Smelling the Roses — Learning from my Dog

My black and white Boston is the prim and proper sort; he has definite thoughts on the way the things should be. I call him my protocol droid.* While he is a formal little man, all gussied up in his natural fur tuxedo, he also has a fat streak of adventure and curiosity. Individual walks with him are a joy. I don’t need to be on close watch for his personal bubble of safety; he’ll try to make friends with anything with breath (squirrel, bird, cat, goose, fox, deer). Walks with my black and white involve him leading me with punctuated exhalations (dog laughter) around trees, through bushes, up and down stairs, and atop short walls. He stops to sniff flowers, bugs, leaves, and unseen stinky spots. He won’t eat bugs right away; he’ll sniff and paw at them before deciding whether they would be delightful in his tummy or just friends. He explores his world deliberately. Sometimes, from full speed, he’ll stop short, staring with startled eyes at…what? He’ll bow, front legs splayed wide, with a gruff growly bark and tick tocking of his nubby tail. He’ll wait for a response from It then repeat the bow and gruff bark several times, bouncing up and down in between. He’s trying to figure out if It is a friend or foe. It may be a brown leaf on a patch of green grass that wasn’t there the day before, an orange cone where it “shouldn’t” be, a stray shoe or hat, a patch of new growth from the bottom of a tree (when everyone knows greenery grows at the top), or anything else that “doesn’t belong.” I’ll let him do his thing, then I’ll approach the object and touch it, making happy noises; he’ll join me, sniffing and wiggling his nub and laughing. In all of my busyness, he reminds me to stop and actually see the world around me, even if for a moment.

* Shameless Star Wars reference for those scratching heads

Joy in Living

I had the joy of fostering a boy Boston puppy for about five weeks; he went to his Forever Family last weekend. They are the perfect family for him.

If he had not been surrendered when he was, he probably would not have lived much longer. Given his condition, he was a risk to treat; there was a good chance he would not have survived his treatment. He had broken teeth, broken ribs, broken hip with decaying bone, badly damaged eyes, and, in spite of being full of food, had muscle wasting and malnutrition. He was in extreme pain. He was 7 months old.

No, he was not abused. He was a product of bad breeding (don’t get me started on bad breeders and mills), and the family was simply overwhelmed with mounting medical bills and worsening health in spite of treatment. Medical records indicated that he’d started having issues at about 3 months and that he was given excellent care. Surrender was the pup’s best chance at life. Thank you to that family.

The shelter’s vet repaired his hip, removed his eyes, neutered him, and gave him a high quality diet. He spent nearly a month healing in a crate in a busy vet clinic. In spite of everything he had been through, the day he met me and the shelter worker who brought the transfer paperwork, he cuddled, licked, and pawed at us both, as if we’d been friends forever.

Two days later, he travelled with me to deliver my other foster, a girl puppy, to her Forever Family. Every hand extended to him as we shopped at a pet supply store, met another rescue volunteer, and met the girl’s adoptive family he greeted with interested sniffs and happy licks. He spent a week on strict confinement as his major surgical sites healed. Although he wasn’t permitted to walk yet, I carried him in a baby sling on walks so he could enjoy the wind, sun, smells, and sounds. He rode around like a little emperor. Over the course of the week, his energy increased. My adult Bostons thought he was weird for bumping into them in the kitchen at meal time, but during couch cuddle time, one groomed him and the other brought him toys.

The day came when he was off confinement. I thought I’d have to teach him to follow. Oh, no. I walked a few paces toward the kitchen and chirped his name. His head snapped up, and he barrelled toward me at top speed. I stumbled backwards, laughing into the kitchen, and he was right there with me. I tapped his food bowl; and he tucked in. My two, the foster, and I went on a short walk after dinner. With all the confidence in the world, the little blind boy trotted next to his play buddy, nipping at his ear and patting him with his paws. Inside during play times, he charged around at full steam, egged my boys on to play, chased them as he heard their tags jingle, and wrestled like a luchador. When I introduced him to stairs, he felt them out then climbed as fast as his tiny body allowed. He wanted to figure things out on his own and seemed pleased with himself when he succeeded, lifting his chin and prancing like a pony.

He decided the family we visited was his. The dad took the pup from me, and the pup nestled into his arms. He made himself at home visiting everyone for scratches, cuddling with the mom, and initiating play with the other dogs.

I love and am inspired by his confidence, curiosity, and positive attitude in the face of challenges.

Not Disposable

It’s been awhile. Work has been kicking my tail (in a good way). I brought home my first foster dog. He’s an adult, purebred Boston Terrier with AKC papers, on the smaller end of the range. He’s sweet. He kisses my hands often and my face whenever he can reach it. He decided that his place is on the sofa with his head on my thigh. He has a lot of spunk and is delighted to play with my Bostons. He likes soft blankets and semi-rigid chew toys.

When he came to me three weeks ago, those semi-rigid, slightly flexible toys with nubbly ridges probably felt really good on his inflamed gums and rotting teeth. His emaciated body weighed 12 pounds but should weigh about 15 to 17 pounds. I could count every vertebrae and every rib. His hip bones stuck out, too. He has an old eye injury that was never treated, making one eye look like a walker’s from The Walking Dead. Amazingly, he still can see through that eye, though I wonder how much since he walks into my leg if I’m on that side during walkies. Both hind legs have luxating patellas. He favors one or the other when on walkies, mostly the left. He was kept outside day and night, because at some point he began to take up too much space in the house, according to the owners.

What the fuck is wrong with people? They went through the trouble and expense of purchasing a purebred puppy. They had their fun with the cute, cuddly puppy. They didn’t bother with training or neutering. When he became a precocious teen, they stuck him outside and basically forgot about him. Then they gave him up. And as they handed him over, they said that when their old dog dies they want to adopt from the very rescue taking their little time and space wasting dog off their hands.

This is a life, one of God’s creatures, a being with emotions and thoughts. They chose to take on the responsibility of this tiny life. If one no longer wishes to or cannot care for the life one is responsible for, give it to someone who can. Let them have a beautiful, happy, quality life. The only positive thing I can say about the owners is that they did the right thing in giving him to rescue.

Did they not see that he was hungry? Did they not see he was physically uncomfortable? Did they not feel the cold of winter and think that maybe that little creature, who had happily bounced around their living room entertaining everyone as a baby, wanted to feel warm and safe? He was starved for kindly touch.

And after all this little boy has been through, all he has wanted to do since he arrived in his foster home has been kiss, play, and cuddle. The obnoxious male behaviors like humping and marking have virtually disappeared since neutering a week and a half ago. He has clean teeth; the rotten are gone. His fur is shiny. His eye is no longer inflamed. With exercise and supplements he’s walking more comfortably and normally. He has meat on his bones and looks downright robust at nearly 15 pounds. He stands tall instead of cowering. He is docile and well-behaved. He has given a lick to every single hand extended to him, regardless of gender, age, race, stature, or what the person was wearing or carrying.

If only every human could be that loving and forgiving.

Kitchen Play

I had every intention of cleaning the house today. I did dishes and laundry, so I suppose that counts. I just wanted to play.

I like making soap. So I wondered if I could make my own shampoo, too. I’m trying to reduce the number of harmful chemicals in my home and am switching to gentler cleansers, soaps, makeup, etc. I tried a concoction of coconut milk, bentonite clay, tea tree oil, and some other stuff. I looked like I’d washed my hair with Wesson, even after rinsing with straight vinegar. Guess I need to work on something not so oily for my baby-fine hair. It smelled great, though!

So I moved on to cookies. I took a recipe from fastpaleo and replaced the flax with coconut flour and added cocoa powder. The result was soft and almost fudgy. Yum! Bonus points for being filling and not overly sweet.

Being dissatisfied with the shampoo experiment, I hauled out the stick blender and lye to make regular soap. I used coconut, shea, castor, and olive oils, green tea, bentonite clay, and an essential oil blend that’s warm and earthy. I’m a fan of room temperature process. It all turned a lovely dulce de leche color. The only not fun part about making soap is waiting for it to be ready. I’ll let you know how it turns out!

Clay and Green Tea Soap

Makes 500 grams (1 lb)

Lye 72 grams
Green tea made with distilled water 190 grams
Coconut oil 200 grams
Shea butter 125 grams
Castor oil 25 grams
Olive oil 150 grams
Essential oil of choice 1/2 ounce
Bentonite clay 2 tsp

Get all of your materials and tools together. Measure everything out.
Put any oils that are solid or semisolid together.
Add lye to water (tea). Lye goes into water, NOT the other way around!
Stir lye and water. Wait until mixture is clear. Mixture will heat up.
Add to solid/semisolid oils and stir a bit. When oils are totally liquid, add other oils.
Use stick blender like a spoon and stir a bit. Turn stick blender on for 10-15 seconds and stir.
As soap thickens, add clay and fragrance.
Alternate off and on stirring until mixture reaches trace (looks soft and silky like a pearl).
Pour into prepared mold.
Wrap in blanket to help keep chemical reaction going.
The next day, pop the soap out of the mold. Cut as desired.
Let cure for at least a week.

The more cure time, the gentler the soap and the better it stands up to moisture. Curing allows the pH to settle (lye burns) and water in soap to evaporate.

If you make a larger/smaller batch or adjust/change the oils in any way, run the recipe through a lye calculator such as http://www.soapcalc.net. Also read up on safe handling of lye. Very bad things can happen when fooling around with lye. It is caustic and can burn you, children, pets, and your kitchen fixtures.