I was driving home yesterday when I was reduced to tears by a voice message. Hero vom Haus Kuhn had passed away at age 11, in the company of his best friend and in the sunshine of his own back yard. He had bloated again and was in pain and this time his owner let him go. The animal communicator advised Hero was ready to leave this earth during a previous bloat and pneumonia incident, but Shari needed just a little more time. This was that time.
Hero-- pronounced Harro-- was a tall, deep chested German Shepherd. He was part of my payment for the sale of his grandsire, Lex von Larchenhain, but the dear lad just did not have schutzhund in his heart. Yes, he would grip the sleeve, but not with the fire and fight of a dog who needs the sport for his very survival. My dear friend, Shari, welcomed him into her life and became his best friend and partner to the end. Years before when she was still training with Fox Valley Police & Schutzhund Club, Harro would ride along and would always have to say hi to "his Debbie" and then he would be content to lounge. Shari and I reminisced about the time I put on a sleeve and Harro looked so shocked to think he should bite me!! What? I can't bite Debbie!
Harro adored puppies. I can still picture him with my A litter of Dutch Shepherds, laying next to the fence and touching them gently when they were still so small I worried he might be too exhuberant and hurt them. I needn't have worried. For his great size, he matched his play to their abilities and was happiest when he was being mauled by puppies.
Some dogs remain in our hearts forever,despite moving on to new homes. Shari was so gracious as to allow me to continue to be a part of Harro's life to the end. Through her, he found himself. Sleep well, sweet boy.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Turtle on a Fencepost
I had a 15-16 hour drive to PA where the AWDF Championships were held, and made good use of my time by listening to motivational tapes. By the time I arrived, I was energized and had a positive attitude. On one tape, Mary Kay Ash, the founder of Mary Kay cosmetics, spoke about the turtle on a fencepost. The story was so true and something we should all keep in mind. Back at home, I found an internet entry on a "Familiarity in Ministry" web site. I have made editorial changes to make the references reflect what we do in dog sports:
Turtle on a Fencepost
I became intrigued recently by a book written almost three decades ago by Allan C. Emery and Mary C. Crowley entitled “A Turtle on a Fencepost, Women Who Win.“ In the first chapter of this little book, Emery asks us to think about life in a deeper way by eliciting the picture of a turtle on a fencepost. I have been thinking about how well the image of a turtle on a fencepost depicts our role in dog sports and life in general.
What are a few things we know about a turtle on a fencepost?
A turtle on a fencepost didn’t get there on his own.
Turtles lack the attributes needed for climbing posts. Unlike the forlorn midnight cry of the neighborhood cat from the top of your backyard tree, having been able to “get up, but not down”, turtles lack the attributes necessary for post climbing.
Not only do they lack the attributes, turtles also lack the resolve for post climbing. On their own, they would see no benefit to climbing the post.
How like us! To make progress we must first acknowledge our inadequacy to climb that post. We must all rely on the Holy Spirit to empower us for the task, and people who serve Him by helping others. We cannot get up on that post by ourselves. In dog sports, that means helping the next turtle upward, giving them a boost by encourage, support and mentoring.
A turtle on a fencepost is outside his comfort zone.
The turtle on a fencepost would rather be on terra firma where his natural attributes give him stability. The flailing of turtle legs midair is disconcerting both to the turtle and the observer. To make progress we need to take ourselves outside that comfort zone and challenge ourselves. It may feel uncomfortable,but the view is great!
A turtle on a fencepost isn’t going anywhere unless someone moves him.
The turtle finds himself powerless to make productive progress without help. He may struggle and fall off the post, but that is the unintended consequence of his being unsettled by his place. Only when some caring person gently relocates him does the turtle find himself able to move forward without negative consequences.
The lesson of the turtle on a fencepost is quite simple, really. We can't get there on our own. We often find ourselves outside our comfort zone. We need help to make productive progress. We are all turtles on a fencepost and at the same time, have the ability to lift up another turtle. We need other people to mentor us in the sport, and in turn, have an obligation to do the same when we have that opportunity. If you can be selfless in these acts of serving the Lord by helping others, when it is your time, you will find yourself lifted back up when you fall. I was reminded of this when a gentleman at the AWDF Championships told me he had met me years before at another event, when he was new to the sport, and that myself and the two friends I was with had taken him under our collective wings and spent time talking about the sport and encouraging him. And here he was, a few years later, as a competitor in a National event, telling me how much it meant to him to have met one of the "nice people" in the sport.
We all have those opportunties to set ourselves aside and do things for which we might not see an immediate personal benefit. But do them anyway. You may fall at times and not feel like getting up again. But get up anyway. Remember the turtle on the fencepost. You have the power to make a difference.
Turtle on a Fencepost
I became intrigued recently by a book written almost three decades ago by Allan C. Emery and Mary C. Crowley entitled “A Turtle on a Fencepost, Women Who Win.“ In the first chapter of this little book, Emery asks us to think about life in a deeper way by eliciting the picture of a turtle on a fencepost. I have been thinking about how well the image of a turtle on a fencepost depicts our role in dog sports and life in general.
What are a few things we know about a turtle on a fencepost?
A turtle on a fencepost didn’t get there on his own.
Turtles lack the attributes needed for climbing posts. Unlike the forlorn midnight cry of the neighborhood cat from the top of your backyard tree, having been able to “get up, but not down”, turtles lack the attributes necessary for post climbing.
Not only do they lack the attributes, turtles also lack the resolve for post climbing. On their own, they would see no benefit to climbing the post.
How like us! To make progress we must first acknowledge our inadequacy to climb that post. We must all rely on the Holy Spirit to empower us for the task, and people who serve Him by helping others. We cannot get up on that post by ourselves. In dog sports, that means helping the next turtle upward, giving them a boost by encourage, support and mentoring.
A turtle on a fencepost is outside his comfort zone.
The turtle on a fencepost would rather be on terra firma where his natural attributes give him stability. The flailing of turtle legs midair is disconcerting both to the turtle and the observer. To make progress we need to take ourselves outside that comfort zone and challenge ourselves. It may feel uncomfortable,but the view is great!
A turtle on a fencepost isn’t going anywhere unless someone moves him.
The turtle finds himself powerless to make productive progress without help. He may struggle and fall off the post, but that is the unintended consequence of his being unsettled by his place. Only when some caring person gently relocates him does the turtle find himself able to move forward without negative consequences.
The lesson of the turtle on a fencepost is quite simple, really. We can't get there on our own. We often find ourselves outside our comfort zone. We need help to make productive progress. We are all turtles on a fencepost and at the same time, have the ability to lift up another turtle. We need other people to mentor us in the sport, and in turn, have an obligation to do the same when we have that opportunity. If you can be selfless in these acts of serving the Lord by helping others, when it is your time, you will find yourself lifted back up when you fall. I was reminded of this when a gentleman at the AWDF Championships told me he had met me years before at another event, when he was new to the sport, and that myself and the two friends I was with had taken him under our collective wings and spent time talking about the sport and encouraging him. And here he was, a few years later, as a competitor in a National event, telling me how much it meant to him to have met one of the "nice people" in the sport.
We all have those opportunties to set ourselves aside and do things for which we might not see an immediate personal benefit. But do them anyway. You may fall at times and not feel like getting up again. But get up anyway. Remember the turtle on the fencepost. You have the power to make a difference.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Perspective
“Two men look out the same prison bars; one sees mud and the other stars.”
---- Frederick Langbridge
You have more control than you know. Two people faced with the same situation can see it differently. If you see mud, then you will be unhappy and dissatisfied. If you see stars, you see the potential in each day, and a failure is merelya step closer to success.
I've just returned from another dog competition. This one was the American Working Dog Championships, where I rubbed elbows with some of the biggest names in the sport of schutzhund. I try to be a "glass half full " sort of gal. Sometimes I succeed more admirably than others, but if you at least try to find one positive thing, chances are more will come your way. This doesn't mean that you grin your way through the day, making excuses (in a postive way) for lack of preparation. It means that, even astraddle those mistakes, you find a redeemablepiece that lets you focus on moving forward.
A woman I met at the trial asked how to deal with the anxiety of competition, being new to the sport. I gave her this advice: "Surround yourself with good people." I went on to explain that it is important that you select as mentors and friends, people who are supportive but who do not make excuses for their performance nor criticize others to build themselves up. To be standing in the wings, hearing person after person torn apart will not serve you well. It puts failure in your consciousness.
In any dog trial there are folks who will never be happy, who seem to seek out something they feel has wronged them to whine about. They will not be happy that the sun was shining. The grass will be too short, too tall or too hot. They will not admit to errors in their own preparation, and instead the judge will be prejudiced, the helper too slow or too fast. Al Govednik once reminded us in a seminar that we need to be happy with OUR dog's 100%. What my dog and I are capable of, as a team, may not be the same as Ivan. And perhaps even his dog will earn 96points only giving 80% effort. But if my dog gives me his 100% then I should celebrate that and be proud.
Look for stars. Encourage others around you to look for them, as well. When you hear people complaining, instead of nodding in agreement, find one positive thing and see how quickly the mood changes. If they elect to walk away and spread their toxic waste elsewhere, you've saved yourself. See stars.
---- Frederick Langbridge
You have more control than you know. Two people faced with the same situation can see it differently. If you see mud, then you will be unhappy and dissatisfied. If you see stars, you see the potential in each day, and a failure is merelya step closer to success.
I've just returned from another dog competition. This one was the American Working Dog Championships, where I rubbed elbows with some of the biggest names in the sport of schutzhund. I try to be a "glass half full " sort of gal. Sometimes I succeed more admirably than others, but if you at least try to find one positive thing, chances are more will come your way. This doesn't mean that you grin your way through the day, making excuses (in a postive way) for lack of preparation. It means that, even astraddle those mistakes, you find a redeemablepiece that lets you focus on moving forward.
A woman I met at the trial asked how to deal with the anxiety of competition, being new to the sport. I gave her this advice: "Surround yourself with good people." I went on to explain that it is important that you select as mentors and friends, people who are supportive but who do not make excuses for their performance nor criticize others to build themselves up. To be standing in the wings, hearing person after person torn apart will not serve you well. It puts failure in your consciousness.
In any dog trial there are folks who will never be happy, who seem to seek out something they feel has wronged them to whine about. They will not be happy that the sun was shining. The grass will be too short, too tall or too hot. They will not admit to errors in their own preparation, and instead the judge will be prejudiced, the helper too slow or too fast. Al Govednik once reminded us in a seminar that we need to be happy with OUR dog's 100%. What my dog and I are capable of, as a team, may not be the same as Ivan. And perhaps even his dog will earn 96points only giving 80% effort. But if my dog gives me his 100% then I should celebrate that and be proud.
Look for stars. Encourage others around you to look for them, as well. When you hear people complaining, instead of nodding in agreement, find one positive thing and see how quickly the mood changes. If they elect to walk away and spread their toxic waste elsewhere, you've saved yourself. See stars.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Dog Parks
I am not a fan of dog parks. Ask the folks at your local Canine Emergency Centers and they will likely tell you, as did mine, that they see a large number of injuries each year as a result of dog fights at such parks. Why is it that humans insist their dogs must love and play with every other dog they see, when it is extremely unlikely they feel the same way about other humans? Where did this concept of dogs as Buddist monks come from? I find dog parks to be the salve of the yuppie conscience. By parking themselves on the bench with their Starbucks double latte while their pup gets rolled repeatedly by the bigger dogs (and gee, doesn't that just seem like fun?) they feel that they are "socializing" their dog and giving it exercise; the one-on-one time they are too busy to make out of their own schedule.
Not to mention the concentration of disease in one small area of earth. There is no check of vaccination or worming records, and your dog is walking through the remainders of whatever thousands of dogs walked that area before him, all in one little fenced in area. Many parasites live on in the soil and you have absolutely no way of knowing whether the cute puppy who was just playing there, went home and promptly died of parvo. I will never forget a person I worked with who said his son had come home to visit and brought two dogs, and that he had to take them to the dog park because they had worms... and he didn't want that in HIS yard!
Those are pet dog reasons to avoid dog parks. For those with working dogs, dogs who need a relationship with their human partner, a dog park can sound a death knell for all things good.
The first is that your dog should look to you as its protector and know that you will never intentionally place it in harm's way. You cannot possibly know all the dogs who might appear at the park, nor the responsibility of their owners. Would you lend your car to those strangers? Then why place the life of your dog lower on the rungs of importance?
Dog parks are primarily a place for humans to socialize. To your dog, you should be the most important person in his/her life~ the giver of all good things. We cannot possibly play as well as another dog, and we do not want our working dogs to decide that seeking out the companionshp of other dogs is a better choice than us. When we are with our dogs, the contact is interactive and engaging; we never stand around and ignore our dog's behavior, or pass up opportunities to reward and shape it properly.
At a dog park you surrender your opportunity to reward your dog. Toy play is likely to incite a riot. Throw a ball and you will have a race between labradors, and if your dog is not the fastest one, he will soon stop chasing the ball with the directness and gusto that you require for competition. Additionally, with other dogs hot on his heels he will be less likely to make a fast pick up and direct return. Using treats can become a fight between participants who threaten your dog over the pieces dropped.
You will be a fair and responsible owner if you commit to spend time with your dog, instead of giving that over to other dogs. The time you spend with your dog in interactive (emphasis on *active*) play that teaches simultaneously, is the best gift you can give. Your dog will look forward to spending time with you, instead of saying "just drop me at the gate."
Not to mention the concentration of disease in one small area of earth. There is no check of vaccination or worming records, and your dog is walking through the remainders of whatever thousands of dogs walked that area before him, all in one little fenced in area. Many parasites live on in the soil and you have absolutely no way of knowing whether the cute puppy who was just playing there, went home and promptly died of parvo. I will never forget a person I worked with who said his son had come home to visit and brought two dogs, and that he had to take them to the dog park because they had worms... and he didn't want that in HIS yard!
Those are pet dog reasons to avoid dog parks. For those with working dogs, dogs who need a relationship with their human partner, a dog park can sound a death knell for all things good.
The first is that your dog should look to you as its protector and know that you will never intentionally place it in harm's way. You cannot possibly know all the dogs who might appear at the park, nor the responsibility of their owners. Would you lend your car to those strangers? Then why place the life of your dog lower on the rungs of importance?
Dog parks are primarily a place for humans to socialize. To your dog, you should be the most important person in his/her life~ the giver of all good things. We cannot possibly play as well as another dog, and we do not want our working dogs to decide that seeking out the companionshp of other dogs is a better choice than us. When we are with our dogs, the contact is interactive and engaging; we never stand around and ignore our dog's behavior, or pass up opportunities to reward and shape it properly.
At a dog park you surrender your opportunity to reward your dog. Toy play is likely to incite a riot. Throw a ball and you will have a race between labradors, and if your dog is not the fastest one, he will soon stop chasing the ball with the directness and gusto that you require for competition. Additionally, with other dogs hot on his heels he will be less likely to make a fast pick up and direct return. Using treats can become a fight between participants who threaten your dog over the pieces dropped.
You will be a fair and responsible owner if you commit to spend time with your dog, instead of giving that over to other dogs. The time you spend with your dog in interactive (emphasis on *active*) play that teaches simultaneously, is the best gift you can give. Your dog will look forward to spending time with you, instead of saying "just drop me at the gate."
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Me and My Shadow
I've fallen behind in my posts, but with good reason; I have this puppy who demands all of my time and attention! Since there are only so many hours in the day, and I still have to divide my time between my other dogs who feel they are equally entitled, things get a little hectic.
Quinn tolerates Izzy and has only given her a gentle warning when her leaps on his head got a little out of hand. Mostly because he was attempting to poop, and imagining you can concentrate while having a dutch shepherd dance on your head is asking too much! Jinx hates Izzy, as she does all puppies until they are old enough to play tug of war and roughhouse with her. Then, I guess, they enter into the realm of acceptable creatures. It is much like my feelings toward babies, who poop and scream and drool on themselves in a most unpalatable way. Once they can talk and entertain, they become pretty cool little animals. So I can't fault Jinx for echoing my sentiments toward my own species. Still, I wish she was a little more Roya-ish in that regard. Cooper, on the other hand, is over joyed to have a mini-me who adores him.
Izzy sidles up to his kennel and does the puppy grovel, hoping for a shred of acknowledgement. When outside, she follows him everywhere, ducking when he comes flying back to me and launches himself over her. His favorite thing, however, is introducing her to the joys of water. Cooper has not yet met a body of water he does not like. Pond, creek or ditch, they were all meant to run through! These are the great adventures of youth and Izzy is the younger sister who is allowed to ride in the car; she doesn't know where she is going, but thrills to the fact that her brother let her tag along!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Miss Izzy
Izzy, whose full name is Aura vom haus Becher, joined the FoxTal household yesterday and already she has stolen hearts, human and canine alike. The cats are reserving their opinions.
Izzy was born January 16, 2009. Her dam earned her SchH3 title before she turned 2 years of age. Her sire is a Walworth County patrol/narcotics detection dog named Argos. My very first dutch shepherd, the dog who caused me to love this breed, was also sired by the same officer's patrol dog! Whether you call it fate or kismet or just plain luck, but many years later I again have a female dutch shepherd with the same history.
Izzy's breeder is my god-daughter's step father, and when I stopped to pick up Eeva on Friday I saw the puppies in an exercise pen. To this point, I had not been interested in getting one of the puppies. In fact, it breaks all the rules that I suggest for buyers; neither parent has had hip Xrays submitted for evaluation and there is no registration. After the fact, the breeder is putting together the history so that the litter can be registered but they are not yet registered. I had avoided even handling the puppies for the most part when I had seen them when they were younger, not encouraging any behavior that would endear them to me. So, there I was on Friday, standing next to the pen and noticing that one of the females seemed like a little firecracker. There were ten pups in the litter and only two females. The anecdotal evidence is that the puppies "take from" what surrounds them, so if there is one or two females surrounded in the womb by males, they absorb testosterone and this would be the litter to select a female from if you wanted a strong one. Which I do.
Still not ready to dive off the deep end, I asked Chris to bring her to schutzhund training on Sunday. Later, when I called home to advise my husband I was bringing home another dog I had to admit I had loaded up a puppy crate, so clearly there was more premeditation that I will admit to. I played with her during training and observed that she was oblivious to the gunfire and the other dogs, whips cracking and commotion, and was happy to chase and kill her toy, with a hearty head shake. This is not to say that she wasn't aware of those things; she was. She just was not frightened by them or concerned. She trotted around carrying a toy in her mouth, that little whip of a tail going the whole time. And all I could see was my old Sofie.
She had thrown up twice on the way home, but since then I have been careful not to travel with her on a full stomach and we have not had any problems.
Izzy was born January 16, 2009. Her dam earned her SchH3 title before she turned 2 years of age. Her sire is a Walworth County patrol/narcotics detection dog named Argos. My very first dutch shepherd, the dog who caused me to love this breed, was also sired by the same officer's patrol dog! Whether you call it fate or kismet or just plain luck, but many years later I again have a female dutch shepherd with the same history.
SYLKIIE (carries blue dilute)
Dutch Shepherd's color description is based on their undercoat color; they are either gold brindle or silver brindle, no matter how heavy and dark the overlay is. Dogs with alot of overlay are dark, such as my Cooper, with small amounts of gold brindling visible. Izzy, on the other hand, has much of her base coat showing, and a beautiful black mask. At the moment, her ears haven't made a commitment to standing, but do go erect when something catches her attention. She has what I call "aileron ears", meaning they can fold back and flat against the head. Cooper's ears are like his mother's, small and permanently erect. Sofie, my first dutch shepherd, had the aileron ears. I would call "flaps down" when she would accelerate, as if the ears would become aerodynamic pinned against her head and cause her to go even faster. It seems I will likely seek out things about Izzy that are similar to Sofie. Maybe this serves to justify adding yet another dog to the household, or simply to forge a bond with the past.
Izzy's breeder is my god-daughter's step father, and when I stopped to pick up Eeva on Friday I saw the puppies in an exercise pen. To this point, I had not been interested in getting one of the puppies. In fact, it breaks all the rules that I suggest for buyers; neither parent has had hip Xrays submitted for evaluation and there is no registration. After the fact, the breeder is putting together the history so that the litter can be registered but they are not yet registered. I had avoided even handling the puppies for the most part when I had seen them when they were younger, not encouraging any behavior that would endear them to me. So, there I was on Friday, standing next to the pen and noticing that one of the females seemed like a little firecracker. There were ten pups in the litter and only two females. The anecdotal evidence is that the puppies "take from" what surrounds them, so if there is one or two females surrounded in the womb by males, they absorb testosterone and this would be the litter to select a female from if you wanted a strong one. Which I do.
Still not ready to dive off the deep end, I asked Chris to bring her to schutzhund training on Sunday. Later, when I called home to advise my husband I was bringing home another dog I had to admit I had loaded up a puppy crate, so clearly there was more premeditation that I will admit to. I played with her during training and observed that she was oblivious to the gunfire and the other dogs, whips cracking and commotion, and was happy to chase and kill her toy, with a hearty head shake. This is not to say that she wasn't aware of those things; she was. She just was not frightened by them or concerned. She trotted around carrying a toy in her mouth, that little whip of a tail going the whole time. And all I could see was my old Sofie.
When I arrived home, I unloaded my adult male malinois, Quinn, to take him up to the kennel. Izzy didn't have a call name yet, but she accompanied us, running underneath Quinn and trying to be noticed, but not killed! He ignored her and blessedly avoided urinating on her head. She walked with us to the kennel and when I opened the door, she ran in, too! She showed the same lack of fear when it came to entering the house. The door opened, and she came flew in, daring anyone to tell her she didn't belong! Tom and I discussed names and although it was mentioned, I knew there could not be another Sofie. Something about the name "Izzy" appealed to me. Not that I have a fondness for a character on Grey's Anatomy who sees her dead boyfriend and is likely dying of cancer, but I think it's just a cute name. It spoke to me. And it fits her.
She had thrown up twice on the way home, but since then I have been careful not to travel with her on a full stomach and we have not had any problems.
Today we went to the vet for our "well puppy check up" with Dr. Jay Peters. Once again, Izzy marched in and made herself at home! After chasing and grabbing her toy, she lay on the slippery floor like a frog, hind legs splayed out. She weighs 15.8 lbs and scales are no threat to her. She was pronounced well and happy, with no murmurs, defects or wormy poops. A stop at the pet store prior to our visit outfitted Izzy with multiple chew and chase toys suitable to a puppy, some of the dog food she has been used to eating and a new pink collar that says "Princess."
This afternoon, Izzy took a walk with Cooper and I, down to the pond. She ran as fast as she could, trying to keep up wtih him and when he would pause, she would wrap herself around him and underneath. Cooper was wonderful with her, as well. There was not so much as a growl or rough play, and once when she suddenly placed herself in his way, he leaped over her. She even followed him into the water of the pond! I told him that she may be his girlfriend, but he felt she was a little young for his taste. Back at the house, we continue working on having eating/sleeping/potty on a schedule. She loves to jump on my cat, Kia, who just lays there and ends up with wet ears but no damage, and I figure if Kia doesn't like it she can get the heck out of the way! I've had to remember what it was like to puppy proof the house and to keep an eye on things if a puppy disappears from view! No good can come of that!
So, anyway, there is a new striped addition to Casa Krsnich and her name is Izzy. World, look out!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Where are the water wings?
Jinx had her first hydro-therapy appointment today, at the Animal Referral Center in Appleton. First, being the polite patient that she is, she greeted our therapist, Andrea, with an Easter basket and a treat. Dr Bruce examined her shoulder again, and pronounced it to be very good, very solid, but yes, there is brachial nerve damage.
While Jinx and I were waiting for him in the exam room, and I had her go through her party tricks for me, I noticed that when I asked her to extend her paw to rest on my knee, the paw was curled. This is one of the signs of that damage. It reminded me of patients in comas, or with brain injuries where the hands curl inward. I inquired whether it would be helpful to massage her toes and extend them, as well as to manipulate that joint and the vet and therapist agreed that would be helpful. Another exercise is born! I've had opportunity to perform that several times today and I think this will be good, as I can feel the tension and resistance in extended the paw and toes. I have a feeling I should be placing cotton balls between her toes and painting the nails hot pink!
After our exam, we proceeded to the water room. Jinx has to stand in an enclosed tank, much like a shower stall. On the bottom is a treadmill. The water fills very rapidly, not like filling a bathtub, where the water first tickles your toes and then slowly rises. I am amazed at Jinx's adaptability and understanding, as you might imagine a dog (perhaps a less well trained one!) assuming they were about to drown and struggling to escape the enclosure. She was not cross-tied or secured in anyway, but I stood outside the enclosure on a stool so that I could pet her and give her treats and that was good enough for her to realize there was no danger. The water was raised to mid-leg, just high enough that Jinx would be required to push through it as she walked. I watched Jinx's tail raise and laughed that she wasn't thrilled about getting her "girl parts" wet, so I asked her to sit. That took additional encouragement, and, yes, a bribe, to convince her that she really wanted to sit IN the water!! Once she unconcerned about her position and being wet, we were ready to begin.
Andrea advised "ready" and the treadmill was started.
Jinx has never been on a treadmill before, so this was a new experience. What else is there to do but begin walking? If you stop, you float backwards and then have to catch up! She worked for six minutes, had a brief rest, and worked another six minutes. It was apparent that this will really assist in strenghthening her leg and in getting her to move it forward and strike the ground properly. She was extending it nicely in her push through the water but about one in six times, would knuckle. I will use that frequency to measure our progress.
We have appointments scheduled twice a week for the next two weeks, and will reevaluate at that time. I whisper once again in Jinx's ear that I feel the muscles rippling under her skin already! She offers a paw and a smile.
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