Sleepless in San Diego

"You don't want him/her to get his/her days and nights mixed up!" I can still hear the horror in my mother's voice, when she would make this declaration about some newborn or other. Last night I wondered if we had fallen into that discombobulatory nightmare.

In preparation for potentially disrupted sleep, Steve and I turned in a little before 10, putting Dionne in her baby kennel, a few feet away from Tucker's bed. And indeed, she was shrieking by 11:30, so Steve took the first trip out to the backyard with her. His report upon returning: a little pee, no poop, lots of scampering around in the dark, picking up twigs and leaves.

She woke us again around 1, and I took her out. Waiting for her to toilet gave me time to reflect on what a challenge it is to try to read a tiny fuzzy creature to whom you've been introduced just hours before. In the dark, bleary-eyed, I could barely make out the sight of her sniffing the ground, at times pawing it, but... was she looking for the spot in which to fulfill her urgent need to defecate (as dogs will sometimes do)? Or just goofing around? After waiting for a long time, I decided it was the latter, but back in our room, around 4, she was shrieking again. Once again Steve carried her down the stairs, through the house, around the pool and back to the lower yard. Not long after her return to the kennel, she was whining and emitting more mournful puppy howls.

Desperate and determined NOT to get up before 6, I hefted her kennel with her in it and moved it next to our bed, just inches from my face. Within minutes she settled down and slept till 6:20.

A sleeping puppy is a good puppy. 

So my current theory is that she was lonely and sad to be sleeping in a cold hard crate instead of a warm, smelly pile of litter mates. I think it was a mistake to put her so close to Tucker; she could see him and probably wanted to snuggle up (an idea Mr. Tucker would have loathed. He doesn't trust these little ones, the way they and their razor-sharp teeth nose around his belly and penis, looking for milk).  Tonight I'll put her next to me again. I'll insist that both Steve and I start the night wearing earplugs. I have a sense that this is a puppy who, given the right circumstances, can make it through the night. We'd all benefit from that happening sooner rather than later.

Meet Ms. Dionne!

She was the 6th of 8 puppies born around 8 weeks ago. She now weighs a bit over 15 pounds. I picked her up early this afternoon, and so far she has already distinguished herself from her four CCI predecessors in our household in several ways:

-- First puppy to ride all the way back to our house (from Oceanside) without crying, whimpering, or shrieking.

-- First puppy to fall in the pool on the very first afternoon! (within 3 hours of arrival). Thankfully, I was able to fish her out without having to jump in after her.  (The pool is cold at this time of year!)

-- First puppy to arrive looking a bit like Frankenstein.  She has staples under both eyes, intended to correct what I gather is a fairly common condition called entropian (in which the lower eyelid turns in and the rubbing of the lashes irritates the eye.)  I'm told the staples should fall out in about two weeks and she should be fine. Otherwise a simple surgery (which CCI promises to pay for) should fix her up.

Although the staples mar her beauty a bit, she's still a good-looking girl -- a solid bundle of silky, shiny fur. I think she'll grow up to have a big square retriever head. As for her personality... stay tuned.

Darby finds a new pack

The happy girl, with new pack members Joe, Kerri, and Kayla

Here, at last, is the happy wind-up to Darby's journey. She's now a member of the Dunne pack, and by all appearances, ecstatic to be that.  Now she can swim and snuggle and chase balls, almost without limit. She can visit us any time the Dunnes can spare her!

The working life is not for every pup.

Still hope springs eternal, and Steve and I have received word that we'll receive our next prospect on December 5.  Probably another female.  Probably a blonde lab-golden cross. No word on the name yet.

With this puppy, I'm taking the pledge; turning over a new leaf.  My goal is to post much, much more often, to keep a much more thorough chronicle of the puppy-raising enterprise.

Stay tuned.

The Call

Steve and I were in the kitchen yesterday morning, when the phone rang. It was Stu, the CCI administrator. As soon as he announced his name, all I could choke out was, "Oh no." 

Indeed, he was calling to let us know that Darby was being released. I can't say we  weren't braced for this possibility. As charming as Darby was, always, when we turned her in, she was still consistently lunging at small dogs whenever she encountered them out in the street.  She also was continuing to "alert bark," despite our best efforts to exterminate such unseemly behavior.  From what Stu said, it sounded like her barking got worse after she was turned in.  He said she would bark in her kennel, trying to get attention (and she never did that here.) Weirder still was that he said when she went on outings with her trainer, she would veer away from things she found unnerving; apparently she pulled sharply to the trainer's opposite side, at one point (verboten for any animal being trained to potentially work with someone in a wheelchair.) Our speculation is that the separation from family life required by advanced training was deeply distressing to her -- so much so that she developed these more neurotic behaviors. 

Happily, there's a fairytale ending in store for her.  Our friends Kerri and Joe Dunne, who've known Darby since she was pup, will be adopting her. They're diehard dog people and worshipped their two labs, but both dogs died of old age within the last year. They have a toddler and they acquired one replacement dog. But they wanted another and are happy to pay the $500 fee charged by CCI.  They'll pick Darby up Friday in Oceanside, and we'll get to see her the following weekend, when we'll host her here while they go away on a short trip they'd long planned. 

One thing that delighted us all was the reports of how much all the trainers loved Darby. My puppy mentor, LeAnn Buchanan, was chatting with the head trainer today and he told her Darby was one of the friendliest dogs he'd ever known. Considering how many dogs Todd has known, I was impressed. 

I still feel dismayed that she never even made it to her first report card. But Darby probably thinks that's just fine. I'm sure she's be thrilled to return to life as a beloved pet. 

Turned In

When people ask me how I can stand to raise a puppy and then give it away, I usually respond that part of the secret is to avoid thinking about Turn-In Day until the very last moment. Then I plunge into misery for a while. For this turn-in, I found the sad thoughts assailing me early in the week, and impossible to ignore. The event itself -- yesterday -- felt fraught with emotion.

Maybe it's partly because Darby is such a powerful personality. Although I've loved all my CCI puppies, she's not my favorite one of all time. Brando was that for me, and Tucker -- as our first -- also occupied a special place in my heart. But Steve says Darby unquestionably was his favorite, and Darby is a close runner up for me. She has an enormous appetite for affection, for cuddling, and for fun. She's smart and learns readily. Who couldn't love that combination?

This was our first turn-in since CCI moved from the San Luis Rey Mission. I loved the beautiful gardens there. In contrast, Oceanside's QLN Conference Center has a strongly industrial vibe. Still the physical surroundings were mere background; the canine ceremonies took center stage.

Lining up to have portraits taken.

Before those started, Darby got decked out in what Steve calls the "dress uniform" -- the fancy royal-blue cape and gold halter. We had our photo taken. Then Darby got a chance to meet her sister Dazzle -- whom she hasn't seen in 18 months.  I observed nothing to indicate that the two girls recognized each other. Still, we and Dazzle's puppy-raiser Beverly (from San Luis Obispo) enjoyed the reunion.

Who IS this blonde? 

Oh yeah. That's my sis, Dazzle.

Some of the pups found the graduation program less than riveting. But Darby, as always, remained alert.

Throughout the proceedings, she climbed up onto Elliot's lap at the slightest provocation (and lay down obediently when so directed). Then it was time to pack her into the van for the dreaded drive to the CCI facility.











I shot the traditional photo of her and Steve in front of the "escape-route" poster.

Then we checked her in and in short order handed her over. True to form, she trotted off to the doorway leading to the kennels, never once glancing back. My last glimpse of her was her tail wagging.

Now we won't receive any official news of how she's doing until Friday October 5.  I'll report that here.

Traveling girl

It's been one adventure after another for Darby recently. Her heat ended, and we picked her up from the kennel on April 9. (Tucker seemed more or less happy to see her.) Two days later, Darby, Steve, and I took off for a 5-day trip to Phoenix, where Steve was attending a professional meeting, and Darby got many opportunities to practice being virtuous.

Steve and Darby at Taliesin West

She rode quietly in her kennel for the six-hour road trip there and back. She stayed (for the most part) under tables in restaurants and banquet halls. She and I did a long self-guided walk around downtown Phoenix, and she also comported herself admirably at Taliesin West (the long-time winter home of Frank Lloyd Write), Cosanti (the Scottsdale residence and workshop of the venerable artist and architect Paolo Soleri), the Musical Instrument Museum, the Heard Museum, a horse-training ranch, and other public places.

Steve and Darby at Cosanti

Her favorite place, far and away, was the dog park I discovered not far from where we were staying. She and I visited the huge field for "Active Dogs" several times, and while Darby enjoyed a certain amount of socializing, mainly she ran and ran, chasing the balls I lobbed for her.

Steve came too on our last morning there, and after she'd raced around like a maniac for 10 or 15 minutes, he insisted on taking her to the field reserved for small and "passive" dogs. She often lunges at them during street encounters. But in her calm (and tired) state, she ignored them like a true princess.

We would have reasonably high hopes for her graduating, except for one worrisome bad habit she's developed.  I'll write about that in my next post.

Our other dog

I've had several calls from Melissa, the vet tech up in Oceanside, reporting that after three full weeks of incarceration, Darby still is in full heat, according to the swabbed cells that they scrutinize microscopically. Melissa has been checking her daily; now we're hoping she'll be ready to come home by Monday.  (Happily, she appears to have fully recovered from the kennel cough that was circulating last week.) Although Steve and I miss her, Darby's absence has allowed us to pay more attention to Tucker, our CCI release dog (now almost seven and a half). So often he's overshadowed by the puppies. 

Tucker is the most polite and obedient dog I've ever owned. He's a lover -- particularly of females (human and canine) -- and I don't think he has an aggressive bone in his body. The excessive energy that disqualified him to be a service dog has evaporated. In fact, I often complain that he has become an old codger, willing to sleep away 20 hours of the day. But in Darby's absence, I've been amazed on several occasions by his playfulness and energy. His somewhat melancholy face can still turn joyful in an instant. It's made me think that, while the puppies are wearing, he still has plenty of appetite for fun.

Focusing on him has also reminded me of how idiosyncratic dogs can be.  Consider the Tucker Sit, demonstrated in the photo. He does it all the time. Surely it can't be that uncommon, but we'd never seen a dog do this before Tucker, and we swear he's taught a couple of the puppies to copy him.

We've never had a dog who does what I tried to capture in this video:

He sticks his tongue in and out. Although I only captured a few seconds here (in low light), we've observed him keeping it up for five or ten minutes at a time, invariably after a meal. We theorize that he's intent upon savoring every last molecule of his last meal.

He's lived with us since he was 8 weeks old, and Steve and I think we understand him about as well as any human can understand a member of another species. But after Darby left, it struck me that we have no idea how he feels about her absence. We joked about how happy he was to be a single dog again, basking in the spotlight of our attention. But to be honest, I can't say that he's really acting happier than normal. He's not moping, as people report that one pet sometimes does upon the death of a companion. In the first few days after we took Darby to the kennel, I saw him run outside a few times and bark. I wondered if he was seeking her.

When she does come home, whenever that is, I'll watch closely to see how he reacts. I'm sure he'll wag his tail excitedly. But will he be happy? He'll recognize her, but in her absence right now, does he even remember that she's gone? He can't talk, and the bottom line is, these questions are among so many that we can never answer.