I made this gallery to illustrate how much more apparent the cohesiveness of our little pack becomes when we move off territory. Each of us is constantly aware of the whereabouts of each of the others. The dogs check in with me and almost always come when called. They tag after each other, often sniffing or peeing (only Cleo and Benny) on the same things. I’ve seen them all sniffing the same dog at once and usually they just go through the procedure and then take off all at once, having apparently satisfied themselves that the dog under scrutiny is no problem to them.  We had a couple of tense moments this spring with Cleo exercising her penchant for large intact males and leading the rest of the pack to the vicinity of a fine specimen; unfortunately intact males of any size are the kind of dogs that I need to keep Benny away from.  But we were lucky and got a leash on Cleo and “leave it” was uttered before things got out of hand with Benny.

Arlo is just about a year old now and is typically enamoured of playing with other dogs. He even plays by himself, tossing toys and catching it, or dropping objects in water and knocking them around with his paws. He is a natural retriever,  especially in water. He is low dog on the totem pole but cheerful nonetheless. He remains confident with new dogs but somewhat less so with new people.  He can be a bit of a toy hoarder, walking around with two raw hides in his mouth while Benny and Cleo ignore him. I take them away because I can see how much it stresses him to have to guard the objects. His submissive displays are high dramas often culminating in peeing. I try to stage manage them outside. He is physically daring and unafraid of strange objects. He jumps through a hoop easily. He is gentle with people but he can be clumsy. In general he exudes an air of happiness. He’s glad he’s a dog. He’s glad he’s alive.

The last three pictures are of the dogs eating the frozen marrow bones they got that after the walk that day. The way I see it is that the walk replaces the hunt for the domestic dog pack and as the hunt, if it is successful, culminates in sharing food so should the walk.

At this time of year when we are very aware of our dwindling ration of natural light I thought it timely to post some of my photos that I call “Just the Light”. And that’s what they are…photographs of light.

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I had the opportunity this summer to see a side of Benny that only exists when he’s a country dog, Benny the hunter. Chipmunks were his prime targets with frogs and snakes a close second. Fortunately for them they most often escaped unscathed. Benny turned three this summer and he is in peak shape. His strength and his agility are as good as they’ll ever be. This summer he was more successful as a hunter than he’d ever been previously.

Watching Benny in this role was quite thought-provoking. It gave rise, in particular, to an interesting question. If I am the pack leader, why am I not leading the hunt? Why isn’t it my head in that chipmunk’s burrow? He was in hot pursuit of prey and I was the observer and occasional documenter of his prowess. Didn’t this in some way undermine my role as leader? We had our daily power walks out to Highway 7, just Benny and I. I thought of these walks as surrogate hunts with me in charge. We did, in his case sniff and in mine visually inspect the tracks and spoor of a variety of potential prey. However, and I say this perhaps a little wistfully, we did not go bounding through the bush, hot on the trail of deer or rabbit or anything at all.  We never shared a kill. Doesn’t this make the hunts I led a little lame?  How could our walks compare to the hunts he initiated himself? The question I kept asking myself  in regard to this point is, how did Benny interpret events? Dare I say, what did he make of it all?

The afternoon that Benny had the chipmunk holed up under a sheet of plywood I photographed him over a period of about four hours. Between bouts of digging under the plywood and trying to flip it up with his nose he would stand or lie down as if to rest and just look at the sheet of plywood as though it was a puzzle. He did finally manage to jam his head under the sheet and catch the chipmunk, which he swiftly dispatched by shaking. Never had I seen him so very intense and he is quite often intense. Then he ran behind the house with it and just left it there and sauntered, in that particular way he does, down to the lake for a huge drink. Then he fell asleep in the shade. I certainly had the sense that he was deeply satisfied. After these long hunting sessions he would sleep for hours, regardless of the outcome.

It was very exciting for me,  to see Benny being so uninhibitedly his “natural self”. (That is  very loaded language  but I can’t think of a term that is more apt.)It  evoked in me a sense of awe. It reminded me of one of the  reasons that so many of us deem our lives to be incomplete without dogs. Dogs provide us with a link to a distant past of which we are unlikely to have any memory. They connect us to our more primal selves. I think that it is in some way vital to maintain that connection because it is a necessary counter balance to the  overly civilized and sanitized contemporary part (That is to say most of it.) of our  lives.

I puzzled over the question of whether or not my leadership was somehow subverted by Benny’s skill as a hunter. After all, people still do hunt with their dogs and they’re obviously the ones in charge. They’re the ones with the gun with the telescopic sight, not to mention the GPS they’re carrying. Somehow that all seems a bit removed from my experience. I’m a vegetarian although my dogs certainly are not.  The question to which  I keep returning is, how did these various events “seem” to Benny? What did Benny think? It didn’t appear that Benny took me any less seriously as a leader,but I must confess that he, in the heat of one of his pursuits, is close to impossible to call off or distract. If I can manage to get his leash on he then seems to hear me and will come with me, albeit reluctantly.

I’m still not sure just what the implications are of Benny’s independent hunting other than the fact that it is supremely satisfying for him. Hopefully there will be other opportunities for him to hunt and for me to observe his technique. Even if it does in some way make him feel more in charge of himself and the situation I’m not sure that’s a negative thing. Can one speak of self-actualization in terms of a canine? I think so; any dog that has work only becomes more himself through the execution of his work.  Besides which, Benny seems to enjoy the process immensely; it is a challenge. That can only be a positive thing.

Dogs really are most interested in each other. They love to play and just hang out together. My three are having a great time in the backyard in September. Benny is the big blond; Arlo is the puppy and Cleo is the basenji. Observe all the “dog” being spoken in these shots!

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A great deal of life certainly unfolds with amazing rapidity for a  mother of ten who also shares her life with three cats, three dogs and a long-suffering husband.  All this activity drastically cuts into the time available for creative pursuits such as playing Bach on the piano, photography,  not to mention writing. Still there is an urge to write and blogging seems to be a more approachable form than say writing a novel or even a dog training manual. The thought of a large scale writing project is intimidating enough to produce a massive case of writers’ block.

So I’m intending to set forth here something in the form of a  journal, a record of my life with dogs, mine and other peoples’. I’d like to talk  about dog walking as that is what I’m doing these days.  It an activity that affords many opportunities for observation of the environment. The weather is hard to ignore when you’re out in it all the time.  The sky, the trees and plant life in parks and gardens provides a constantly changing scene. There is definitely a meditative quality possible for a dog walker and a special link that occurs between human and dog on a good walk. The walk has replaced the hunt in the contemporary dog’s repertoire. It is a bonding time for the pack. I think that it is good if the dog is given some food upon returning home, to the den. You should feed this snack to the dog with your hand thereby reminding him that you are a good leader and provider. If he associates your scent with the things that are desirable and even necessary to him he will bond with you and accept your leadership.

I’m thinking about leadership and pack dynamics quite a bit right now. Having a growing puppy in the pack makes for lots of interaction and drawing of lines in the sand. It is the best policy to avoid interfering most of the time in dog to dog interactions.  Manners always need to be corrected either by you or another of the dogs. Pack members join forces to raise a pup. Among the most satisfying interactions I’ve had to date raising Arlo are those instances in which I’ve seen Benny using good judgement in disciplining the puppy.   Arlo has been misbehaving, indulging in  what I refer to as “senseless” barking.  Benny will growl and show teeth and sometimes even lunge but not connect. Senseless barking ends immediately and puppy does a down. Benny will then make eye contact with me and I say, “Good work.” It only makes sense; Benny knows that barking like that is not allowed. Benny, who uses his barks sparingly and was taught to speak to request a door be opened, is not about to tolerate much in the way of “senseless” barking. In fact he enforces the rules as he has been taught them. That’s a real plus for me; if Arlo doesn’t know what I’m saying because I am less than perfectly fluent in ‘dog’ he never fails to get Benny’s meaning. Dog speak is nothing if not succinct. Pack leaders do not whine or plead or cajole. It’s crucial to remember that when dealing with your dog. A whining leader has zero credibility. Keep it short and to the point. Use your body at least as much as your voice. Dogs understand dog talk. They can learn words in any language as triggers for various behaviours or objects but when it comes to asserting leadership body language is the most effective.

As I see things now I need to make some strong leadership statements as Arlo grows up. He may challenge Benny and Cleo but not me. There are moments when it is tempting to give into his puppy cuteness and silliness and laugh at his naughtiness but that would be a big mistake. Of course he’s trying it all on.  I only have to imagine what he’s thinking. Maybe humans really do like to be jumped up upon. Maybe they really do want to chase me all over the house to recover their socks! Maybe they think my counter cruising is cute and that my tearing between their legs in the doorway is only puppy stuff. But no, his antics need to be interrupted firmly and consistently in a manner that gives puppy no reward for his undesirable behaviour. The “leave it”  command is invaluable and off is a big help too. I like to put him into a down when he gets silly. That doesn’t mean that I can’t play and be a little crazy with him but it happens outside, it happens when  I want it to, it doesn’t involve objects that aren’t toys, and I decide when it’s over.

I managed to get a shot of Steele that shows his edginess just as it is. I can’t help having the north on my mind as the Iditarod mushers took off today and part of me wants to be in the wilderness with only dogs for company. I’ve read a number of books this winter about both the Iditarod and The Yukon Quest sled dog races. So I’m getting to know some of mushers by reputation and anecdote. It is exciting in that raw kind of way that is so quintessentially northern.

As an aside, I was thinking about something that I read on Jon Katz’s blog last week. Apparently he has been receiving email from people who question the humaneness of allowing his phenomenal sheep herding Border Collie Rose to risk injuries that could arise from the performance of her duties. Jon addresses the issue eloquently. It would be inhumane not let Rose do her work; it is her purpose. This is a dog that never likes the sheep to be out of her sight. It occurred to me that that the same may be said of sled dogs, particularly those teams that run the Iditarod. It is what they want to do above all else. I have read that a whole yard full of dogs will go berserk at the sight of a human with an armful of harnesses. We do not do dogs any kindness at all by attempting to suppress their essential nature.