Waltzing with Elsa

I have met many extraordinary dogs and people through my canine connections, but Elsa and Monica stand out in the field.

Elsa is a roughly four year old golden mixed breed female of extraordinary intelligence. Her now human "mother" Elsa (for the past 3 1/2 years), is an accomplished artist and extraordinary woman whose commitment to her dog is at once inspiring, and remarkable.

I was brought into their collective lives little over a month ago. Monica is committed to working with Elsa to broaden her socialization skills. Elsa came to Monica a stray with little human exposure. Elsa was literally crippled by her fear and territorial behavior. Elsa has made tremendous progress under Monica's steady gaze, yet she still remains fearful of many people, places, and things. Elsa finds dogs to be far less of a concern than humans. As creatures of all kinds span the spectrum of shyness, Elsa is an extraordinarily wary dog. Monica has taken her to obedience classes, doggie day care, and seen her dog take baby steps to achieve a high degree of obedience and dog socialization. Yet, socialization with human's other than Monica is still her biggest hurdle.

Up until our initial meeting, Elsa had only permitted Monica to walk her. Our goal was to simply expose Elsa to me, to see if she would walk with me, and perhaps join me in my car. There was to be no pressure, but rather ample opportunity for Elsa to explore new worlds new relationships.

And so we began quite slowly, The three of us walked together down a long paved trail along El Dorado's extensive trail system. Elsa, was wary but did not bark, as she usually had done with strangers prior. I intentionally avoided eye contact, did not enter her space until she had indicated I was welcome through her movement, and waited for her to approach me, sniff me, etc.

By the close of the walk, Monica had cleverly handed me Elsa's leash, an we clicked and treated to a series of basic commands, walk, sit, back, down. Elsa had clearly warmed to me. We made plans to reconnect the following week walking together again.

Elsa was enthusiastic to see me the second time. After a few minutes we thought we would see how Elsa would respond to my handling her without Monica present. It was understood that if she shut down, she would not be forced to do anything except to be. Positive training methods only, Absolutely no forcing!

Monica left in her vehicle. Elsa's body registered fear and resistance. When I attempted to walk her she simply parked herself down on the ground. I refer to this as our "Helen Keller" moment. The moment where Helen Keller and her new teacher left to their own devices explored water through sensation..........Helen triumphantly repeating "WAWA" when the connection was made.

I was hoping for a similar "miracle". Elsa and I stayed in the parking lot's pathway for several minutes, I gazed at her tense loins. I let her be, soothing her vocally and letting her rest. I awaited the release of visible tension. As the clock ticked on, Elsa walked over to me and rested on the ground by my side. I asked her to touch my hand. With each touch of her nose to my palm, I clicked and treated, clicked and treated. Before long Elsa's body and countenance registered a higher level of ease. I considered inviting her to try walking with me again.

I realized Elsa had seen Monica's vehicle go in one direction, and I had indicated that we walk in another. Perhaps, I should invite her to walk in the direction the vehicle had gone? It was a good thought and more importantly it worked. Elsa joined me in the new direction. Her body indicated she wanted to walk, but that she was shaken by her mother's disappearance. As we gained ground her body loosened somewhat, her tail was tucked between her legs, but it shifted over the 20 minutes we walked. The exercise process proved powerful in its healing properties, however I was still walking alongside a cautious canine who although responded to my clicker training and commands and cues, was less than exuberant. I called Monica on her phone, feeling her progress was significant and that we should not overdo it for one day.

Our third meeting was extraordinary. We met in a new location near the center of town. Monica arrived with fresh homemade treats of the highest calibre, organic chicken and beef in plastic bags. Monica had reiterated that I should not feel pressured, to take my time and to call her on her cell should I need to.

Off Monica drove. I saw Elsa's body reflect her departure in by the tensing of her muscles. I used my high pitched voice to provide an enthusiastic distraction from Monica's departure. I invited Elsa to walk on and click and treat and click and treat. Elsa accepted my invitation to walk in the direction of the Monica's departure. Her tale was tucked, her head was down. She rejected my treats but she continued to walk. Within minutes she was lapping up treats and responding to my cues with greater success. Withing 20 minutes she was walking with enthusiasm. Fifty five minutes later, Elsa was trotting joyfully by my side, heeling, sitting, lying down, and staying perfectly each time she was asked. As we rounded the final corner I noticed her nose rise high and move from left to right. She was smelling Monica from afar. Her tail moved like a metronome set for a fast waltz----- and we waltzed forward straight to Monica's smiling visage.

I was glad for an opportunity to break in on the dance between Monica and Elsa one more time.

Family for a Day

It must have been our destiny. "Scottie"* and I met just two hours after I heard about him from a neighbor. The word on Scottie was that he was not adjusting well to the " stray -dog- facility" life. He had lost weight and was loosing hair. The staff had determined that placing Scottie in a foster care situation would be in his best interest as soon as possible. Another volunteer approached me just as I was readying to leave the facility and asked me If I had met Scottie. I said I had not.

We walked to his den. Scottie's kind eyes expressed worry. His fur was actively shedding. He jumped up to greet us as if to say, take me home, just take me home.

"Only for one night" I exclaimed mentally. " I have two dogs at home and a busy schedule with a husband who had not yet been consulted." I conveyed to Scottie's eyes. Before I knew it, I was loading Scottie into my car with the help of another volunteer. A strong young man, who lifted Scottie, all 70 some odd pounds of him, into the back of my Subaru.

We drove home. I wondered how my 15 year old Dakota, and 2 year old Gabriel (both Great Pyrenees) would welcome a new dog into "their home".

Scottie followed me up the steps from the garage eagerly yet gingerly. It appeared that stairs were new to him, here in the land of one-story adobe houses.

We walked through the laundry room and out into the kitchen and den where Dakota and Gabriel were resting on their ergonomically correct bed cushions. Dakota raised her head from a resting position on the cushion to a sphinx pose, still and steady, her gaze set on the hound colored pup. I wondered if she saw the look of eagerness on his young sweet face. Her nose shifted subtly to adjust her nasal radar read. Gabriel was already in motion toward Scottie, leaning forward on a mission of scent and scrutiny.

Gabriel leaned his large white snout under Scottie's belly while Scottie stood erect with tail raised, a position of submission and patience. It was a canine equivalent of a homeland security station. Gabriel looked up at me as if to suggest that Scottie has passed the muster-- and shuffled towards me, as only Great Pyrenees can, for an appreciative pat and cuddle.

"Yes, I still love you, and yes you are still a top dog in my life" my hands tried to communicate. Gabriel took in all in and settled by my feet as if to guard me from this "interloper" We settled by the fire, and rested and communicated through glances and movement.

Time passed. The sun was surrendering to the peaks of the not so distant Sangre De Christo mountain range exploding out my kitchen window. The Change of cloud colors was imminent, the day was drawing to a close. I felt a group walk would do us all good. Scottie needed to reduce his pent up tension from his unfamiliar surroundings. I am a fervent believer that human and hound alike benefit from exercise to reduce stress and improve overall behavior.

We headed to the largest of Santa Fe's dog parks. There were no other dogs in site. My two descended from their rear perch of my Subaru. I lead Scottie from his back seat position and we all marched to the entrance. I undid all leashes and watched the swirl of air and fur and frozen sand. The three marched forward, noses seriously to the ground to pick up the latest canine news..................Gabriel took the lead, Scottie trotted close behind, with Dakota in third place. As we circled the twenty five minute perimeter I saw Scottie's body language transform. The tension was melting, the stride was loosening, the tail was raising. His body was settling in to stride, to smell, to the joy of movement and of life.

We climbed into the car, more of a crew than before. Gabriel had given up on scolding Scottie from the back seat. Scottie had climbed into the back seat without any coaxing, and Dakota the sage of the scene took note of all the antics of us younger folk. A short drive home, water was lapped up, cushions under torsos, I prepared dinner for us all. I placed some doggie "relaxation music" that helps to reduce stress and heart rates among dogs.

Scottie followed my every move with his eyes, occasionally arising from his cushion on the floor to follow me at the kitchen counter cooking, cleaning, putting the dishes to sleep for the night.

Then the hush of night took us all to our nightly sleeping session. There were no dog growls or barks to interrupt the night and so in the morning, I found all dogs happy and recharged and ready for another trip around the park.

We were well seasoned trippers by now. Scottie, traveled more closely with Gabriel. Dakota took up her position as Caboose on the dog train. Scottie ran to my side for a nibble and a pat and off he ran more at ease than the day previous.

As I headed out to a day of training and exercising dogs, I drove Scottie back to the adoption facility. A rosy cheeked staff member thanked me for my assistance in keeping Scout overnight. She happily shared the news that Scottie had found a foster home. I rubbed Scottie and we looked deep into one another's eyes, both transformed for the better in the time we had shared. (*changed name to maintain privacy)

Eudora

I volunteer weekly at a local animal shelter. This typically means that I arrive at the facility, don a protective apron, fill the pockets with a broad spectrum of dog treats, pick out a leash and head to the information board indicating who has been walked and who has not. I invariably pick those that are older, larger, potentially unruly, and less attractive as these are the ones I suspect will be the last on handlers' lists.

For two weeks I walked Eudora.* She has a dull golden coat with a hint of red. Her eyes were intent and soulful, but less bright and older. There was a hint of fear. She was not a beauty by standard measure, but her spirit, her soul, that indefinable essence.... shown through creating more beauty than one could measure.

I took a cursory look at her information sheet posted on her pen and connected Eudora to a leash and we headed outside to to the facilities dog park. Eudora galloped out into the vast expanse and returned to my side with such joi de vivre. I gave her two warm strokes, under her chin and a much coveted treat. Her body smiled through movement and she was off for another exuberant ark across the weeds and the frozen desert. Our twenty minutes through measured time and space was a bonding of woman and canine, of twin souls on a lark of high desert air and sunshine and sounds.

As we reached the end of the path, Eudora rejoined me running up to my left side. She was already well schooled as to my expectations of her. I applied her leash and we headed back "room" at the shelter. Once back, I reviewed her file more closely. Eudora was eight years old and had been turned in by her owner. I was surprised by her age, more shocked than surprised that she had been dumped at the shelter by her owner. This was an exceptionally well mannered dog, affectionate, and intelligent. I felt my heart ache and my eyes brim with saline tears. It was a release of surprise and deep sadness. How or why could anyone have cast this dog aside?

The following week I returned. Eudora was there again and she had not yet been walked. We were seasoned travelers now. Our knowing glances communicated our desire to move and be together. The snow had laid a covering over our old path. Adora bounded like a puppy along the white powdered path, sat and stayed with my treats as a suggestion, and then once released --bounded across the horizon, her body full of life and appreciation for this bit of freedom. i gazed out across the vista of purple hills with white dressing-- the crispness of the New Mexico sky fashionably spectacular.

Eudora and I finished our promenade in her little "room" with some treats and some body rubs. My eyes had brimmed again.

The third week when I returned to the shelter , she was gone. I assumed she had been taken home by some insightful dog lover, with whom she would presumably bound and romp and love beyond the shelters signposts.....and I smiled. (*name changed for reasons of privacy)