Need for Mental Shift of Pet Ownership

A week ago, I was working with one of my sixth graders who is in our Deaf & Hard of Hearing program.  He has a cochlear implant and wears a hearing aid in the opposite ear.  We were using an app called Sentence Ninja where sentence parts are jumbled.  The student has to put the words in the correct order.  It is common for students with hearng loss to struggle with English word order and so I spend a great deal of time teaching sentence structure.  One of the sentences we encountered that day had the word "litter" in it.  My student easily put the words in the correct order, but when he signed the sentence to me, he used the sign "little."  Although the picture that went with the sentence showed trash spilling out of wastebasket, he had not understood the word litter.  It occurred to me that the words "little" and "litter" look exactly the same on the lips and would be indistinguishable to him.  In addition, ls and rs are phonetically very similar. 

After the student's session ended, I went to the internet to print out a set of minimal pair pictures to work with him the next time.  Minimal pairs are words which vary by only one sound and are often used in speech therapy.  I frequently use Google Images to create visuals for my students when we are working on unfamiliar vocabulary.  But photos on the internet can be dangerous.

Innocently, I typed in the word "litter." The first two pictures showed what most would typically call trash - fast food wrappers and cups, paper, etc. in an outdoor environment.  But the third picture made my stomach turn.  It was a photo of a dog on a beach with his head wrapped in pastic and duct tape.  I couldn't get away from that photo fast enough. Under "litter" was a whole subheading of "animals."  I couldn't look at it. My day turned from joy to despair.

The idea that dogs are commodities is all too prevalent in our society.  I hear more and more often of individuals who decide to breed dogs for the lure of money.  Many of these dogs are sold for hundreds of dollars when they are not papered and their lineage is unknown.  Dogs are kept in deplorable conditions for the purpose of breeding for money.  On the otherhand, other dogs are viewed as an accessory similar to a Coach handbag or Jimmy Choo shoes.  When the dog develops undesirable behaviors, it is disposed of (relinquished or euthanized) or traded in for a new one.

After I adopted Pongo, I became very interested in shelter animals. Why do so many people give up their dogs? I wondered.  As I began to do research for my book Rescuing Pongo, I looked for data that would answer my question.  I came across one article in The Journal of Applied Animal Welfare Science titled "Understanding Animal Companion Surplus in the United States: Relinquishment of Nonadoptables to Animal Shelters for Euthanasia."  Published in 2001 by a group of veterinarians who compiled their data via questionnaire at local animal shelters, the very title refers to animals as a commodity in economical terms.  While the largest percentage of people who relinquished their dogs for euthanasia cited "old age" as the reason, other reasons included aggression toward people or animals, disobedience, excessive vocalization, escape, fear toward people, destructiveness inside or outside the home, house soiling and hyperactivity (jumping on people). 

Sadly, most of these behaviors can be changed through education, exercise, and positive behavioral modification with a qualified trainer.  Living in a society of excess, we need to shift our thinking.  Pets are not a commodity that can be tossed out as trash. They are living beings with heart and soul. 

Snowshoeing Near Price Creek

Pongo and I were invited to go snowshoeing with friends last Saturday.  We met at 8:30 in North Bend at the outlet mall, then carpooled to the trailhead.  We bought a Sno-Park Day Pass at the North Bend Chevron.  I also purchased extra water and a lemon Luna bar for my pack as well.  We took I-90 over Snoqualmie Pass to exit 62 (Lake Kachess), then got back on the freeway traveling West in order to take exit 61 to Price Creek.  The parking lot was piled with hills of snow towering ten feet high or more.  A dozen trucks and cars were parked, some with trailers or ramps angeled off the back of the truckbed.  It turned out that Price Creek is popular for snowmobiles as well as snowshoeing. 

It took awhile for me to figure out how to put my snowshoes on.  I bought them as a Christmas present to myself in 2006 but had only used them a couple of times since.  There were five of us in our expedition - six if you count Pongo.  My friend Carola and her daughter, Crystal, Wendy and her husband Steve.  It was immediately clear to me that they were far more experienced at snowshoeing than I.  They wore all-weather gear and hiking packs that I was sure were filled with emergency supplies.  I had forgotten a water-proof jacket (what was I thinking!) and was only wearing hiking pants, a long-sleeved hoodie and a vest.  I had decided against my hiking boots at the last minute and opted for my running shoes instead.  Wendy loaned me an extra pair of gaiters to try and keep my feet and calves dry.  I felt a little embarrassed that I wasn't more prepared.

I tied a red bandana with white snowflakes around Pongo's neck so he wouldn't be mistaken for a bear or some other wild animal.  He immediately bounded ahead of me on the trail, staying with Steve, who started out in front of the group.  Pongo loves to be at the front.  Having  hiked with him now for twelve years, I knew he would circle back, keeping his eye on me, and keeping track of where everyone was in the group.

Though I will never know what breed(s) he is, I am certain there is a herding breed in him somewhere.  Up the packed trail we went. It was a beautiful, cool day but I soon worked up a sweat. The trail started out fairly steep although our directions said the elevation gain was less than 1000 feet.  After a half hour or so, I noticed Pongo pausing to stare into the forest.  I thought maybe he smelled or saw a wild animal.  But soon we could hear the whine of snowmobiles.  I put Pongo back on his leash.  He had heard the snowmobiles first.  As they neared, Pongo began to pull hard and I knew he would slip out of his collar soon.  He was scared of the loud machines.  I wrapped my arms around him to hold his entire body and in doing so, fell into deep snow. At the side of the trail, the snow was soft and several feet deep.  I soon discovered that my poles disappeared almost to the top of the handles in the soft powder.  I struggled to get up after the snowmobiles had passed.  It sure is tricky

We hiked for a couple more hours, then took a break for lunch. Steve left the trail and climbed up a hill to look for a good spot.  Everyone followed him, taking off their packs and sitting in the snow.  Pongo stood on the trail, barking at us, refusing to follow.  "You think he has some herding dog in him?"  She teased.  Yep!  Pongo seemed to be telling us we were supposed to keep to the trail.  I went down and put him on his leash, and only then did he follow me up the hillside.  He sat between Carola and I as we began to unpack our lunch.  Pongo shared a peanut butter sandwhich with me, as is our hiking routine.  He got REALLY excited, though, when Wendy pulled smoked salmon out of her pack. I readily accepted her offer to share, and juggled trying to put small chunks of salmon on the Ritz crackers I had brought and keeping Pongo's quick tongue from beating me to a bite.  Silly Po!  No smoked salmon for you!

Instead of continuing to the ridge which now seemed within reach, we decided to turn back and return to the parking lot.  It was starting to rain and I was quickly getting soaked.  Pongo took off at a trot, seeming to want to get back to the car in a hurry.  I wondered if his feet were cold, or if he was just tired.  Maybe the snow had aggravated his arthritis and his legs were starting to stiffen.

Back at the car, Pongo jumped into the back seat and lay down.  We were both wet but blissfully happy.  This is what it's all about living in the Pacific Northwest!  I love spending the day among trees, being with Pongo, staying on the move, enjoying nature and getting some exercise.  When Pongo and I moved from Washington DC at the end of 2005, this is what I had in mind.  Although we had hiked in our early city days together, I liked the idea of living near big mountains, thinking our lives would be full of endless hiking adventures.  But when we got here, I didn't know anyone who liked to hike.  I have been cautious about hiking alone since I have a horrible sense of direction and don't read maps well! I am so thankful to new friendships with those who share our passion for hiking!  Thank you for allowing Pongo and I to join in your adventures! 

The next day, Pongo and I slept for most of the day.  It felt luxurious to lounge about, napping and watching tv.  It's not often that I allow myself to do nothing for an entire day.  We are ready for another adventure in snowshoeing before the snow disappears for the winter!

      Carola stops for a snack mid-hike.