Be knowledgeable about the effects of vaccines on our pets

http://www.dogsadversereactions.com/scienceVaccineDamage.html

The Dog Looked At Me

November 9, 1999

The dog looked at me.

I’m out of here,” she seemed to say.

Turning on her tail, she glided

Purposely and quickly to the other room.

Not a backward look.

Not a sound.

Just gone.

I stood there with the nail clipper in my hand.

Should I get her or let it go?

Let it go.

They’ll be there tomorrow.

What’s In a Diet? Chelsea the Half Sighted Shi’tzu

Chelsea May 1988 – December 2007

[This article was written in 2002]

Chelsea is a 14-year-old Shi’tzu. She came to us when she was five months old, and within a week, our Lhasa Apso had bit her and partially detached her eye. The vet was able to re-attach the eye, but unfortunately, Chelsea never regained the sight in that eye.

Chelsea had a lot of health problems for such a small dog. In addition to the eye, she had a hernia that had to be fixed when she was two. Then, when she was six years old, she developed a structural problem that was never identified. Up until then, she had been an exuberant girl who loved to jump, on our laps, on the furniture, on chairs, you name it, no matter how high it was, Chelsea would jump on it.

When she was six, the structural problem became so severe that she literally screamed when she tried to move faster than a very show walk. And the jumping was over for good. She spent most of her life for the next six months confined to a very small bathroom which we could gate so she could see all that we were doing.

We took her to specialists who ran all kinds of tests, one even kept her with him and his wife for a weekend, sure that she would share her pain if she could become so familiar with them that she would trust him enough. Finally, our general practitioner vet suggested using Cosequin. She said that she had used it on another dog and it seemed to be working. She said we had nothing to lose.

So we put Chelsea on Cosequin, and within two months, the pain disappeared. Within, two years, she was able to jump again. Not the excited popping up and down of her youth, but a good strong jump up on a chair in the office.

When Chelsea was seven, we brought home an Airedale puppy. The vet was worried that the Airedale would be too rough for her, but not to worry: Chelsea had a no-funny-business growl, and the puppy kept its distance (except when Chelsea was urinating, and the puppy would swoop in and dive at her tail, the neatest toy in the house).

By the time Chelsea was nine years old, we had two Airedales and a litter on the way. After years of trying one dog food after another with dismal results (the dogs would not eat them after the first few weeks), we switched all the dogs to the raw diet.

The Airedales were quite reserved about accepting the new diet, but not Chelsea. Chelsea dived into her first meal, looking over her shoulder at me with a look that said “Now, that I am at the end of my life, you bring out the real food? Where has this been all of my life?” And she thrived.

Three months after starting the raw diet, we were able to take her totally off of the Cosequin, and we never had any screaming from pain again. Jumping? She could jump on the chair in the office, on the couch, even on the bed. She had more energy than she had had for the past three years.

When she was 11, she developed glaucoma in her blind eye. We worried about the recommendation of surgery to remove the eye, but the vet said that they had done her blood work and had never seen an 11 –year-old dog with such excellent blood values. So she had the surgery, and recovered quickly, becoming even more energetic. She never worried about moving around beneath all those Airedale feet because her growl kept them from stepping on her no matter how excited they were. It became her job to teach the puppies in each litter that her tail was not a toy, that she was worthy of the respect owed to a matron, and more.

Then, when she was 13 years old, she fell in love—with Jennifer, our housesitter’s daughter. The feeling was mutual, and with our blessing, Chelsea went to live with Jennifer, and has become the grand dame of a household with several large dogs, several cats, and other animals. Her favorite is a kitten that she has adopted.

Changing Places to Change a Behavior

Handling a show dog, training an obedience dog, or running a dog in agility takes lots of practice, good teachers, and lots of experience. Performance sports require a willingness to make mistakes and to learn from those mistakes. They also provide valuable lessons for all of us involved in training our dogs.

All training for these activities depends on how clearly the handler perceives what they want the dog to do. Sometimes, dogs and trainers seem to be going in different directions, and no matter what the trainer does, the dog does not respond. Sometimes, in order to resolve these problems, we need to change what we are doing and where we do it. We do not necessarily have to find the underlying belief that is interfering with the outcome we want, but we do have to find a way to strengthen the picture of what we want.

A Personal Experience

Last year, my show dog, Dilys, suddenly decided that no one, except me, was going to touch her in the show ring. This meant that the judges could not go over her. She did not act aggressively; she just could not be touched. Figuring out what was going on, since I mentally pictured her standing perfectly still and letting the judges examine her, required that I go back in my own life and find out what was sabotaging that picture in my mind. Then, armed with that knowledge, I discovered that changing venues helped me reinforce the picture of the outcome that I wanted.

When I pondered what was happening in the ring, I thought about my mother breeding and showing Boxers when I was a child. My memories of her work and going to shows with her were happy ones: She loved showing her dogs, and whatever happened at a show, win or lose, she came home exhilarated. I loved going to the shows with her, and I liked helping with the puppies. But my father, who had chosen the breed and purchased a bitch with the agreement to show her, to breed her, and to return a puppy, had little use for the show ring, or as he called it, “the beauty ring.” To him, it was nothing more than a beauty pageant: the dogs and owners only had to walk around the ring and stand at attention. “Give me an obedience dog any time,” he used to say. “They have brains.” I realized that his oft repeated statements about conformation had affected my own opinion of showing dogs, leaving me with the belief that it was just about walking a dog around a ring.

I didn’t learn how wrong he was until I was in my 50s and had my first show dog. I look back with embarrassment on my first attempts in the ring: stiff, stilted, no clue of what it took to show off a dog or how to train a dog to do this. Handlers told me there was nothing to it. Mentors told me what to do: keep a loose lead, pull the head up, make sure that the dog is moving correctly, hold the tail up, and keep the dog perfectly stacked. Every time I entered the ring, I felt like “Baby” learning to dance in the movie, Dirty Dancing.

Handling classes were of no help: every Tuesday evening, I took that dog to handling class. No one gave us any instruction. We just lined up, kept moving to the front of the line, stacked our dog, took it down and back, and went around to the end. Every week, I looked desperately around the class: What was I supposed to do? Each week, I picked someone who seemed to know what they were doing and tried to copy them. Even though many of the people in the class were very experienced, I did not have a clue whether I was copying something that would work in the Airedale ring or not. In short, to quote Corally Burmaster, all I was doing in class each week was rearranging my ignorance.

Even though this was supposed to be my hobby and it was supposed to be fun, I ended up sending my first and second show dogs to a professional handler so they could finish their championships.

Years later, with 20 handling workshops under my belt, one owner handled champion to my credit, and a successful handling class, I still did not truly understand what I was doing in the ring. When Dilys suddenly balked at judges going over her, she caught me by surprise. When I showed her again, I expected her to do this: I didn’t want her to do it, but the picture planted in my mind was of her balking and me wondering what I could do to stop her from doing that. She did not let me down: three more judges, wonderful judges who refused to excuse her from the ring, had trouble examining her. Each judge said that excusing her would ruin her, and each counseled me to get her out more frequently during the week. Dilys, however, was a very well socialized dog who loved going out, letting people touch her, and playing with other dogs. I knew that was not the problem.

I knew the problem had to be me. Even though I was teaching other people how to be successful handlers, I was still affected by my father’s words, and that early belief was undermining my visualization of showing successfully in the conformation ring. I had to get over that, and I had to do it with Dilys.

Change Up What You Are Doing

I decided to change up what I was doing. Several of my students had rare breeds and the only conformation venue for them was the United Kennel Club (UKC). They seemed to really enjoy showing their dogs, and they encouraged me to show in their shows. What did I have to lose? I registered Dilys with the UKC and entered her in a show.

For several months I had the only Airedale entered in UKC shows in Texas. At the first UKC show we entered, I discovered that the atmosphere was informal, friendly, and supportive. Other exhibitors and the judges were eager to help, and I felt no pressure to make points. In that atmosphere, I relaxed. When I went into the ring, Dilys stood for exam exactly the way I pictured her standing: rock solid with her ears alert and her tail up. She didn’t even flinch when the judge came up to examine her. At the second of the three shows that weekend, we did so well that we took Terrier Group 1 and then went Reserve Best In Show.

After the fun I had at that UKC show, I decided to try another show venue, the International shows that were scheduled a month after our first UKC show. There were four shows in two days under four different AKC judges, three from the United States, one from Canada. Once again, we were the only Airedale entered and the atmosphere was, if anything, even more relaxed. With no pressure to win, we had a great time, and Dilys came home an International Champion.

At both of these other competitive venues, the focus was on the dog and the breed standard. There was no fussing about grooming. My Airedale was well groomed and conditioned, but instead of spending hours at the show getting her ready for the ring, I kept track of time, and about 10 minutes before we were to go into the ring, I put her on the table and brushed her. Instead of fussing and worrying about whether she was groomed well enough, I spent my time relaxing, meeting people, playing with Dilys, and visualizing what we would do in the ring.

The most significant part of changing up what I had been doing was that I changed. I not only became a more relaxed and confident handler, I had learned that competing in the show ring is fun. I actually looked forward to going into the ring, and regardless of the outcome, Dilys and I both had fun. Win or lose, I praised my dog and I could feel the difference in me.

Our next show was an AKC show. Instead of going to the show early, I got there in time to set up my grooming table, brush my dog, and go in the ring. Instead of being fearful and nervous, I was eager to show my dog to the judge, a well-known terrier expert. My new approach and my new attitude worked: Dilys won the four-point major. We went to three more shows together before she finished her AKC championship. We did not always win, and one weekend, we didn’t even win our class. But from then on, we both had fun in the ring, and that enjoyment showed in our body language and our attitudes.

Success Breeds Success

Using a change of venue gave me the opportunity to work on my handling skills while simultaneously building confidence in myself and my dog. Since this experience, I have used these shows for introducing a new dog to the show ring, and, since both UKC and International shows have classes for three to six month puppies, for introducing puppies to the noise and bustle of show venues.

The UKC ribbons and the International show medallions are impressive, and the dogs seem to understand that they have done something very special when you are given one. When the last judge at that first UKC show handed me our huge best of breed rosette, Dilys grabbed the rosette and pranced out of the ring. This was her rosette, and it was meant to hang on her crate!

By changing places to work on a problem, I had not only banished an undermining belief and strengthened my visualization of our performance, Dilys and I had become an equally invested, competitive team.

Not Now, Thank You!

Recently, on a list that I am on, someone asked what they could say to people who want to pet their fearful dog, a dog that might nip a stranger out of fear.

I am saddened that anyone feels they have to have a good line to keep people away from their dogs. It should go without saying that no one approaches any dog to pet it without asking permission and waiting for owner or handler to give them permission. And all owners, whether the dog is fearful or not, should be able to say to someone who asks to pet their dog or who tries to pet their dog "not now but thank you for asking." You should not need a reason. If someone perseveres just say your dog is feeling out of sorts or has had a stressful day or whatever: you really don't need to explain anything further than "not now, thank you." You should not have to explain why you don't want them to pet your dog or why they shouldn't pet your dog. I am a huge believer that words are things and words can affect outcomes. So just say, not now, thank you.

I teach children about safety around dogs. And I wish more adults would come to my classes.

I teach that no matter how cute or how friendly a dog is, that they should never approach a dog to pet without permission. I teach that dogs are individuals and just like people, they have good days and bad days. I teach that dogs are dogs, and if they are not feeling well, even the nicest one might snap because that is the dog's way of shouting NO!. I teach them to ask permission (but only if the dog is attached to a leash that is attached to a person's hand) to pet the dog. And then, only if they are given permission, should they pet the dog. I also teach them to put their closed hand in front of the dog's nose so the dog can sniff them. Then I teach them not to go for the top of the head (and I show them what a dog will do if they do go for the top of the head by using a stuffed dog and showing them just how far back a dog can move his head in order to smell a hand coming from above); I teach them how to safely pet the dog under the chin. I teach them to do all this without staring at the dog.

I also teach the children some of Turid Rugaas' calming signals, explaining that every dog in the world has a language that every other dog can understand from the time they are new puppies. I teach that dog language is mostly about calming others or keeping others away from them, both other dogs and people. And I teach them to use a few of the signals.

I teach them not to run away from a loose dog. I teach them how to stand still and never stare at a loose dog approaching them (actually I teach them to never stare at any dog because that means you are challenging the dog).. I teach them to get off a bicycle if a dog chases them and do the standing still thing. And I do what I can in the time I have to teach them to read a dog.

It amazes me how many children when I bring my dog into an event will rush forward to pet her. I stop them and have them sit down in their chairs until I ask them to come forward. I also turn tables on them and ask them how they would feel if someone touched without their permission, especially some stranger.

Unfortunately, we as a general population have lost a lot of innate knowledge about dogs. Fewer dogs run free; most dogs have to be leashed or fenced in a yard. So it is less necessary for a child or an adult to have to know how to read a dog's body language and treat a strange dog with respect. People see dogs as cuddly pets and think they should be able to touch any dog they see, leashed or unleashed.

My point is that no one with a fearful dog should have to worry about people approaching her dog because no one should approach any dog without permission. Approaching a dog without permission is not only just plain stupid; it is bad manners in the doggy world as well as in our world. I shop at a yarn shop that has three loose Shelties -- I have never touched any of them. I talk to them quietly and go about my business. Since none of them seek me out, I feel they really are not looking to be petted.

Dogs have that right. We should all help others understand that. And we should never hesitate to say, "not now, thank you."

2010 Airedale Quilts

The 2010 Airedale Quilt is finished, and along with two bonus quilts, the winners will be announced at the annual Montgomery County specialty show on October 10. To see the quilts, please go to http://www.airedalerescue.net/alphabet/a_is_for_airedale/ -- when you go to this page, click on each square in the big quilt, and you can read about the people who made the blocks and the bonus quilts and all the people who make the quilt project possible.

The illustrations here on the blog are two squares -- the D and the P -- from A Is For Airedale, the main quilt this year, and a section of the bonus quilt made by Airedale friends in Australia.

Contemplation on Visioning

For the last visioning class at CSL Dallas, I was supposed to find a symbol of what visioning means to me. Something that I had right in my own home. I was curious as to what that might look like as I kept my eyes, my mind, my self open to finding that symbol. This picture of Kate opening up to Neisha and learning from Neisha is my symbol of how visioning opens us up to what Spirit can teach us and how Spirit can lead us.

I think that symbol was right here in side of me, just as the dogs have taught me that my success training them is always right within me.

I could write reams about the changes visioning has made for me; I could talk forever about love, and studies, and meditating, and mindfulness, and then start all over again with love, peace, joy, friendship, and healing the past. But when you come right down to it, it is all about opening up and learning more about who you are and what you can do just as Kate opened up to all of us and learned from Neisha and all of us.

An incredible healing of the past is probably the biggest thing that opened to me as a result of visioning. A renewal of lost love; a new relationship where an old one had died. An opening up to all that I can be. A knowing the spiritual truth of the situation and letting that truth come into my life as a spiritual partnership. Things come and go, go and come, and nothing is ever totally new or unforeseen. Nothing is ever over or ever the same again. Life ebbs and flows, life twists and turns, flowing like a slow river, holding us safe, bringing out the meaning, reminding us of who we are. And visioning enables us to see the holy in life, to have the holy play a role in our decisions and plans and in our reviews of our past.

Yes, visioning is going to Spirit or God or whatever you call the universal creative force. It is not about asking for guidance; it is not about pursuing a theme of our own thinking; no, it is none of these things and yet it encompasses all of these. When we vision, we invite Spirit to talk to us, to give us hints of our being, to indicate new ways of being whole, and new adventures to pursue. When we vision, we listen but don't talk. We listen to the silence within us, and we hear Spirit silently without emotion but with great empathy show us about outpicturing fully and completely.

Visioning is my partner in spirituality. I pray; I meditate; I do treatments for myself and others; I live in the moment; I am continually growing spiritually, continually opening up to life, to being here now and forever past and present and future. I blend with the stream that is spirit; I roll with the waves on my spiritual water ways. I look for nothing and find everything. I am silent and let spirit make the noise. In life, I am a spiritual being having a human experience. In visioning, I am a spiritual being have a spiritual experience, learning more about who I am, what I am, where I am, and how I am.

It is all good, and it is very silent. Very warm, enfolding, unfolding, peaceful, loving, abundant, healthy, strong, and more words than I can bring together in one place at one time.

But Spirit is not about words. Spirit is silent and I listen with my inner ears, my inner self, my own inner part of spirit for messages that help me make my way along with my own spiritual path, a path that is deep within spirit and which I can find only within myself, listening to spirit, harvesting words, pictures, sounds, smells, feelings, tastes, all the things that make me human; all the things that make me mammalian, knowing that all comes from Source and all is deeply spiritual.

I walk in spirit; I think in spirit; I sit in spirit. there is nothing I can do to be separated from spirit. Just as there is no place where God is not, with visioning, there is no place where I am ever alone, no need to find my own way, no need to feel lost or abandoned. No one can ever be lost except in their own mind when they think their connection has weakened and faded. Can we do that? We can certainly feel as though that has happened when we let go of our connection, ignore the inner voice that gives us plentiful directions and suggestions; refuse to listen, refuse to hear what we know we are hearing.

We are but part of Spirit. We are Spirit trying out new things in a new life; We are Spirit trying out a new piece of clothing. we are Spirit trying out a new way of thinging and a new way of being human. We are Spirit being Spirit and having fun being Spirit. What more could we ask for? We can ask to be aware of what we hear and through visioning, we can do that and we can learn whatever we need to know for the next step and the next to infinity. If we give Spirit our attention in this happening, we can learn and experience Spirit's universal life.


To learn more about visioning: see Michael Beckwith: Lifevisioning (DVD set)which is available on Amazon and see The Visioning Tool Kit by Rai Jordan, RScP : you learn more about this kit at http://www.highervisioncenter.org/index.html