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Feb 18

Guest Post: A Love Letter to Ximmy

In celebration of Valentine’s Day, I asked readers to write a love letter to their DINOS and picked a winning essay.  Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing all of the entries.

Here’s what Lynsie wrote:

 

My dearest Ximmy,

You are my challenge, my anxiety, and my stress.  You are also my baby, my best friend, and a bed hog.

I am sorry that you have your “issues”, as we call them, but I am never sorry that you are mine.

Think about it baby girl, you stress in the car, but you go to training class every Wednesday night!

You have anxiety over crowded places, but you have gotten your Rally Novice title and are working on your Rally Advanced title.

Some would term you a “bad dog”, and a few have told me you should not go out in public, and on those really bad days, I am sorry to say, I have felt the same.  But then you look at me with those big brown eyes, wag your tail, and lean on me, and my heart feels lighter, and I know that those people don’t see the real you, but I do, and I will never give you up.

You are my light.

Love,

Mom

 

Feb 17

1 Comment

Guest Post: An Interview with Treo

In celebration of Valentine’s Day, I asked readers to write a love letter to their DINOS and picked a winning essay.  Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing all of the entries.

Here’s what Melissa wrote:

Treo, DINOS is holding a contest where we can write a valentine’s letter to our DINOS dog – how about I interview instead?

Treo looks off into space as if he were taking a long drag from a cigarette, and with a sigh, he says, “yeah, sure.”

Being a DINOS, any advice to those struggling?

“First of all, it’s not a label, more like a journey of self-discovery.  I will have good days, surprising days, and not so good days.  It is what it is, I own it, I’ll be the first to say, ‘I’m a dog in need of space – deal with it!'”

On that self-discovery, Treo, we’ve never allowed being a DINOS to interfere with competing in Agility, Flyball or Rally-O, what’s kept you in there?

“Yeah, you and I have spent a lot of time investing in these sports.  You aren’t exactly easy to train, I couldn’t see giving up on you after all this time.  Anyway, together we are awesome.  Can’t imagine giving it all up just because other’s make me nervous.”

What a coincidence, I feel the same way.  Except, I thought you were pretty easy to train, a-hem.  Ok, next question.  Your words, “other’s make me nervous.”  Could you expand on that?

“Sure.  I have a big bubble.  I do like other dogs, it’s a big stereotype to think that I don’t.  I mean, I live with 3 other dogs, 3 cats and an occasional foster dog.  I can co-hab with other dogs.  I caught a baby bunny and gently put it in your hand.  I like other living creatures.  BUT, sometimes I get a bad vibe, and sometimes I’m not in the mood to meet someone new.  Anyway, they give me a look when we’re passing by, or they get in my space and it makes me edgy.  I use my warning signs, and if they back off, we’re good.  If they don’t, what am I supposed to do?  I don’t have time for that crap.  Long story short, you keep me safe, and I can tell you do your best.  That’s why I tend now to look to you for info when other dogs are around.  Thanks for that.  I feel safer.”

You’re welcome.  I don’t like you to feel threatened. I like others to see you as I see you.  99% of the time you are happy-go-lucky, playing games, running, having a great time together.

What about your Dr. Jeckyl/Mr. Hyde routine with people?  What’s that all about?

“Look, I get mis-cues all the time.  Strangers look at me in the eyes, or get their face too close to my face, or are too loud and it freaks me out.  Big time.  Do these people even know how to greet a dog?  What the heck happened to the put you handout and let me smell you before you go right in for the pet or snuggle?  I mean, who does that?!  Do you meet people and get up in their grill?”

Well, no.  That’d be rude.

“Exactly!  Rude.  So, people seemed to have forgotten how to greet a dog.  And because of that, I like the new game we play where I ‘pretend’ to greet them, but you have cookies, and they like hold their hand out and I like pretend sniff it and you give me a cookie.  Then you flood me with cookies and they are petting me and I don’t even know it because you are shoving cookies in my face.  I like that.  I just stare at you and forget that they are even there.  Suckers.”

 

Ok, good.  Glad you like that.  What advice do you have for other guardians who have DINOS like you?

“My first thought is how lucky they are.  I mean, I am a one woman Man.  That’s it.  Primo!  Only one for me. They have to come to the realization that I don’t have to be THAT kind of dog who loves everyone.  I’m extra-specially made just for you!  Also, think of how much we learn together.  If I was a cookie cutter dog, who loves everyone…how boring?! How cliché!  Every victory we have, every step ahead, it will be because we’ve invested in each other.  We’ve tried, and we’ve overcome.  You and I.  Now and forever.”

Treo then hopped off the couch, grabbed is ball from the floor and pushed it into my lap. Tennis balls heal all.  Never forget that.

Want more Treo? Check out Melissa’s blog Red Dogs Rule!

Feb 16

4 Comments

Guest Post: A Love Letter to Boo Radley

In celebration of Valentine’s Day, I asked readers to write a love letter to their DINOS and picked a winning essay.  Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing all of the entries.

Here’s what Lauren wrote:

Dear Boo Radley,

Because of you and what you need to succeed, I’ve learned patience, humor, consistency, and most importantly, how to advocate for me and for you.

I know your reactivity is because you’re scared. I know we’ve had some scary run-ins in the past with off-leash dogs, and I know that people think it’s always your fault because of your big blocky head and bulgy muscles and cute little bowed legs. I’d be scared too if every time I went outside I felt that I was at a disadvantage because of how I looked. But that’s why you have me – I’m your voice, your advocate, your buddy, and your guardian.

All I ask is that you trust me when I ask you to do things like “look,” “leave it,” or “turn.” I will protect you. I’ve seen you progress so much in the last three years, and I’m so proud of the relationship we’ve built. I know that one day we’ll go for a hike and you’ll just sail past all the other dogs with your tail waggin’ and a big goofy smile on your two-tone face. You’ll make it look easy. 

So, my little DINOS, you’re a gem. A rocky, dirty little diamond of a puppy dropped off on the streets of Oakland only to come to our house, where we shined you up, snuggled you, taught you games and puzzles, and recognized you for the funny, silly, smart, energetic, and bright spirit you are. You bring so much happiness and humor into my life, and I love you very much.  You’re the best, little man.

Love,

Mama

Feb 16

1 Comment

Guest Post: A Love Letter to Frankie and Pere

In celebration of Valentine’s Day, I asked readers to write a love letter to their DINOS and picked a winning essay.  Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing all of the entries.

Here’s what Kat wrote:

 

My Dearest Frankie & Pere,

 I suffer from Fibromyalgia and PTSD, making me a PINOS (Person in Need of Space).  Thank you for making last year’s 6 week camping tour of Texas, Mississippi, Georgia, Louisiana, Florida and North Carolina a wonderful success.  I would not have been able to go without you both.  You are wonderful diplomats for DINOS and PINOS.  You help me to know who are safe people to meet and chat with in the campgrounds.  I was able to go out hiking and beach walking with you both.  Something I never could have done on my own. 

 

 

Pere, thank you for taking me to the top of Fort Pickens to see the Gulf of Mexico and the butterflies migrating.  Your youthful energy and exploratory nature are appreciated.  Frankie, thank you for helping me find the best photography spots.  You have the patience of a Saint.  We saw so many beautiful places, plants and animals on this trip.  I wanted you to know camping season is almost here and I am looking forward to the new places you will take me.  Start counting boys – T minus 30 days til Camping season begins.

All My Love,

 Kat

 

 

Feb 15

1 Comment

Guest Post: A Love Letter to Skye

In celebration of Valentine’s Day, I asked readers to write a love letter to their DINOS and picked a winning essay.  Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing all of the entries.

Here’s what Abby wrote:

 

The Skye’s the Limit: A Love Story about my DINOS

August 2006 our journey began. I was 15 years old and we were driving to Ohio to pick up my very own puppy. He was my life long dream. I had been saving for a Border Collie of my very own. I had huge plans for us. We would compete in agility, he would be a therapy dog, he would know tons of tricks, he would wow everyone he met.

He was an awesome puppy. He never destroyed a thing and got along GREAT with our Golden. He loved our cat (who didn’t always love him back). He loved all the kids we babysat at the time. Tennis Balls are his all time favorite toy of choice.

Then he started puppy classes. That’s where things got tricky. He would go after the other puppies if they tried to play with him. He didn’t like everything going on. It was still very manageable though. He even pretty much grew out of it for a while. He went to work with me at the kennel, around other dogs and everything.

When he was around a year old we moved. That’s when my dreams got shattered. We started classes for agility. The first night I left in tears. While he did the agility part well. He bit my hands so many times that one night. from reacting to other dogs, I was ready to not go back.

.

We did though. We switched classes and were blessed with an AMAZING trainer who never ever gave up on us. We worked for almost a year. Slowly we saw him be able to handle being around other dogs. Not without MANY tears from me though. As a 16 year old at the time, people say I handled it with greater poise than most adults would.  However, I had my days when I felt like giving up. I had people constantly telling me to give up and let him go. Nothing would ever change, he will never compete, he will never be able to see another dog.

Skye is almost 6 now. He now has 6 agility titles and working on more. Last year he completed his CGC evaluation with FLYING colors. He is commonly mistaken for a service dog when taken out he is so well-behaved. We even added another dog to the house with few problems.  It was a long road, but we made it.

He amazes me everyday. He is the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I can sleep at night. He never lets anything get him down.

We still have our moments but we make it through. People say I am the reason we are able to be the team that we are now. But it’s not me, it’s him. I couldn’t have done it without his undying love for me or his willingness to keep trying. Whether we are on the agility field making people say “wow, what a team” or just walking on the street he is everything to me.

So if you are out there and think there is no hope for you to do anything,  just keep going.  Believe in what you CAN do. Not what people say you CAN’T.

 Abby and Ammardans Skyes the Limit NA OA AX NAJ NF OF CGC Skye

 

Feb 14

14 Comments

The Winning Essay: A Love Letter to Dutch

In celebration of Valentine’s Day, I asked readers to write a love letter to their DINOS.

Every single one of your essays moved me deeply.  I think you guys will love reading them as much as I did, so over the next two weeks I’ll share all of the essays right here on my blog.

But back to the contest…It was very difficult to choose a winner. You did a wonderful job at capturing the sweet, funny, frustrations of living with DINOS. I read each essay many times, until I realized that one story in particular kept grabbing at my heart.

I kept returning, over and over, to Dutch’s story, written by Rebecca Barocas.

Her essay, chronicling the challenges and the joys of her life with Dutch, captured how DINOS live at the very center of our lives. Their needs demand our attention, protection, and dedication. And so, when they’re gone, the hole they leave in our lives is enormous.  And our hearts are bigger for having let our DINOS live there.

Reading this particular essay reminded me that, while the days and the years go by quickly, our DINOS  remain forever in our hearts.

Here’s the winning entry by Rebecca Barocas.

A Love Letter to My DINOS ~ Dutch

February 5th will be a year since I lost my beloved DINOS Dutch. I think that by the end, she was more of a reformed DINOS, although those early days were very challenging.

I remember those early days – you were fresh from rescue and my gosh you were a handful. You seemed determined to fight all the dogs on the earth, in small groups if need be, with one paw tied behind your back. You were my Warrior Princess: isolated, separate, proud, bold, infuriating.

You dragged me belly down through the mud, flailing like an injured pterodactyl, after some distant dog that annoyed you by its very presence in the same zip code.  I remember all those obedience classes in the park, or as you liked to call them, a target-rich environment. I remember all the times I sat in the car and pounded on the steering wheel in frustration.

You were not a dumb dog. In fact, you were brilliant and sneaky and wicked smart and wicked and someone had taught you the wrong rules and made you “difficult”.

I hope you remember how proud I was of you the day you held a sit-stay as all those other dogs swirled around you. And the day you held a down-stay, when that other dog broke and ran, my heart leapt with joy.  I hope you remember how proud I was the day that you came in second in your first Obedience Match and then when you passed your Canine Good Citizen test.

At the end of that day, as you lay on the grass in the park and the approaching twilight bathed your coat in golden light, you scented the air and looked at me and smiled, and that was it. Despite the mud and the frustration and the tears, right at that moment, I was feeling the joy and the pride – I knew that I had been blessed.

Someone had trusted me with you.

Remember Bo? The neighbor’s dog that visited one night and you weren’t having any part of him in YOUR house? I remember how surprised you were when he didn’t want to fight you and walked away. You looked shocked and I giggled. You were being schooled by a master in the one thing I couldn’t teach you – dog body language.

I still have that video I shot of you and Bo, in that narrow gap between the couch and the coffee table, playing bite-y feet and you’re both smiling.

Then there was the hound pack that invited us for a walk at the leash-optional beach and I got so nervous because we were running late.  You started whining with nervous anticipation because you picked up on exactly how I was feeling –  What if you marked up the show dogs after they were so nice to invite us? And then I realized, in that moment, how much my emotions were rubbing off on you and how, if I wanted you to be a “good” dog, I had to already believe it.

You were a good dog.

I hope you carry with you all those runs on the beach with Francis and China and Floyd and a rotating cast of newcomers and visitors you met. I remember the first time you gave another dog an appropriate correction for putting his feet on your back, and on your own, you didn’t escalate. And the time that little blind dog went after you, because you got too close, and you turned and walked away on your own.

I wept joyful tears.

After your cancer diagnosis, your oncologist said that when the other dogs woke up from their radiation treatment an attendant would walk them up and down the hallway, before returning them to their owners. But even with all those other dogs lying in the hallway, the doctor told me that you got up on your own and walked up and down the hallway all by yourself, until you were ready to go.  You went to the door and waited. And any dog that snarked at you, you just walked away,  so the staff just let you be. They didn’t know about your past, so they didn’t know to be worried. They just knew you were a good dog and a fantastic patient.

I wish you had stayed longer. That we had more time.

The biggest lessons you taught me, my furry angel, were patience and trust. With equal helpings of both, you became a good dog. A really good dog.

My beautiful Dutch. I miss you every day more than words can express.

Rebecca is donating the winning prize, a $50 MrChewy.com gift card, to German Shepherd Rescue of Los Angeles, where she adopted Dutch.

 

You can read all of the Love Letters here. 

 

Feb 8

16 Comments

Foster-Dog-In-Hiding: A DINOS Adoption Story

I’ve spent the last few days reading your touching Valentine’s Day Essay Contest entries and I have to say – you guys have not let me down in the crying and laughing department. Your love letters to your dogs got me thinking about a past foster dog of mine, also a DINOS.  After a few years of being out of touch, I just reconnected with his mom and I thought I’d share his story.

This is Buddie. He was my foster dog. I called him The Skipper back then.

 

When I found him roaming around South Philly he had this collar on. It was zip tied closed and there was a piece of a heavy chain, broken, dangling from the ring. The Skipper had busted loose and into my life.

My landlord didn’t allow dogs, but the Philadelphia shelter system is a tough place for a dog to survive, especially back then, so I just picked him up and drove him home. I filed a “found” report, but with no family stepping forward to claim him, Skip became our foster-dog-in-hiding.

My husband Brian (then boyfriend) and our three cats were not impressed (but not surprised either) by Skip’s arrival. Being a dog walker in Philadelphia meant that I was constantly running into stray dogs and stumbling onto little feral cat colonies. I often brought dogs home for a few hours until I could reunite them with their owners.  And our basement had a secret back room that I used as the Feral Kitten Underground Railroad.

So no one (not even my cats – who started off in that basement room), was shocked that Skip moved in. But they were a little taken aback  when he pooped in our tub that first day, couldn’t be crated, and kept asking to taste the kitties.

My little family sucked it up, so the Skipper could be safe.  Cleaned up and neutered, Skip was pretty awesome and we hoped he’d get scooped up quickly.  But no one came. The ‘Adopt Me’ fliers I posted all over Queen Village showed off his magic ear, but still no callers. Skip remained our foster-dog-in-hiding.  I was terrified that my landlord would discover Skip before I could find him a safe home.

Not long into our time together, I was walking Skip and we bumped into a woman and her dog on the corner. She thought his ear was indeed magic and wanted to know more about him. As we stood talking, I realized that Skip was letting out a long, low growl. And then a bark and lunge at the other dog. It wasn’t over the top, but it was rude and a surprise, so off we went.

I hadn’t made up the name for it then, but my foster-dog-in-hiding was a DINOS.

In those days I walked a few reactive dogs, I read Patricia McConnell’s Feisty Fido a lot, and strictly obeyed leash laws, but I didn’t really get leash reactivity the way I do now. Back then, it was a real surprise that Skip wasn’t cool with other dogs being close by and I quickly realized that finding a family was going to be even tougher than I had imagined.

In a city as densely populated as Philly, with only a few dog parks available for off leash exercise, everyone walks their dogs in close quarters. Leash reactive DINOS are challenging for all of us, but for those that live in cities without backyards or lots of open spaces, they can be really tough. I worried: Who would want to adopt a DINOS in packed city?

Kerry. That’s who. One day Kerry heard about Skip and saw his magic ear and sly, bedroom eyes and emailed me.

If you’ve ever been a foster family, then you know what it feels like when you meet a potential adopter that you think might be a great match. You really hope they’ll like your foster dog and not get freaked out by his behavioral issues. You desperately want them to see all the good things that you see in your foster dog.

But, because you want the match to be the right one, you also want to lay out the more challenging bits, so they understand what they’re committing to take on if they adopt him.  You want them to see the whole picture and be as smitten with the good, the bad, and the bathtub poop as you are.

So, the potential adopter arrives and you’re totally excited and you want to rave and gush and lay out all the problems all at once. Basically, you want to vomit information at them, while gesturing wildly with a scary smile on your face.  That’s what you feel like on the inside, but on the outside you just. try. to. stay. cool.

Like it’s no big thang. Yo, lady, it’s nice if you like him, but no worries if you don’t. No pressure or used car salesman techniques from this foster broad. Love ’em or leave him. Who me, worried? Nah, I’m just chilling with my foster-dog-in-hiding, not worried at all that he might eat my cats or that I’m going to get evicted.

Oh, you like him? And you want to adopt him even though I’m just some weird gal that you’ve never met before and I scooped up this stray dog off Washington Ave? And you heard me when I said he’s not that into other dogs? And you’re really responsible and loving and actually filled out my home-made adoption application with thoughtful answers?

Yes, you can have him. Now excuse me while I burst into tears. Please help me from drowning in my own snot.

Meeting Kerry went something like that.

So Skip went to live with Kerry and became Buddie. And they went running through the city together and worked on his leash reactivity and even let me come visit them sometimes. Buddie made friends with Kerry’s mom’s dog and they sent me photos. It was a good adoption. I can’t tell you how lucky I was and am that this worked out for Skip/Bud.  In a city with that many dogs, happy endings are hard-won, especially for DINOS.

It’s been about six years since then. I moved to Maine and eventually lost touch with Kerry, but never forgot them.  And I often wondered, after hundreds of adoptions since that one (through my work in a shelter): Does Kerry still have him? What are the chances that this was a lifetime adoption? After you do enough of them, you learn that even the best adoptions don’t always stick  and dogs you never thought you’d see again, show up back at the shelter for another turn on the kennel floor. I hoped that Buddie was ok.

And then, out of the blue the other day, I got an email from Kerry.  And it turned out that all my fears, that this DINOS adoption wouldn’t last, were for nothing.  Here’s what she wrote:

“He is such a huge blessing, Jessica.  He is still a bit anxious when I leave and in the car, but much better than the beginning. He has gotten to the point where he can tolerate other dogs nearby…he still goes crazy over cats and squirrels, can leap over 6-foot fences and has that lovable one-ear trick! He’s the same dog you rescued – so loyal, playful, caring and sweet. I just adore him and can’t imagine my life without him. I really do think about you often and feel grateful for you and the fact you brought this extraordinary friend into my life. “

This is a foster mom’s dream for her foster-dog-in-hiding.

Thank you Kerry. Thank you for loving Buddie as much as I had dreamed someone might, if only we were lucky enough to find them. Thank you for helping Buddie to beat the odds and make it into a family that loves him for who he is. Thank you for rushing him to the ER to have life-saving surgery last year. Thank you for giving him the family he was hoping to find on that day he busted his chain and went in search of something better.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

And for anyone out there that is fostering or caring for a DINOS in a shelter, I want you to know: There are good people out there that will love these dogs, despite their quirks. For all the sad stuff, the returns over tiny issues, the adoptions that don’t work out, there are dedicated, loving families that will do the work. There are DINOS-friendly families out there.  To everyone caring for a Foster-Adoptable-DINOS, keep your head up! There just might be a Kerry right around the corner.

I love you Buddie-out-in-the-open. 

 

Feb 3

3 Comments

A Valentine’s Day DINOS™ Contest!

The other week the fabulous folks at MrChewy.com offered me a $50 gift card to do a little shopping on their site. But I couldn’t resist an opportunity to pass along this gift to you guys, so MrChewy.com has kindly agreed to let me give away the gift card as a prize to one lucky reader!

I thought about doing a photo contest, but am I the only one that gets a little bummed out by those? 

I always feel bad for the dogs with photos that don’t get a lot of “likes”, so I wind up voting for that blurry photo of the dog with flash-induced red-eye and a dirty laundry pile in the background. (Seriously, why do people enter those terrible photos in contests? They know everyone can see their tighty whities on the floor and that their dogs look like angry ghosts, don’t they?) 

Maybe we’ll do one in the future, because I really love seeing your dogs, but for this contest, I thought I’d do something a little different! 

Drum roll please…

Get ready for the very first DINOS Valentine’s Day Essay Contest! 

We all know that living with DINOS can be tough some days, but in the end, we love the fur right off of these guys.

In 750 words or less, take a crack at this theme: “A Love Letter to my DINOS” and tell me how living with a DINOS has brought you joy. In other words, I want to know how awesome life can be with DINOS.

Here are some questions to help you brainstorm (you don’t have to actually answer these, but it might help get you started):  What life lessons have you learned from living with DINOS? What is it about your dog that makes all the tough stuff worthwhile? What do you wish people knew about your DINOS? What weird faces do they make when they’re sleeping that make you laugh so hard, you forget about how miserable it was to walk them that day?

Hint: I want you to make me laugh or cry or laugh until I cry or maybe even cry until I start laughing. You get the idea, right?

Send your entries (one per person, please), plus a photo or three of your DINOS to: info@notesfromadogwalker.com

Boogie (he’s the poet, after all) and I will choose one winner to receive the $50 gift card to MrChewy.com and we’ll publish your essay on our blog and Facebook for everyone to enjoy! 

If there are some real gems, beyond the winning entry, I’d love to share those  essays on my blog too.  So if you enter the contest, be sure you’re ok with the public reading what you wrote.

Rules: Please send entries to info@notesfromadogwalker.com by midnight on Friday, February 10th. 

The contest is open to everyone, but only residents of the continental U.S. are eligible to win the MrChewy.com gift card** – sorry guys,  they don’t ship internationally or to AK and HI.  So, if you’re outside that area, you can still enter, but won’t be able to use the gift card personally.

**A quick thinking fan has suggested that if someone from outside of the continental U.S.  wins the contest, they could donate the gift card to an animal shelter or rescue, of their choice, that is located within the shipping area (the lower 48 states). Not only is that a great idea, but that’s an option for anyone who wins, no matter where they live.  If you win and would like to donate the gift card, we’ll work out the details together, so the right party receives the promo code. (Thanks Joyanne!)

Questions? Hit me up on Facebook or email: info@notesfromadogwalker.com

The winner will be announced on Valentine’s Day!

Dear Boogie, This moment made it all worthwhile. Love, Mom

Feb 1

30 Comments

You Might Be a MDIF If…

If you’ve recently read My Dog is Friendly!, it may have left you wondering: I have a friendly dog. Am I a MDIF? 

Or maybe the PSA made you kind of mad. You read it and thought, “Hey! I have a friendly dog. Don’t make me the bad guy here!”

Kind readers, allow me to explain. Just because you have a friendly dog, doesn’t mean you’re a MDIF. If you have a friendly dog and you are a thoughtful, responsible guardian – you obeys leash laws and do not permit your dog to act rudely towards others in public – then you’re probably not a MDIF.

Most MDIFs are well meaning people, totally unaware of how their actions impact others. And they don’t actually realize they’re MDIFs!  So in an effort to spread self-awareness across the land, to keep DINOS and dogs of all kinds safe and stress-free, I’d like to present this MDIF self test.

And just in case you think, “Boy, this lady sure has met some odd people! I’m sure this doesn’t happen to everyone!”, I’ll share a real life MDIF scenario from a different DINOS family to illustrate each test item.

Got your pens ready? You might be a MDIF if…

  • You have actively pursued someone walking their dog, calling out to them, “My Dog is Friendly!”  I don’t mean passing another person on a sidewalk and making this remark. That’s normal. I mean chasing another human, typically one who is hiding or speed walking away from you. If you’ve ever made a u-turn or crossed the street to follow someone, so that your dogs can meet each other, you might be a MDIF.

Real Life MDIF spotted by Kathryn H. “I had someone follow me across the street and then back to the other side of the street again. When I turned around to walk the other way, because the person was obviously not getting it, they called “Wait up! My dog wants to say hi to yours!”

 

leash sign

  • You allow your dogs to run off leash, in a designated on-leash area. You let them approach strange dogs, without asking the owner’s permission. You are too far away from your dogs to catch them and you do not have voice control over them. If you’ve ever stood by and watched your dog follow or chase an on-leash dog, you might be a MDIF.

Real Life MDIF spotted by Renee K. “I  had two off leash dogs running towards me, crossing streets, while I’m yelling at their owner to get her dogs. She was walking slow and yelling how her dogs were friendly, while I’m yelling “Mine isn’t!” The dogs were fast and caught up with us quickly, so I had to pick up my 45 pound pit bull, while the two small dogs are jumping up my legs and the owner is taking her time coming to get them. When she finally got there I told her, again, to leash her dogs and I felt like she looked at me like I was crazy. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry!”

 

  • You are adamant that your dog should meet all dogs, regardless of the other dog’s comfort level. If you’ve ever insisted, despite protests from the other party, that your dogs should meet and be friends, you might be a MDIF.

Real Life MDIF spotted by Jennifer S. “I have a dog reactive, territorial German Shepherd Dog. She is especially reactive to small dogs and to other female dogs. One day, I had her out in our fenced back yard…While I did some gardening, I heard her start to go ballistic – charging the fence, growling, and barking. When I ran over to see what was wrong, I saw our sweet, but clueless neighbor holding up her Rat Terrier mix to the fence. I pointed out that Frieda was dog-reactive and given enough incentive could probably clear our six-foot fence, so she should leave. She continued to hold her dog up to the fence and told me, “It’s okay – my dog is friendly. Everyone loves my dog, and I just want them to be friends.”

 

  • You believe that dogs can and should sort out problems on their own. You feel that, if need be, our dogs will teach your dogs a lesson. If you’ve ever disregarded a stranger’s plea to keep your dogs away and said, “It’s ok. My dog needs to learn” you might a MDIF.

Real Life MDIF spotted by Rachel M. “I was getting into the car with my 40 pound dog when a large off-leash Akita and his owner came strolling down the street. She said “My dog is friendly!” as he advanced, and I said “My dog is not!” She replied, “Then my dog will learn”, right as my dog lunged. In response, the Akita immediately went after my dog. I managed to kick him away and shove mine in the car. I wondered, what did she expect her dog to learn?”

 

  • You think that if other people knew the correct way to introduce dogs to each other, all dogs would get along. You feel obligated to show them how it should be done, regardless of their protests. If you’ve ever grabbed a stranger’s leash or physically interfered with another person’s dog, you might be a MDIF.

Real life MDIF spotted by Briana K. “A man came around a blind corner with a Golden and surprised Dexter and me. Dex snapped a bit. We were trapped on a crowded sidewalk waiting for a light, so I turned Dexter around. I kid you not, this man pulls his dog around and sticks the dog’s rump in Dexter’s face, saying, “It’s important that they have a positive interaction.” Luckily, Dexter was so confused by this that I had another moment to turn him around, yet again, and tell the guy it wouldn’t end up being positive if he kept forcing his dog on mine.”
 

  • You think that because your dog is wonderful, all dogs will like him. You believe other people are wrong when they tell you their dogs don’t like your dog. You think they will be happily surprised by your dog’s magic friend-making skills.  If you’ve ever ignored someone’s attempts to avoid your dog, calling out “It’s ok! Everyone likes Buster!” you might be a MDIF.

Real life MDIF spotted by Heather M. “My neighbors, who are nice, but clueless, used to let their dog, Sammy, out loose while I was walking my dogs, Iggy and Priscilla. I would say to my neighbors, “No, no! They don’t like Sammy!”  My neighbor would look at me like I had three heads and say, “But everyone likes Sammy!”

 

  • You get personally offended when someone does not greet your dogs. If you’ve ever spoken in a stage whisper to your dog, so that the other person can hear how offended you are, you might be a (passive aggressive) MDIF.

Real life MDIF spotted by Jenn G. “I walk many DINOS-by-design for my SPCA (they are DINOS  because they are shelter dogs and volunteers are required, while walking them, to keep them away from other dogs and the public due to a variety of reasons, like vaccinations and stress. This policy is to protect both the shelter dogs and the public’s dogs). Once, I was walking a lovely Rottie-cross shelter dog, minding my own business when a black Lab came flying toward us, with the owner not far behind. I called out “Could you do me a favor…and please leash your dog? I have an SPCA dog here”. After arguing in vain with him for a few minutes (from him: “Don’t worry, my dog is friendly” and “Oh, he needs to be socialized, that’s all”), the man stormed away. But later our paths crossed several times on the same set of trails. Every time we passed he would lean into his dog and say to the dog in an extra loud voice, so as to be sure that everyone nearby was listening, “No dear you can’t go and see THAT dog. THAT dog thinks he is really, really special because he lives in a shelter. THAT dog is too good to say hi to you…I know you’re disappointed sweetie. Let’s go now!”. I’m not joking – he did this three times!

 

  • You understand that some dogs need space, but because you love dogs, you think this doesn’t apply to you. If you’ve ever been told that a dog is afraid of strangers, but you insist it’s ok for you to pet them because you’re really good with dogs, you might be a MDIF (Tricky, eh? You didn’t even have a dog with you here!).

Real life MDIF spotted by Kelly S. “I was in the parking lots of the vet’s office with my dog who is scared of new people. This woman came walking over asking to pet him, but I told her, “No thank you, my dog is afaid of strangers.”  Instead of respecting my wishes, she just kept coming, saying, “It’s ok, all dogs love me!” and proceed to try to pet him over his head, while he ducked away from her hand. I had to stand in front of him to body block her from further attempts.

 

  •  You know that leash laws and “no dogs allowed” rules exist, but you don’t think they apply to you because your dogs are so friendly. If you’ve ever let your dogs run loose in  pharmacy, a pet store, or any other place where they’re not allowed or are required to be leashed, you might be a MDIF.

Real life MDIF spotted by Rebecca A. “Our local Home Depot is dog friendly, so we often bring in our people-loving pittie and American Bulldog when we shop there for a little Nosework practice. This weekend, a couple was there with two Rhodesian Ridgebacks off leash and not under good voice control. What were they thinking? I got the usual response from the couple when I asked them to call their dogs back – “They’re just being friendly!”

 

  • You believe it’s rude not to let dogs meet each other. You think it’s unfriendly when someone pulls their dog to the side and puts them in a sit-stay, so your dogs can’t meet. You think all dogs should be able and willing to meet other dogs and if not, something is wrong with them and their owners. If you’ve ever called someone a nasty name, criticized their dog, shouted at them for being rude, or stormed off in a huff, simply because they do not want to meet you, you might be a MDIF.

Real life MDIF spotted by Gato L. “A woman let her off leash dog approach the dog I was walking, a shy puppy. The off leash dog was approaching in a pretty aggressive manner- hackles up, ears and tail forward, all that. I can’t recall what I said at the time, as I was too busy trying to keep her dog away and mine from freaking out. But I recall her saying, “Is your dog EVIL? Dogs should be allowed to meet! Look, he wants to say hi! It’s natural! It’s not fair to keep them from greeting!”  It took all the treats I had to get the “evil”, cowering puppy back home.

 

  • You allow your children to chase, touch (without permission), or shout at other people’s dogs. If you’ve ever stood by while your child runs up to a strange dog and shouted, “It’s ok, he loves dogs!”, you might be a MDIF (Another tricky one! But it doesn’t matter if it’s your dogs or your kids that are friendly – same rules apply).

Real life MDIF spotted by Jackie D. “I was walking along a country lane, with my needs-space-from-everything rescue dog. A little way ahead was my friend with her not-keen-on-children rescue dog. A family was approaching. Both of us took our dogs up onto the verge and put them into a sit. The two small children ran away from their parents and flung their arms around my friend’s dog. My friend yelled, “Call your children away, my dog doesn’t like children!” Guess what the parents said? “That’s all right, they don’t mind.”  Yes, we yelled at the parents – they were very lucky they picked my friend’s dog to hug, not mine.”

 

If you recognize yourself in any of these scenarios, you may be a MDIF. But fear not! Knowing is half the battle. Many of us are former MDIFs, but have learned from our mistakes.

As Oprah always says, “When you know better, you do better” and I’m absolutely sure she was talking about MDIFs.

Now that you know about DINOS, you understand that they have valid reasons for needing space from other dogs (and sometimes people), so you can change your approach. It’s simple, really. Obey leash laws, ask permission before approaching, and respect personal boundaries. Before you know it, you’ll have left the MDIF category and can live, acronym free, as a responsible owner of a friendly dog!

Jan 27

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Big Red Ball: A Love Story

Throughout the years, there has only been one toy Boogie hasn’t eventually destroyed. Today we’re sad to report that this toy, the Almost Indestructible Ball, is no longer available at most stores.  We’re tipping our forties in its honor.

Luckily,  he doesn’t need a new one just yet, since they last Boogie a few years, but one day it’ll be so beat up that he’ll need a replacement. Sigh. Then we’ll have to go in search of a new lover ball.

There’s the front runner: the Jolly Ball (just make sure you get the one without the handle: Boogie ate that right off). And a couple of others to try, like the Boomer Ball (good enough for hippos at the zoo!) and a new Indestructible Ball. But it won’t be the same to Boogie.

He’s feeling kind of blue about this, so he wrote a poem.

 

Ode to My Big Red Ball

By Boogie “The Nudge” Dolce

 

Today it snowed.

Mom will release you

from your Home Depot Bucket.

The one with the lid

I cannot get off.

 

They hide you from me because

I forget to poop when you are near me.

No matter how long I am outside

I don’t go.

I would never leave your side

To make a stinky number two.

 

There you are

Big Red Ball!

 

Thump!

My chest bumps you along the ground.

Boom!

I slam you into the deck.

Wack!

I crack you against the trees.

 

 

My paws try to pull you closer,

then they spaz

out of control,

Pushing you away.

I didn’t mean it –

Come back!

 

Mom calls me inside,

I cannot hear her

over my love for thee.

You make me squeal

like a crazy chicken-piglet.

 

 

I want to lie down and

chew you into pieces so bad.

But you taught me the meaning of

Tough love.

My Almost Indestructible Ball.

 

 

 

 

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