The story of how I died

Mom shipped me back to the US so I could work with someone who felt like climbing their butt out of bed in the morning. Life was good. I got to do drills and stuff with Mom's friend's Rotties while Mom's trainer friend spent a lot of time working me. Life was good and full.

Until Monday morning. I was outside playing and found this stinky smelling critter that rattled at me. I decided to mess with it and it bit me on the nose twice.

When I was found, I was already running hot, but I was breathing funny. One of the teens helped get me loaded into the truck and off to the vet we went. Before we got there, I saw this light and I went towards it.

I guess my new job is to be guardian angel for Mom and Scooter. My new family is pretty upset about it as well as my trainer. They had to call Mom.

Mom steps up on my soapbox

Tuesday May 27th

This is one of those occasions where Mom is going to use my diary as a soapbox.

I think that the pup importation ban that was attached to the Farm Bill sucks.

How many pups really come from foreign puppy mills? Current airline regulations call for air carrier to not transport pups under 8 weeks. All that was needed was mandatory vet certificates (clearly stating the animal's date of birth) and a copy of any registration paperwork. If someone tries to sneak in a younger pup, FINE THEM. If the vet assists in the fraud, FINE THEM.

Who is this legislation really protecting? US puppy mills.

Who is this legislation going to hurt? Law Enforcement, SAR, and the working dog community (those who train/supply PPDs, Shutzhund, French Ring, NVBK, ect). The trainers (AKA Vendors) who import the pups and get them started will end up paying more for initial purchases. This increase will be passed on to the end user, which, in the case of the Military and Police K-9's, will come out of the tax payers' pockets. It also means that quality may be sacrificed as the best dogs go quickly.

Add in a recent Newsweek article that criticizes the price of green imports and this becomes a huge can of worms. This article questions both the premium price for these imports and why our government is not buying American.

Frankly, when it comes to working dogs, "Made In America" translates into "A piece of crap". Maybe if American dogs weren't bred to just stand around and look pretty, they'd be worth a second look. It really isn't that difficult to understand - you get what you pay for. In this case the extra cash paid for a European import generally translates into a longer working life, better temperament (less chance for lawsuits), and all around better athleticism.

This situation also serves as a good example of how watering down a breed isn't in anyones' best interest.

Vet Visit...Got to Meet Some Comrades...Riding the Bus

Wednesday, May 14

Mom got me an appointment. Scooter decided to be a little hemorrhoid so we missed the bus we needed to catch. Mom and I walked to the vet clinic. Thankfully, it wasn't oppressively hot (nice cool wind), but it was still a lot of work. Poor Mom had to tote 2 liters of water for me. I heard mumbling about a new Ruffwear pack in my future.

We kept a brisk pace for going up the big hill and through Itaewon. The gate we needed wasn't as far as Mom thought and the clinic was right there.

Doc snipped off the skin and liked Mom's idea of rotating the neosporin with the Cut Heal. He also suggested that we might try some of the nasty blue stuff that Mom use to keep in her bag of tricks. They discussed carpal boots since it is obvious that I use those pads quite a bit. On the way out, he was quizzing the tech about what that pad was called. She didn't know. Mom did. So he asked us if we knew what the big one on the bottom was. Mom threw out two answers. One of which was right. Go Mom!

Oh, when we walked into the building, there was a woman sitting AT THE DOOR with a Chi in a crate. He started raising hell as soon as we opened the door. Mom told me to Ignore It. I did. It was annoying; she kept telling him to hush and he'd just get louder. Then on the way out, there was this shaggy mutt that wanted to catch me. Mom made me walk off sides to stay between us. Military pets are just like military kids; some are much better behaved than others. Those that aren't have parents that believe they are precious little snowflakes that can do no wrong.

We found the bus stop for the Post Run. That was interesting. The bus was crowded. We ended up 2 rows from the back and stuck with a tire hump in the floor space. I really didn't want to cram myself in there. It was a small space. (Seriously, airline economy seats have more leg room.) Yes, I'm a big girl, but my butt is almost too big to fit. Getting out was worse than getting in. I had to back out and got turned around, so then I had to turn around in the aisle. No fun.

Mom decided to get off the bus unexpectedly. She had spotted the Dog Boys (and Girl). One was actively working out on the soccer field. He looked like a slightly shorter haired version of Destry (who I think is an absolute hunk). Mom introduced us to the rest of the team while the handsome boy finished looking for explosives. Then we watched as a male Mal worked on narcotics. He was a handsome guy too, but I'm bigger than he is.

I was Miss Congeniality with everyone. Hopefully, this will be the thing so that I can go play with the big boys. I need something constructive to do and they do constructive stuff all the time.

We were close to our mail room (which is in BFE), so we checked it and met Dad. It was an interesting walk to the PX to pick up a few things. Since I need more bus work, Mom wasn't in the mood to walk home, and we had some time to kill, we went into the food court.

There is no way I can lay under one of those tables. Most of them are barely big enough to get 4 chairs around. The booths aren't much bigger. Mom picked an out of the way mini-booth and I laid down beside her.

The ride home was interesting as well. I walked onto the bus like I owned it. Since it was at the bus station, Dad was the first person on and we were right behind him. Mom backed me into the space and told me to sit. I refused. I braced my legs and decided it would be a test of wills. Mom proved, once again, that she's the Alpha B in our house. She then told me that I had better keep my butt planted (using the tone and the look that means she was more than serious). I didn't lift my rear until she told me to stand up when we reached the compound. The bus got FULL. Bad enough that I think we had the only "empty" seat, but that is because I was sitting in front of it. There is no way I could sit between Mom's feet on this bus.

The guy that Mom, Dad, and Scooter had seen the day before with the huge teddy bear was there during my little tantrum. He had been asking Mom about me (and Scooter) before we got on the bus. She had explained that I'm still learning my tasks while we are also working on my public skills and that the latter needs more work and pointing out that if we were in the States, we wouldn't be working on public transportation training. After I showed out, Mom pointed out that was part of what she meant when she said I'm not ready. He laughed and told her that I'm still better behaved than 99% of the dogs he's been around.

I've got what Mom calls a "Little Fan". She's under three and very tiny. She saw us walking towards the building and was going to come off the playground to say hello. Her Mom is really nice too. She asked if my fan could pet me. Mom was impressed that the child remembered that I have to be told I can visit. As soon as Mom told me, she stuck her hand out for me to sniff. She giggled when I kissed her hand, then eased over to pet me on the neck and shoulder. For such a young kid, she understands being gentle and to rub not hit. With me sitting, I can actually look down on her; she's that small. She calls me "Puppy." When she was done, she told me bye and went back to play. All Mom can say is that she has been taught well. (Don't we wish they all were.)

Scooter actually greeted me at the door, like he hadn't seen me in a year. He was mad at Mom for about five minutes before he decided to just climb in her lap and tell her about it.

I had to cool down before I could eat. Mom doctored my foot and I sacked out. It was a long afternoon.

Dad did take a picture of me on the bus. Hopefully, he will download it so Mom can put it on my page.

On the Injured Reserved List

Tuesday, May 13th

When Mom came home from class, I demanded her attention. Generally, I only do this when I want to alert. Scooter had been with her all day and hadn't, so she wondered what was up. I gave her a hug. When she went to support my front legs, she hit my boo-boo. That is what I was trying to tell her. I hurt myself the other night.

I've ripped a portion of my right carpal pad where it meets skin and have a flap sticking up. I sucked it up really well because I'm not limping or favoring it, except if you touch it or right near it.

Half of Mom's "medical supplies" are still hidden in the spare room while the other half had to be tracked down since Dad wasn't sure what went where when he was putting stuff up. Mom doesn't have it all in her big tool box/tackle box anymore. Plus, since she doesn't have any bullies (APBTs) with her, she's not kept the box quite as up to par as she now realizes she needs. She did have the basics, though she will have to reorder some stuff.

She cleaned it out and debated clipping the hair. She was tired (she had only slept for 3 hours the night before, had been out all day; even Scooter was sacked out and had no inclination to come help supervise any possible "torture" that might come my way). I learned what Cut Heal gel is. To a doggy nose, it is a combination of something that smells a bit like both Heaven and Hell. It didn't hurt or burn (Mom knows since she's used it on herself many a time). Then I got a piece of white stuff, then wrapped with black stuff topped with a piece of tape.

It was like a sporty bracelet or something. The first time I tried to mess with it, I was told NO so I went back to my kong. Mom couldn't find any bitter apple spray, so that is another thing to add to her list of stuff she needs to get.

Mom took the bandage off when she put me in my crate for the night. I only got the bandage to keep me from getting the Cut Heal all over the carpet. Though, Mom did find a whole roll of pink co-flex.

How did I do this? I went long for a throw Dad made and skidded to a stop on the concrete (we were playing in the grass; he way overthrew the kong).

Wednesday, May 14

Mom got up bright and early to call the base vet clinic. It took 30 minutes to get someone to answer the phone. She described the problem. The vet is due in at 10AM and will call us back.

Normally, Mom would just handle the situation, but as she pointed out to Dad, I'm not a bully. Yes, I'm very stoic and took a lot of poking and touching until she found the problem, but because I had yanked away so hard when she first touched it (not knowing I was hurt), she doesn't think I could handle it.

She's calling this a logistical nightmare. We will have to take the shuttle bus to base then switch over to the post run bus, get off as close as we can and then still climb a small mountain. I think she's worried I won't be up to the walk or that we are going to have problems getting on the bus since she and I haven't done that since we've been here. She called Dad to remind him to call the dealership about the vehicle she wants or else she's going to find someone to call them for her (since no one there speaks any English). If she can find out where the dealership is located, she can get there and make it known what vehicle she wants. She has a book of phrases that covers shopping situations.

This has made her start looking at her off-base options for our health care. She needs to map out how far it is to the university teaching hospital. As far as top of the line stuff, they are probably going to be it. We also need a local after hours clinic.

Play, Play, Play... Guys w/ Attitude Problems, part- I...Visit with MPs...Guys w/ Attitude Problems Pt II

Thursday, April 24

I got to play. Mom got a shot in her shoulder/back so she couldn't throw my kong, so Dad took over. Someone had left a baseball in the area next to the ball field. Scooter and I were both really good and left it alone. I also ignored the baseball practice that was going on in the field.

Thursday, May 8

We went to play fetch. Mom was feeling crappy so Dad just kept throwing my kong until I decided I was exhausted. Scooter stepped on something on the way home and started limping. Mom didn't have enough light to check it out, so she carried him home. Turns out the gardeners had trimmed the vining rose bushes and he had stepped on one of the smaller thorns (thankfully not one of the big ones, cuz they are huge).

Friday May 9th

Dad took me out to potty. We were coming back onto the breezeway/large entry area/porch when some guy was yelling at his girl. He toned down the yelling, but was still giving her hell when they got into the elevator with us. I didn't like his attitude so I put myself in a "Defense of Handler" position (standing facing the guy in front of Dad) so I could easily give the guy "The Look". Dad made me move back to a heel, but I still stuck my head around so I could keep up the eye contact. The guy kept berating his girl. Not cool.

Mom has been on Dad about watching my body language (plus he knows all of my K-9 commands, just in case). I was about to get vocal with the guy, so Dad told the guy to knock it off and pointed to me. That is when Mr. Attitude Problem realizes I'm not giving him a warm and fuzzy look.

Dad told Mom that instead of my usual "I must check that the hallway is secure", I went to a rear Defense of Handler position so I could give Mr. AP the evil eye until the elevator doors closed.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE people, but I don't like guys like that. He wasn't in uniform, so I looked at him like a potential perp. Yes, I understand the whole uniform thing (police, military, and scrubs). Mom does have concerns about what I might do if someone's weapon cleared their holster. I've been exposed to all of that kind of stuff. The noise and what to do if a bad guy has one.

I've been not listening to Dad as well as I should, mainly when Mom is around. He can tell me to heel and I will go try to heel beside her, even if he has my leash. So Dad is working me on some of my basics.

Monday, May 13

Mom was feeling better thanks to some good meds, so I convinced her and Dad to take Scooter and I out to play. Mom had worked me and thrown my kong for a bit when she decided to let Dad have a go of it. She was sitting on the ground with Scooter (while I was taking a mini breather) when two MPs come up and said we had to leave; No pets. Dad answered before Mom. "They are both Service Dogs."
MP>"Military Service Dogs?"
Mom>"No, Medical Alert Service Dogs."
One of the guys gets on his cell phone.
MP>"Does one of you work for the 121 or something?"
Mom>"No, they are MY Service Dogs. I have a medical condition."
Dad explains that the dogs are approved to be in housing here.
The one on the phone tells the other one to ask what is wrong with Mom.
Mom."Legally, you can't ask me that." That gets relayed over the phone. So Mom grabs a Sit/Stay card out of her wallet and hands it to the closest MP.
Mom>"I'm not trying to be a smart ass, but you guys need to read this to understand why I said that was an illegal question."

He read it and showed it to the other guy. They apologized. Dad asked who called it in. Female caller. They went back to their office up front. Why can't these people (the small minded biddies with nothing better to do than try to cause us grief) mind their own business?

We stayed longer just to show we weren't run off.

It has made Mom think about putting a set of ID (for us) in our play bag since we generally don't wear our vests. It just happened that Scooter had on his harness that has a SD rocker on it.

Dad pointed out to Mom that they (MPs) stayed on the other side of the 6 foot fence from us. That made Mom laugh. Then again, they did see me go barreling after my kong.

Oh yeah, before we went out to play, Dad was taking out the trash when he ran into Mr. Attitude Problem and his girl. Three guesses as to what he was doing (and the first two don't count). The guy said something to Dad about "What, no dog." Dad told him he didn't need a dog. The guy said something smart so Dad asked him which branch he was in. He's not; she is. So Dad looked over at her and told her that she didn't have to take that kind of crap. That she could go up her chain of command. That left Mr. AP speechless and she looked sorta relieved.

Guys like that piss me off.

Another small outing, ode to my drumstick

Monday, April 21

Mom and Scooter were gone for a bit this morning and then again this afternoon. When they came in the second time, I knew Mom was going to be sick so I alerted. She undressed Scooter and quickly brushed me out and dressed me. We stopped for a minute to chat with Dad's boss. He was at one of the playgrounds with his son.

Mom had talked to the commissary manager last month about me going to the big store. His only question was am I as well behaved as Scooter. He had asked about me earlier in the day when Mom was in the compound commissary (with Scooter) to get a drink before they caught the bus. Well he was still there when we walked in. He and Mom chatted for a few and he was impressed with how quiet I am. Mom and I were in sync and it was awesome. It made Mom proud.

We got home and Dad took me out on the porch to furminate me (again). When he got done, Mom vacuumed me with a brush and hose attachment. I enjoyed that.

My foot is feeling better, but Mom says I sorta need to watch it for a bit more.



Tuesday,April 22

Mom got up really early. Scooter went back to bed. Then someone knocked on the door. They were being really noisy and Mom was near the door, so I let out a single low, but very sharp WOOF. Mom then told me to be quiet and to sit.

She came walking back into the living room with the visitors. I gave the first one "The Look" and he sorta freaked out. That set the tone. When I saw there were two of them, I let Mom know I wanted her close to me since I was tethered in the living room. (Yeah, as if I couldn't drag that piece of furniture across the room or break the lead.)

She came over to me and I took up a defensive position, sat, and watched them. It didn't even phase me when they set off the smoke alarm and it was very noisy.

Mom was a little mad because were supposed to be here at 8AM and they didn't show until 9:30, but otherwise everything was cool.

Wednesday, April 23

Oh my luscious turkey drumstick
How I love thee!
Though it makes me soo sad
My rumbly tummy says you don't love me.

"The Look"...Pesky Little Brothers...Feeling Gimpy

Wednesday April 16

Scooter woke Mom up at 5:30 this morning. They saw some MPs walk into the building. When they got off the elevator, they were standing at one of the doors on our floor. I let Mom know that I wasn't willing to wait to give anyone a chance to leave. I needed to go. Mom doesn't walk real well first thing in the morning, so going down the stairs (and avoiding the whole wait for an elevator) is out of the question.

It seemed like it took the elevator FOREVER to get to our floor. One of the MPs was trying to give Mom the stare down. That makes me immediately go into what in the FR, Schutzhund, K-9 world calls a "defense of handler" position so I can keep an eye on the situation. In this case, my head went behind Mom so I could face the guy while I maintain body contact with Mom. I gave him "The Look". He broke eye contact.

Mom had to fight the urge to laugh when the elevator door closed. She gave me a pat on the head. So I take care of business and we took the elevator back upstairs.

You'd think that they would realize we'd be back. You'd also think that they would stop to think that it isn't a good idea to stand directly in front of the elevator doors since you never know what may be inside.

They were waiting to get in the elevator. The one in front (who wasn't the starer) just about jumped out of his skin. Instant fear. I could smell it. That got my attention. Mom says that those instincts that would have made me a good K-9 are very strong. Not a bad thing since Mom knows how to handle me. I was just confused by fear coming from someone in uniform. I'm one of the good guys. Then again, most of them hold my working "cousins" in awe; maybe that was part of it as well.

Thursday, april 17

We went out to play. I got to meet a couple of little girls. That was fun. I was also in a silly mood. My old owner/trainer allowed me to get away with what Mom calls a "Body check". It isn't so great when I do it to Mom 'cuz of her bad left knee. I also yanked her a bit trying to get my kong from Dad. That got me a time out.

Scooter played at going after my kong when Dad would throw it. Mom kept expecting him to go pee on it or something. Dad kept hoping he'd try to bring it back. While Scooter will retrieve small items for Mom, he has no desire to grab my kong since it has girly spit cooties.

I did a lot of running.

Friday, April 18

Maybe too much running. I started limping a bit. Mom noticed it when she took me out for the final time tonight. She got me back inside and turned on enough lights for someone performing surgery so she could give it the once over. My Pinky toe on my right foot is sore. Dad doesn't recall stepping on it and neither does Mom.

So, while Dad is starting to run again, I have to take a rest.

I'm off to bed. Mom informed me that my "room" is about to get smaller. Our Household goods shipment is going to be delivered soon. Maybe I can convince her to let me sleep on the spare bed.

Play Time and Drills

Friday, April 11

I got some "down time". We have to carefully plan my visible down time since some people around here don't understand anything about what a Serice Dog (or SDIT) is or does. Mom also tries to schedule it so that we don't have to deal with the children. They can sometimes swarm like a hive of bees on a great clover patch.

I decided to live up to my nickname of "The Brat". Mom wasn't feeling well and I didn't want to listen to Dad. So instead of playing with my precious kong on a rope, I got to do drills. Lots and lots of drills. Mom told Dad that I may need them daily for a bit. I've been trying Dad a lot lately. Mom hasn't decided if it is a "breed" thing that was previously reinforced by my training or if it is just me expressing what I think my place in the pack is. I don't do this to Mom.

I did finally get in about 10 minutes of fetch.

Saturday April 12

We went back. Mom started with drills. I decided I didn't want to listen to her so I never did get to play with my kong. Mom even had Dad turn Scooter loose and he was doing fly-bys on me. No fair. She expected me to hold my down stay while my little brother runs by and tries to bite me on the butt. Then I had to heel while he ran by and tried to hamstring me.

Reminder to self: Trying Mom when playtime with my kong is on the line isn't smart.

Monday 4/14

We went again. This time we went before it got dark. There were kids practicing on the ball field so Mom made me practice drills before I was allowed to just go for it. I accidentally nipped Mom on the thumb when I grabbed for my kong. Mom has no illusions about stuff like that. She knows that when you amp up a high drive dog, it is just a question of when not if. She corrected me and put me in a time out. Those are down/stays where she puts the kong just out of reach. I have to leave it alone.

We also did some listening exercises since Mom thinks that they help with mental stimulation. The big one is me listening for her to release me to go get my kong. Various words can sound a lot like my release word. I had one false start, which I made it three feet, heard her "AHHHT" and immediately went back to sit at her side. She's trying to get me to stop anticipating commands.

I hope she'll decide to take me back to base again soon. Maybe on afternoon we can catch the bus to meet Dad and either catch the bus home or walk.

Waiting game

Tuesday, April 9th

Mom called. They are in the middle of an inspection. The guy took down her info and will call her back. He said he had spoken with the guy we met at the PX.

I am soo excited. I want to go play with the big dogs.

Spotlight on me

Sunday, April 6 2008

It was my turn to shine and I didn't disappoint. Mom had picked up some plants last night and needed pots and soil. She thought that we (she and I) could take the bike trailer/jogger stroller and walk to base. Dad had to study, so he would be home to keep Scooter company or at least keep the little beast from screaming his head off for Mom leaving.

I've watched her go through the "dressing" ritual with Scooter basically daily. It seemed a bit surreal being my turn to be brushed out, leather ID collar just right, and finally dressed in my pack with my collar and lead. Off we went. Out the side gate and up what she calls "Luger's Paradise". In her excitement, she forgot about the three flights of stairs. That would have been a pain since the stroller weighs @25# OOOPS. We took a detour. Right before the steps, there is a road/alley that goes off towards the left. That was the same general direction we needed to go anyway. Mom wasn't sure if we'd come out on Itaweon street or come out on the 8 lane that runs up one side of the base.

We ended up snaking through the Muslim district and past the mosque before getting back to Itaewon street. Mom had to politely ask a police officer to not pet me (until she could command me to visit). It's a darn good thing I'm such a good girl and that I love military and police uniforms. She had to stop one of the riot officers too.

Once we got on base, we had a SUV load of MPs do a slow drive by and then stop to look at me. At first they thought I was one of the military dogs.

It is funny. Mom figured she wouldn't get bothered as much when she started working me. People tend to look at Scooter and want to pick him up and love on him. She's noticed most of the military people will say that they want to love on him, but they keep their hands to themselves. For some reason, they have a harder time when it comes to me (and the civilians on the street tend to avoid me). Mom guesses it is just going to be one of those trade-offs.

Mom locked the trailer to the cart return since we couldn't find a bike rack, and I got my first trip into the PX. We were checking out when the guy behind us starts asking Mom all sorts of questions about me. Questions that only someone with Malinois experience would ask. Turns out, he's one of the Dog Boys. They talked shop for a good thirty minutes while I sat there. I checked out the sights. He was impressed with how calm I was with all the kids running around and the noise. He's going to see about getting us some time on their obstacle course. Plus, the noise from the kenneled dogs will be a good distraction for me.

We also met the Hannam Village Mayor. She came over and introduced herself since she saw me in vest. Seems her in-box has been overwhelmed and her phone ringing off the hook since we moved in. She apologized for how petty some of the people have been, saying it made her realize how ignorant some of the neighbors had been. She said when it first hit, she went and asked for guidance (so she could give an appropriate response) and has given everyone links to the ADA and the Fair Housing Act as well as stating that not all disabilities are visible. Mom thanked her and told her that she had thought about sending a flyer to the housing e-mail list that would answer some general questions.

Since we had taken the scenic route, Mom really needed some lunch so I got my first trip to the food court. Mom isn't sure if my former trainer had taken me into a restaurant before. OMD!! Soo many smells. Mom made me watch her until we got seated. I went under the table and sat. Mom can see how that is a potential problem. I don't curl up; I tend to lay stretched out. It is a breed thing. Mom was more than happy with me just sitting there. I didn't stick my nose out, nor did I sniff anything or anyone.

Lunch done, we walked into the 4 Seasons. That is the PX building where they keep pet supplies, toys, sporting goods, bikes, tools, and gardening stuff. They were out of the pots that Mom wanted. So she got one that would work and got her soil.

Purchases paid for, we started the long walk back home. We went past Luger's Paradise and took the alley so we would come out at the front gate. I did soo well. I saw a kitty and I didn't try to eat it or to go after it. I did watch it very intently. You can't trust those things. I also left the "flying rats" alone. I don't get it; Mom lets me eat chicken and Cornish hen; why can't I eat a flying rat?

I also had several ankle biters growl, snap, and lunge at me. I left them alone. Mom is convinced one is the same little butt-head peke that growled and lunged at Scooter yesterday.

Mom's good knee popped and locked after a really steep section of incline, so she called Dad to come help us. He took the stroller and I concentrated on helping Mom, especially over pavement changes and onto the sidewalk from the alley. I also helped her with the section of steps going into the building (walk up 4 steps with help or walk 25 yards around and back to use the ramp; either way her knee was blown up like a balloon).

Scooter was mad at Mom for not taking him. I think he was a little mad at me for doing well. He was soo happy to see Mom. I took a short nap before supper. It had been hot out and while Mom made sure I stayed hydrated, it was still tiring. I'm looking forward to our next adventure and I really hope Mom calls about getting me onto the obstacle course soon.

I think Mom was most proud at the way I handled walking beside her with the cart in front of us. She's also proud because Itaewon Street on a Saturday afternoon is like walking down Park Avenue (or wherever there is tons of stores) in NYC on Black Friday morning. Wall to wall people.