote 'Inside of a Dog'. In it, she tells us what dogs think and how they make decisions. The knowledge was supremely helpful as I tried to decipher Dasher's desires. The most valuable takeaway was the importance of a dog's nose. That's how he learns about his surroundings and what drives a large portion of his decisions. Horowitz speaks about the value of what she calls a "smell walk". Dasher and I take walks where the only objective is to smell stuff. We're not a mission to burn energy or evacuate the morning bowl of kibble. If those things happen, great! But we're really just out to smell. Horowitz likened this exercise to a human needing to use the brain to remain alert and active in other facets of life. Since I read her book to remain alert and active in my dog facet of life, it's only fair that Dasher gets to smell things so he can be alert and active in the human facet of his life. After all, we're always demanding things of our dogs, and I imagine it's exhausting trying to figure out what exactly those crazy commands mean!

   

Fast forward a year and a half. Dasher plays outside while I read 'A Dog's Journey' by W. Bruce Cameron. It's a sequel to 'A Dog's Purpose', which I read last year. The books are told from a continually-reincarnated pooch's point of view. The story is touching, heartwarming, happy, sad, frustrating, and elevating. Read with a box of tissues and your furry friend nearby.

I did.

Dasher wishes I was petting his head instead of reading a book.
June 2012

Onto the next book. Jim Gorant's 'The Lost Dogs: Michael Vick's Dogs and Their Tale of Rescue and Redemption'. I have only read the introduction, and I can already tell I'll need that box of tissues back.

                   

                                         

Dasher the Dog

Pal.
Buddy.
Pally Pal.
Pit bull.
Dasher-y-oo.
Bud.
Boo Boo.
GET DOWN! 


That last one might be from his point of view. Meet my dog. Real name Dasher. He graced me with his companionship at Christmastime, earning his reindeer name.

Dasher, the Georgia Red-Clay Nosed Reindog

He's a "lab / boxer mix" according to his papers but a pit bull according to, well, anyone who looks at him. He enjoys chewing rawhides, chasing critters, catching flies, giving kisses and, as you can see, digging. He hates baths. He makes a squeaky sound when he yawns. He laps up the ice cream and leaves the milk bone when we go to the local creamery.


He's a regular dog with regular quirks who sometimes gets treated unfairly because of his breed's bad rap. Dasher and I are here to dispel the disillusionment with Pit Bulls.


Welcome and happy tails to you!

The Catalyst

I took Dasher to get his shots today. Here is a narrative of our experience:

(Dasher is sitting quietly with his tail between his legs, shaking.)

Vet Tech: "Does he bite?"

Me: "No."

Vet Tech: "Okay, I'm going to put a muzzle on him. He looks like a fear biter."

The vet tech applies the muzzle with no resistance from Dasher. He then draws blood and administers two shots. Not a peep from Dasher. No raised hair. No snarling. No growling. No whining. No crying. No movement beyond shaking.

He is not a fear biter. Do you know what his fear response was? He pooped on the vet tech.