Category: dogs

Posted in dogs

How dare that storm come into our yard!

Posted on by William Douthwaite
This isn’t Winston, but you get the idea

Suddenly, it’s thunderstorm season. After a dry early spring, daily showers soak the yard, and everything is turning green again. However, our small white dog Winston takes umbrage at the loud rumbles echoing across the sky. With a endless barrage of barks, he waits at the back door, ready to take on the storm.

“Hey, it’s pouring rain. You don’t want to go out there.”

Yes he does. He doesn’t give up. Finally I give in. “Alright. Go get ’em!”

I open the door and he sprints out into the pouring rain. In less than a minute, he’s soaking wet, running along the fence, giving the storm a stern barking lecture about getting too close to our yard.

I didn’t realize it was raining so hard. “Hey, get back in here.” He didn’t even glance back at me, determined to get to the source of that thunder. I whistled. No response. I closed the door. He’ll let me know when he’s ready to come back inside.

Ten minutes of torrential rains later, I heard a yip at the back door. Finally. I grabbed a towel and caught his collar as he scooted inside. I dried him off as much as I could. I released him to roll around on the carpet for a bit.

The next thunder came right on the heels of a big flash of lightning. It was very close. Winston returned to yapping at the back door. “No way. You’re not going out there. Cool it.”

Ten minutes later, the storm had moved on, just distant flashes of lightning over the ocean. It was quiet. Winston was fast asleep on his side. He had given that storm what for. Another job well done.

Posted in dogs, Life

Water adventure at the dog park

Posted on by William Douthwaite

While the dogs were delighted, we were horrified when someone opened the gate and two of our three dogs got into the pond.

We usually only have two dogs, but we were also watching my daughter’s older dog. The dog park surrounds a fenced-in pond populated by turtles, snakes, fish, and no doubt a gator or two. A couple of gates provide access, but I’ve never seen a dog in there.

Until that day. A gentleman with an Irish setter and some kind of terrier opened the gate for them, and two of our dogs eagerly followed. My daughter’s dog, an eleven-year old lab mix spotted a tennis ball in the lake, jumped in, and swam to get it. Her hips are a little stiffer, but she could still swim! And then she wanted someone to throw it back in so she could swim some more.

Our Westie is not a swimmer, but ran around the lake, yapping at the swimming dog, turtles, and fish, and lapping at the murky water.

What about our Great Dane? She didn’t get through the gate, but ran around the outside of the fence, woofing at everyone inside.

Once in the pond enclosure, there was no getting them out. In and out of the water and around the lake, they got wet, dirty, and had the time of their lives. A lady grabbed a few dog biscuits from her car, but our dogs weren’t interested.

After about half an hour, I positioned myself on the bank and waited for them to run by. Once they were distracted by water and a ball, I grabbed each by the collar and ended their water play.

The dogs had fun, the van smelled like wet dog for a while, and they all took good naps when we got home.

Posted in dogs, Life

He never saw it coming

Posted on by William Douthwaite

On a recent walk with my Great Dane, I shocked a young man back to reality.

Our two mile loop isn’t far from the community’s middle school, and on this day we were walking right around afternoon dismissal time.

I would guess the young man was in 7th grade, weighed down with a substantial backpack, head buried in his cell phone. As we closed the gap, I shook the leash to jingle her Dane bling, her large metal prong walking collar. He didn’t look up, absorbed in digital conversation.

We stopped, waiting for him to pass by, but he didn’t notice us until he was one foot in front of us. But then he did notice and jumped a foot up and back when he saw the beast staring at eye level, tail whipping back and forth, excited to greet a new friend. He was terrified, nervous, and shouted, “Whoa, I didn’t see you!”

It’s hard not to notice that 115 lb. of dog from 50 feet away. Whatever was on my phone would have to be amazingly absorbing to isolate me from every other reality surrounding me.

When he jumped, I couldn’t help laughing out loud. Sometimes we really worry about who’s watching us and what they think about us. Guess what? They aren’t watching you, they’re not thinking about you, and they don’t even know you’re there.

Not until they come nose to nose with that nose!

Posted in dogs

Is that the biggest size you have?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I was getting ready to ship my dogs out to some pet sitters for our trip to Hawaii. Twelve days away meant sending a lot of food with them.

So loaded up my Walmart cart with small, medium, and large bags of dry chicken and rice kibble, An eight pound bag would be plenty for the Westie. He only eats one third of a cup twice a day. I needed a fifteen pound bag for a few days at home and the first few days away for the Great Dane. Then I needed to drop off a forty pound bag at her second home away from home for the final week of our trip. She consumes a lot more food: eight cups a day.

I pushed my sixty-plus pound cart to a long but quickly moving self check out lane. Finally, a register opened up and I reached for a scanning gun to check out. But there was no gun at the end of the wire.

Great. Now I have to wrestle all the bags onto the scanner. Alright, this is why I work out. Let’s do this. The eight pound bag is easy. Fifteen pounds? I only needed one hand. The forty pound bag was tough. The bag is big, floppy, and constantly shape-changing. I was so happy when I heard the beep as I wrestled it onto the scanner.

Like I said, this is why I work out. So I can have a giant dog and toss around giant bags of food.

Posted in dogs

A dog as big as me

Posted on by William Douthwaite

As we got back from a long walk with the dogs, our across-the-street neighbors were out front. Their three-year-old daughter had a big smile on her face as she edged her way towards our dogs. As I always do when kids are around, I not only asked, ” Would you like to pet our dogs?” but also insisted, “Check with your dad to make sure it’s OK.”

It was fine and once I got the heavily-panting Great Dane to sit with her tongue hanging way down out of the side her mouth, the little girl came over to reach up and ever so gently pet her head and back.

Our dog was a few inches taller than the girl, and I thought to myself, “What an experience to meet a dog who’s so much bigger than you!” It’s a Clifford the Big Red Dog experience. I’d be a little nervous. The young girl just giggled. An adult friend of ours who is on the shorter side will have that chance when she stops by to visit next week.

Our puppy is nowhere near done growing. In the course of time, the top of her head may be up to my shoulders. Many more will have the experience of reaching up to pet a giant dog.

And ours will not even come close to the largest Great Danes out there. While some of them flirt with two hundred pounds, ours will probably max out around a buck twenty.

That’s plenty big for us. She already fills up the tub at the do-it-yourself dog wash. It took two of us to hold her while a groomer trimmed and dremeled her nails. When she stretches out, she can reach both sides of our king size bed. She doesn’t grab food off our plates, but once in a while her tongue comes very close to licking our meal.

Posted in dogs, Food

A delicate balance

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I did a double take as I passed by the kitchen and saw a pile of homemade Loaded Chocolate Peanut Butter cookies balanced on a teetering plastic container lid. What could possibly go wrong?

What could possibly go right? A lot of dump trucks have been rumbling by our house on the way to construction sites up the street. Wire baskets in the kitchen from time to time, nudged little by little towards the edge by traffic vibration. The house shook when a neighbor brought down a dead tree in the lot next door. I think our dogs are aware of this. I’m certain they were thinking, “Just one more truck and those are ours!”

That’s one scenario. Here’s another. I can imagine the smaller, older dog encouraging the taller pup, “Just go over there and take a sniff. Just a little one. No one will know.” Just in case you’ve forgotten, our taller pup is an eight-month old Great Dane, whose chin is as tall as that island countertop. Her sniff is more than enough to send that stack flying across the kitchen floor. The little dog is quicker. I figure he’ll get four while the big dog grabs two. And just like that, everyone goes back to their respective sofas happy.

Neither dog has figured out how to open the kid gate that keeps them out of the kitchen. I saw the cookie stack long before they did and stabilized the pile for the low, low price of just one cookie. So you can still order some from the Backseat Grace Bakery.

Posted in dogs, running, walking

Don’t worry about me. Just go.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alex Radelich on Unsplash

She stopped right in the middle of the road.

I shouted, “What are you doing?” I actually shouted that to the Great Dane who was, for once, obediently sitting next to me. We were just waiting for the traffic to pass so we could cross the street and continue our walk.

But this lady decided to stop. Right in the middle of the road. Right in the middle of a busy street.

Okay, let me explain. I’m a city boy. I grew up in suburban Philadelphia. You don’t walk out in front of traffic. Not if you don’t want to die. But here in Florida, people do it all the time. I know, pedestrians have the right of way. But that’s assuming pedestrians have looked both ways to see if any cars are coming.

The rules are different in Florida. I blame Walmart. In front of their store, cars have to stop for people walking through the striped areas of the parking lot. I watch many walk out without a glance for oncoming cars. I’m not so brave. I wait. I let them go. I don’t trust them. (I don’t trust anyone.) I’m not going to walk in front of any car, assuming it will stop for me.

So we are out for our morning walk. The Great Dane and I have crossed to the middle island of the four lane parkway that runs north and south through our city. She is doing well today. She sits next to me as we wait for the traffic to pass. I am ready to say, “Heel,” as the last car in a pack goes by. But the car slows and comes to a stop. Really? Just like that, when other cars are zipping by?

I’m not falling for that. We’re staying put. I simply look away, as if I don’t notice them at all. I’ll wait. I’ve got all day. Finally, they drive off, and we can cross the road.

I’ve had this problem running, too. I am pacing myself, waiting for a car to pass, and they slow down or stop. They think they are doing me a favor. I chuckle, and run around behind them. Just drive your car. Don’t worry about me. Just go.

I’ve run and biked enough miles that I know how to avoid people who aren’t paying attention, couldn’t care less, and probably shouldn’;t be driving anyway. You live longer when you’ve got some situational awareness and don’t trust anyone.

Posted in dogs

Field trip: the dog wash

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Most of our dogs have loved the water. Gabriel (Labrador retriever) would happily leap in any body of water, from lake to ocean, to retrieve a ball or a stick. Samson (German shepherd mix) loved to run through muddy, rain-filled swales along our neighborhood streets. Winston (Westie) will chase water squirted from a hose all afternoon. Yesterday, we couldn’t keep him out of the surf.

We’ve never had a dog who didn’t like the water. Until now. Except for long, sloppy drinks, Willow (Great Dane) has no use for water. She runs away from a squirt from the hose. She prefers to keep her distance from the ocean. She’s curious about the shower, but only through a glass door.

What about bath time? Willow’s not a fan. When she was smaller, we could leash her to the fence in the backyard and force her to bathe. But at eighty pounds, I’m afraid she’ll bring the fence down.

So yesterday’s field trip was to the Salty Dogs DIY dog wash. It shares a building with a BP station. The shop is equipped with four dog wash stations. You don’t need a reservation. Just walk in, tether your dog in a station, bathe, rinse, and let them shake water all over in a place that’s not your bathroom.

Willow knew something was going on. Even with the lure of treats, it took two of us to push her up the ramp into the tub. Once we had her tethered to a hand rail, I hugged her while my wife soaked her down and then sprayed her with soap. I grabbed a nearby bottle of shampoo and added more so we could each wash an end. After a nice rinse, Willow didn’t mind the blow dry. Her short hair dries very quickly. She was more than happy to bounce out of the tub all by herself.

While I paid for our visit, which included all the water, soap, and towels we needed, Willow knocked over a bucket full of rawhide bones, scattering them across the floor. For her efforts, they gave her a free one and let us bring one home for Winston, too.

A visit to this dog wash is $20, but it was Tuesday, so we got the $16 special. We may join the Tub Club, which is $24.95 a month for unlimited washes. They also have groomers and a full menu of services. It’s a cool little place, and beats going through the car wash with the windows open and Willow in the passenger seat.

Posted in dogs

Come on, let’s see what you’ve got!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Two unlikely opponents faced off in this morning’s tug-of-war championship.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in the white corner, hailing from the Tar Heel state of North Carolina, weighing in at twenty-two pounds, let’s hear it for Winstonnnnnnn the West Highlands White Terrier!”

“And in the tan corner, from Ocala, Florida, weighing in at eighty pounds, give it up for Willoooooooow the Great Dane!”

It’s a pretty unusual matchup. If Winston had a wrestling hero, it would be Rowdy Roddy Piper. Willow would be more of an Andre the Giant fan. Echoes of David and Goliath here.

All I have to do is toss the triple knotted blue rope out into the yard and they’re at it. There’s round after round of growling and tugging. But there’s no clear winner. Winston holds his own against an opponent four times bigger than he is. Willow finds it amusing that this little guy thinks he has a chance.

The contest ends in a draw when someone spots a squirrel and they team up to chase it off the fence. With a low center of gravity, Winston isn’t easy to budge. Willow is all muscle, easily able to hold her ground. It is so much fun to watch these two go at it.

I don’t know if Winston realizes that Willow isn’t done growing yet. He probably doesn’t care. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?