Whippet Snippets

Spring(er) has Sprung

Boy came back from an overnight trip to Vancouver, and was greeted by chirping birds and the gentle swaying of trees silhouetted by the rising sun. Yes, the sunshine bathed Hamilton in a sweet springtime warmth today, and both Boy and Girl heralded the season's late arrival by wearing their shorts. Boy added flip flops for good measure. Anyone who knows Boy knows that he will shave his head in due course. And perhaps for good reason. The temperature is expected to hit 22 degrees by Monday.

Today was also the day they prepared for Ribsy's separation anxiety behavior modification program. Armed with a checklist of needed supplies, they methodically tackled each item in scavenger hunt-like fashion.

Among their arsenal were a new bicycle and a Springer bicycle jogger tool. Designed with safety in mind, the Springer attaches to the bicycle while reducing and absorbing the shock of Ribsy's tugs and pulls. Direct attachment also means that Boy can ride with both hands. Plus, Ribsy won't be able to dash in front of the bicycle. The Springer even has a safety release that allows Ribsy to break away if he gets caught on the wrong side of a pole or tree.

Let the behavior modification program begin!

The pet doctor is in

Ribsy had his in-home session with the animal behaviorist this evening, and during so he managed to achieve some progress - he stayed in the loft, by himself, for a full five minutes. Baby whippet steps, Girl supposes, but it's definitely a cause for a small celebration. Up until then, he couldn't tolerate 10 seconds alone.

The key strategy? A deliciously irresistable Kong toy stuffed with cream cheese and pepperoni. Wedged deep into the Kong's recesses, the sweet reward was enough of a lure to lull Ribsy into full distraction mode. He didn't even move when Girl and the behaviorist returned to the loft five minutes later. In fact, they continued their discussion at the dinner table and left him in the bedroom with the Kong, and more than 20 minutes later, he was still working on extracting the goods. Sounds like the Kong will be a good departure cue. Ribsy's cue in Victoria was a handful of dog biscuits, but Girl supposes his tastes have refined since then, all the way up to Boy (his pepperoni) and Girl's (her cream cheese) food. 

But now that Girl has discovered Ribsy's gourmet achilles heel, she can begin integrating other strategies that, when executed together, will hopefully eliminate his separation anxiety. It's worth the effort!

Calling the Pet Shrink

So a short walk around the block for Boy and Girl this morning left Ribsy a howling, panting mess. Time to call the doctor.

Enter the animal behaviorist. The house call is scheduled for Wednesday evening. He'll review Ribsy's case and recommend a behavior modification program, plus offer ongoing follow up for two months.

Boy and Girl never thought they'd be one of those people that sent their dog to the shrink, but this strategy seems to make sense. Separation anxiety isn't one of those situations where the dog will 'just get used to it.' If anything, it will get worse, until Boy and Girl get to to the root of the issue, and get on track with modifying their behavior so that Ribsy can begin modifying his for the better.

Innocence Lost

It finally happened. After countless chases and torturous tree climbing attempts, Ribsy has nabbed his first squirrel. This morning began with a walk at a grassy park down the street in their new neighborhood, and there it was. A hapless black squirrel caught in a corner with nowhere to escape.

Girl had always wondered what Ribsy would actually do with a squirrel, as silly as that may sound. Her questions were answered: he shook the living daylights out of it, panted, and held it in his mouth, unwilling to let it go. Now this they never teach you in obedience school: how do you get your squirrel hating dog to let go of its prized kill?

After five minutes of embarrassed, very awkward, "Rib-SY, drop...it....now!" commanded authoritatively but under the breath so as not to attract more attention than your squirrel-killing and squirrel-carcass-holding dog already has, he finally dropped it.

Strutting out of the park with his head held high, Girl worries if this will change Ribsy somehow. Any squirrel-killing whippet owners out there with an answer?

Write away

Ribsy had a great time at the dog park, fetching the ball and running with two Airedale terriers.

While he's content on the couch, dreaming about squirrels no doubt, Girl has had a moment to sneak onto the Macbook in an attempt to get back into the writing mode. You see, she's always had a passion to be a writer. It seemed to be the only area in school where she shone.

She just didn't know back then that - fast forward to today, right now - she would have to resort to exploiting her dog's weblog in the hopes of obtaining an audience. Any audience. Even an unintentional one, one that came looking to read about whippets and instead ended up reading about the insecurities of a failed writer who never quite lived up to her promise, much less fulfill any artistic destiny.

People in Girl's life tell her to consider Hamilton as a fresh start. No one knows who you are so you're free to express yourself without the stench of failures or past humiliation. Seeing Ribsy run today made her think about things. If Ribsy can pick up where he left off, chasing the ball in a strange new field in a strange new town, but chasing the ball dammit - then why couldn't she?

Ribsy knows it's different here. For one thing, there's all the snow. And then there's the poo everywhere you go (there are no poop bag dispensers to be found anywhere in the Hammer, which is - pun intended - really crappy). And the constant smell of smoke wafting into their apartment. Oh yeah, and no whippets. Yet, through all this, he is  making a go at it. He's still chasing the ball because he knows he can. It's a constant and no matter what, as long as Girl's chuckin' it, Ribsy can chase it. Dependable.

Find it. Chase it. Bring it to where you want it to be.

His tail isn't wagging furiously with delight when he encounters other dogs. But there is respect. Yesterday, at the HAAA Grounds (yes, that's what this park is called), he met a black dog playing with a deflated soccer ball. A slight nodding of the head and detailed sniffing of the rears. Then, a little circle dance, the tails rising slightly higher in the air. This went on a for a minute or so, and then they parted.

Off the black dog went to play with his ball, and Ribsy walked back to me. "I've done my business now. Meeting dogs is how I get to know this town. I may not run around with everyone, but the more I meet, the more likely I'll find the ones I really do want to run with."

Make a go of it.

And Ribsy quickly realized his new home is different. There are two and a half flights of stairs to deal with, for instance. Everytime he wants to go out, whether to explore or to relieve himself, he has to battle those stairs every single time. Yesterday he waited till the door was open before he gingerly went, one paw at a time, down the steep top flight of stairs.

This morning he tried a different technique. He retreated back into the apartment, spun around to get a running start, and sped down the stairs.

Tomorrow he will mostly like use yet another strategy. It's practically impossible to feel at home right away. Dogs - and people - carry forth their memories and programmed routines. The comfort zone has shifted, and you have to adjust. Once he finds his groove, Ribsy will conquer those stairs, carrying his long-necked self high when doing so.

Take your time because it's your time.

It's our time, Ribsy. Let's live it together. You run. I'll write. It could be the start of something wonderful here.

Will the real Ribsy please come?

So Ribsy's a rather quiet dog. He doesn't bark at other dogs who happen to walk by while he's sitting at home looking out the window, even if they choose to mark his tree. He doesn't bark when he sees another leashed pooch across the street, when he's on a neighbourly stroll himself.

He doesn't bark unless he's truly in his element, which happens to be when he's running fast and free in a field or park, chasing a ball or chasing a dog that is chasing a ball or lunging at Blitzen's scrawny puppy neck.

The American Whippet Club agrees:
Whippets are  generally quiet and gentle dogs in the house, content to spend much of the day sleeping on the couch. They are not generally aggressive with other animals, and although especially attached to their owners, they are friendly to visitors. They are not prone to snapping, so they are good with young children. They may or may not bark when strangers arrive, and are not suited to be guard dogs due to their trusting and unsuspicious nature. Outside, however, particularly when they are racing or lure coursing, they demonstrate their superb athletic skills and will pursue their "quarry" (even when it is an artificial lure) with the heart of a lion. To see these dogs in full stride is breathtaking!

Unfortunately, those who don't know him well, only know that one side. Unless you really get to spend some quality time with a dog, you really don't know the dog at all. So before you label a dog as aggressive, territorial, or even uninteresting, try to get to know its true, full personality. It's there. You just have to make the effort and pay some attention.

Pet Resolutions

From The Joy of Tech is this absolutely untrue look into a dog's mind come New Year's resolution time. Ribsy insists that he has no issues with any of the matters this beagle x is entering into his own entry. In fact, Ribsy would like to share with you his resolutions right here.

Ribsy's Resolutions
- Stop peeing on own leg
- Resist temptation to chew furniture
- Ask permission before sniffing strangers' crotches
- Learn to appreciate the beauty of cold pelting rain
- Stay intact

Very do-able, thought Ribsy.

Cat Hater

Ribsy's not a fan of cats.

Every run that Girl takes him on, usually involves as least one leash-gagging furious sprint towards a tabby target. The three close encounters that he has had in his brief life end up with the cat teaching him a quick lesson in respect, with the aid of a swiping claw or teeth-baring hissing.

So why does he keep letting cats get under his thin skin? Is it a deep, genetically-manifested hatred that he cannot get rid of, no matter how long he tries? Can tolerance to cats be taught to a dog like him? Even so, under the right circumstances, when provoked beyond all limits of self-control, could a dog instantly turn around and shed all the benevolence it had previously displayed? There are plenty of households with both a dog and a cat, but Girl can't even imagine the chaos that would ensue if they were to bring home a kitty.

Faster Ribsy, Kill Kill Kill!

So Ribsy's got this thing for Coke. As in Coke bottles. There's nothing more enthralling than an old plastic pop bottle tossed into the backyard. Today even though it was windy as heck, Ribsy was having the time of his life with his new plastic toy. Crunching, kicking, gouging. Goes to show you don't always have to buy the $20 squeak toy. In fact, the $9 Nyla bone that Girl bought for Ribsy remains unmarked.

And leaving your sentimental Beaver beanie baby toy (a present from Girl to Boy) out in the open isn't the way to go either. Ribsy ate the nose and and eye of poor Beeve, plus snacked on a few of his stuffed intestines. Girl would show you the sad carnage but the camera is currently with Boy. Maybe that's for the better.

The Graduate

<-- Random shot. Currently on Girl's desktop at work.


Yahoo! Ribsy's now a Wonderdog. His 10th and final class was last night at the wet, dark Saanich Fairgrounds. He had his official graduation photo (sorry no cap nor gown nor diploma) taken. Hopefully Ribsy will be able to get his paws on it soon so that he can prove to the world that he's gone through higher education. He admits, though, that he got singled out by Ben Kersen himself, in front of the whole class: "And look how far Ribsy's come along. A whippet is 10 times harder to train than any other dog, and he's just made so much progress." Girl did not know that fact about whippets! Oops!

The one lasting battle that Team Humans haven't won yet is the Down command. Ribsy won't do it. And he'll squirm, wriggle, jump, whine, scratch and contort to whatever position it takes to not go down! Boy, Girl, and two Wonderdog trainers have so far been unsuccessful. The Wonderdog trainers have recommended that Girl and Ribsy go to school ALL OVER AGAIN. The next group session begins at the end of this month. Yeah right!!

The other option is for Girl to shell out $35 a pop for private lessons, so that Ben or one of his minions can personally yank Ribsy to submission. No thanks!

Girl's friend has a lead to a more positive trainer. That avenue is open.