Do the Right Thing

A beach buddy told me about a little Chihuahua she'd seen periodically running loose on 26th Avenue. Although any road would be dangerous, this one is a veritable autobahn from Portola Drive to the beach. Rather than go into a tirade about how irresponsible the dog's owner was (as I have been known to do), Patty approached the woman to find out what was going on. The answer was not that simple.

Lori had promised a dying friend that she would take care of her dog Sugar when she was gone. It was an oath easier made than kept. Lori had an old Lab who often shoved open the door to lie down in the front yard, thereby giving Sugar plenty of escape opportunities. The Lab did not like the Chihuahua. In fact, no one liked Sugar. Lori said she loved it, but the beleaguered caregiver also admitted she was not really a little-dog person.

 Hey neighbor, can I borrow a cup of Sugar?

After much cajoling from her neighbors and friends, Lori agreed that Sugar needed a different home.  So, we met. Lori ushered me into her 1940's-era beach cottage, past the black Chihuahua that sat motionless in a plush, leopard-skin doggy bed. Sugar made it clear that she would be less than thrilled if I touched, looked at or spoke to her. Sugar was definitely not going to be one of those curious, waiting for a hug-type of dogs.

I explained that the rescue group I volunteer with, Animal Shelter Relief, would make sure Sugar found a good home. Although I asked her to think about it before she made a decision, Lori insisted I take Sugar with me.

Where's my sunglasses?

Lori did not have an easy choice to make back there in the beginning. I mean, what was she going to tell her terminally ill friend;  "nah, find somebody  else?" And though it may not have not worked out, letting Sugar go home with me could not have been that easy, either. However, Lori knew she made the right decision; her friend  just wanted a loving home for her little Chihuahua.

Sugar has settled in nicely, however; a bit on the shy side, but always ready with a kiss for those she knows. I tell myself Sugar's  former owner is looking down from heaven with a great big smile.

"Suspect #3: Please step forward and turn to your right."

Sandi Pensinger, Living With Dogs

Kelly wrote this article for the Winter 2010 Edition of Coastal Canine

You might say Sandi Pensinger was born into a dog’s world.  A highly respected dog trainer, Sandi began her animal career by helping her father in his veterinary cardiology practice. Her business, Living With Dogs, has helped hundreds of grateful owners since it was established a decade ago. She offers private and group training for basic manners as well as for canine sports like agility training, flyball, dock-diving and, Sandi’s latest passion, Treiball (a cross between herding & soccer).

Sandi has made it her mission to improve the image of dogs and raise public awareness of responsible dog owners. She and her friends campaigned almost five years to see more off-leash beaches and dog parks in Santa Cruz County. By 2000, they realized the best way to affect change was to change public perception about dogs. In order to shine a spotlight on the positive aspects of our furry friends, the non-profit organization Coastal Dog Owners’ Group (C-DOG) was born.

“We wanted to create some good news about dogs,” recalled Sandi. “We wanted to find more ways dogs could be an accepted part of society.” One of the main ways C-DOG accomplishes this is by hosting the annual Spring Dog Festival, held each May at the Soquel High School athletic fields. This year’s celebration, with its ‘60s theme “Woofstock West,” drew more than 3000 human visitors and another 1,000 four-footed companions. Frisbee dogs, lure coursing, agility trials and police K-9 demonstrations competed with beauty contests, costume parades and races in four different rings to keep festival-goers entertained.

A percentage of the Spring Dog Festival’s entrance fee goes towards the Angel Fund, which gives grants to other dog-related non-profit groups such as the Santa Cruz SPCA, Annie’s Blankets, and Soquel High School’s Veterinary Science Program, where Sandi teaches dog behavior to about 60 students a year. She estimates that C-DOG has raised close to $14,000 since the Angel Fund’s inception.

In September of this year, C-DOG also organized the first Responsible Dog Owner Day, which offered attendees the opportunity to take the AKC’s Canine Good Citizen (CGC) test.  This is often the first step for those who plan to eventually certify their pets as therapy dogs.

The trainer uses positive reinforcement in her work and emphasizes the importance of recreation.  As evidenced in both her business and community involvement, Sandi lives by one of her favorite sayings: “People who play with their dogs stay with their dogs.”

www.livingwithdogs.us

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Kelly Luker is a freelance writer whose work has appeared in Runner's World, Salon and various alternative weeklies. She owns Little Pup Lodge, a daycare and cage-free boarding facility designed exclusively for small dogs.

Who Rescued Who?

That magnetic bumper sticker,  "Who Rescued Who?" lived on the Yapmobile's bumper until someone grabbed it.  Those three words came back to me when the relationship between Carly Jeanne and Wilbur culminated in them finding a home for each other.

My adopted niece recently spent two weeks with me.  Wilbur, the year-old Chihuahua foster dog here at Little Pup Lodge,  also decided to adopt Carly Jeanne. Like, immediately.  Carly  was a little slower to respond. She has lost way too much for her young 13 years and in response, has had to build a moat around her heart. Apparently, someone forgot to tell Wilbur. He  quickly abandoned me and snuggled up to Carly  each night. Since Carly Jeanne stays up until 3am and sleeps until 2pm when she visits (We're not much into Tiger Mom around here), Wilbur thought he'd died and gone to heaven. Wilbur is not what you would call a morning dog.  I gave up trying to rouse him for our 7am beach jaunts as a Chihuahua with his cranky-pants on can ruin it for the rest of the gang.

   Rise and shine–almost time for dinner!

Wilbur adored Carly more each day. After I cleared it with her mother Kimberly, I asked  if she would like to adopt Wilbur. Carly looked away and her answer was less than enthusiastic. I understood. If I'd lost my dad to drugs at 10 and lived with a mother diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer, I would be mighty slow at letting anything or anyone cross that moat.

Carly, with zonked-out Wilbur and zonked out Mom.

However, Kimberly called when Carly returned home to report that Wilbur was all she talked about. A week later, mother and daughter flew up to claim their newly adopted dog. The phone calls keep me updated on Wilbur's  progress. Morrison, as he has been renamed,  never lets Carly out of her sight and she rarely goes anywhere without him.

A dog is a dog, not a human. But they are so much better equipped to teach us how to open our hearts again.

Yap Stars

Yap Stars

In praise of little dogs

By Kelly Luker

WE'VE HEARD IT all before: "Is that a dog or a rat?" "Hey, a punt dog!" Or the highly original "Why don't you get a real dog?"

As far as membership in that sector of society still safe to belittle, we who own smaller canine breeds rate right up there with rednecks and the obese. Stereotypes abound, both for us and our pint-sized pals. We're airhead heiresses with a Shih Tzu parked in our Gucci bag or post-menopausal women who've restocked their empty nests with furry surrogates.

And oh, how they mock those poor dogs not quite tall enough to drink out of the toilet bowl. If a movie needs a punchline, a throwaway visual joke, bring in the Chihuahua. Or a bow-bedecked Papillon. Bantamweights really do need their own Al Sharpton to do a little barking on their behalf. Perhaps it's time to dispel a few of those tired old myths about us and our "kids," as so many of you are convinced that we call them.

Myth No. 1: Little dogs don't count as dogs.

Photograph by Felipe Buitrago
Yapper's delight: Buster Brown, rolling with Deputy Kim Allyn
of the Santa Cruz County Sheriff's Department

Oh yeah? Tell it to the American Kennel Club, which yearly ranks the most popular breeds. Almost half of the 10 top breeds to cycle up and down AKC's list for the past several years would barely clear your average Labrador's chubby thighs. We're talking Yorkies, Dachshunds, poodles, Shih Tzus, miniature Schnauzers, Pomeranians and Chihuahuas. As long as a burgeoning population of humans continue to cram themselves into ever-smaller living conditions, the little ones will eventually loom over the bigger lunks.

Myth No. 2: Tiny dogs bark more than big dogs.
Not really; it's just more grating. Those tiny vocal chords make for a higher-pitched yap. They're trying to communicate the same thing as German Shepherds or Rottweilers. They're anxious, they're lonely or they'd really appreciate it if you weren't all up in their grill. One sounds like a very large man asking if you want a piece of him. The other comes across like a kindergarten bully.

Myth No. 3: They snap and bite more often than the larger dogs.
Big dogs that bite will hurt people. They quickly change their behavior or end up on death row at the local shelter. Tiny jaws, however, rarely do much more than nip and annoy. Some of their less responsible guardians write it off as a small downside of a small dog.
It's true that your typical Chihuahua will not joyfully run up to slobber all over you like its bigger relatives. You, too, would be a little nervous if everyone you met were as tall as a six-story building. Additionally, most canines were originally bred to do some type of chore: bring down lions, retrieve birds, round up sheep. A Chihuahua was bred specifically for one job: companionship. That would be companion--singular, not plural.

Myth No. 4: The smaller they are, the harder they are to housebreak.
Yes, but it has nothing to do with bladder or brain size. Like their stealth-pooping, they just get away with it easier. Discovering where a Great Dane dropped its load is a lot easier than spotting droppings smaller than your pinkie. Trainers and dog behaviorists agree the best way to housebreak a puppy is to catch it in the act and quickly carry it outdoors while pouring on the praise. A youthful St. Bernard tends to make itself known as it prepares to squat, while a toy breed in its puppyhood can easily disappear behind a moderate-size potted plant. Also, it's easier to forgive a creature that leaves Jimmy Dean breakfast links vs. a steaming mini-Everest.

Myth No. 5: Only women and gay men leash themselves to dogs with balls the size of kibble.
As a middle-aged broad who tools around town with a car load of tiny yappy dogs, I'll be the first to admit that I fit quite snugly into this general preconception. So I would like to bestow the Golden Milk-Bone Award to Mickey Rourke, who attended this year's Academy Awards with a picture of his recently deceased Chihuahua Loki worn as a pendant around his neck. Showing further class, Rourke thanked all his Chihuahuas, past and present, when he won the Golden Globes for his turn in The Wrestler. He spoke for the legions of big, hunky men who don't think twice about a toy breed or two wrapped in their musclebound biceps.
It takes a real man to love a lapdog. A confident man, a fella comfortable with his sexuality. When hip-hop culture starts to venerate Pomeranians instead of pit bulls in videos, on T-shirts and in lyrics, we may grudgingly trust there actually is something inside of those baggy crotches they so love to grab.

Myth No. 6: We like our little dogs better than humans.
Oh, right, that one's true.

Myth No. 7: We think they're children.

Photograph by Felipe Buitrago
Glamor girl: Not only is Ella gorgeous, she's well-mannered too.

Finally, it's time to address this misguided assumption that our tiny charges take the place of children we wished we had. There are plenty who prefer a small, hairless, utterly dependent creature that takes up to four years to housebreak. Many more have committed themselves to young companions who scream "I want," fling food or collapse in a sobbing heap each time they are taken for a walk in public. When our Pekingese reaches the human equivalent of 14 years old, we do not worry about drug abuse, gang affiliations, morbid adolescent poetry or wonder what they do on the Internet hour after hour. Our "kids" set us back about $80-$100 for a six-week school session, not 15 grand a semester. We do not fear they'll lose their job and move back in with us. They never left.

We don't begrudge you and your muscle dogs (unless you're Michael Vick, of course). We'd just like a little respect. Think of us as dedicated environmentalists, just trying to leave an ever smaller pawprint on the planet.

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Kelly Luker runs Little Pup Lodge, a cage-free boarding and day care service created exclusively for small dogs. Reach her at Luker831@yahoo.com or visit LittlePup Lodge.

A Dog By Any Other Name

A little black Chihuahua re-re-named Cody  became the latest unpaid guest (i.e., foster) at Little Pup Lodge. The animal shelter had him listed as "Roker," a baffling moniker from such a studiously, painfully PC shelter as one would expect to find in a county like Santa Cruz. Perhaps an employee there had someone different in mind than the famed, newly-svelte weather anchor, but to be on the safe side we went with “Big Al.” We didn’t like that one either, so Name Number Three  should be the charm.

  Cody rocks!

Beach boy.

Cody is what we call a WTF shelter inhabitant, as in, “No one’s adopted him after three months? WTF!” He never barks, a phenomenally rare quality in Chihuahuas. He’s adorable. He likes kids and other dogs and is as smart as a whip (and no doubt smarter than a Whippet). Cody has a tiny problem distinguishing between the outdoors and my bedroom floor when it comes time to relieving himself.  This is most likely because he was never allowed indoors, a depressing thought for such a small, chronically-chilled breed. However, Cody has made progress to the puppy pad and it is but a mere few feet to the front door and the poop-appropriate yard beyond. The next big step? Finding his perfect family.

Little Lulu

People are idiots.
I really, really try to look for the good in people but some days it's really, really hard. A case in point:  The rescue group I volunteer for, Animal Shelter Relief, heard that a veritable tsunami of tiny dogs had flooded the local animal shelter. Very soon it would be time to bring out The Needle for some (or many) unlucky dogs.
Nickie and I showed up to pick up a new foster and, as we were leaving, Nickie promptly fell in love with Lulu. Lulu was a special needs kid; she had a broken pelvis and needed to remain crated for the next two months.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I will be needing a forever family in a couple of months. Thank you for asking. And I am so cute, you will have to take a number and stand in line.

Here is the story behind that broken pelvis. A couple driving by saw poor Lulu get hit by a car and stopped to pick her up. A nice gesture. They then took her home without bothering to  take her to the vet hospital. After two weeks, two weeks,  they decided that the gods of magical healing had not cast their wands over Lulu and dumped her at the animal shelter. A pelvis that may have healed quite a bit faster with immediate attention had begun to disintegrate into several bone fragments.
I never take more than one foster into my home at a time, so Lulu went home with Nickie. Which is exactly like going to my home. She lives in her crate or on Nickie's lap, going outside only long enough to take care of business.
Unlike most of us humans, Lulu does not know that she should be miserable and full of self-pity for this rotten turn of events in her life. In fact, young Lulu is full of joy and wiggles her butt so wildly when she gets excited that we fear she'll break her pelvis all over again.

Un petit ange,  je ne suis pas?

Lulu also does not know she ended up with the perfect foster mom. Since Nickie specializes in caring for old, ill or injured companion animals, she now has a perfect specimen upon which to practice her massage, Reiki and other healing techniques. Lulu is a lucky girl, but she does not know it. All Lulu knows is that she's insanely happy to be alive.

Gimme Sheltie

It's always exciting  when a new breed of dog checks in to Little Pup Lodge. That should give you an idea of what breathlessly fascinating lives we lead around here. This time it was a Sheltie named Grace. Shelties look a lot like Collies that hav been run through the dryer and got seriously shrunk.

That's amazing, Grace!

Grace brought along a wonderful temperament and extremely good manners. This counts for a lot with us. The Sheltie, a breed previously known as the Shetland Sheepdog, also brought her herding skills. The rest of the guests were good natured about it and allowed Grace to round them up. Grace did not stop at herding other dogs. Toss her a ball and she didn't chew or retrieve, but guided it around tight little circles.  I think she'd do a great job with my chickens.