Thursday, June 29, 2006

Jaxx graduates from Agility!

Having this past week off has been fun. I have found that every day is filled with fun things to do that keep me very busy! My pile of Netflix DVDs which I have been saving for this week are still sitting there. I am too busy doing other activities I normally don't get a chance to do.
Like yesterday, I went to see my GK sister and her furboy, Jaxx, perform at the last day of their agility class. It was really fun to be a spectator and be able to sit back and observe everyone. It seemed easier to listen to the instructor's helpful suggestions and I got to watch how people handle their dogs differently. Angela Nickerson is the trainer and she is one of the best trainers I have worked with. Not only is she very knowledgeable of dog training, but she has a great way of making it fun for the people and helping them through difficult skills. There were four dogs and their people at this class. Besides Jaxx, there was a Berner gal, an Aussie, and a Golden. Everyone in this class is peppy and agile, very unlike our pokey Saturday class. I watched everyone do all the obstacles, even the seesaw! No one in our class has gotten past the half way mark! I'm lucky if I can even get Riley's fourth paw on the plank. But I watched how everyone's dog had great confidence walking across that plank and it was great!
I, of course, could not keep my mouth shut for long, wanting to help coach and offer helpful solutions. My dear friend very politely accepted my help. (You're a great sport!) I guess it's the teacher in me and if I can offer a suggestion or two that could benefit them, why not? The worse that could happen is, I could be wrong, right?
I was very impressed by Jaxx's abilities and was already imagining the two of them in competitive agility trials. I am looking forward to Riley's last agility class and then looking forward to more intermediate agility training. We need to get some equipment!!

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Precautions

There is so much "stuff" out there on the internet these days. I dunno about your inbox, but even though I get very little spam, I still get the occasional forward from a well meaning friend or collegue that warns me about potentional dangers in our world. From the *77 feature on your cell phone, to the how to not be kidnapped in a parking lot, to the dangers of the Swiffer duster. In the past, I would have bought every word of it, forwarding the e-mail onto everyone in my inbox to make sure I passed the info on. Who know what kind of hoax *that* is! As the plethora of information grows on the internet, I have come to the realization that not everything you read is true...DUH! I know, I know. You should know that I once fell for that stupid joke when someone asks you, "Did you know that the work gullible was taken out of the dictionary?" Yeah, that would be me. But a smarter me, today, I take everything that I read with a grain of salt. I keep the info in the back of my head, not discounting it, but not taking it for gospel either.

Anyways, getting to the point. And today, a precaution of this sort crept into my inbox. A warning against rat poison in hotel rooms. The story was about an alleged show dog owner who was at a dog show, staying in a local hotel, who discovered that boxes of rat poison which was left in the rooms was ingested by her dogs. The story seems valid, she mentions a specific hotel in a specific city, during a specific dog show. She confirms that there are boxes of rat poison in hotel rooms under the bed. Anyways, whether this story is true or not, it planted a little seed in my head. If we ever book a room and have Riley with us, I will simply have to ask if there are any toxins in the room. Better safe than sorry, right?

Monday, June 26, 2006

Mt. Greylock

June 17 & 18, 2006

We packed up my Ford Escape Hybrid and headed west this time. I was kinda curious about camping somewhere in Massachussetts. I think this is the first time we have ever done that. We have always gone north to NH, VT, and ME. We've even gone east to the Cape, but never west and in MA.

On our way, we stop at REI in Framingham.
Mr. Mountain Man has decided that he would like to start backpacking. He has tentatively planned a trip with an old childhood buddy for a few weeks away. So we stop at REI so that he can find himself a pack and start breaking it in before the big trip. As he tries them on in the store, I am more and more confirmed that this activity is not for me. The packs are awkwardly humungozoid. They start at 60 Liters for your warmer weather backpacking trip and go up to 95 Liters for when temperatures go below 50 and you need to pack a lot more extra layers. I think of all the things I would not be able to pack in there, extra outfits, food, my extra soft blankie. And then, even if it would all fit, I don't want to carry it!

I leave him to try out the pack to do a little shopping of my own. This is one of my favorite stores to be in. Fun fun fun! I quickly find a few capri length hiking pants and a very light weight UnderArmor tank. I have been wanting longer hiking pants for awhile to keep the bugs from munching up my legs. I also find some special joint strength treats for Riley. They make some decent wheat and corn-free treats at REI! They will be good snacks for him on the trail. I check back in with the wanna-be backpacker and he has picked out the 95 L pack. We get on our way.


We drive towards the Northern Berkshires of western Massachusetts into Mount Greylock State Reservation. At 3,491 feet, Mount Greylock is the highest peak in Massachusetts. They say on a clear day, you can see five states from the summit. This is not the first time we've visited Mt. Greylock. Several years ago, Jeffrey and I went on a drive and ended up here. We drove to the summit and almost froze. I think it was in November or December. Then two years ago, we came here again and hiked up with Riley as a one year old. Here is a picture we took of Riley being a silly one year old at Mt. Greylock.

We quickly set up camp at site 35 after a less than warm and fuzzy welcome from the ranger. I think his first words were, "This is a campground. What do you want to do?" in a very suspecting tone. Even after we give him our name and confirm that we have a reservation, he continues with his authoritative rant of all the rules. No problem old man.

This campground is different from most we stay at. There is one road in and one road out, which makes for a lot of road noise. Luckily, Jeffrey has reserved the site all the way at the end so that we have very few neighbors. Most of the sites are not entirely visible from the road. You have to park your car and walk your things in. Our site is almost 50 feet in from where the car is parked. No one can see us from the road. After setting up and getting a bit of food in us, we are on our way to explore.


We walk up a short hill that is past our campsite. I think it's called Stony Ledge. I notice that it is cool but the humidity is rising. Riley is feeling the humidity and appears extra tired despite the minimal incline. We get to the top shortly and I am quickly annoyed by the swarms of giant flies. They are not the biting black flies but they are disgusting. We stay briefly while Jeffrey plays with our new Nikon CoolPics digital camera. Our last Nikon CoolPics served us well. This new one has some great features, like this action feature, where you can take multiple shots in a frame sequence.





After walking back down, we head over to the other end of camp to the ranger's shelter. We talk to the ranger on duty for a minute and then head across the road to the Cataract Trail. We are told it is a moderate hike with a nice waterfall at the end. It doesn't take us very long but the trail is very rocky and quite steep at one point. I was entirely impressed by a father and his daughter hiking back together. The little girl could not have been any older than four. And carried her own little pink vinyl backpack. Here we are enjoying the falling water. Jeffrey plays with the new camera some more.


We return to our campsite and I whip up some dinner while Jeffrey starts to make a campfire. Upon return from fetching firewood, he says two men were at the ranger's station reporting two bears had wandered onto their site. WHAT?!@*#$%%#@>?! Jeffrey had read to me earilier that we were in black bear country and I scoffed it off. We're in a campground. Bears don't come into noisy campgrounds?! Wrong.

I continue to make dinner but keep an eye on Riley. He's our first alert. I make Caribbean beans and rice, topped with mozzerella cheese, and a little tuna salad on whole wheat crackers. Nothing like strong, aromatic food to draw in the bears huh?! We refrain from letting Riley eat his chicken thigh on the ground in fear of leaving the scent of fresh blood. So Riley gets some tuna and licks the pots clean for us. We sit around the fire and read into the night. As darkness falls, I cannot help but to watch Riley's every gaze and move. He suddenly perks up, looking out into the darkness, and produces a deep, throaty growl. Okay, time to pack things up. We put all the food and trash back into the car, grab the ax and head into the tent. Jeffrey instructs me that if a bear comes, I am to grab Riley and run while he fights the bear with a wood axe. Right, hun. don't have I have pepper spray in the car? Before we go to bed, Jeffrey plays some more with the new camera.


We start the Hopper Trail early the next morning as it is definitely going to be a hot day. The humidity is increasing by the minute and the sun is out. We pack up our things and start the hike. Jeffrey is breaking in his new pack by carrying about 30 pounds in his pack. I think he's got the queen sized air mattress in there, plus our food.
The hike up should have taken us an hour and a half, an hour and 45 minutes at the most. Instead, it takes us over 2 hours...right into the mid day heat. Why? Because about 100 crazy people have decided to have a trail race on the mountain. So while we carefully find footing on the rocky and rooty trail that is still wet and slippery from the rain, 100 or so runners are crashing through the brush at us. Several of them do thank us for trying to get out of their way but many of them are taking themselves quite seriously and at one point, one man, in an attempt to pass another woman who has kindly slowed down to pass us, runs right into Riley, who has also gotten off the trail to avoid being trampled. This really pisses us off and we decide to ignore all the runners and hike as we would or we'd never reach the summit. Uphill hikers always have right of way!! Not only am I shocked that so many people are looking for a good way to sprain an ankle or break their neck, but there is even a pregnant woman (easily 6 months) running down the mountain! Nothing like downhill trail running to get your high-impact aerobics in! 10 minutes to the summit and I am seriously fearing heat exhaustion for Riley. With the suffocating humidity, he cannot get his body to cool off. We cannot wait to find some shade and cool off.

At the top, we settle down next to the same tree we did two years ago. Luckily, I packed some ice in my Camelback. Riley crunches through the ice and seems better in just a few minutes. Two black flies find the right side of my face and it immediately starts to swell, and bleed! Those damn black flies. I happily munch on strawberries, apples, and nuts, ignoring the view entirely. Before we head back down, I give Riley a foot bath. Knowing that he only has sweat pores on the pads of his feet, I soak each paw in his water bowl to help cool him off. He seems to appreciate the gesture and does not resist my efforts. The downhill hike only takes us about 45 minutes.

On the way home we stop the day use area at Savoy Mountain State Forest to swim in the pond. The swim is wonderfully refreshing. I instantly wish this is something we could do all the time, like on our own summer vacation home. There is something very great about swimming in a natural pond or lake. Refreshed after our swim, we head home. Home sweet home.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Sea-faring working dogs

Monday's Boston Globe: Health/Science section. I saw the paper this morning as I was putting the recycling out. The large front page photo was of a Rottie, on the edge of a boat, looking out over the open waters of the ocean. And there was some large mass on the surface of the water. The title of the article was, "The scent of whale". Intriguing, I pulled the section out to save and read. When I got home tonight, I read a fascinating story about dogs being used for whale research. These dogs work to find whale scat, or more commonly known as, whale poop. Who would've thunk such an activity existed? I've never even thought about whether whales pooped or not. But I suppose everything poops, I guess I was just a tad shocked that they poop chunks of brown, orange, and/or neon red poop on the surface of the water. The article states that it is incredibly smelly (as I imagined it would be) but sinks in less than an hour. So it's hard to find. But with dogs, they have been able to collect four times the amount of whale poop they would normally be able to find on their own.
Why?
Good question.
Research of course. They are examining the poop, or scat rather, for information regarding hormone levels, parasites, marine biotoxins, and nutrition. It will help researches figure out why our whales are dying. And they are doing this research right here! A senior whale researcher from the New England Aquarium has been using dogs for three years now.
Another great job for our working dogs! Some of the dogs used were originally dogs trained for other jobs just as drug sniffing or tracking. But for one reason or another, being out on the open waters searching for whale scat was the perfect job for them. For example, one dog refused to jump up onto counters as needed for his job. He turned out to be a better whale scat dog. Another dog was too hot to do searches on land. He felt just fine out on a boat on the breezy seas.
Pretty cool stuff.

Friday, June 16, 2006

Is summer here yet?

We've had such a rainy June this year, it's hard not to wonder if we'll ever get our real summer. I know it's officially not summer yet, but usually by this time the weather is warming up gradually and we are able to enjoy being outdoors more. This weekend is supposed to be sunny. Hopefully, not too humid. We are heading out to Mt. Greylock tomorrow morning. Wuz supposed to go out tonight but neither of us felt like packing up and driving tonight. We'll have to leave early tomorrow and squeeze a hike in. Sunday, I presume, will be way too humid for the BernerBuddy to hike. Nothing drags him down more than the humidity. I have no idea what the hike will be like, but you can be sure I will report back with pictures to post!

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Divine Berner Intervention

Every Saturday morning I get the chance, I go to a Bikram Yoga class. It's the kind of yoga where you hold static poses, challenging all your muscle groups, yet it's also an intense cardio workout. And yes, it is in a room that is heated to 106 degrees. And you are there for 90 minutes.
I think it is insanely hard, that's why I like it. Compared to any other workout I've ever done, this is by far the most challenging. I think it is this way because more than 50% of the battle is with yourself. So far, every time I go to class, there is some point when that voice in my head says, "Why am I here torturing myself again?! I can't wait to get out of here!" But of couse, I am always thrilled with the results after finishing each class. And now I have a secret weapon. Riley helps me through.
A couple of weeks ago, the instructor suggested a strategy to help us recover from a difficult posture. She is wonderfully helpful in encouraging us through the insane workout. Between each set of postures, you get to rest for a few seconds. Typically during this time, you are swearing to yourself that you could have done it better, or that it is ridiculously hard and you want to run out of the room, or maybe you can sneak out to the bathroom to take a quick break. The majority of thoughts center around self-criticism or quitting. It is human nature. However, it is terribly distracting. How to turn off this ever present criticizing commentary in your head? Visualize something that always makes you smile. So the first thing that pops into my head is Riley's smiling face. And sure enough between each difficult posture, I picture his happy grin, which makes me grin, which then helps me forget how horribly bad I was at the last posture. Then I'm in a much more positive mood to try the next posture. It works! That's Divine Berner Intervention!

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Crawford Notch State Park

Memorial day weekend, 2006. First camping/hiking trip of the year. We camped at Dry River Campground in Crawford Notch State Park, NH, as recommended by Lafe Low's The Best in Tent Camping-New England (a guide for car campers who hate RVs, concrete slabs, and loud portable stereos).
Sites are surrounded by lots of greenery, though neighbors are within earshot. We are Site #17. We set up camp late Friday night in the dark and in the rain. Joy. My feeble attempts to convince Mr. Great Outdoorsman to stay the night at an inn were squelched. In any case, I got a good night sleep on our half inflated air mattress (forgot to charge the pump) and at least I had my favorite blanket that smelled like home comfort.
Saturday morning, Riley was up early - restless and anxious to explore his surroundings as he hadn't gotten the chance the night before. His nose is pushing into Jeffrey's shoulder and arm, trying to wake him up. We finally get up and have a casual, relaxed morning. I eat a yummy Gala apple and a slice of whole wheat bread with White Nectarine preserves. Yum Yum. At least I have good food to eat. Green Mountain Coffee washes it all down nicely.
We head out around 11am. We plan to take a little warm up hike to ease in, especially since the longer hike will be on Sunday. Just 2 hours. Riley was very excited to be out. The weather was perfect for Berner hiking- warm, not humid, wet trails, lots of fresh, running water. We hike to a pond, passing by several campsites alongside the water's edge. People are fishing, swimming, even napping out in an inflatable raft in the middle of the pond.
















At one end of the pond, we find a wooden hut where two people have stayed the night. Their mats, sleeping bags, and packs are hung within the shelter but they are nowhere to be found. Perhaps one of them is the napper out on the raft. What a nice place to spend the weekend.







We return to our campsite which is surrounded by a mix of maple, birch, and ash trees. (that's what the book says, I dunno any better). I whip up a snack: chili + salsa with blue chips and strawberries too, Yum yum. I love food. Riley and Jeffrey leave to take a walk down to the Dry River, which apparently is not dry, go figure. I read for a bit and plan out the dinner menu: whole wheat pasta shells with spinach and Feta cheese chicken sausage. A meal fit for a hiking family. Strawberries, of course, for dessert. Riley gets half a pound of duck, not too much food to weigh him down for tomorrow's hike but some good fat for energy.

Saturday night is a bit colder but I sleep well on the fully inflated mattress. My stubborn cough that I have had for a week is gone! Nothing like fresh New Hampshire air to cure a lingering cough! The sun is out early and it is going to be sunny day. We head out on our 5 hour hike.










Our first stop: Arethusa Falls. It is spectacular, and very popular. We found ourselves in the company of 30-40 other hikers enjoying the waterfall.



The falls were just a 45 minute hike in from the trail head. Most families with young children hike into this spot and hike back out. I was most surprised to even see a woman who appeared at least 6 or 7 months pregnant. The hike in was moderately difficult, certainly not easy! As we head out back onto the trail, a woman stops me to tell me her six year old daughter thought I looked beautiful. It must be the pigtails. :P

We head in the diretion of Ripley Falls. The hiking is dense with growth and it is still early in the season for groomed trails. We find the brush thick and many fallen trees across the paths.


The hike drags on and we begin to tire in the mid-day heat. We stop frequently at every steam so Riley can cool off his foot pads. I wash off my face with the ice cool water too.

Jeffrey leads the way. He is hiking like a pro. Better endurance than me. Riley tries to stay between us, keeping an eye on both of us. As we hike on, we meet several other 4-legged ones: a Great Dane, German Short-Trailed Pointer, Labs, Golden retrievers, some mutts, and then there was the psycho dog. We have already passed this psycho dog twice earlier in the hike. Our third encounter was not very pretty. This dog is the size of a large Rhodesian Ridgeback, same fawn coloring, with the face of an American Bull Terrier or Boxer. I never got a really good look at him cuz I was too busy holding Riley and trying to keep our distance from them. The dog had a gentle leader on his muzzle and the owner had to hold his muzzle and collar very tightly. Each time we pass, he is snarling something nasty and is resisting it's owner's hold with full tention. The first two times we pass this dog, we quickly scuffle by without much incident. The owner comments, "My dog needs to learn some manners from your dog."

If your owner taught you some manners you would have some manners. I think in my head. Instead, I say something polite like, "oh, they're just being boys," or something dumb like that.

The third time we encounter this dog is along the path to Ripley falls. We had reached a point on a steep decent when we decided to take a short break. We all needed a rest, especially Riley, and a bite to eat. We gorged on some oranges, apples, and ate a few Greens bars. Riley got some string cheese and almonds. As we catch our breath, Mr. SuperHiker recharges:
We are resting quietly when Riley alerts us to some visitors. We hear a man call out, "He's appropriately warning you that psycho dog is coming." We move our things off the trails and I have Riley way off the trail. The man is being pulled down the trail and I pray to higher power that he actually has control of him. As they pass, psycho dog lunges at us and at this point Riley has had enough of the psycho-ness. He lounges back and gives a snarl and growl right back at him. The owner drags the dog off, still bucking and growling. Then what does he do? He takes his hiking sticks and wacks the dog upside the head. !*@#@?!@!* Now we really understand. Psycho owner, poor dog.

After the passing of the killer dog and abusive owner, we decide to abandon the hike to Ripley falls. The decent is steep and we have to hike back out the same way. There's still a good 2 hours to loop back to the parking lot. We keep hiking until we reach the outlook.
Here we stop for a bit for more water and a cheese and crackers snack. I am almost out of water. Good thing Riley carried his own water, I would not have had enough to share. Around the corner from this outlook is the cliff with a rewarding view.

The rest of the hike is just the decent. There were many very steep parts so decent was not as fast as I would have hoped. It was quite dangerous in some parts. I just kept singing, "I'm dreaming of an Ice Cream Cone..." to keep myself going. It worked! A great hike: COMPLETED.

My reward: a big scoop of Vanilla on a sugar cone. YUM!

We brought free range turkey drumsticks for Riley. Jeffrey decided he deserved BOTH of them. That's over 3lbs worth! Chow down!


Radio Flyer

I recently picked up a new toy. A child sized Radio Flyer wagon that has been adapted for a large Doberman. A woman on my RawFedNE list was moving and needed to let it go. I got it for $20 bucks.
Here is a picture someone's posted on the internet on how to convert the wagon:


Riley and I have dabbled in a great many activities. Pulling wagons (or carting/drafting) was always something I wanted to do with Riley. We even went to a Intro to Drafting workshop in Maine about two years ago to learn the basics. Up to this point, Riley has only pulled 2 by 4s around the driveway. He doesn't mind the harness at all and doesn't seem to mind pulling, but the rattling noise of something following him does creep him out a bit. Since I've always wanted a wagon for him I have been keeping an eye out for someone wanting to sell their second-hand wagon so that we could try it out. The real wagon I'd like to get costs about $350-400, but it's beautiful hand-crafted woodwork!
After I got home from work yesterday, I decided to introduce the wagon to Riley. I got out my armory of tools: treats, treats, and more treats. He was very attentive, happy to get the harness on, but a little wary about the large shafts made out of PVC piping. Some more treats and coaxing and he was in. With me walking closely to him encouraging him and supplying him with yummy treats, he looped the driveway twice! Turning is definitely a challenge but not impossible. I placed two boards in the back of the wagon in hopes of making the wagon rattle a little less. Plus, we tried to walk on the grass and not on the asphalt so as to absorb some of the noise. Not too bad.
Our first attempt at drafting was a success!

Friday, June 02, 2006

God Bless You

Riley has been a regular pet therapy dog to South Belknap at McLean Hospital for almost three years. South Belknap is a two story building which houses the Geriatric Neuropsychitry Unit. The Geriatric Neuropsychiatry Unit (GNU) is a short-term, inpatient unit for the evaluation and treatment of patients with Alzheimer's disease and other forms of dementia. The McLean Geriatric Psychiatry Program is also the oldest and largest service in New England dedicated exclusively to meeting the mental health needs of the elderly. Its multidisciplinary treatment teams provide comprehensive diagnosis, treatment and follow-up on a wide range of psychiatric disorders.

Given my line of work, it is refreshing and a challenge to work with a different population. I am most honored to accompany Riley to his "work" as his handler. In addition, Riley has a little sidekick named Mandy. Mandy is a two year old Maltese. She is, of couse, pure white, and only about 8 or 9 pounds. Running next to Riley's 85 pound black frame she tries hard to keep up. They make quite a statement when we enter the halls of South Belknap. Mandy greets patients and staff with a fury of flying fur, tail, and energy. She gets all the "Aw"s and "Oh"s. Riley quietly follows her path, always keeping his watchful eyes on her but is content to hang back. When we finally reach the large activity room, I give Riley control of the room and he makes his way around to meet the patients who are usually seated around the perimeter of the room. Everytime we visit, the patients vary in their abilities to maintain a conversation appropriately, respond to verbal direction, or recognize that there are dogs in the room.We never really know what kind of visit we are going to have until we arrive. Sometimes visits are very talkative and patients want to talk about different breeds, training, or how much they shed. Other times, visits are very quiet and all patients want to do is a spend a little time interacting with an animal that is non-judgemental and soft to pet!

On a recent trip, we found ourselves with a mix of patients on one floor. Mandy immediately found the lap of a nice gentleman who was having his blood pressure checked by a doctor in the activity room. He was very excited to see her and so I let her do what she loves best, sit in a lap and get lots of attention. We chatted a little bit about how sweet the dogs are and what kinds of things they really like. Riley then follows me to the other side of the room to chat with a few women. The session continues with me answering a few questions about what kind of breeds Mandy and Riley are, what their funky eating habits are, and what good friends they are. Mandy eventually makes her way around the room, temporarily leasing the lap space of each patient as she goes. The first gentleman we met is now calling Riley and Riley responds by walking over to him and presenting himself for scratchies. I tell the man, "He likes you!" The two of them are now enjoying a great symbiotic moment. A few minutes go by and I look up to find that the gentleman has crossed the room and is coming towards me, lugging a small oxygen tank behind him. He marches right up to me, staring at me intently, and then leans in toward my face (as I'm trying not to lean away). he belts out, "GOD BLESS YOU!"

My first response is to be polite, "Well, thank you!" I have experienced a great many things yelled at me before and I have learned to just roll with it.

"Your dogs are just great. You know, this is my first day here and these dogs just made my day. Thank you for bringing them. Thank you for doing what you do. God bless you."

Though I am frequently thanked by the staff there and oftentimes even the visiting family members comment on how great it is that I find time to visit the patients, this complement was so heartfelt. I certainly do see it in the patients' eyes and on their faces when they forget for just 5 minutes that they are in a hospital, being evaluated, taking medication, not allowed to return to their homes. Or, for just a few minutes, their minds are not confused or lost. In that 5 minutes, they are content to pat a dog, maybe even reminisce about a dog they once owned or perhaps have at home, and talk about something that does not relate to their illness. To be able to provide that for someone, even just one person in that building on any given day, makes me feel quite blessed.