New Friends

I was scheduled to meet a co-worker and her dog at Little Si this morning for a hike.  Over the summer, she adopted Zed, a mixed breed, black and white spotted dog who looks similar to Calder (my sister's dog).  We have been meaning to introduce Pongo and Zed, but the start of school is always busy and the weeks have whizzed by. 

After a hectic school week, we decided this would be a good weekend for us to finally get them together.  We have had the most beautiful fall that I can ever remember.  It has been largely dry with mild temperatures for the past two months - extremely atypical for the Pacific Northwest.  The past week, however, the fog rolled in and stayed and when I got up this morning, it was raining. 

I feared Julia would cancel, but to my relief, she didn't.  You can't be a fair-weather hiker in the Pacific Northwest, or you'll only get to hike a few weeks of the year.  There were only a few cars in the parking lot when I arrived and to my surprise, Julia had not one but two dogs with her.  She explained that the black one, Oso, belonged to friends and that she was dog-sitting for the weekend. 

Pongo's motto is: "The more the merrier!"

Socialization is crucial for both humans and dogs.  Can you imagine being completely isolated with another species, never getting to converse with another human like you? Knowing this, I have always tried to give Pongo opportunities to be with other dogs.  Though it has been harder since moving to Washington state.  It often takes planning.  I live in a neighborhood where people who are walking their dogs cross the street when they see us.  The majority will not stop to let their dog say hello. There are many dog owners in Washington state that believe leaving their dog in the backyard gives them what they need.  Their dogs never leave the house or yard and only socialize with the family and whatever other pets are in the home.

Pongo, Zed and Oso bounded up the trail together.  They were all about the same size and looked adorable together!  As we hiked, I was struck by Zed and Oso's boundless energy.  They chased each other back and forth while Pongo trotted sedately, most often by my side or only a few yards ahead of me.  It is in these instances that I am reminded that Pongo is an old dog.  He simply could not keep up with them.  But he didn't care - he was happy to be outside in the cool, wet air.

 

 Julia gives the dogs water at the summit.

The fog was thick, obscuring the view of Mt. Si.

  

We lingered at the summit, taking time to eat a snack and water the dogs before heading back down.  While we had seen only a couple people as we neared the summit, on the way down we encountered many other hikers of all ages, as well as a fair number of dogs.

 

 

Eva poses with Zed, Pongo and Oso at the trailhead.

 

We finished the hike in 2 hours and 40 minutes.  I love it that Pongo and I can disappear into the woods, climb a mountain and then still have the whole day ahead of us.  After we said goodbye, I drove through North Bend and stopped to buy a big cup of green tea at a drive-through coffee stand. This has become another one of our rituals after cold, wet hikes in North Bend. After giving me my tea, the woman gave me a dog treat for Pongo.  Instead of eating it, he began pushing it with his nose, burying it in the sheet I'd spread to cover the back seat.  He lay down and went to sleep.

 

On the way home, we stopped at Mud Bay and bought him a bully stick.  When we arrived, I unwrapped it for him.  He lay down on the living room carpet and got right to chewing.  I swear he had a smile on his face.  Now that's a good day in the life of a dog . . .

 

Jealousy

Pongo is a momma's boy.  During Pongo and my early years together I was single. Although I dated, I did not have a steady boyfriend.  Most of the people who came to my home were women.  Pongo received my undivided attention much of the time when we were together. 

I didn't notice a difference in Pongo's behavior when I started dating my husband in 2008 until we moved in together in 2009.  Then, Pongo started displaying signs of jealousy.  When I would stand in the kitchen embracing my husband and we would kiss, Pongo would come stare us down and bark.  We tried telling him, "it's okay" or telling him "no," but to this day I can't hug and kiss my husband without Pongo protesting.

When I was single, Pongo slept at the foot of my bed with me.  But when Del and I decided to merge our homes, Pongo was then relegated to sleeping on the floor at the end of the bed.  If Del went to bed first and I climbed into bed later, it wasn't a problem.  But if I went to bed first and Del tried to crawl into bed with me, Pongo would growl and nip at him. This was alarming to both of us.  My gentle, sweet Pongo did not like my husband getting in bed with me! 

At the time, I was taking Pongo to advanced obedience classes, and when I confided in the instructor about this new behavior, she suggested that we try using Bitter Apple.  Bitter Apple is a product that you spray in the dog's mouth or on items you don't want them to chew.  It has a very bitter taste and dogs really dislike it.  The advice is that when the dog engages in an undesirable behavior, you spray it once into their mouth.  The next time the dog engages in the behavior, you spray it twice, and so on, increasing the spray each time until the dog learns not to do "it" anymore. 

Pongo, as expected, hated the taste of Bitter Apple. When he got his first spray of it, he immediately jumped off the bed and stopped growling.  The next time it happened, he jumped off the bed as soon as we picked up the bottle.  But Pongo continued to growl and sometimes nip at Del when he would come to bed.  Del and Pongo spent much of their time together in 2009.  The economy had tanked and Del had been laid off from work like many others.  Pongo spent the days following Del around the house and yard until I would get home in the late afternoon.  It hurt Del's feelings that they could be best friends during the day and then Pongo would turn on him when he tried to get in bed with me at night. 

Finally, I realized that the behavior had started when we moved Del's bed out of the bedroom and replaced it with the queen-sized bed that Pongo and I had always slept on before I had met him.  I hypothesized that the scent of that bed had something to do with him claiming it. We decided to swap them out and put Del's bed back.  Amazingly, it worked.  The territorial behavior stopped. 

Pongo has adjusted to being part of a family and loves Del.  But he is his momma's boy. When I come home, he greets me excitedly and wants to be by my side (unless Daddy's in the kitchen, then he becomes Del's shadow in hopes that he'll be given a little nibble here and there).  Sometimes when I am away, Pongo will sit or lay down by the back gate for hours, watching for my car to return. 

 

My wedding at Ponderosa State Park, McCall, Idaho, August 6, 2010.

I guess the jealousy goes two ways sometimes.  I like to say to Pongo, "who's my best boy?" and sometimes my husband replies, "I am."  I love both the men in my life.  In 2002, Pongo changed the way I looked at the world.  He gave me peace.  In 2008, Del brought me love and devotion and gave me hope for the future.  He gave me what I'd always wanted: a family.

Magnusen Off-Leash Dog Park

Warren G. Magnusen Park spans 350 acres at Pontiac Bay, Lake Washington and is located in the Sand Point neighborhood. It is the second largest (after Discovery Park) in Seattle.  This park was a former Navy airfield which was decomissioned in the 1970s.  The City Council agreed to develop it into a recreational facility in 1976 and named it after Warren G. Magnusen, who was a longtime Washington politician and served as a senator for almost forty years.

The Magnuson Off-Leash Dog Park was created in 1999.  It is Seattle’s biggest fenced dog play area with 9 acres of land, and is the only off-leash area inside city limits with water access. Pongo and I have been coming here since 2006 or 2007.  What used to be about a twenty-minute drive from my Beacon Hill home is now a forty-five to sixty-minute drive from Bonney Lake.  Needless to say, we don't come very often anymore.  It is a special treat that we do maybe six times a year. 

Pongo has always been highly social and loves to have play time with other dogs.  I learned very early on after adopting him the important role of dog parks.  Living in an apartment in DC, Pongo often spent ten to twelve hours a day indoors waiting for me to come home from work.  I discovered that giving him time off-leash to run, wrestle and play with other dogs wore him out much faster than taking him for a walk or a jog.  In addition, the socialization gave him time to be a dog.  He would come home happy and spent.  It was a regular part of our weekly routine at that time.  Now, Pongo has a lot less time to be with other dogs and he misses it.

The weather forecast today was for a dry day and mild temperatures - something I cherish this time of year.  Instead of going for a hike, I decided to give Pongo some doggie play time.  We left for Seattle shortly after 10 am this morning.   From I-5, we took the 45th Avenue exit and drove through the University of Washington campus.  Continuing on 45th, we passed Children's Hospital and the road turned into Sand Point Way NE.  At NE 74th Street, we turned right into the former naval complex. 

   We passed the community garden and the children's playground area.

Once inside, I took off Pongo's leash and he headed across the open play area  to the walkway that leads to the water. No longer interested in playing ball, probably because of arthritis, Pongo loves to spend his time on the beach playing with doggie friends.

He always finds a golden retriever to play with - his favorite breed, he always singles them out at the dog park.  I think he likes blondes...

View to the right of the beach. Kids, as well as dogs, like to play on the uprooted tree.

 

Pongo refuses to swim, but loves to wade knee-deep into the water.

 

      
         A view of the shoreline.

     View looking back from the beach.

This shows one of the long walkways from the play areas that leads to the shoreline.  Pongo sniffs along the fence line where many have passed before him.

This large play area looks toward the parking area.  On the other side of the shelter is a smaller, fenced-in area for small dogs. 

 

At the entrance/exit there are a couple water stations where owners can hose off their sand and mud-caked dogs and give them a fresh drink.

 

When we left, Pongo and I walked over to a food truck parked between the soccer fields and the children's play area.  I bought a 20 oz. caramel macchiato and a turkey hot dog with dijon mustard and sauerkraut.  I sat down in the grass and Pongo sat next to me, begging.  I pinched off bits off hot dog and bun and shared with him.  For years, I fed him only commercial dog food and treats.  But when I got married, my husband couldn't say no to Pongo's soulful eyes when he had food in his hands - especially meat.  Ignoring my protests, my husband would feed him scraps, saying: "I've never had a dog before."  Now, the excuse is that Pongo is an old dog and should enjoy life.  Even I give in sometimes, but only on special occasions, like when we go for a hike, or are on a long car drive and Pongo is hungry - or today.  Even I have become an old softy.

Skookum Flats

I researched this hike a couple of weeks ago, but ended up not going because it was pouring rain.  It had been raining for at least five days.  The damp cold made me want to curl up under a blanket and read a book.  I made my apologies to Pongo and promised him we would go when the sun shone once again.  This was the weekend! Two days of mild temperatures and blue skies. 

As soon as we got in the car, Pongo started whining.  He refused to sit in the back seat and stood up with his front paws over the gear shift.  This makes it very hard for me to drive, but I have tried several commercial dog seatbelts and Pongo always gets out of them, earning him the nickname of Houdini Po.  I gave up on those long ago. 

As I drove the backroads to Buckley, Pongo whined and yipped with excitement.  He didn't used to do that.  I believe he learned it from my sister's dog, Calder.  Calder is an obsessive-compulsive ball dog and will whine incessantly in the car when he knows you are going somewhere he perceives has a big reward at the end ... i.e. a park or river where you will throw the ball for him.  Pongo and Calder became best friends the summer of 2006.  I was contracting with the Federal Way Schools District, so I only got paid the nine months I was working.  I ended up working in Moscow, Idaho that summer at Gritman Memorial Hospital.  I lived with my parents and often biked the ten miles or so to work.  I took Pongo and Calder for many hikes, runs and walks over those two and a half months. 

A year later, my sister was diagnosed with breast and thyroid cancer at 37.  While she was going through chemotherapy and radiation, Calder came to stay with me for about six weeks.  She didn't have the energy to provide him with the daily exercise he needed.  I would take Pongo and Calder to the dog park to play ball and Calder would whine the entire way there.  Pongo began to imitate him.  I noticed after Calder had gone home that Pongo continued to whine on the way to the dog park.  Gradually, he began to do it to other places he liked, and the behavior was generalized.  This is a good example of how dogs learn from each other - both positive and negative behavior!  Thanks, Calder!

To get to Skookum Flats, we drove from Buckley on 410 to Enumclaw then continued on twenty five miles.  Soon after passing the town of Greenwater, we came to Forest Service (FS) Road 73 and turned right.  We passed over a one-lane car bridge spanning over the White River to a small parking lot .  There was only one other car in the lot.  We found the trailhead on the left side of the road. 

I chose this particular hike because it has very little elevation in climb.  It is a fairly flat trail that meanders along the White River.  Though you cannot always see the river, you can hear its rush continually as you hike to Skookum Falls.  The perfect hike for an aging dog.

Although the temperatures were in the sixties, I felt chilled as we set off.  I wished I had a jacket, but had come only with a thin, long-sleeved, synthetic Nike shirt.  It took me thirty minutes of hiking before I finally warmed up.  But I quickly fell in love with this trail.    There were old decaying cedars along the way.

 The trail wound through the forest and then back to the river, never veering far away.

There were enormous downed trees that had been cut to let hikers through.   We traipsed over boarded walkways that covered shallow streams, where Pongo often stopped to drink.  Which was a good thing, because when I sat down on a log and pulled my water bottle out from my backpack, I set it down on the ground momentarily.  Thirsty, Pongo decided to help himself to some water and knocked it over.  I grabbed it quickly before all the water could drain out. 

At one point, a steep rock face wall hugged the trail as it descended.  To my delight, it was covered in starry moss, tiny shoots of ferns, and leaves that looked like a climbing vine.  I put my hand out and touched it as I stepped down over tree roots and around rocks. It was luxurious as velvet.

We came across many different mushrooms growing up out of the forest floor.  Other mushrooms grew on the trees, jutting out of the bark like hand holds on a commercial climbing wall. 

We were alone on the trail for more than half an hour.  I doubted whether we would see another soul.  But then we came across three older gentleman coming towards us with hiking poles and packs.  I wondered if they belonged to the Subaru I had parked next to which had a Northwest Trails Association sticker in the window.   One asked me what my dog's name was and I told him.

"Congo?" he asked.

"Pongo with a P,"  I replied.  I get that a lot.  I understand.  P and K are both unvoiced, high frequency sounds.  They are hard to hear.  Congo is a more familiar word and people's minds fill in the unheard sound with something that makes sense to them.  (There's a little speech pathology trivia for you.)  "Pongo was the daddy dog in 101 Dalmations," I continue, "not that he looks anything like a Dalmation."

They tell me I am near the falls and continue on their way.  Once we get closer, I am delighted that I can hear the water.  I thought that after a long, uncharacteristically hot summer in the Pacific Northwest, that it might be dry.  Perhaps the two weeks of recent rain had made it flow again.  Half-way from the top of the falls and a pristine view of the water cascading down, I found a log to sit on.  I took off my pack and decided it was a lovely place to eat lunch.  Pongo sat facing me, staring up at me with his playful eyes, begging for bites of my peanut butter sandwich.  It is our hiking ritual.  I broke off bits - one for you, one for me.  To my dismay, my camera phone had stopped working, and I am unable to get a photo of the falls.

After we had finished eating, I decided to try to hike to the top before turning around.  Pongo bounded up the steep trail like a mountain goat, or a young dog.  I chuckled to myself.  He continues to surprise me.  He paused to look back at me, "Come on!" he seemed to say.  I hadn't brought my hiking poles.  It was steep and my running shoes slipped periodically on the moist surface.  Still, I was more worried about Pongo falling than I was of myself.  Three quarters of the way up, I decided to go back down. 

Then, as we headed back the way we had come, I began to jog.  I was in my bliss.  Dwarfed by trees, the sound of the river in my ears, Pongo bounding ahead of me on the trail, then coming back to make sure I was still coming, his laughing smile and cocked head reminded me of my favorite childhood book, Where The Red Fern Grows.   The story of a boy and his hunting dogs, they spend endless days together in the forest.  I can't help think that this is where man (or woman) and their dogs belong - in nature together.

Pongo and I trade the lead, running, walking back to the trailhead. 

Urinary Accidents

Last weekend, my cousin Jen and her family came for a visit.  We decided to take her kids to a nearby school track for some exercise.  Her eleven year old son, Sam, is on a cross country team and had brought his running shoes.  Selah, who is seven, insisted that she did not want to run and wore her stylish, fuzzy boots to the track.  She wanted to walk Pongo while Sam and I ran.  Selah has grown up around dogs and is a budding dog trainer.  When I was single and living in Seattle, I used to leave Pongo with Jen whenever I went out of town.  Selah has been around Pongo since she was an infant.  She loves to work Pongo, having him "sit" or "lie down" for treats. 

We piled into my Saturn, Selah in charge of Pongo's leash, and drove to the middle school.  As we walked from the parking lot, Pongo stopped to mark on a bush, then we continued along the sidewalk.  Jen pointed out that Pongo left drops of urine on the cement.  I stopped to look.  I had never noticed that before.  Jen explained how her dog, Keone, had exhibited that same trait when she developed Cushing's Disease at the end of her life.  Urinary accidents are one of the telltale symptoms of Cushing's, one that becomes frequent as the disease progresses.  Jen explained that when it first started, Keone would go to the bathroom, and then have trouble turning off the flow, leaving droplets of urine as she walked away. 

Suddenly, I felt shocked and numb.  A couple weeks before, we had thunderstorms in the morning.  It was a weekday and I had to go to work.  Terrified of thunder, Pongo was shaking and on my heels as I got ready to leave. Later, Ashley told us that he had behaved the same way with her when she got ready for school, and had tried to follow her out the door.  During the day sometime, he had an accident in the basement, leaving urine all over.  It was the second time since June that he had had an accident during a thunderstorm.  Now here was another sign that he was starting to lose urinary control.

I thought of the conversation I had with Dr. Lamb on September 5th.  We have been monitoring Pongo's liver enzymes and went in for a blood draw the first week of September.  Dr. Lamb called me back to talk about the results.  His liver enzymes remained very high, but had gone down a little bit since the previous test in June.  She explained that the elevated liver enzyme could be:

• an inflammatory response to something in his body, for example the arthritis in his knees, or it could be a problems with one of his organs

or:

• it could be an endocrine disease such as Cushing's

Dr. Lamb explained that they generally don't treat Cushing's until the symptoms are really bad, so she did not recommend testing Pongo at this point.  Other symptoms for Cushing's include drinking lots of water and heavy panting.  Pongo has already started exhibiting these symptoms as well, but they are minor.  My gut feeling tells me he is probably developing Cushing's, and that his elevated liver enzymes are not due to a problem in one of his organs.  We could spend a lot of money doing testing and x-rays, but Pongo is terrified of the vet.  He is otherwise healthy and happy, and so Del and I have decided that putting him through that trauma is not worth it. Nor will we do any more surgeries.  Pongo's lump is coming back on his penis, nearby where the lump was removed sixteen months ago.  Dr. Lamb says it could be the nerve sheath tumor coming back, or it could be benign.  We have decided not to find out.  Pongo is nearing his thirteenth birthday.   We are now focusing on quality of life and enjoying every moment we have with him.  We hope it will be a couple more years.

I took off running around the track.  Pongo pulled against the leash in Selah's hands.  He is a momma's boy and wanted to be with his Momma.  Selah ran across the infield with him, catching me on the opposite side of the track.  They ran alongside me in the grass.  And so it went, Selah and Pongo sprinting back and forth across the infield to catch me, running with me for a ways, then resting.  He looked like a three year old again, pulling with boundless energy.

      Selah rests with Pongo after running more than a mile.

As I write, Pongo is laying down behind my chair, sighing.  He has his head on the floor between his paws in the way that he does when he is trying to remind me in his quiet way that he needs a walk.  In the eleven+ years that we have been together, I have learned to read his subtle, nonverbal cues.   Sorry, Pongo, I get the message.  I will draw myself away from my computer and put on some shoes.  It is time for us to go outside.  Our time.

Taking the ORT

Friday, September 13, 2013 - what an inauspicious date, but that was the date we were registered for Pongo's Odor Recognition Test (The ORT).  Oh, come on!, you say - surely you're not superstitious!  Well, no, of course not, but it's hard not to have that in the back of your head swimming around. Maybe that accounted for the butterflies in my stomach.  Or maybe it was my innate shyness or the anxiety that I have lived with for so many years that still rears up.  Or that we had been preparing for this all summer and the long-awaited day was finally here.

I had tried to follow our nose work instructor's advice as closely as possible.  Although we didn't practice every day, we practiced several times a week.  We concentrated very heavily on working with boxes set up like they would be at the ORT - two rows of six.  And I took him to many different locations to get him used to distractions and having to work in an unfamiliar place.  We practiced at the park, a nearby elementary school, in the Target parking lot, and at a friend's house.  Our instructor also suggested that the day of the ORT, I take boxes with me and stop along the way somewhere to practice, then make sure we ran through the practice boxes set up at the ORT. 

It was being held at Paws-Abilities Dog Training Center in Fife. I had scheduled to take the afternoon off from work, as we were supposed to arrive at 3:30 for a briefing and the testing would start at 4:00 pm.  I left school at about 11:45 and got home shortly before 12:30.  I have never been to Paws-Abilities and so I looked it up on mapquest and settled on a route. Driving to an unfamiliar place always makes me nervous, but reading through the directions, I thought I generally new where it was located. 

Next, I took Pongo for a 45 minute walk to get out some of his energy and make sure he peed and pooped.  This is a ritual of ours whenever we have to go somewhere where he will have to ride in the car a long time, has to go to the vet, or he has class.  Having a walk that gives ample time for elimination is calming for dogs.  A dog that has to poop or pee is a distracted one that won't settle down or focus on the task you are asking of them.  

At home, I started packing a bag. I cut up hot dogs to reward him with, put them on a tray and baked them in the oven at 250 for eight minutes.  This helps to dry them out a bit so they are not so slimy.  I made two ziploc bags of them, then filled a water bottle.  I brought Pongo's yellow blanket for him to lay down on, his harness, poop bags, a bottle of birch-scented Q-tips, commercial dog treats, and a peanut butter sandwich for myself. 

"I feel like I'm packing a diaper bag," I said to my husband.

"You are," he replied, "but for a dog."

"For my dog-baby," I laughed.

At 2:30, Pongo and I got in the car and set out.  That allowed us 30 minutes of travel time and 30 minutes to stop somewhere along the way and practice.  As I drove, I looked at Pongo in the rear-view mirror.  He sat happily on the backseat looking out the window.  I breathed deeply, suddenly relaxing.  He looked so calm and at peace that I couldn't help but feel the same.  It didn't matter what happened at the ORT.   It would be fun. And that was the point.  Pongo and Eva time.

I stopped in Edgewood at a city trailhead that had a parking lot, sidewalk and restroom.  I couldn't have asked for better weather.  It had cooled off to the 70s and was overcast.  I put out six boxes along the paved trail, one of which had birch.  Pongo immediately went to work.  He alerted flawlessly to the first three hides.  Then he began to show interest in his surroundings and began to get distracted.  I gave him a break to pee, and then gave him a few more practice hides. We didn't practice anise.  I didn't want to overwork him. 

Back in the car, I followed the directions, but couldn't find 26th Street East. To my surprise, it was farther away than I expected and we had dipped down from the plateau down into the valley not far from Puyallup.  I didn't see a sign for 26th and the numbers were getting higher.  At 3:25, I was at 38th Street and starting to feel panicky.  I turned around and started driving back the way I had come.  Then, seeing 24th Street, I pulled over again.  I tried to call the ORT organizer's cell phone, but she didn't answer.  I turned around again and pulled over at the next building where I saw someone in a car and asked for directions.  Thankfully, the man knew where Paws-Abilities was.  He told me that 26th was a new road - the one without a street sign! 

Pongo and I pulled into the parking lot five minutes late.  I parked and got out to go sign in.  To my relief, people were milling around, but the briefing had not started yet.  I wrote my name down, signed a video-release form, and gave the woman at the desk my National Association of Canine Scent Work (NACSW) booklet.  It had Pongo's picture in it, my contact information, and his  NACSW K9 number.  The briefing didn't actually start until about ten minutes later.  They walked us through the building where the boxes were set up and told us what to expect. Then we were lead back out to the parking lot and minutes later they started the ORT.

Outside, they had a list of the order of participants (about 25), their dogs and their breeds, on a piece of paper taped to the wall.  We were seventh on the list for birch.  I went to the car and let him out to walk him around and let him sniff and pee.  They had four or five practice boxes off to one side near the sign-in desk.  A few owners were on-line waiting to practice and we joined them.  Pongo was so happy to see all the people and dogs that his tail wagged gently the whole time we were there!  When it was our turn, he alerted immediately on the correct box and I treated him.

When it was finally our turn, we followed a volunteer into the building and waited outside the door to the testing room. He went in to announce us and then opened the door and let us in.  There were about five or six people in the room. The judge, the videographer, the organizer, and several volunteers.  Surprisingly, my nervousness had left me.    I walked Pongo to the orange cones that marked the starting place. 

"Pongo, you ready to work?"  I said to him.  He nodded his head and sneezed.  This mannerism of his has always tickled me.  Pongo is the only dog I've known that uses sneezes to communicate when he is excited.  He always does it in response to a question I'm asking.  It's as if he's saying "yes." 

I let out slack on his leash, "Pongo, search!"  He shot forward and immediately got to work, following the line of boxes.  He didn't care about anyone or anything else in the room!  He quickly settled in on a box, sniffing loudly, and pawed it.  I looked up at the judge on the sideline, "Alert!" I said. 

"Yes," she confirmed.  It had taken Pongo 26 seconds!  The time limit is three minutes.  I gave him several pieces of hot dogs and we exited the building.  I was beaming.  How amazing!  We had been working for the last four months for this.  He had passed! I could relax. I didn't care what happened the rest of the evening!  We only needed to pass birch to be able to move on to NW1 trials, as anise isn't used until the second level. 

I took Pongo back to the car and gave him some water.  It was a long wait before it would be our turn again.  I took Pongo for a walk around the industrial park where Paws-Abilities was housed, then put him back in the car and went to explore the Paws-Abilities store on the other side of the building.  I spent some time talking to other owners, and said hello to some very friendly, sweet dogs.   Many of the people there seemed to be experienced in the dog competition circuit.  Many of them drove SUVs and housed their dogs in crates.  They opened the side and back doors to circulate air and draped their vehicles in reflective blankets to reflect the sun.  One woman pulled out a grooming table and gave her dog a haircut in the parking lot.   Most of the dogs were purebred and Pongo was one of the only mixed-breed dogs.

Around 5:30, they briefed us about anise.  They had moved the boxes over so that they were not in the same floor area.  Pongo and I were farther down on the anise list, so I took him for another walk to get him out of the car. When we came back, there were only two others left in front of us.  I quickly took him to the practice area, and to my dismay, he didn't alert on any of the boxes.  I turned him around and tried again. He sniffed heavily on the box next to the one with anise in it (which might have meant the odor was blowing and pooling on that box) but moved on and did not alert on the marked one.  I took him to it and rewarded him there to remind him that was the scent we were going for. 

I thought, "oh well, we didn't practice anise as much as we practiced birch.  If he doesn't get it that's okay."

Inside, I gave him the "search" command and again, he got right to work!  It's almost as if he knew what he was there to do and that it was important. He didn't care about anything else in the room.  Again, he alerted quickly on a box, but I wasn't sure.  He moved on and so did I.  I turned him around and made him go over the boxes in the second row again, then a third time.  This time, he alerted on the same box he had before, but really stuck it.  "Alert," I said.  The whole room erupted with chatter.  "Yes," the judge confirmed.  One minute and four seconds.

"I'm sorry, I didn't believe him!"  I remarked, bending over to give Pongo pieces of hot dog.  Everyone was talking and laughing.  I went to the judge's table to retrieve my NACSW book.

As I exited with the volunteer escort, he said, "we were all holding our breath!"

Pongo knew exactly what he was doing and I doubted him!  But he had done his job and passed both birch and anise!  I beamed with pride.  Amazing.  Simply amazing. 

"We did it!"  I pumped my fist in the air in the parking lot and trotted Pongo to the car.

On the way home, we stopped in Sumner at Mud Bay, a pet supply specialty shop.  Pongo loves to go through the store and sniff all the wonderful smells. We like to go to the bins where there are baked treats, various kinds of rawhide, bones, and dried animal parts that are heaven to a dog.  I wanted to buy Pongo a big pig's ear - one of his favorite treats.  But they had only a few left and those were small and funny-shaped.  Pongo deserved something big for his stellar performance.  I saw a container of cow tracheas which I had never noticed before.  "Dogs love them," the salesperson told me. 

"Pongo, what do you think?"  I said, holding it out in front of his nose.  "Do you want to get this one?" Though it was wrapped in plastic, he sniffed loudly along its length.  A resounding "yes!"

 

Here Pongo settles in to enjoy his reward - a dried cow trachea.

 

What a good boy!

 

It's a new beginning for us - nose work trials here we come!

End of Summer

Labor Day is coming to a close . . . night has fallen and the temperature has dropped.  The forecast is for rain the rest of the week.  In the Pacific Northwest, that is a sure sign of fall.  So is the start of school. 

Tomorrow I start work full-time again with all day meetings and then the first day of school is on Wednesday.  As a school-based speech language pathologist, I get the summer off.  It is time I cherish with Pongo, devoting as much time as possible to the outdoors.  This has been a very busy one, full of nose work training, private nose work lessons, lots of hiking, travel to Eastern Washington, trips to the dog park and daily walks.  We couldn't have asked for more beautiful weather this summer.  We had lots of blue skies and 80 degree weather, something that can't be taken for granted in the Northwest. 

Somehow, I am not as excited as I have been in past years about going back to school.  I am not looking forward to leaving Pongo at home tomorrow.  All summer, he has met me in the morning with that quizzical look of "what are we doing today?"  And waited in anticipation of a walk or hike.  Pongo is always eager, at my side. 

During the school year, hikes become fewer and are relegated to the weekends.  Weather sometimes makes our walks shorter, especially when I come home late, my energy is sapped, and family needs my attention.  But my committment to Pongo is always in the forefront of my mind, pushing me out the door for a walk even if it is late, or to do at least a few minutes of training or "work." 

This evening, we went to the nearest elementary school and did twenty minutes of nose work training in the parking lot.  Pongo never ceases to amaze me with his innate scent abilities and his intelligence - he has always been so easy to train, eager to please.   Dogs are incredible.  I feel so blessed to share my life with these incredible creatures, and am humbled by the responsiblity of being steward to these amazing souls. 

As I get ready to call it a night, Pongo is stretched out behind my chair in my home office, dozing on and off. I am dragging my feet about going to bed, postponing the inevitable: tomorrow's dawn.




Sigh . . .there goes another summer, Pongo!