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Learning to Read the Signs

I thought I understood dog behavior. Turns out, I didn't know my own dog...



Our dogs have mostly been couch potatoes. They've settled easily, and have instinctively known how to relax. Food and napping were their top priorities in life. A dog cookie would send them into a tailspin of pure canine joy rapidly followed by a long nap on the couch. You know the drill.


Chesty Puller Fischer-McMorrow, our legendary sweet pug, was evidence of that (see the video - heart melt). Connoisseur of Comfort, that sweet soul. We miss him every day.



A few months after we lost our sweet Chesty, my husband and I adopted our first puppy.


We went to see what dogs needed homes at the Humane Society, and out came a little white bundle of love with gigantic ears, impossible to place by breed, impossible to know much about, other than the fact that she was kind and curious. So, she came home with us.



And lo and behold, the little bundle of love grew legs four times the size of anything we could have expected. Suddenly she looked like a cross between a Jack Russell and a greyhound. Compact body. Skyscraper legs. Built for speed. Ready to run.



Oh boy. This was new for the McFish family.


We adapted our lifestyle and tried to keep her as active as possible. Since she seemed built for running, run she did. Fun chases down logging roads. Wild escapades through the neighborhood. Doggie daycare.


But...the more we increased activity, the more activity she needed.

Then, this past week, we went through a strange little crisis. Our little girl was getting so much exercise, but she seemed to be more and more agitated. She became wildly driven by scent and sound and visual cues - more than ever before, losing her mind at blurry movements in the yard.


I did what I should have done years ago... I went back to the books on doggie behavior - and did some homework. Silly me, the veterinarian, thinking I knew what she needed. Heck, no.


Turns out she needs the opposite of what I was giving her.

In fact, she needs exactly the same thing I do.


Quiet. Calm. Gentle exploration. Nature.



I adapted our schedule once again. The dog I thought was an athlete in training actually does much better if she is offered quiet moments, balanced with time to explore. Walks on a short leash, close to me. Room to discover and investigate, but not so much that her little sensory system is on hyperdrive. And, time to decompress.



The more I sat with that, the more I noticed the (ahem) "similarity." Turns out she and I are wired the same way. We notice everything, we overthink everything, and we can't easily turn it off.


What she needs isn't less of the world. It's a quieter way in. Well, my sweet four-legged lady, I hear you... and it appears I am just like you.


We have a new routine now, a really gentle one. It involves going to places where she can play with one or two other dogs, because she is still one heck of a social creature. But we also give her the time she needs to visit with her natural surroundings and engage her senses in a productive way that softens her nervous system instead of triggering it. It's still early days, but I am hopeful this will continue to be the recipe.


So, we enjoy nature together. We try to quiet our minds together. Who knew? After years of training, it turns out I am still the novice.


Sometimes you have to let the animal teach you. Thank you for your patience with me, sweet Luna.


(And p.s. - Yesterday's nap time. Maybe this lady shares more in common with

Chesty Puller Fischer-McMorrow than we thought...)


 
 
 

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