I got TAGGED!

Thank you Destry, for tagging me!!!


The Rules: Each player starts with 7 random facts about themselves. Dogs who are tagged need to post in their diaries "The Rules" and their "7 Pawsome Facts."

Then choose 7 dogs to tag and list their names. Don’t forget to bark them a pmail that they have been tagged and tell them to read your Diary, or send them a fun Rosette announcing they've been Tagged!

7 Pawsome Facts About Fred:

1. I look like a giant pile of Ramen noodles
2. Mom took me to a Bar-B-Q -- I got to eat chicken and play with a pretty Golden named Tess
3. Mom let me sleep in her bed fro the first time last night. Franky, I wasn't what I thought of it! I kept nuzzling Mom and asking - but she just said "If you wanna sleep in your crate go sleep in your crate!" HMPH - she didn't close the DOOR!
4. I ADORE my Mom's son
5. Mom says all Dog like Peanut butter - but I DON'T!
6. I need a HAIRCUT!
7. My favorite toy is MOM!

I Tagged:

Jupiter

Peabody

Diva

YuKi, YuKi_bear

Lily

Gus

Butch

The GAME is A FOOT (or is that APAW?)

I'ts been a while

Since I posted. The whole mess with UMass is still not settled, though Fred does come to classes with me, and no one has objected to his presence in any of the buildings other than the one where I used to work. I worte a proposal for a 4 credit indpendat study to create various service dog protocol media (I am an English major with a specialization in professional writing and technical communications - though I admit you'd never know it from the unedited drec I slap up here! YIKES!) The proposal was accepted so that is a balm to my wounds.

The fact is, Fred is learning his lessons better without having to be in tht madhouse where no one would follow the rules regarding him - AND given that I have not been at my best it is easier to focus on my school work and not have to go to t job too. I did have to take out another student loan to cover the lost income, but I am taking the Scarlett O'Hara approach to that for the time being - "I won't think abut that now, if I do I'll go mad! I'll think about it tomorrow . . .after all - tomorrow is another day!"

One other interesting factoid - Fred seems to be getting DARKER again! He had faded from arpicot to cream, and now the apricot is coming back. I don't know how things will end up - but one breeder did tell me that sometimes apricots have cream undercoats, and when the adult guard hairs come in, they show the true color. Time will tell I suppose!

Things could be better :-(

Mom is very sad - her school was pretty mean to us a while ago and it is a BIG DEAL to try and fix things. Here is a bit of Mom's (and my) story. I'm really REALLY sorry about tthe wire - but - gee . . .

==

I received a "constructive dismissal" from work at the end of November - and have been awfully depressed since. They have banned Fred - so I can't go to work. The simple version is that since i work at a University and there are lots of student employees coming and going all the time - I have to constantly fend off kids who whine 'geeee - can't I pat him NOOOOOWWW??!" make coochie noises and refuse to understand that they are not even supposed to make EYE CONTACT. Comraderie was an important aspect of my job -and since I am the age of most of these kids Mom's I was always aware that I needed to be nice to keep them on my side. Classic rock and a hard place.

Fred's primary sin is looking like a big ol' muppet. So it's been near impossible to keep him under really strict control (though the fact is that for a pup in training he does very WELL - like any pup is someone says 'ohh - pretty puppy" he is gonna wag his tail!). The administration made it very difficult for ME to enforce the rules regarding SDs - and would not help do so themselves. They refused to let me add a page about service dog protocol to the employee training manual - or put up signs. Nor would they take the 2 minute it would have taken while orienting new staff (which happens almost every week) to mention Fred and how they should behave towards him. On the other hand - if *I* were firm about it (and no I was never hostile, nasty, threatening or any of the things one can so easily become ween frustrated in this way) I was told I was "being negative" and "taking supervisory roles on myself without permission." "Who do you think you are?" and so on. The mangers would also stand right by where I was working and toss a ball back and forth while they talked - and then give ME the evil eye if Fred showed interest in the ball (he only actually tried to chase it once) Can you say "set up?" - I do believe you can!

Now - it is the policy of both my STATE and my UNIVERSITY to allow service dogs in training. By definition, and dog in training is going to require MANAGEMENT. When Fred hit adolescence and the final throws of teething - I told them over and over that something needed to be done about the computer cables that here hanging down in the only area he could have as his 'spot' without being in the way. I was denied the opportunity to baffle the wires - or use biter apple on them - and told not to worry about it they would take care of it. I went to them on the mater at least four times. They continued to tell me I was worrying too much - they'd fix it. They did not.

Well, as you may expect: One day I was in a very intense conversation with an alum on the phone (part of my job) and did not notice Fred had decided to relive his gums on the Cat 5 cable to my PC. Next thing *I* know - I'm being told that my dog has always been a distraction (err - no - THEY distract my DOG!) and now that he had "destroyed University property" (the exact property I had been rendered powerless to protect - which they PROMISED to protect and did not) that Fred was no longer allowed at work and that they hoped he would not be allowed on campus at all. They then had the gall to tell me they valued my work and hoped I'd stay on - sans Fred.

So - my stand and my lawyer's stand is that by refusing to allow me such simple management of Fred's behavior by allowing other staff to interfere with his training and preventing me form enforcing regulations regarding service animals - they have refused me reasonable accommodation.

Who knows where this will go? I just know it is making life very hard for us right now.

Mom called me a WEED!

Or, anyway, she says I grow like one. I now weigh FOURTY THREE POUNDS! My sire only weighs 44 pounds. Lookout Daddy! Your baby boy is catching up!! My Fur Mom is closer to 50 pounds though - so now we'll see . . .

Mama says EWWWW!

This is Mom's latest post to her Poodle Group on Yahoo -- she said I could share"

====

Well - stupid me - I thought deer tick season was over and stopped using FRONTLINE. My dear, ever so creamy poodle LOVES to nose around in the leaf mulch - so many critters, so little time. He had THREE - count 'em THREE attached deer ticks on his face yesterday. Once was engorged. I have been letting him go all shaggy, and he is, after all, the color of deer ticks (like a sesame seed) so I never saw them until I went to comb his face.

So - now I have an OSTER kit to keep him trimmed between pro jobs - will be making an appointment for a VERY SHORT utility cut - and have alerted my vet who will have the nurse call me in two months to go in for blood work. We have also restarted the FRONTLINE AND - I have to watch for Lyme symptoms on myself as well.

Wouldn't you know that when I found these evil bugs I was sitting with Fred on my bed (which had fresh linens on - but was unmade - I've never gotten into the habit of making my bed regularly between linen changes) and was feeling so happy about my new high thread count butter-cream colored sheets. Just try finding a deer tick on THOSE!

GROSS!

Note to self: Never comb dog on bed unless using the navy blue or burgundy sheets.


====

Dunno what the fuss is about. But, she said the word VET and I bet the try and put me on the SCALE thing again!

FIVE PERFECT RECALLS!

Mom and I are so proud! I've kinda liked to play "keep away" when Mom called me in from off leash. I didn't understand how dangerous it was - i just thought I was having fun. One day a couple of weeks ago the leash slipped out of Mom's had - and I ran out into traffic. She said those cars could HIT ME! Really!? But they stopped! Made some icky nose though . . . No one was hurt - but Mom cried and she talked to me REAL SERIOUS LIKE.

Since then, we've been playing the "come" game. At first I thought it was kinda dull - bu then i figured out I could run in circles and then come and sit on Mom's feet when she called me. Every time I did it, she clapped and told me how W-O-N-D-E-R-F-U-L I am. Today - we went to the ball field near where I took off that time. We were way back from the road, but close enough that Mom thought she was making her point (I GET already Mom! I GET IT!!)

I ran round and round in the ball-field - and came back SIX TIME! One time I did have to be told twice - but every other time I was PERFECT! Mom gave me lots of special treats and scritched me all over.

"Come" is a pretty good game after all.

I'm so PROUD!

Mom says that sometimes, walking nicely on a leash can be the hardest lesson. But- I've learned it well enough that i don't use any training leads any more! I have a nice new purple flat buckle collar - the grown up kind - and a nice new purple six foot lead to go with it. I walk nicely at Mom's side. Sometimes I see a squirrel - but Mom reminds me not to chase it by making this weird noise - and we keep right on walking.

She says I'm a VERY good boy!

I REALLY don't like SCALES!

So it turned out the scale at the pet-shop it just plan busted. Mom thinks they should fix it. *I* think they should send it to the dump!

But - Mom is nothing if not persistent. We dropped by Dr. Ellis' office (his scale is in his waiting room) and a nice vet nurse gave me a cookie - but then she helped Mom manuver me onto that darn SCALE!

I hate 'em hate 'em hate 'em and they make me stand on it anyway.

Well - they said I am now 21.5 inches and 38.2 pounds. Mom's gestimates were not far from wrong.

Then Mom went and made an appointment for Novemer 7th with the groomer. Goo d thing she got me a jacket! I'm gonna try to put on a few more ounces so I won't weigh under 38 pounds when they cut off my curls!

BOL!

Cesar's Way may not be the BEST way

MOM wants you all to consider:

This is from the San Francisco Chronicle. I'm reprinting it here because I feel it is very important. If i have transgressed, I am sorry and will delete the entry. I did not just provide the link because i was afraid that - as so often happens - the original article would no longer be at the original URL.

Hats off to Senior Milan for drawing attention to the needs of our canine family members - but shame on National Geographic for not presenting a more balanced view!

====

San Francisco Chronicle
The Anti-Cesar Millan
Ian Dunbar's been succeeding for 25 years with lure-reward dog training; how come he's been usurped by the flashy, aggressive TV host?

Louise Rafkin

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Ian Dunbar: The original dog whisperer. Chronicle photo b... Dog trainer Ian Dunbar at work with his American bulldog ... Dunbar walks Ollie (a hound mix) and Dune near his Berkel... Dunbar relaxing at home with Ollie. Chronicle photo by Mi... More...

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It's late afternoon at Point Isabel, prime time at the Bay Area's popular off-leash dog park, and the man some call the most innovative in the field of dog training weaves unnoticed through the two- and four-legged throngs. No one recognizes the slight, snow-haired man dressed in Berkeley-esque traveler's clothes (well-pocketed shirt and cargo pants) as Dr. Ian Dunbar, the man who wrote the book -- rather, six books -- on pet dog training and the guy who developed one of the earliest puppy-training courses in the country. Dunbar is 59, and though he's been away from his native England for decades (since 1971), he carries the air of an English gentleman. Occasionally British colloquialisms slip into conversation. "I was gob-smacked!" is how he explains his recent shock over a case of dog-owner ignorance.

With an eager border collie obsessively dropping a ball at his feet, Dunbar scans the Point Isabel regulars. It's hard to imagine he's not passing judgment on particular behaviors, but mostly he smiles at the four-legged passers-by. Thirty-five years of studying dogs has not dulled him to simple joys.

"Bay Area dogs are so cool, so friendly and polite," he says. When a brown fluff ball approaches jauntily and sniffs his pant leg, he genuinely gushes. "What a cute puppy!" Then an incessant barker demands attention. "We've heard," he says firmly to the lab. "Haven't you got anything else to say?"

Though they probably don't know it, Dunbar's training methodology has probably influenced the pet-owner relationship of almost everyone here at the park. He says he was the first to preach the once revolutionary idea of training puppies off leash (formerly only those six months and older were thought trainable) and also says he was the first to stuff food into a Kong (the conical shaped rubber chew toy and object of desire of most chewing-age puppies), thus saving table legs and Italian loafers worldwide. More important, his methods and theories have saved dogs' lives. Dog training is his passion, but it's not simply because he finds a well-trained pet a thing of beauty.

Training, he says, saves dogs' lives.

"Without training, the life of a puppy is predictable: chewing, soiling the house, digging up the garden, followed by a trip to the shelter where, if it's lucky, it gets another try," he says, wearily. "Without training, that dog will be dead in less than a year."

There is a quiet battle being fought in dog-training circles, and Dunbar, though he didn't pick the fight, represents one side. The mild, very mannered Dunbar is armed with degrees and scientific study: a veterinary degree and a Special Honors in physiology and biochemistry from the Royal Veterinary College of London University, a doctorate in animal behavior from the psychology department of UC Berkeley and a decade of research on the olfactory communication, social behavior and aggression in domestic dogs. All this, plus decades of dog-training experience.

Impressive, yes, but his opponent in this training controversy is backed by big business, Hollywood celebrity and, even worse, some say, the power of charisma. Cesar Millan, a.k.a. the Dog Whisperer, has his own television series on the National Geographic Channel and is churning out a burgeoning enterprise of videos and books. The subject of a recent New Yorker profile by Malcolm Gladwell, Millan is often photographed on high-tech in-line skates, leading a pack of pit bulls, rottweilers and German shepherds. The sexy Millan's dog-handling credentials include an upbringing on a Mexican farm, an "uncanny gift for communicating with dogs" and his Dog Psychology Center in Los Angeles. There, with a pack of 50 dogs, he rehabilitates wayward canines.

Besides foreign roots, there is little these two men share, except, as Dunbar points out, the bedrock belief that all dogs can and should be trained. If this were a dogfight, it would be the unlikely match between a pit bull and a border collie -- unlikely, because those who know dogs know the border collie would simply leave. In this case, however, those watching the fight keep pushing the smart dog back in the ring. Top dog trainers nationwide have expressed dismay that Millan is the current face of dog training, and most say that Dunbar should be the one with the empire. It's a perennial conflict in training discourse. Are results best achieved through rewarding good behavior or punishing bad?

Millan subscribes loosely to the idea of the pack, a dogs-as-wolves theory that had long ago fallen out of favor with many trainers. Touting dominance by pet owners, and the dictate to create "calm submission" in their charges, Millan says owners are essentially pack leaders. "I teach owners how to practice exercise, discipline and then affection, which allows dogs to be in a calm, submissive state," he explains when asked to clarify. "Most owners in America only practice affection, affection, affection, which does not create a balanced dog.

"Training," says Millan, "only teaches the dogs how to obey commands -- sit, roll over -- it does not have anything to do with dog psychology."

In his recent best-seller, "Cesar's Way," Millan writes that there are only two positions in a relationship, leader or follower. "I work with dogs all the time that are trained but not balanced." Included in Millan's repertoire is a snappy touch that he claims mimics a corrective response by pack leaders, "alpha rollovers" (forcibly making a dog show its belly), and submission to being rear sniffed.

"Never heard of that," says Dunbar when asked about bottom sniffing, but he is loath to completely discount Millan. Indeed, both trainers advocate any techniques that are humane and work for the dogs and the owner.

"He has nice dog skills, but from a scientific point of view, what he says is, well ... different," says Dunbar. "Heaven forbid if anyone else tries his methods, because a lot of what he does is not without danger." "Don't try this at home" messages are flashed throughout the show, and in September, the American Humane Association requested that the National Geographic Channel stop the show immediately, citing Millan's training tactics as "inhumane, outdated and improper."

Writer Mark Derr, in a recent New York Times editorial, went as far as to call Millan a "charming, one-man wrecking ball directed at 40 years of progress in understanding and shaping dog behavior."

Nicholas Dodman, program director for the Animal Behavior Clinic at the Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine at Tufts University and author of "Dogs Behaving Badly," goes even further. He calls Millan's techniques "abuse." A TV producer claiming his dog was injured while training at the Dog Psychology Center is reportedly suing Millan.

While distaste for Millan might be growing, Dunbar focuses on discounting the myths such training ideas foster. Dogs aren't wolves, Dunbar says, generations of evolution separate the two animals. "Learning from wolves to interact with pet dogs makes about as much sense as, 'I want to improve my parenting -- let's see how the chimps do it!' "

Dunbar claims compliance, the goal of all dog training, is most often achieved through positive training methods. His lure-reward methods -- using treats and praise -- have an even higher rate of success if there is puppy socialization. Indeed, puppies put Dunbar on the dog-training track. In 1981, after buying an 8-week-old malamute, Dunbar sought a puppy class. He cast out as far as Sacramento and Carmel but came up with nothing. At the time, common understanding was that dogs couldn't be trained until they were 5 or 6 months old, but from his studies, Dunbar knew dogs were learning behaviors long before that. Though his academic interest was in dog olfactory research and sexuality ("dog humping," he shorthands), Dunbar soon found himself venturing out of the ivory tower. He found that he enjoyed educating pet owners and began developing a training program using positive feedback, games and treats.

Sirius Dog Training, as Dunbar called it, showed proven positive results from early off-leash training. His classes, and the resulting video, were embraced by trainers and owners alike. Many say Sirius spurred the demise of punitive, punishment-based training that was the vogue after World War II. In 1993, Dunbar founded the Association of Pet Dog Trainers whose mission is to promote better training through education.

The return to dominance training such as Millan's, Dunbar says, is a disservice to dogs more than anything else. Though Millan gets results, Dunbar notes that most people don't have Millan's strength or skill, and even fewer keep dozens of dogs. "I teach methods that a supervised 4-year-old can use," Dunbar says. Having been called as a witness in high-profile Bay Area bite trials -- he was one of a team who evaluated one of the dogs involved in the deadly attack on Diane Whipple in 2001 -- he is all too familiar with the violent underbelly of dog aggression. Fear, he underscores, doesn't train a reliable dog.

Claudia Kawczynska, editor of Bark magazine, is one of Dunbar's many fans. "It's irritating to see Millan treated as the expert. Ian is an animal behaviorist with decades of experience," she says, "He should be where Millan is." Kawczynska likens the Millan cult of personality and popularity to the anti-science, anti-academic sentiment she sees prevalent in American culture and politics. "Millan lived on a farm, so what? He's good looking, but he's not smart about dogs. It seems people don't want their experts to be educated."

Dunbar refuses to comment on whether his lack of profile is due to his weighty credentials, though a Millan fan on Gladwell's blog says the backlash against the Dog Whisperer is "because Malcolm had written about the unschooled Millan rather than a string of PhDs that the average person has never heard of -- and never will."

Jean Donaldson, director of dog training at the SFSPCA and author of "Culture Clash," a book about the human-dog relationship, views the history of dog training in pre- and post-Dunbar eras. "Ian is the man," she says. "He revolutionized the field." She, too, thinks Millan is tapping into something deeper in the current culture -- and his machismo is only part of it. "It's a backlash against political correctness," she says. "People are angry and life is frustrating and [when] someone tells them it's all about dominating something smaller and weaker? They'll go for that."

"Dunbar puts training in the owner's hands," says Aishe Berger, co-owner of SF Puppy Prep, a puppy day care facility that promotes Dunbar's theory of early socialization. "His methods are based on science and learning theory, not the kind of 'magic' touted by the gurulike Millan."

But if the magic works, who wouldn't want magic?

There's the catch: Since Millan's program has gained popularity, Donaldson reports, the SPCA has been flooded with calls from confused and frustrated owners who want her to decipher -- and give them the scoop -- on Millan's "mysterious pinch."

Dr. Patricia McConnell, author of "For the Love of a Dog: Understanding Emotion in Your Best Friend" and the animal behaviorist on Animal Planet's "Petline," goes as far as to say that Millan has put dog training back 20 years. "Dunbar is a world authority," she says, "and he should be the one with the celebrity."

Dunbar doesn't argue with that. Though he hosted five years of a TV training show in England, "Dogs With Dunbar," Hollywood never bit on it, or on his other ideas, several of which are tinged with the odor of ever-popular reality TV. "Shelter Dog Makeover" ("We'd groom them, train them and find them a new home!") and "Train That Dog" (trainers compete to train a dog to do various tricks and obedience trials in the least amount of time) were two he thought most promising. Dunbar says Animal Planet mucky-mucks said they turned tail at his foreign accent, but he doubts that was the real truth. After all, the channel vaulted to popularity with hosts from Down Under.

As for books, of which he has sold hundreds of thousands, his first experience in publishing colored his view of New York representation. Dozens of publishers turned his first book down, but the one who finally came through soured him to New York publishing. He bemoans the editing that was done on his work, and the publishing experience itself disappointed him. The numbers of books sold, he said, never really added up to what was reported -- and what he knew himself had moved.

Some local experts lament Dunbar's failure to go mainstream, citing his unwillingness to lose control over every aspect of his work, including editing.

For himself, Dunbar has almost given up on the megamedia, though he says he could name 20 excellent and attractive trainers who could make a show fly. He's got other ideas. One groups experts from many fields -- a psychologist, a puppy trainer, a hostage negotiator and a grandmother with the wisdom of life experience -- who would be presented with a problem such as a husband who won't come home from the bar after work. Each expert would devise a plan and the favorite would be implemented on the show.

"All training is negotiation," Dunbar says, "whether you're training dogs or spouses." Indeed, a recent article in the New York Times titled "What Shamu Taught Me About a Happy Marriage" hit a nerve when the author, Amy Sutherland, who writes on exotic animal training, admitted using training techniques on her partner. Dunbar agrees with Sutherland's premise that training is training is training. "You can instill fear in your kids and get them to mind, but they won't function better in the world and your relationship will suffer greatly," he adds.

"Problems that need correcting are the thin end of the wedge," he says, "with dogs and people." It doesn't take much, he claims. A smile, a kind word. "You don't have to give M&M's all the time. People -- and dogs -- are dying to be trained."

Dunbar has a 23-year-old son, Jamie, a wooden dory river guide, with his first wife, Mimi, and says his family configuration is "very Berkeley" -- both his current wife (and former dog-sitter), Kelly Gorman, and his ex-wife are on friendly terms. Gorman, also a trainer and a founder of Open Paw, an international humane animal education program for pet owners and shelters, has done a good job of training him, he reports. Currently in the midst of giving up his much-loved cigars, Dunbar muses that Gorman is actually the better trainer of the pair. Two of the couple's three dogs are hers: Dune, an American bulldog, and Ollie, a rescue from Chicago Heights Humane Society. The third, Claude, a 110-pound rottweiler-coon-hound mix from the SFSPCA, is what Dunbar calls a "special needs" case. "We train him one day, and the next day we start over again. He's more than not bright."

Despite a lack of publicity, Dunbar's recent talk on dog aggression at a local bookstore brought out a full house of fans, many with pen and paper at the ready. With little sign of any training controversy, there is, however, evidence of Dunbar's status as local cult leader by the standing-room-only crowd. During his hourlong lecture, Dunbar explained the physiology of dog aggression in a way that showcased his British humor. He easily charmed the audience with jokes and witticisms; his dog impersonations, including a rear view, full-bottom wiggle, kept the audience enthralled and grinning. Though every move he made was carefully watched and met with nods of knowingness, at times he looked a tad silly. He giggled, he gushed and he panted. Having just returned from Tokyo, he contorted his face in an impersonation of a Japanese dachshund. Could an American TV audience have embraced this kind of goofiness?

At the end of the hour, Dunbar had to leave to get ready for yet another seminar, this time in the Midwest, one of the few left to which he has committed. With 850 full-day seminars behind him, Dunbar is winding down touring. He's considering living in southern France or traveling for pleasure, one of his passions. He's passing his baton to others who will no doubt continue the struggle over dog-training particulars. But without Dunbar's engagements to drive the sales of his training guides and videos, it's easy to imagine that flashier, more commercial materials will easily eat up his market. Whether those will reflect his ideas -- or Millan's -- it's hard to say.

At least half the audience still has questions for the expert, but despite raised hands, Dunbar uses the last minute to reiterate his training philosophy. "We need to thank our dogs for being good," he says, launching into a wrap-up more spiritual than practical. "Every morning I give thanks for waking up -- the alternative is not so good. Too often, we forget to be thankful." Clearly, he's from Berkeley, not Hollywood.

Louise Rafkin last wrote for the Magazine about her life as an undocumented worker.

DOGGONE Have I GROWN!

Mom tried to weigh me yesterday. But - YEA FOR ME! - the batteries on the scale at the pet shop were dead. I DO NOT LIKE getting on a scale. Mom keeps telling me it's just a mat. But I know better! It's something icky - I just KNOW it! I can't explain it to Mom though. She doesn't get it.

But - she measured me for a new harness and I am 21 inches at the shoulder and 24 inches round the biggest part of my chest. Mom says she "guesstimates" I weigh about 40 pounds.

Mom says my training is going very very well. She's says sometimes I'm TOO smart. Sheesh - what's TOO smart?

So I'm big and I'm smart and I'm pretty and I'm soft to snuggle with. What more could a human Mom want?

She should remember how wonderful I am next time I get into her dressing room and eat one of her hangers.

BOL!