Well, you knew it was coming: The sentimental post to hold up to the light all the things Cedar shows us. The joy in waking up to a new day, the endless capacity for forgiveness, curiosity, and love. Nah, this one is about pie.
Because I’ll begrudgingly admit that some of the above may be true, depending on the moment and the weather, Cedar gets to be this year’s centerpiece of our annual smoked sourdough apple pie.
Pie art by Katrina. (You knew that.)
When I shared the image with Katie, who is spending Thanksgiving back East with fellow Juneau college boy friends, she asked whether that was a dog or a penis. Some days the line is fine, I will admit.
We’ll keep working on our sourdough art–I see you rolling your eyes, kids who have been subjected to my not always so well leavened biscuits far too many times–but until she’s smothered in vanilla ice cream tonight we’ll give Cedar (who is currently helping with food prep by removing the label from a can of corn) her center-pie moment.
Happy Thanksgiving. And thanks (both of you) for reading along, or at least looking at the pictures.
Katrina was here on Cedar’s first day home. In the ensuing seven weeks, Cedar’s cells have divided a gazillion times; her weight and size have probably tripled. She’s gone from infant to tween.
Katrina helped us both through Cedar’s first nights, and eased the separation anxiety. We’ve lived apart since we started seeing one another in 2006, so we do know a thing or two about separation. I’m not sure how to take this, nor do I really care, but it took Cedar’s arrival for Katrina to get out a calendar and plan a regular series of visits. As happens often, life intervened on the November plan, so Katrina and Cedar are today catching up on half of Cedar’s life.
October 6 and November 24. Tom’s photography skills seem to be declining as fast as Cedar is growing.
One sweet thing Katrina did back in early October was leave her shirt behind for Cedar to bask in her smell. I’ve left it in her pen area. Occasionally I marvel that Cedar has never torn into it, but I’ve thought about moving it several times.
Katrina slipped in around midnight through a winter storm warning (with an actual winter storm attached). What a relief.
This morning, Cedar greeted Katrina with heart, paws, tail, and teeth full of love. After full on zoomies and a complimentary escort to the bathroom, Cedar came out, picked up Katrina’s shirt, and began parading around the kitchen with it— a stunningly beautiful piece of communication from Cedar’s heart.
ASVAB position statement and the “Good Dog Collar” recommended by the Monks.
Dang it. It’s true. The behaviorists at the American Veterinary Society of Animal Behavior, instead of using their precious resources to con more vets to move to Juneau, have come out with this Zero Tolerance position paper. There is absolutely no role for “aversive” techniques in dog training. While I’m certainly monitoring my YN ratio, I’m going to plant my feet in the slush and practice some somewhat civil disobedience.
I double checked the article this morning… “Did I really read that right?,” I wondered after a day of “meh” responses to simple COME commands, and after a morning walk with a whole lotta pulling and a whole lotta three-step corrections. An angsty little neighborhood waltz. I was mulling pulling out the “good dog” collar.
When the going gets mushy, I occasionally need a dose of Wolters’ common sense. From Water Dog:
“Teach HEEL on a leash and choke collar. Hold him in tight, command HEEL, slap your leg with your hand. Keep repeating the command. If he wants to be out front like the bandleader…yank. Pull him back, command HEEL… If he insists on getting in your way, give no quarter: bump him out of the way. Let him learn to walk on his feet, not yours; he’s got four, you’ve got only two…Once he knows what to expect, then get tough on him.”
richard wolters, water dog, 1964
I haven’t started on HEEL yet, but Wolters helps me reload just a bit. (And I’ve majorly disarmed myself by trying to avoid training with treats. There is some evidence, dear fam, that she does NOT live to please me. My one exception to the treats–a test case–is using ice cubes to bribe DOWN. She’s getting there, but I have no idea how to get her out of the short term reward phase.) The vets’ study points to the dangers of creating anxiety in pets through aversive feedback. I get it, and think I’ll know how to watch for it.
Wolters again, on COME.
“He’s got to understand that you must be obeyed immediately. Not tomorrow, not next week, but right now…. By the time he’s about 15 weeks old, he should come any time he’s called.”
Uh oh.
So… feet firmly in the slush, I say this oh ye hallowed vets. I’ll reward. I’ll praise. I’ll keep those cortisol levels down, I hope. I may even give in and carry treats.
But I’ll also know that look that says, “Yeah no.” (Did I get that right, Katie?) And… sorry dear Cedar, there will be an occasional aversive.
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