Paw Prints on the Wall

Chapter 1: Mr. MoJo

I live with three, large, male dogs. Not a scenario I’d recommend to the faint of heart or those with an aversion to dog hair. My Family Fun Pack consists of two mongrels of indistinct heritage and the third, a German Shepherd with unquestionable, albeit unremarkable ancestry. All are rescues. Their given names are Mr. MoJo, Jude and Bob (Barker) any one of which will also answer to No, Stop It and Get Out Of The Way.
Mr. MoJo is a Border Collie mix. My best guess is that his family tree includes a Great Pyrenees, which makes him look pretty much like a Border Collie on steroids. He has an enormous plume of a tail which, I believe, was full-size from birth. A tail so large, I considered naming him Flag. He eventually grew into the appendage, which now serves as a fine, voice-activated fan for me during hot summer days and my own personal summers, also known as hot flashes. The fantail has several speeds; the faster I talk, the faster it fans.
Border Collies are highly intelligent. MoJo is no exception to that rule; in fact, he does my taxes every year. So far, the paw print signature on Form 1040 has not been a red flag to the Internal Revenue Service.
Mr. MoJo is the most nomadic of the Family Fun Pack. He would, at the drop of a leash, embark on solo, unauthorized trips through the neighborhood. Mr. MoJo is also the most inventive of my three amigos. Like a child who plays with the box instead of the toy, MoJo prefers to devise his own form of amusement. He much prefers the trash can lid to any store-bought plaything and occupies his time by pretending to be a lumberjack, stripping all unwary shrubbery of its leaves and branches.
In his youth, Mr. MoJo aspired to be an interior designer. Left unsupervised, he would liberate furniture from its upholstery and alter any available window treatments.
Living with a Border Collie is an experience mixed with equal parts of joy, frustration, and amazement. Here in Dog City, where I hold the office of mayor, we concentrate on the joy and amazement.

admin The Dog/Human Relationship

I’m one of those women that forgot to have children.
My friends that did remember to have children talk about how their offspring have turned them into people that closely resemble their own parents. They are aghast when they catch themselves repeating familiar parental adages that echo back to their youth. The very phrases and actions they swore they’d never, ever espouse to their own brood.
My friends point out the similarities of raising children with my experience of raising four-legged “kids” of the canine persuasion. Those similarities include my propensity for barking orders and dispensing insane logic. Like a human parent, I am highly skilled at identifying culpability and I may possibly become the expedia.com for guilt trips. Even knowing full well that heaping on guilt, lecturing and verbal analysis do not work with dogs (and probably most children) I’m compelled to persist.
My dogs are big. My dogs are hairy. My dogs are male. My dogs sometimes make me crazy. In the midst of chaos and times when I lack the capacity for rational thought, there are certain phrases that have become the tag lines of my life.
“This is why we can’t have nice things!” is the axiom I most often express during bouts of indoor canine horseplay. It is usually followed by “You’re going to fool around and fool around ‘til somebody gets hurt!” There are the ever-popular tirades of “I don’t care who started it!” and “It’s all fun and games until somebody pokes an eye out!”
When a session of Living Room Agility breaks out, I threaten, “Don’t make me come in there!” And for vehicular roughhousing the word is, “Don’t make me stop this car!”
I seem to be afflicted by canine chaos induced memory loss. In attempt to single out the troublemaker, I blurt out something to the effect of, “Mo-Ju-Bob” or running through the list of their names before arriving at the right one. By then, the moment has passed.
I believe that my dogs would tell me that boys just want to have fun, but all too often, I’d respond with, “Don’t give me that look!” or some paraphrase of the Bill Cosby line about how I brought them into this house, and I can take them out.
I’m accomplished at stating the obvious, with lines like “You guys live like animals” and “Were you born in a barn?” Since my dogs are each of undisclosed backgrounds, the latter question might truthfully be answered with a yes.
My Mr. MoJo is a talker. He could appear on Letterman’s Stupid Pet Tricks to perform his best stunt, responding to the question, “Where do you live?” He answers, “Aaa-roar-ruh” (We live in the city of Aurora). But MoJo often takes the talking thing a bit too far. Fearful that he’s one meal away from starvation, he yells at me when his dinner is 30 seconds late. I scold, “Don’t use that tone with your mother!”
Then there’s Bob. He’s a little more laid back about his food, often leaving a portion of his meal uneaten. Now, in a household with two other contenders for food, you’d think he’d be more concerned about cleaning his plate. Nevertheless, I have to tell him, “Eat your food. Don’t you know that there are starving dogs in third world countries?”
I am resigned to the fact that I no longer have any furniture to myself and that perpetual “snoot marks” exist on my car windows. But, every night I say goodnight and thank my dogs for being who they are, in all their lovable brilliance.

admin The Dog/Human Relationship

Many dog owners ask why the occasional house-training breech of etiquette continues to occur. Many lament, “He did it because he’s mad at me!” Let’s get it straight; there is no such thing as revenge pooping or peeing. In fact, dogs are proud of their elimination achievements. They don’t think it’s gross and disgusting, so why would they use it in vengeance? I suspect dogs consider pooping to be an art form.
Imagine the anthropomorphic picture we are creating around household accidents. You are absent long hours, so you envision Scruffy thinking, “Gee, they left me home alone again. This really makes me mad! What can I do to inform those ungrateful humans of my disenchantment? I’ve got it! In an effort to disgust them, I’ll deposit some malodorous poop dead center on the new, luxurious area rug. I’m sure they won’t appreciate that little surprise package. They must learn that leaving me alone has a heavy penalty!” With the possible exception of one Border Collie I know, it’s not likely that dogs have the capacity for such rational thought.
“Rubbing a dog’s nose in it” is another punishment myth I’d like to eliminate (pun intended) straight away. You’ve just been informed that dogs are proud of their biological accomplishments, so don’t you think they might actually enjoy having their noses rubbed in it? Some dogs even eat poop. I would suggest that the act of rubbing a dog’s nose in it, perhaps, facilitates their pleasure.
Anthropomorphism is amusing and even useful at times in exposing the absurdities of our thinking. For instance, do you suppose that our dogs question why we don’t rub the baby’s nose in his soiled diaper?
Living with three male dogs is not a lifestyle I’d recommend to anyone wishing to retain any shred of sanity. Case in point: the confusion between housetraining and marking of territory. In my household there’s an abundance of representative chest beating that occurs. To date, the biggest mystery is why Mr. MoJo has a penchant for marking major appliances. The recurring ritual watering of the refrigerator, dishwasher and/or washing machine defies theoretical or scientific explanation.
With the possible exception of marking territory, or what I refer to as the canine version of graffiti, housetraining is uncomplicated. Let’s cut the crap (another pun intended), dispose of the myths and get down to the business of reliably housetraining our dogs.

admin Dog Behavior Problems

I have endlessly entertaining friends that forward witty, electronic flotsam to my inbox on a daily basis. Thanks to one of those friends I took delivery of an amusing e-mail today. It was a spurious ad for an ingenious, multi-tasking cell phone. In addition to its original function of making calls, this wondrous phone could wash your dishes, heat a room, inflate bicycle tires and even toast a sandwich. It got me thinking that if cell phones with artificial intelligence could be so productive, why not put dogs, possessing real brains, to work?
There an infinite number of services that could be outsourced to dogs, when you think about it. I’m not saying we should take away anyone’s livelihood; just reorganize the hierarchy a bit. After all, dogs will need supervisors to report to.
It should escape no one’s attention that dogs are particularly well suited to the business of garbage. One of my clients related the story of her two clever dogs Rosie and Henry. The enterprising pair would escape the confines of the yard each day to wander the neighborhood collecting bags of trash. This was ingenious, as they did not simply forage the alleys, gorging themselves at the scene, but actually toted the bags home to deposit them into their rubbish bank. I imagine they stored their treasures so they could dine on tasty feasts of trash at their leisure, but this has potential as a community service.
Dogs are also well suited to the demolition industry. My dog Mr. MoJo just happens to be a black belt escape artist. He has learned to employ his jaws as wire cutters to peel open a perfect, MoJo sized hole in the fence to make his exit. His yard is partially surrounded by a wire fence, with the remaining constructed of cedar. Wood fencing necessitates teeth that also serve as a wood chipper. I suspect a DNA test would reveal that MoJo is actually descended from beavers.
I’m contemplating hiring MoJo out to a demolition crew. His resume` will boast a degree in fence destruction, graduating magna cum laude. I see a future for him in neighborhood redevelopment.
I think that MoJo is also well suited for public office. Not because of his affinity for trash (although that might be a practical skill in the political arena) but because he’s charming, innovative and likes to be in control. He wants to start out as alderman, then work his way up to mayor. I suspect his aspirations, driven by his alpha tendencies, might be a bit out of control because he is highly energized by the sound of Hail To The Chief.
In my imagination, dogs are the inspiration for many clever inventions. Perhaps, with a bit of initiative, dogs could even replace the occasional, everyday appliance or electronic device. Following is a list of potential items dogs could, and maybe should replace:
Dogs should replace alarm clocks. I have an idea for the perfect dog owner’s alarm clock. Set it for the desired time, as you would any alarm clock, but here’s the difference. When activated, this clock resonates with the sound of a retching dog. I can tell you that nothing gets me out of bed faster than that dreaded sound. I do an admirable sprint from the bed, across the house to the paper towel holder in less than 2.4 seconds.
Dogs should replace dishwashers. Save money and time with the all-natural Doggie Dishwasher. After every meal, simply place your dirty dishes on the floor where they will be cleaned in less than 12 seconds (individual results may vary). But wait, order now and you’ll receive our handy booklet entitled, No More Uninvited Dinner Guests! It describes how the Doggie Dishwasher is a marvelous deterrent to unwanted dinner guests. One time witnessing dishes being put in the cupboard directly after the canine cleaning and those annoying, guests will not come knocking at mealtime again.
Dogs should replace paper shredders. An entrepreneurial endeavor for dogs is a mobile document destruction service. Anyone who’s ever lived with a puppy has no use for a paper shredder in his or her office. An additional benefit of the furry paper shredder is there are no worries about identity theft in the presence of those razor sharp puppy teeth.  Toss any waste paper on the floor and, viola… paper reduced to molecules. Simply pack up your pups in a mini-van, drive to offices in need of data obliteration and you’re in business.
Dogs should replace electric fans. MoJo is a dog of many natural talents. He is equipped with a beautiful, plume of a tail that also functions as a cooling system for me. This comes in particularly handy on hot, summer days and during interminable hot flashes. He’s one of those dogs that, when feeling exceptionally happy, wags his tail in a rotating motion. The best part of the MoJo rotary tail fan is that it is voice-activated with multiple speeds. To operate, I simply change the pitch of my voice: the higher the pitch, the faster the rotation.
Dogs should replace media newscasts. I have a dog whose name is Bob Barker. He was not named for his love of watching The Price Is Right, but because, well, he barks a lot. Bob is the neighborhood reporter. The Barker Reports include notice of passers by, mail delivery, the squirrel census and the voices in his head. If he would give the weather and the stock reports, I could cancel my cable TV subscription, Internet connection and daily newspaper.
Aside from the obvious career choices as bed warmers, wireless alarm systems and squirrel control, I think dogs should be allowed to explore more creative entrepreneurial opportunities. Dogs are a far better choice for these positions than the multi-tasking cell phone. After all, they are great companions, they’ll work for Milk Bones and there are no contracts to sign.
Author’s Note: Dogs should NOT replace writers. My dogs are the real authors of these articles. They let me have the by-lines only because I’m the better typist.

admin The Dog/Human Relationship

Among dogs, jumping up and sniffing butts are social greetings. In light of that fact, I’m forever grateful that human social etiquette entails a simple handshake. I did meet one person to whom this rule did not seem to apply. And, it all happened on live TV!
I was doing a promotional television interview on a local morning news show. The reporter was an unreserved, exceedingly animated fellow, the human equivalent of a 5-month-old Labrador puppy on a caffeine overdose. We were doing several live feeds over a 3-hour period. Before each feed, we’d talk briefly about the question that would be asked and I’d plan my expert answer. I was quite proud, maybe even a bit cocky, feeling that I’d presented myself like a leading authority on dog behavior. I hadn’t done much live TV and had nightmares the previous night about making some terrible gaffe, looking like a colossal idiot.
The reporter, whose name was Dan, inquired about training dogs not to jump up on people. Then the cameraman counted down in preparation to go live for our last feed. 5-4-3-2-1, and he points as he rolls the camera. Dan began his talk with a hypothetical situation about dogs that jump up. He asserted how annoying and embarrassing an out-of-control dog can be.
He said, “It would be like if I saw you on the street and…” Then, as I looked into his eyes, just like looking into a young pup’s eyes, I could see what was about to happen. In horror, I thought, “Oh no, he’s not really going to…” Then on live TV, in front of God and my mother, this man lunged toward me and proceeded to drape himself over me!
When the camera cut, I collected myself and said to him, “You don’t know how close you came to getting my knee in your chest (or a lower area of the anatomy)! I’d never do that to a dog, but I’m not that forgiving with humans!”
Given the choice, I’d rather be jumped on by a sixty-four puppies with muddy paws than one overzealous TV reporter. And thanks to Dan, for not making me look like a colossal idiot!

admin Dog Behavior Problems

A Buddhist proverb says that when the student is ready, the teacher appears. My dogs are the teachers that came to me and I am a humble student of Bob the dog. He has taught me volumes about barking. Bob, (his full name is Bob Barker) is the reporter of the family. The Barker Reports include notice of passers by, trash collection, neighbors arriving home, lurking wildlife and the voices in his head. If he would give the weather, I could cancel my cable TV subscription.
Bells of any variety are Bob’s cue to sound off. Phones in particular are his call to action. Like children, my dogs feel the need to act out and vocalize during telephone conversations. It’s a dog trainer’s worst nightmare to have barking dogs in the background throughout a phone consultation with a client. I’m sure I’d experience many a vote of no-confidence and a quick hang-up if I turned from the phone to scream, “Shut up! I’m tryin’ to talk here!” I swear those dogs could be lying on their sides on the kitchen floor for 6 hours straight with nary a peep but, just let the phone ring…
Perhaps my dogs’ barking is a conspiracy. I’ll bet they check the caller ID in the other room before deciding whether to bark. I can hear MoJo saying, “No, Bob. It’s not a client. Don’t bother getting up.”
It seems that the act of my sitting down at the computer is also a nod to Bob for another report. “Barking Dog Productions”, a division of my business offering graphic design for dog trainers is named for my dogs. Whether I’m writing or designing at the computer, my dogs take their cue to bark. You guessed it. They’re barking right now!
Then there’s my German Shepherd Dog, Jude. He acquired his name because he happens to be one of those overly dramatic shepherds that whine a lot. Jude…we always have to take his sad song and make it better.
Jude gives Bob Barker a run for his barking money when in the back yard. Jude has learned the consequence of his excess barking is a time-out. When he’s in the yard barking his fool head off, I call him into the house. After enough times out, all I have to do is show up at the back door… he’s already on his way in with his head hung low. I don’t have to call him anymore. It’s as if he’s saying, “What was I thinking? I need a time out”. His self-imposed times-out save me a lot of breath and leave me in awe at the intelligence of a dog whose favorite pastime next to barking is watching the toilet flush!

admin Dog Behavior Problems

Let’s face it; having three large male dogs is comparable to living in a college frat house.

I have a friend who has a sign hanging in her home that asks, “Why does dog hair stick to everything except the dog?” I have come to realize that the once manageable task of housework has morphed into a colossal exercise in futility. Some say that cleanliness is next to Godliness; but with three dogs it’s next to impossible! I could vacuum every four hours and still see hair balls the size of house cats tumbling across the hardwood floor on their way to a permanent home under some immovable piece of furniture.

I’m in constant competition with the legions of dog hair in my home. I vacuum, I shake out rugs, I’ve even resorted to firing up the leaf blower, but there is no winning over this ubiquitous adversary. And ignoring it is no answer. Dog hair has an incredibly long shelf life!

In my world, vacuum cleaners are almost as disposable as Dixie cups. I have yet to find an affordable vacuum with the horsepower to contend with the mountains of dog hair that reside in my area rugs alone. I have vivid memories of the passing of one particular cleaning appliance, a sturdy, bagless vacuum of the upright persuasion. After sucking up bushels of dog hair over a two-year period she began to protest, emitting puffs of smoke from her motor. I coaxed her along for months. I finally decided she should hang up her hepafilter when preparing to vacuum required first disarming the smoke alarms.

I am quick to blame my lack of household hygiene on my dogs. After all, I’ve always had at least one “German Shedder” sharing my home. The story of my dog Sadie’s passing puts household cleanliness into proper perspective:

It was the sorrowful day that Sadie, my forever dog, told me she was ready to go on to Heaven’s Big Back Yard. I called in a couple of close friends for comfort and a kindly, compassionate veterinarian to help Sadie on her final journey. As the vet was preparing the injection, she advised that I might want to place a towel under Sadie to protect the rug in case there was anything in her system she wouldn’t be taking with her. I replied, “No, that’s OK. This rug has been chewed, pooped, peed and puked on.” To that, my friend Marcia quietly added, “And that was before she had dogs!”

Hair isn’t the only cleaning challenge presented by dogs. Two of my three dogs have long hair and extra fluffy bedroom slipper feet. This means that every time they come in from the back yard, they are proudly wearing their respective leaf collections. Maybe I need to rethink that leaf blower idea.

Preserving the landscape is another challenge of living with the pack. Visible areas of my property are kept looking respectable, but the section relegated to the dogs looks like a government missile testing site. Explosives, it turns out, are not the source of the numerous gigantic holes punctuating my yard. My dogs love to dig. I think at least one of them is part backhoe with latent agricultural tendencies. My neighbors and I are thankful for privacy fences.

I thought once, it would be a good idea to have the dogs help me with a tree-planting project. All three were supervising me while I began to dig with my trusty shovel. The looks they gave me seemed to say, “No, Mom. You’re doing it wrong!” So, I tossed aside my shovel and said, “OK, guys. Go for it!” Jumping wholeheartedly into the task, they began to paw furiously, dirt flying high. But, not more than a minute into the excavation, the excitement turned to rabid competition and an all out brawl ensued. Who ever said that gardening is therapeutic? My back yard still resembles a war zone, but for now, I’m OK with that.

My battleground of a back yard is also where you’ll find the eternal predicament of the poop land mines. Three large dogs make for an abundance of well, crap. When it comes to dog waste management I allow myself the luxury of hiring someone else for the proverbial poop patrol. Yes, this wonderful service is actually available. I nod to the entrepreneurial genius that made it possible for me never to deal with the removal of my dogs’ solid waste matter. Now we humans are disgusted by excrement, but dogs are actually proud of their biological accomplishments. Thus, when the scoop technician arrives at my gate every Wednesday morning, my dogs go into a protective, frenetic display. I’m pretty sure they are saying, “He’s moving my poop! He’s moving my poop!” “I worked really hard on that one.”

So it goes, the ongoing battle, my dream for a clean environment and my dogs’ desire to smash those dreams. I’m sure that is their collective aspiration.

So I lay down my vacuum and give in to grime because I live in a cozy 1,000 sq. ft. home with about 650 sq. ft. of dog! I could have a spotless home, but that would also mean being “Spot-less”. That, my friend, is not an option!

admin The Dog/Human Relationship