Tag: Great Dane

Posted in neighbor, neighborhood, walking

What will it be: a new route or the same old streets?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Purple pumpkins? I never noticed those before.

When I take my Great Dane out for a walk in the morning, we have a choice. We can walk the usual two-and-a-half mile loop around our neighborhood, or we can explore some rarely walked cross streets. Regardless of which I choose, there’s much to notice.

If we take the longer route, I notice those things that have changed. Curbside trash announces a remodeling project. Seasonal holiday decorations appear each week. “For Sale” signs appear overnight. A carefully balanced pile of shingles precedes the arrival of roofers. That must a have been a great party in front of the vacant lot filled with beer cans and food wrappers. Out-of-state license plates reveal who’s got company. We know where every dog lives along this route.

On the other hand, if we zig-zag through some of the cross streets, we’ve got a new collection of houses, cars, and yards to notice. I see an older home with a one-car garage. There’s a driveway with two antique cars. Folks who just moved in have a mountain of cardboard boxes stacked up at the end of the driveway. I can see the backs of the houses I frequently pass on the longer route. The barks of dogs inside these houses sound unfamiliar.

No matter which route or direction I choose, I will notice something interesting to take a picture of and write about. I will notice something fascinating about a home I walked by a hundred times or the first time. I will hear cars, dogs, music, air conditioning units, children, birds, and sprinklers. Some I expect. Some surprise me.

Posted in dogs

It’s a bird…it’s a plane…it’s the moon

Posted on by William Douthwaite

My wife and were sitting out back admiring the half moon hanging out in the southern sky. The evening was just a few degrees cooler and a bit less humid, so it was a beautiful evening on the patio.

We weren’t alone. The Great Dane was with us, sitting on the stone pavers, looking up at the moon. She did not simply look up and then head off to sniff something, but saw there and gazed up for a few minutes.

I never thought dogs saw the world two-dimensionally. She is usually focused on what’s in front of her, or at least what’s in front of her nose. But she notices birds sitting up on utility poles and wires. She hears and watches single engine planes pass overhead. She scans the pine trees at dawn, hoping to catch a glimpse of the owl hooting overhead.

l’m fascinated by what our dogs notice as we walk through the neighborhood or a nearby park. I don’t think her eyesight is all that great, but she never misses a motionless bunny by the side of the road, a tiny lizard stuck to the side of the house, or a hawk gliding just overhead.

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, Life

The teeny, tiny service dog

Posted on by William Douthwaite

There was no one in line at the paint counter at Home Depot. Sweet! With paint chip in hand, I knew exactly what I needed: two gallons of interior flat.

Just before I described what I needed, a woman held out a white electrical outlet and asked, “Where do I find the paint to paint this?” Caught a bit off the guard, the paint guy pointed and said, “Down that aisle on the right.”

“What kind do I need?” she asked.

The paint guy took a close look and said, “Gloss. Down that aisle.”

“Is it OK to paint this?”

“Sure,” he said.

Her service dog was watching the whole exchange. Her service dog was a five-pound Yorkie, wearing a tiny “Service Dog” vest. I looked down at her. She nervously looked up at me. Neither of us was interested in the situation.

I said, “That is a tiny dog!”

I do not believe English was her first language. She simply smiled at me. I said, “I have a Great Dane.”

Her eyes got big and she said, “I saw one when I was four years old. I remember looking way up at him.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, “She’s about a hundred pounds heavier than your little one!”

That little dog weighed less than the amount of food I feed my big dog in a day. I now know there’s no minimum weight requirement on being a service dog. That little canine shook so much when I looked at him, I think he needed an emotional support dog of his own!

If he can do the job, more power to him. However, if it were me, I’d want a large dog to be watching out for me. But that’s just me.

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 Uncategorized

How close is close enough?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
So what do you think? Do you want to get close to this big girl, or not?

A “through the bible” devotion from Exodus 19.

When I’ve got the Great Dane on the leash, a lot of people take a step back from her hundred pounds of puppy energy, her tail whipping back and forth, and scorching-hot panting. Except for the kids. Kids line up to pet the dog, get a sloppy kiss, and gaze into those huge brown eyes.

At the base of a mountain, Moses and the people encounter what anyone else would call a volcano.

“Now Mount Sinai was all in smoke because the Lord descended upon it in fire; and its smoke ascended like the smoke of a furnace, and the entire mountain quaked violently. When the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God answered him with thunder” (Exodus 19:18,19).

The one true God isn’t a statue. He’s no inanimate object made out of stone or wood. The ground is moving. There’s fire, smoke, and unbearable heat. The sound is deafening. Everyone takes a step back. You dare not get too close!

Unless you’re one of the kids. It’s the same God, just in human form. Later on, he takes the children in his arms and blesses them (Mark 10:16).

So what do you think? Do you want to get close to this God? Or not? And I suppose the answer is, “Yes.” I never want to forget the God of Mount Sinai. Nor do I want to forget the compassion of Christ.

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

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?