dog and human relationship

Hands Off?

Pam Hogle Stories, The Thinking Dog Blog ,

Golden retrievers Dotty and Orly sit on green grass and smile for their photo

Dotty is home for a visit! She’s calmer and a little more mature, but the silly, playful puppy is still there.

And … she is still obsessed with hands. She’s very paw-oriented and loves to dig, paw at people to say hello or ask them to play, and hold her toys with her paws.

When she first saw me after several weeks, she wanted to hold hands, maintaining constant contact by resting a paw on my hand or knee.

She’s also obsessed with human hands, and she appears to believe that the only reasons hands exist are to either feed or pet and play with dogs.

White golden retriever puppy Dotty lies on a blue sofa and looks straight at the camera
WHY are you not petting me?

Correction: Pet and play with Dotty. If I am patting Orly or, horrors! another dog, she tries everything she can think of to move my hands — and attention — over to her.

Her focus on hands is especially noticeable when I am trying to relax or to exercise. I like to stretch in the mornings, and some evenings, I try to relax with a short yoga video.

Sometimes I also just sit, watching TV or reading, with one or both hands unoccupied.

These situations are simply Unacceptable. If either or both hands are still, maybe just lying there on the floor or sofa — Dotty simply can’t stand that.

She’ll lick them. Nudge them. Paw at them. Push her nose under my hand and attempt to make it pet her. If I react at all — a laugh, even a smile — she’s encouraged to increase her efforts.

Orly is a little more restrained. While she also enjoys licking and nudging my hands, her favorite trick when I am exercising is to wait for me to close my eyes, even for a second. She darts in and gives me the tiniest kiss, right on the nose.

I’ve seen videos of people doing yoga with their dogs … and the dogs are just accompanying them. Exercising together. Doesn’t that sound nice?

Not these girls … they make it all about them. Or maybe they just understand that laughter is the best exercise and are nudging me toward more laughing, less stretching? Yep, that must be it!

Missing Christine

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog ,

I remember the day she was born, nearly fourteen years ago. I would be responsible for her sister, Cassie, but only for a few months. Christine’s human mom — we were all learning to train service dogs — held her when she was only moments old and became her trainer when Christine was seven months old. The two formed a solid bond and became a permanent family a few months later.

Christine was one of the last puppies in the litter. It was a dramatic birth. “My” puppy wouldn’t stop bleeding from the umbilical cord. One of the other students, an EMT, stopped the bleeding. Then one of the pups was not breathing. The same student tried to save the tiny puppy, but she didn’t make it. There was an orientation going on in the next room for volunteers who would help socialize the puppies. Each student had a part in the orientation, and we had to run back and forth between the whelping room and the room filled with people. Christine’s mom, Ideal, an special dog who raised many successful service dog puppies, stayed calm despite all the drama.

Christine was fine, though, wonderful even, right from the start. She had pretty much the perfect dog life. Her devoted mom took her to the beach pretty regularly, and they went on great hikes and walks in San Francisco every day. She had the best food and treats. Dozens of toys. When we all got together, Jana and Cali sure knew which mom to beg for treats. Not their mom.

Christine carries a large tree branch on the beachChristine showed Jana the ropes at Fort Funston and at our favorite — Crissy beach. She liked to speak softly and carry a very big stick. She loved to play and sniff out gophers. Jana loves to roll in the sand. Lucky for her mom, Christine didn’t do that. She slowed down a bit as she hit her teens, but she was always a sweet, friendly, happy girl.

In the end, as it often is with golden retrievers, Christine was diagnosed with cancer. She carried on for six months, but eventually, she could go no farther. Wherever great dogs go, she’s in good company. I can’t even list all of the wonderful dogs my friends and family members have lost in the last year, let alone all the wonderful dogs who’ve touched our lives.

Sometimes, cancer takes a dog very suddenly. Christine, as our Oriel did, gave us time to prepare. But either way, no one’s ever ready, and there’s never enough time. Thirteen and a half years, a full life for a golden retriever, is far too little time to have with a beloved friend and companion. We miss you, Christine.