Author: Paul Handover

A rescue, with a twist!

Connections!

Just recently, on the 20th to be precise, I added a comment to the ‘About’ page of the blog: Beyond The Flow.

This is what I wrote”

Hi Rowena, I’m the author of the blog Learning from Dogs and recently one of my followers “RoughseasintheMed” recommended one of your posts: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2016/09/19/a-different-type-of-rescue-dog/
Apart from the pleasure in making the connection, I would love to have your permission to republish your post over on LfD.
Look forward to hearing from you.

Paul H.

Rowena is a blogger, mother and wife and explains a little about her blog, thus:

Beyond the Flow documents our journey through life’s ups and downs from a fairly philosophical and hopefully humourous perspective so hopefully you’ll laugh, cry and think a bit as you share in our adventures.
Based on the Australian East-Coast just North of Sydney, this motley cast and crew features:
Myself-Rowena
Anyway, Rowena very promptly offered me permission and it is my pleasure to republish this wonderful account of a Newfoundland (the dog that is not the country).
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newfoundlanddogstampA Different Type of Rescue Dog.

Welcome to Rumford, Maine where we’re chatting with ferry master Jerry Putnam and his dog, Major beside the Androscoggin River. Major is a New Foundland or “Newfie” and while I’m used to big dogs, Major is more like a bear crossed with a tank and yet he’s very friendly.

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Androscoggin River, New Hampshire, sadly renowned for its poor water quality.

Please be advised that you’ll be needing to set you watch back more than just a couple of hours to join me on this trip. You see, we’re traveling back to 1885 or thereabouts to hear this tale.  By the way, I apologise if the details get a little sketchy on this trip. You see, I’ve never been to America and I’ve never seen a Newfoundland dog beyond Googles images. However, I’ve never let that stop me from spinning a yarn before and it won’t stop me now. I stumbled across this story online in a small Australian country newspaper from 1885. I have no idea how it found its way there but it seems that after all these years, I’ll be sending the story all the way back to Rumford, Maine where I hope it finds a new home.

As you might be aware Newfoundlands are excellent and enthusiastic swimmers and are famed as the lifesavers of the sea. Indeed, there have even been some famous and very impressive rescues carried out by Newfoundlands:

  • In 1881 in Melbourne, Australia, a Newfoundland named Nelson helped rescue Thomas Brown, a cab driver who was swept away by flood waters in Swanston Street on the night of 15 November. While little is known about what became of Nelson, a copper dog collar engraved with his name has survived and 130 years after the rescue it was acquired by the National Museum of Australia and is now part of the National Historical Collection.
  • In the early 20th century, a dog that is thought to have been a Newfoundland saved 92 people who were on the SS Ethie which was wrecked off the Northern Peninsula of Newfoundland during a blizzard. The dog retrieved a rope thrown out into the turbulent waters by those on deck, and brought the rope to shore to people waiting on the beach. A breeches buoy was attached to the rope, and all those aboard the ship were able to get across to the shore including an infant in a mailbag. Wreckage of the ship can still be seen in Gros Morne National Park. E. J. Pratt‘s poem, “Carlo”, in the November 1920 issue of The Canadian Forum commemorates this dog.
  • In 1995, a 10-month-old Newfoundland named Boo saved a hearing-impaired man from drowning in the Yuba River in Northern California. The man fell into the river while dredging for gold. Boo noticed the struggling man as he and his owner were walking along the river. The Newfoundland instinctively dove into the river, took the drowning man by the arm, and brought him to safety. According to Janice Anderson, the Newfoundland’s breeder, Boo had received no formal training in water rescue.

You can watch some Newfoundlands going through their rescue paces here:

By now,  I’m sure I’ve whetted your appetites sufficiently and you’re all just longing to find out what Major did. What act of great heroism plucked this ordinary dog out of obscurity and onto the pages of a distant Australian newspaper?

newfoundlandHowever, there’s an exception to every rule. Just because some dog’s profiles read like a brochure from the Kennel Club, there’s always an exception. Just as people don’t like being categorized, stereotyped or told how they should conform to type, dogs can be much the same.Not that Major almost drowned but he did have a different interpretation of what constitutes a “rescue”.

Or, did he?

After all, what constitutes a rescue? Is it just about saving that drowning person from the surging waters? Or, is it also about encouraging someone to overcome their fear of drowning,  let go of the edge and finally learn to swim? What if that person doesn’t respond to “encouragement”? Is it okay to add a bit of persuasion? A nudge? A tug or even the proverbial cattle prod?

Well, you don’t need to ask Major. When it came to helping his canine counterpart overcome his fear, he was a Dog of Action with no time for philosophising, desensitization or phoning a friend. When a brindle hound was too scared to swim out to its owner on the ferry and was howling on the shore, Major grabbed it by the scruff and threw it in the water so it either had to sink or swim.

You’ve got to laugh and who hasn’t been tempted to do that to someone we know, but a bit of compassion doesn’t go astray either.

So, even if another dog is having a full blown panic attack about getting their precious paws wet, you don’t grab him by the scruff and throw him in the drink. After all, most breeds of dog don’t have a Newfoundland’s webbed paws, innate love of swimming and other special design features. They chase sheep.

I’m not putting my paws in there!
I’m not putting my paws in there!

Of course, this includes the Border Collie. While our last Border Collie loves chasing sticks through the surf, Bilbo rarely gets his paws wet and it’s taken a lot of angst for him to get to the point where he sometimes now retrieves his ball out of the wash on the beach.

Indeed, Bilbo has had a few newsworthy water avoidances and he could well have been cast as that miserable mutt Major threw into the river.

Finally some assistance. Miss puts Bilbo out of his misery!
Finally some assistance. Miss puts Bilbo out of his misery!

A few years ago, when Bilbo saw us all kayaking from the backyard at Palm Beach, he also started howling and fretting just like that other poor hound. Bilbo chewed through the back gate, jumped the back fence and we were about a kilometre from home when we looked out and kids said: “Someone else has a Border Collie”. As we paddled closer, our fears were confirmed. It was our freaked out mutt, giving us the paw: “What do you think you’re doing going out there on that crazy contraption? OMG!!!! You could fall in. Drown!!!! Then, who’s going to feed me?” His heart was racing. He was puffing. The dog was a wreck…so was the gate!

I would never have thrown Bilbo into the water to get him used to it. Yet, over time, he accidentally fell in the pool chasing his ball. He also fell out of the kayak and took our son into the water with him. That could’ve been nasty because he tried grabbing on to Mister which could’ve pulled him under. However, through all of this knockabout exposure and by being part of our family, Bilbo isn’t quite so anxious anymore. He’s stepped out and started filling out those paws, becoming a brave dog.

Meanwhile, here’s the original newspaper story about Major:

A Dog Story.

When Jerry Putnam had charge of the ferry at Rumford, Me., over the Androscoggin River, he owned one of the handsomest Newfoundland dogs I ever saw, and the dog was as intelligent as he was handsome. Like all of his kind, he was fond of the water, and further than that,  he manifested an absolute contempt for those of his species who shrank from the aqueous element, and it is of one of those contemptuous manifestations that I wish to tell, for I was there and saw.

The ferryboats, of various sizes, to accommodate different burdens, were impelled by means of a stout cable stretched from shore to shore, as that was the only device by which the heavy boats could be kept to their course in times of strong currents, and during seasons of freshet I have seen a current there that was wonderful.

One warm summer day, while a few of us were sitting in the shade of an old apple tree, between Jerry’s house and the river, two gentlemen, with implements for hunting and fishing, came down to be set across, and straightway one of the boys went to answer the call. He selected a light gondola, the two gentlemen stepped onboard, and very soon they were off ; but before they had got far away from the shore a common brindle house dog came rushing down upon the landing, where he stood and barked and howled furiously— furiously at first, and then piteously.

The boat was stopped, and from the signs made we judged that the strange dog belonged to one of the passengers. Yes, the owner was calling to him to come.

‘Come Ponto! Come !Come! ‘

But Ponto didn’t seem inclined to obey. Instead of taking to the water, he stood there, on the edge of the landing, and howled and yelped louder than before.

Presently old Major — our Newfoundland; who had been lying at our feet, got up and took a survey of the scene. Jerry said only this—’What is it, Major! What dy’e think of it?”

The dog looked around at his master, and seemed to answer that he was thoroughly disgusted. And then he started for the boat-landing — started just as the boy in the boat, at the earnest solicitation of his passenger, had begun to pull back. With  dignified step, Major made his way down upon the landing, proceeded directly to the yelping cur, took him by the nape of the neck; and threw him — he did not drop him — but gave him a vigorous, hearty throw, far out into the water ; and when he had done that he stood his ground as though to prevent the noisy, cowardly animal from landing. He stood there until he had seen the cur turn and swim towards the boat — until he had been taken on board by his master— after which he faced about, with military dignity and precision, and came back to his place beneath the apple tree.

— N. Y. Ledger.

The Burrowa News (NSW : 1874 – 1951) Friday 13 March 1885 p 3 Article

Have you ever been to Rumford, Maine or had any experiences with Newfoundlander Dogs? We’d love to hear your tales!

xx Rowena

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Let me add to Rowena’s wish to hear your experiences with Newfoundland Dog’s, or any other dogs!

Life Lessons from Maggie

But not before I celebrate this:

The September equinox marks the moment the Sun crosses the celestial equator – the imaginary line in the sky above the Earth’s equator – from north to south and vice versa in March.

That moment is at precisely 14:21 UTC today, September 22nd. Welcome to Autumn, or Fall in American speak!

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I was contacted by Susan Leighton recently offering me a guest post. Susan is a regular follower of this place and frequently drops in with responses and comments. Susan is also the founder of the blog: Woman on the Ledge (I can recommend her blog, by the way!)

Here is Susan’s guest post.

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Life Lessons from Maggie

I have walked this earth for fifty years and I have been a proud dog parent several times over. My latest child is an incredibly exuberant eight-year-old Boston Terrier named Maggie. Maggie Mae’s Up, Up, and Away is her full name. My husband and I got her in New Mexico which is the site of a world famous hot air balloon festival so hence the nod to the 5th Dimensions song.
Maggie was actually a surprise. I was going through an exceptionally rough time (unfortunately it was the beginning of several trying years) and my husband thought that she would cheer me up. The moment she was placed in my arms, a love affair and deep bond began. I looked into her expressive brown eyes and knew that I had just met my canine BFF.
When she was a puppy, we had a bit of a health scare with her. She was diagnosed with a severe case of giardia. The medication we were given to combat the illness wasn’t working. Our vet decided to treat her with a round of shots. It was touch and go for a few days but she came through with flying colors.
From an early age, she was our little toughie. Small in stature, she refused to let her bigger sisters get the best of her. Their long legs might have surpassed hers but she never gave up and would constantly compete to be number one in back yard games.
Dogs are amazing creatures. They are incredibly intuitive and sometimes I think they just might be smarter than us. In the years that I have been privileged to know Maggie she has taught me many life lessons. I would like to share some of that knowledge with you.

Every day is an adventure – don’t be a slave to routine. Maggie definitely isn’t one. Yesterday, she had an impromptu game of keep away with her stuffed animal. Today she was feeling like playing tug of war with her rope. Try something new. Even if you work 8 hours a day, you can still incorporate little surprises into your schedule. Maybe you always eat the same lunch every day. Change it up. Instead of that boring sandwich, opt for a salad or even a taco! Have a break between meetings or conference calls? Go outside and take a brisk walk for 10 minutes. Every day is new, treat it that way!

Make time to play – you know what I dislike the most about being an adult next to paying bills? I miss not having recess. That was my favorite time of the day when I was a kid. School stopped for an hour and I could run around with my friends and have fun. Why is it that we lose our sense of play when we grow older? Maggie has helped me to realize that it is possible to metaphorically return to the school yard. Every day we go outside and play catch in the back yard. Not only is it good bonding time for us but it is also a chance for me to relax and let go of the stress of the day.

Love unconditionally – this seems simple right? It really isn’t. So many people make it their mission to change the ones they love. Their significant other has a personality quirk that is less than endearing, why not try to lessen it or eliminate it altogether? I understand that life is about compromise but at the expense of not being able to be comfortable in your own skin? Maggie has been with me through many changes and throughout those changes, she has done nothing but support me. She loves me if I am having a bad hair day or if I have gained a few pounds. She loves the real me blemishes and all!

Be curious – whenever we take Maggie on a jaunt to the local pet store, she is more than willing to approach other dogs and other people. She wants to know more about everything in life. I jokingly tell her that she suffers from FOMO (fear of missing out) because she wants to be involved in every activity. I guess this is why I challenge myself to learn about new technologies, new books, new music, etc. The more engaged I feel, the more alive I am. I have never stopped learning.

Give thanks – whenever Maggie is presented with food, a treat, her ball, a toy, she is thankful. She is just glad that she is able to enjoy these things but mostly she is thrilled that she gets to have time with her family. As the years pass by, I am acutely aware of how tenuous life is and how in the blink of an eye, the people that we cherish may not be around for us to tell them how much we value their presence in our life. I make it a point to let the people closest to me know that I am thankful for them each and every day.

Hug your dog and let him or her know how grateful you are for the life lessons that they have shared with you. That is what I will be doing with Maggie. I could not have asked for a better teacher.

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No more words from me – just this picture!

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CBD Oil feedback

Just wanted to share our early results with you.

Back on the 13th September, I published a post under the title of Listening to our pets in more difficult times. I mentioned that Pharaoh was suffering pain in his rear hip joints and struggling at times to get up on all four feet and that we had started giving him Rimadyl.

One of the subsequent comments was from Pets, People, And Life who wrote:

Don’t wait around for a vet to tell you that your dog is in pain. You live in a state with legal MJ plus hemp oil is legal in all 50 states. I give CBD oil to my BC X Aussie 12 year old dog. He could not get up and yelped in pain before I began giving him 0.7ml daily that I drizzle over his food., After second dose he could stand up without help. Now he walks and runs with fluid movements of all limbs. It is totally safe and doesn’t require expensive tests, The danger of Rimadyl and other meds in that class used to treat arthritis, is that these types of meds cause kidney damage and your pet will have a shortened life span. Hemp oil works like a charm with no side effects.

We did some research and came across the following brand of Hemp (CBD) Oil specifically for dogs. We ordered it and it arrived last Saturday. Jean did not delay in adding* it twice a day to the food for both Pharaoh and Paloma.

p1160480Here we are at the end of Tuesday, at the time of writing this post, and already we can see observable improvements in both dogs.

Yes, it’s early days but I wanted to share this with you now.

There will be a more extensive report from me once these dogs have been using the oil for a few weeks.

  • One dropperful twice a day for Pharaoh, approx. 105 lbs, and half a dropperful twice a day for Paloma, approx. 45 lbs.

Listening furry ears!

Returning to the fascinating topic of how dogs understand us humans.

At the beginning of the month I published a post called Be Careful What You Say. It featured an item on BBC Radio Four regarding the science report from a team in Hungary seeking better to understand how dogs process human vocal sounds, as in speech. (The science report was rapidly featured in many other media outlets.)

Anyway, I am delighted to say that the Rights & Permissions Department of the AAAS pointed out that:

Virginia’s article is freely available on our open news website (http://www.sciencemag.org/news)  so rather than post, please link to it (http://www.sciencemag.org/news/2016/08/video-your-dog-understands-more-you-think). Your site visitors will encounter no barriers to viewing the article on our website.  We welcome hyperlinks to Science articles provided a plain text link is used and providing our content is not framed. We also ask that the text surrounding the hyperlink not imply any endorsement of your website, products or services by AAAS/Science.

The article, written by Virginia Morell, primarily features a video (see below) but I will just republish Virginia’s opening paragraphs.

Video: Your dog understands more than you think

 

It’s the eternal question for pet owners: Does your dog understand what you’re saying? Even if Fido doesn’t “get” your words, surely he gets your tone when you let loose about another accident on the carpet. But a new imaging study shows that dogs’ brains respond to actual words, not just the tone in which they’re said. The study will likely shake up research into the origins of language, scientists say, as well as gratify dog lovers.

“It’s an important study that shows that basic aspects of speech perception can be shared with quite distant relatives,” says Tecumseh Fitch, a cognitive biologist at the University of Vienna, who was not involved in the work.

It’s not a long article but for any dog lover it is a most interesting read.

So here’s that video.

Virginia concludes her article, thus:

The new results add to scientists’ knowledge of how canine brains process human speech. Dogs have brain areas dedicated to interpreting voices, distinguishing sounds (in the left hemisphere), and analyzing the sounds that convey emotions (in the right hemisphere).

The finding “doesn’t mean that dogs understand everything we say,” says Julie Hecht, who studies canine behavior and cognition at City University of New York in New York City and who was not involved in the study. “But our words and intonations are not meaningless to dogs.” Fitch hopes that similar studies will be done on other domestic animals and on human-raised wolves to see how much of this ability is hardwired in dogs and how much is due to growing up among talking humans.

What a wonderful relationship dogs and humans have with each other!

Positive reinforcement.

And I’m speaking of dog training.

p1160472Over the week-end Jean and I were down in Medford at this event promoting my book Learning from Dogs.

Inevitably, we saw many dogs and their owners come in to the store for we were positioned just inside the main door. Likewise, inevitably we saw a whole range of ‘relationships’ between those dogs and their human companions.

It reminded me of a recent TED Talk that was given by Ian Dunbar about dog training. For those who have not previously come across Mr. Dunbar, his bio reads as follows:

Veterinarian, dog trainer and animal behaviorist Ian Dunbar has written numerous books, including How to Teach a New Dog Old Tricks and The Good Little Dog Book. He has also hosted several award-winning videotapes on puppy and dog training.

So here’s that brilliant TED Talk.

Uploaded on Aug 21, 2008

http://www.ted.com Speaking at the 2007 EG conference, trainer Ian Dunbar asks us to see the world through the eyes of our beloved dogs. By knowing our pets’ perspective, we can build their love and trust. It’s a message that resonates well beyond the animal world.

Veterinarian, dog trainer and animal behaviorist Ian Dunbar understands our pets’ point of view. By training dog owners in proper conduct (as much as he trains the dogs themselves), he hopes to encourage better relationships with dogs — not to mention their friends and children, too.

Why you should listen

We may call dogs man’s best friend, but according to Dr. Ian Dunbar, humans often fail to reciprocate. Dunbar’s decades of research on hierarchical social behavior and aggression in domestic animals truly give him a dog’s-eye view of human beings’ incomprehensible and spontaneous — if involuntary — cruelties.
Dunbar says we might break our unseemly, unflattering habits and usher in an “era of dog-friendly dog training” by coming to understand why dogs do what they do — Is Fido misbehaving, or just being a dog? — and the repercussions of our actions toward them. (We might foster better relationships with our fellow humans, too.) His Sirius Dog Training company focuses on training puppies to be playful, yet well-behaved. His second organization, Animalin, promotes games for dogs and puppies at an international level.

What others say

“There is no single person on the face of the planet to whom dog trainers and owners (not to mention dogs) owe more.” — Jean Donaldson, author, The Culture Clash

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I will close with another photograph from the PetSmart event.

p1160469(Sorry about the cardboard boxes under the table!)

Picture Parade One Hundred and Sixty-Four

Thought today’s picture parade should carry an Autumnal theme!

All these photographs of the deer, wild turkeys and the Harvest Moon were taken at home last Thursday. (NB: The turkeys were born on our property this last Spring.)

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I sincerely hope that wherever you are in the world, assuming the Northern Hemisphere, you are having an evocative and peaceful Autumn, or Fall in American speak! (Barb – or Spring in ‘Down Under’ speak!)

And Another Saturday Smile

Enjoy your weekend, and don’t miss the Harvest Moon!

Another fabulous reposting of an article that first was seen on the Care2 site.

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This Man May Wear a Hard Hat, But He Sure Has a Soft Spot for Dogs

3188741-largeBy: Laura S. September 11, 2016

Max Kahrimanovic lives in his hard hat. It’s covered in the dust of three continents where he programs wind turbines, often at a dangerous height. But some may say Max’s greatest accomplishments unfold in the far less intricate scenarios down on the ground where he feeds hungry, and often very thirsty, stray dogs. This is the story of how Max won the trust of one of those dogs and the remarkable new life she is now beginning.

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So close he could kiss the clouds, Max programs wind turbines internationally.

“I saw her the very first day I came to the construction site,” Max said of the shy sweetheart he encountered during his latest assignment in Turkey. “She was scared and wouldn’t approach no matter what. I would leave food and would have to walk away. Then, from the far, I would see her eating and drinking what I left for her. Slowly she started to trust me and one day she finally let me pet her on the head.”

From that day forward Karis (as Max named her) decided that she had adopted Max. She would keep watch outside his office door and she would be waiting for him when he arrived at work each morning.

Although she was once so afraid of human touch, Karis soon learned that Max was different than the others she’d encountered.
Although she was once so afraid of human touch, Karis soon learned that Max was different than the others she’d encountered.

“She can be naughty at times,” Max laughs, thinking of the occasions Karis dumped over the trash cans. “She wasn’t hungry, I know that much. I was feeding her three times a day. But I guess the leftovers smelled delicious to her and she had to check it out.”

And one day, when Max arrived, Karis had a surprise for him. Overnight, she had delivered seven puppies.

“My first thought was devastation,” Max said candidly. “I know, you’ll think how can I be devastated seeing so much cuteness. But in all these years of traveling through Europe, Morocco, New Zealand, etc. I’ve seen so much misery involving these animals, that I couldn’t feel anything else at that moment.”

At this point, Max had already found a home for Karis in the U.S. and was making arrangements to transport her there. But with seven more lives to worry about, now what?

“How are we gonna manage 7 pups too?” Max wondered. “Knowing what will happen to them after I leave was devastating. I knew they will either die under car wheels, die of starvation, diseases or they will get killed by other bigger dogs that wander around there.”

So, despite the enormity of the costs and challenging logistics, Max and his wife Neli – back in Sweden – began making arrangements to transport the entire family of dogs to the U.S. for adoption. They turned to the Harmony Fund international animal rescue charity for help with the costs of the rescue.

The whole family will be coming to the U.S. soon, and Karis already has a permanent home with one of Max’s friends who has adopted internationally before. Max has no doubt that Karis will be very good to her pups during the transition as she has always been such an excellent mother.

Karis and her pups were moved to a safe location where they await travel to the U.S.
Karis and her pups were moved to a safe location where they await travel to the U.S.

“When she had the puppies, I admired how she never went to eat their food that I gave them,” Max said. “She waited for me to get hers ready. One time I left 6 hard boiled eggs on the table for her lunch. I just stepped out to wash my hands and when I got back eggs were gone. She ate them like that, not peeled or anything.”

Max isn’t always admired for his devotion however. He said he’s known by management as “the guy who feeds strays” and that he has received warnings not to do so. But he simply can’t go against his own moral compass.

Max always makes time to offer food and water to strays like this one in Turkey.
Max always makes time to offer food and water to strays like this one in Turkey.

“This is much stronger than me,” Max explains. “I can’t eat my lunch knowing there is a being, not far from me, starving and hasn’t had a piece of bread for days…. We usually work in small villages far from civilization or any bigger cities. If it is possible to buy it, then I always have one or two huge bags of dry food and some cans in the trunk of my car. And on my way from the site to my hotel, I stop and feed strays that I see. If it isn’t possible to buy dog food, then I improvise with our food by either taking extra breakfast from the hotel or just by buying extra food when I go shopping for myself. I know I can’t save them all. But for that day or that time when I meet that dog I can feed him at least and give him some water.”

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I am so pleased to promote what Max Kahrimanovic is doing and to thank Laura for writing this up in the first place.

Max’s admission in that last paragraph uses words that I have heard Jean using when I first met her back in December, 2006 when she was living in Mexico and rescuing so many street dogs and finding loving homes for them in the USA.

Once again meeting Pharaoh

Can’t resist this being shared again.

Oh, and before I republish the following, thanks for so many ‘Likes’ to yesterday’s post.

The following was first published back in March, 2014.

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Almost two months ago, January 30th to be exact, the first of this ‘Meet the dogs‘ series was published. It came out of an idea from Jean and that January 30th post introduced Paloma to you, dear reader. Since then we have told you about Lilly, Dhalia, Ruby, Casey, Hazel, Sweeny, and Cleo.

So today’s post is the last of the Meet the dogs stories; it is about Pharaoh. I’m going to indulge myself in telling you the story of this most wonderful of dogs.

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Pharaoh

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Photograph taken on the 12th August, 2003, the first day I saw Pharaoh.

That is Sandra Tucker, owner of Jutone Kennels in Devon, England, where Pharaoh was born on June 3rd, 2003.

Here’s something I wrote a long time ago that conveys my feelings of that first day when I met this puppy.

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In no time at all I was turning into the farm driveway, noticing the painted sign for Jutone & Felsental German Shepherds alongside the open, wooden gate.

I turned off the engine and was about to swing my legs out of the open driver’s door when I saw a woman coming towards me.

“Hi, you must be Paul, I’m Sandra. Did you have any trouble finding us?”

I shook hands with her.

“Not at all. I did as you recommended when we spoke on the phone and went in to the local store and got final directions.”

Sandra smiled, her glasses almost slipping off the end of her nose: “Dear Beth. She’s been running that local store since God was a boy.”

She continued with a chortle in her voice, “Some say that Beth was at the store before our local pub, The Palk Arms, opened for business. And the pub’s been in the village for well over four-hundred years.”

Sandra’s laugh was infectious and I caught myself already taking a liking to her. The sense of a strong, confident person struck me immediately. Indeed, a working woman evidenced by her brown slacks, revealing plenty of dog hairs, topped off with a blue T-shirt under an unbuttoned cotton blouse.

“Anyway, enough of me, Paul, you’ve come to get yourself a German Shepherd.”

She turned towards a collection of grey, galvanised-sheeted barns and continued chatting as I fell into step alongside her.

“After we discussed your circumstances over the phone; where you live down there in Harberton, why you specifically wanted a German Shepherd dog, I thought about the last set of puppies that were born, just a few weeks ago.”

Sandra paused and turned towards me.

“While, of course, you can select whatever puppy you feel drawn to, my advice is to go for a male. Listening to your experiences of befriending a male German Shepherd when you were a young boy, I have no doubt that a male dog would result in you and the dog building a very strong bond. Indeed, I have a young male puppy that I want to bring out to you. Is that OK?”

Before I could utter a reply, Sandra turned and walked out of sight around the corner of the first barn leaving me standing there, my positive response presumably being taken for granted.

Something in her words struck me in a manner that I hadn’t anticipated; not in the slightest. That was her use of the word bond. I was suddenly aware of the tiniest emotional wobble inside me from hearing Sandra use that word. Somewhere deep inside me was the hint that my decision to have a dog in my life was being driven by deeper and more private feelings.

My introspection came to an immediate halt as Sandra re-appeared. She came up to me, a beige-black puppy cradled under her left arm, her left hand holding the pup across its mid-riff behind his front legs, her right arm across her waist supporting the rear of the tiny animal.

I stood very still, just aware of feelings that I couldn’t voice, could hardly even sense, as I looked down at this tiny black, furry face, out-sized beige ears flopping down either side of his small head.

It was unusually warm this August day and I had previously unbuttoned my cuffs and folded the shirt sleeves of my blue-white, checked cotton shirt back above both elbows leaving my forearms bare.

Sandra offered me the young, fragile creature. As tenderly as I could, I took the pup into my arms and cradled the gorgeous animal against my chest. The pup’s warm body seemed to glow through its soft fur and as my bare arms embraced the flanks of this quiet, little dog I realised the magic, the pure magic, of the moment. Something was registering inside me in ways utterly beyond words but, nonetheless, as real as a rainbow might be across green, Devon hills.

“How old is he, Sandra?”

“This little lad was born on June 3rd. So what are we today? August 12th. So he is ten weeks old as of today.”

June 3rd, 2003. I knew that this date had now entered my life in just the same way as had the birth-dates of my son and daughter; Alex and Maija.

The power of this first meeting was beyond anything I had expected, or even imagined. I thought that it was going to be a fairly pleasant but, nonetheless, unsurprising process of choosing a puppy. How wrong could I have been!

What was captivating me was the pure, simple bodily contact between this young dog and me. No more than that. I was sensing in some unspoken manner that this was equally as captivating for this precious puppy-dog. For even at the tender age of ten weeks, the tiny dog appeared to understand that me holding him so longingly was bridging a divide of many, many years.

Sandra motioned with her arm, pointing out a bench-seat a few yards away alongside a green, well-manicured, lawn.

I very carefully sat down on the wooden-slatted bench and rested the beautiful animal in my lap. The puppy was adorable. Those large, over-sized ears flopping across the top of his golden black-brown furry head. His golden-brown fur morphing into black fur across his shoulders and then on down to the predominantly beige-cream colour of his soft, gangling, front legs. That creamy fur continuing along the little creature’s underbelly.

The puppy seemed almost to purr with contentment, its deep brown eyes gazing so very intently into mine. I was entranced. I was spellbound.

Never before had I felt so close to an animal. In a life-time of nearly sixty years including having cats at home when I was a young boy growing up in North-West London, and much later the family owning a pet cat when Alex and Maija were youngsters, I had never, ever sensed the stirrings of such a loving bond as I was sensing now. As this young puppy was clearly sensing as well. This was to be my dog. Of that I was in no doubt.

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Early days at home in South Devon.

 

Let me leave you with a couple of other photographs taken from his early days.

Pharaoh, nine months old.
Pharaoh, nine months old, taken in my Devon home in 2004.

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One year old: June 3rd 2004.
First birthday: June 3rd 2004. Again, picture taken in Devon.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that in the year 2014 I would be writing about Pharaoh from a home-office desk in Southern Oregon sharing a happy life with a wonderful London lady, Jean, and more gorgeous animals than one could throw a stick at.

ooOOoo

And here we are with Pharaoh, as with yours truly, well into his senior years.

Exit one polyp!

It’s your fault this is being published! 😉

I couldn’t resist showing my appreciation for the interest and best wishes from so many of you regarding the removal of my polyp.

Jean and I arrived at Three Rivers Hospital locally in Grants Pass a little before 10am and were quickly admitted to the pre-op room. Once I had been connected to all the various devices it was but a short wait before Dr. Nelson came in to check that all was ready for the procedure.

Amazingly, I was then back in the pre-op room after the 45-minute procedure had been carried out by 11:40am. Dr. Nelson then briefed me that everything had gone well and passed me the photos below.

I couldn’t resist sharing the photographs showing the polyp before removal on the left-hand side and the ‘crater on the moon’, as Dr. Nelson described, on the right-hand side it where the polyp once was!

scan-16The photograph on the right was taken before it was sewn over to prevent any subsequent infection.

Once again, thanks for all your best wishes. As Marina and Sue and others implied it was a very straightforward operation.

I love this dog so much!

Dearest Pharaoh.

As I explained yesterday, I am distracted from all things blogging right through to the end of this week-end.

So I’m republishing a post from June, 2013 that, hopefully, will be a fresh read for many of you.

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More on Pharaoh’s life.

First published June 4th, 2013.

What a wonderful relationship it has been.

Years ago if I was ever to own a dog, it had to be one breed and one breed only: a German Shepherd Dog.

The reason for this was that back in 1955 my father and mother looked after a German Shepherd dog called Boy. Boy belonged to a lovely couple, Maurice and Marie Davies. They were in the process of taking over a new Public House (Pub); the Jack & Jill in Coulsdon, Surrey. My father had been the architect of the Jack & Jill.

Jack & Jill, Longlands Avenue, Coulsdon, Surrey
Jack & Jill, Longlands Avenue, Coulsdon, Surrey

As publicans have a tough time taking holidays, it was agreed that the move from their old pub to the Jack & Jill represented a brilliant opportunity to have that vacation. My parents offered to look after Boy for the 6 weeks that Maurice and Marie were going to be away.

Boy was the most gentle loveable dog one could imagine and I quickly became devoted to him; I was 11 years old at the time. So when years later it seemed the right time to have a dog, there was no question about the breed. Boy’s memory lived on all those years, and, as this post reveals, still does!

Pharaoh was born June 3rd, 2003 at Jutone Kennels up at Bovey Tracy, Devon, on the edge of Dartmoor, South-West England. As the home page of the Jutone website pronounces,

The Kennel was established in 1964 and it has always been the aim to breed the best German Shepherd Dogs for type and temperament. To this end the very finest German bloodlines are used to continue a modern breeding programme.

and elsewhere on that website one learns:

Jutone was established by Tony Trant who was joined by Sandra Tucker in 1976. Sandra continues to run Jutone since Tony passed away in 2004. Both Tony and Sandra qualified as Championship Show judges and Sandra continues to judge regularly. Sandra is the Secretary and a Life Member of the German Shepherd Dog Club of Devon.

Turning to Pharaoh, here are a few more pictures over the years.

Pharaoh, nine months old.
Pharaoh, nine months old.

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One year old: June 3rd 2004.
One year old: June 3rd 2004.

The next picture of Pharaoh requires a little background information.

For many years I was a private pilot and in later days had the pleasure, the huge pleasure, of flying a Piper Super Cub, a group-owned aircraft based at Watchford Farm in South Devon. The aircraft, a Piper PA-18-135 Super Cub, was originally supplied to the Dutch Air Force in 1954 and was permitted by the British CAA to carry her original military markings including her Dutch military registration, R-151, although there was a British registration, G-BIYR, ‘underneath’ the Dutch R-151. (I wrote more fully about the history of the aircraft on Learning from Dogs back in August 2009.)

Piper Cub R151
Piper Cub R151

Anyway, every time I went to the airfield with Pharaoh he always tried to climb into the cockpit. So one day I decided to see if he would sit in the rear seat and be strapped in. Absolutely no problem with that!

Come on Dad, let's get this thing off the ground!
Come on Dad, let’s get this thing off the ground!

My idea had been to fly a gentle circuit in the aircraft. First I did some taxying around the large grass airfield that is Watchford to see how Pharaoh reacted. He was perfectly behaved.

Then I thought long and hard about taking Pharaoh for a flight. In the Cub there is no autopilot so if Pharaoh struggled or worse it would have been almost impossible to fly the aircraft and cope with Pharaoh. So, in the end, I abandoned taking him for a flight. The chances are that it would have been fine. But if something had gone wrong, the outcome just didn’t bear thinking about.

So we ended up motoring for 30 minutes all around the airfield which, as the next picture shows, met with doggie approval. The date was July 2006.

That was fun!
That was fun!

What a dear dog he has been over all the years and, thankfully, still is!

As if to reinforce the fabulous dog he still is, yesterday it was almost as though he knew he had to show how youthful he still was.

Because, when I took his group of dogs out around 7.30am armed with my camera, Pharaoh was brimming over with energy.

First up was a swim in the pond.

Ah, an early birthday dip! Bliss!
Ah, an early birthday dip! Bliss!

Then in a way he has not done before, Pharaoh wanted to play ‘King of my Island’, which is in the middle of the pond.

Halt! Who goes there!
Halt! Who goes there!

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This is my island! So there!
This is my island! So there!

Then a while later, when back on dry land, so to speak, it was time to dry off in the morning sunshine.

Actually, this isn't a bad life!
Actually, this isn’t a bad life!

Long may he have an enjoyable and comfortable life.

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Long may we all have enjoyable and comfortable lives!