Tag: dogs

Posted in dogs

Another batch of friends at the dog park

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Yesterday’s trip to the dog park was fun. You can tell I enjoy these outings because I like to write about them. We went before lunchtime since lots of storms were predicted for the afternoon (none of which materialized, by the way.)

These are my two, enjoying our morning outing.

Only one dog was wandering around the park, and from a distance it looked like another Great Dane, a harlequin, white with big, beautiful black spots. Once we got closer, though, he just didn’t have the size or the head shape of a Great Dane. His name was Duke, and when his owner brought him home from the animal shelter at eight weeks, she thought he might be at least part Great Dane. But it wasn’t in his DNA. Her previous dog was a Great Dane, and she was so thrilled to see Willow, our dane.

They had to leave after just a few minutes chasing around with our dogs, but a few more came right after. There was Cotton, a little white, one-eyed, fluffy Havanese. When Winston, our slightly larger White West Highland Terrier looked at him, it must have been like looking in a mirror. Cotton’s owner used to take him to the adjacent small dog park, but the little dogs wouldn’t run around. They just laid there near their people. So she started bringing him to the big dog park, where there’s lots of action.

He was accompanied by an eight-month-old Basenji named Fawn. She had a wonderful curly tail that looped around twice. I learned that a Bazenji doesn’t shed and is hypoallergenic. The four of them raced and hopped around getting to know each other, but it soon became clear that the smallest, Cotton, was the Alpha of this impromtu pack.

Before long, we were joined by Buddy, a small black Lab/Shepherd mix sporting a vest which announced, “In training – do not pet.” His owner and trainer had walked him around the outside of the dog park before bringing him in, letting him acclimate to these new surroundings. He was very friendly, approaching all the owners, hoping for some attention, but we all respected his restrictions.

We were joined by Samantha, an older, affectionate, mid-sized mixed breed who soaked up all the petting and scritches she could coax out of the humans.

It was a typical hot summer day, so the dogs spent as much time drinking water from five-gallon buckets as they did running around with each other. I find it curious and amusing that though I left knowing the names of all the dogs I met that day, I didn’t get any of the owners’ names. I need to make sure I get to know them as well as their dogs!

Posted in dogs

A hot afternoon at the dog park

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I’ve often said, “You can tell how hot it is by the length of their tongues.” Today’s 90-degree afternoon prompted lots of long-tongue panting after just a few minutes of racing around the dog park.

A beautiful black lab and a friendly springer spaniel greeted us at the dog park gate. They had been there a while, so they were a little tired from the heat. Before long a couple of airedales joined us, but they were all about swimming in the pond.

Two five-gallon buckets and a small bowl of water were under the pavilion. All the dogs lapped up what sounded like quarts of water every few minutes.

The spaniel was on high alert, racing after electric bikes and scooters on the other side of the fence. Our great dane joined him for a few chases, but soon tired of that game. The same spaniel jumped the fence and took a dip in the pond, too.

The lab must have been there for a while. He laid down in a nice cool spot in the dirt and watched everyone else run around. His owner shared that the far gate to the pond was only held shut by a bungee cord. His dogs knew how to push their way in and out when they felt like taking a dip. I told them not to teach my dogs any tricks like that.

A Disney-themed birthday party was in full swing in a pavilion just outside the dog park fence. Partiers were surrounded by pink and purple balloons as familiar movie songs filled the air.

When I took a walk around the pond to prompt our big dog to sprint and burn off energy, I saw no dogs in the adjacent small dog park. Zero. Too hot I guess.

My two happily trotted to the gate when I said, “Ready to go for a ride?” Half-an-hour was enough to wear them out. When we got home, they continued to pant for another thirty minutes, before stretching out on the cool tile floor.

I’m glad we went for a short ride across town to the dog park on a steamy afternoon. They’ll crash for the rest of the night, tired and content.

Posted in dogs

We are safe and sound

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The barking was incessant. Yip, yip, yip, yip, yip. What in the world is going on out there? I looked out the window at the little dog (Winston, the White West Highland Terrier) aggressively yapping at a spot in the grass.

I had to go out and see. It was probably a lizard. Or part of one. Wrong. It looked like a mouse. How in the world did he catch a mouse? Wait. That’s not a mouse. It’s a mole. Winston had caught or found a squinty-eyed, pointy-snouted, long-clawed mole somewhere in our backyard. A mole? I’ve never seen a mole in our yard. Where in the world did you find it? I scooped it up and tossed it over the fence. You’re not going to torment him (or her) any more.

I got back into the house to find the big dog (Willow, the Great Dane) barking and scratching at the porch floor. Now what? I called her away only to find a dead lizard on his back, covered in drool. Great. Just what I need. I tossed him (or her) over the fence.

Suddenly, these dogs who spend most of the afternoon snoozing have channeled their inner hunter and pursued the latest predators in our yard. They have successfully protected their home from invaders!

Posted in dogs, Life

A new dog park

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We (the dogs and I) checked out a new dog park yesterday.

The one we usually go to was still closed for repairs and maintenance. The work was supposed to be completed two weeks ago, but the gate was still locked. The dogs know when we’re getting close. They start woofing as we turn into the parking lot. Sorry guys, you’ll have to be patient. We’ll try out another park on the south side of town.

The one we ended up at was adjacent to a racket sport complex. There were no other dogs in the large open area beneath some imposing power lines. A small canopy provided some shade for a few benches. Other than that, we were out in the sun.

Both dogs did a quick run around the area and drank from all the water containers scattered around. Before long, a few more dogs arrived. We greeted Captain, a Norwegian Elk Hound, Vinnie, a handsome German Shepherd, Bo, a black Labrador retriever, Rocky, a spaniel mix, and Nico, a Belgian shepherd with long, beautiful, cream colored fur.

Temperatures were in the 90s, so after a little running and lots of drinks, the dogs all found shady spots to lay down. I tossed a few balls and a frisbee, but no one was interested in running. With long tongues hanging out of their mouths, their look said, “Are you kidding?”

I chatted with the owners as the dogs got to know each other. Everyone is a dog expert with plenty of unsolicited advice to share. The dogs were all people experts, greeting and treating us all as their new best friends.

A small brown curly haired puppy watched from the neighboring small dog enclosure. He so wanted to run with the big dogs, but his owner was off talking on the phone.

One thing is certain. After a half and hour at the park, my dogs are tired. They crash as soon as they get home. It is definitely worth the time and the trip to let them run with a pack.

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 cookies, Life

Everyone loves the cookie guy!

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Khalid Elkady on Unsplash

I love delivering cookies. Every box brings a smile to the recipient’s face. With a gasp, they get their first look and exclaim, “These are amazing!”

But it gets better. When I pulled into a driveway last week, a little dachshund-mix dog greeted me in the driveway. Her six-inch tail was whipping back and forth a mile a minute as I stepped out of the van. With happy squinting eyes, she sat while I scratched her chin and chest, ran my hand down her back.

After a minute of that, I told her, “Hey, I’ve got some cookies for your mom.” She led me up the walk to the front door and I pushed the Ring doorbell with my elbow. Our customer answered the door and I said, “I love your welcoming committee!”

“Oh, was she out here?”

I laughed, “She’s not supposed to be out here?”

Apparently not. I thought they had an invisible fence or something. But my new little friend was just enjoying a few moments of sunshine and freedom on a beautiful afternoon.

Even the doggies are happy when the cookie guy shows up!

Need cookies? Check us out: backseatgracebakery.com

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

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, 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.