Boone is my resident wiemaraner. My "grey ghost." He would be the bass singer in a quartet. His bark is more of a deep gutteral rumble that rattles my eardrums, nay, my entire body with its base vibrations. I know this because Boone loves to announce to the entire dog park that he is on his way...and sits right behind me as he bellows his joyous arrival. I've found some relief from his barrage by opening the windows of the car so Boone can stick his head out to share his music with the world. But no amount of coaxing him to silence ever works! Boone is a born crooner, a lounge lizard who'd sing to an empty audience if no one showed!

The other dogs in the car have been inspired by Boone's brand of music. It sparks something deep inside of them...something ancient, something mystically connective. Once Boone begins the overture, they pipe in with their harmonizing voices. Ear splittingly high yaps from the sopranos of little Lizzies, tenor melodies from the midsize crew of goldens and labs and alto backups from the yodelers who fancy themselves coyotes instead of dogs. At first I almost lost my mind trying to drive with all this racket. It seemed chaotic and abrasive. But then the counselor in me began to really listen to them...and watch them as they got swept up in the frenzy. And I began to think, where can dogs ever express that deepest part of themselves? As soon as they so much as woof, we are on them like the gestapo, silencing their would-be voices for our convenience. Heaven forbid they disturb the neighbors, or wake the baby, or worse, drown out the dialogue on our favorite TV show.

So where is a dog to go to tap into his or her wild roots of self-expression? If you've ever heard the chorus of coyotes singing to their hearts' content in the dark of the night, you know what I mean. Dogs need a place to howl! So I've decided that my car is a safe zone for their vocal experimentation. I've also discovered that if I join in with them, my ears forget to hear noise and instead, connected to my own vocal chords, take delight in the amazing harmonies that together we create. The dogs look at me funny at first, then realize I am not only letting them sing, I am endorsing it with my participation! You should hear my rendition of a coyote in heat!

I have a confession to make. I am a manipulator...and even worse, I use food to control those I am manipulating. Any good parenting manual will condemn the use of food as a reward to reinforce the behavior that you want in your child. My kids never caved to these techniques, but my dogs do! Boy do they ever ! I like to think that it is my charming, magnetic appeal that makes them follow me like the pied-piper, but truth be told, it is the fannypack full of treats that keeps them tethered to my side. Knowing that random reinforcement creates the best adhesive, I surprise them with goodies at the least likely moments. Even as they adventure off on their own, they keep one ear cocked my direction to hear my yodeling cry, "T-R-E-A-T!" Instant response...what power I feel at that manipulative moment!! It is the same rush that the ice cream truck man must feel when his tinkling song flushes unseen kids out of the bushes at a dead run. "Popsicles!"

A few observations about how these treats are received...there is the hovering group that refuses to wander far from my magic pouch, missing out on a greater adventure for fear of not being the first to get their treat. Then there's the demanding ones that try to trip me as they bark out their orders for a snack stop...(how dare them try to manipulate me!) Mostly they make me mad, less likely to want to give them something for their bold insistence. My favorites are the true adventurers who, despite their love of the goodies, trust me to give them their just due and waste no time or energy worrying about it, or trying to force me to fork it out. I WANT to reward them! All this made me think of how I receive things from others...or more importantly, from God. Which group do I fall in? Which one do you?

One last note. The other day I was trying to split a treat in two and decided to use my teeth. (Alright, I admit it was a dumb idea). Instead of breaking, it crumbled in my mouth, leaving me with a pile of disgusting sawdust that was absolutely the most tasteless thing ever to assail my palate. This is the treat that brings them running from all directions?! At that moment I lost all respect for the dogs I so easily manipulate! Now I understand why eating old dog poop is a gourmet meal to them...it's gotta beat this sawdust stuff!

Nico was my teacher today. I didn't plan it that way, but that is the nature of a great adventure...serendipitous life lessons. Actually I went out to teach him how to be a dog, but in the process he taught me something even more important.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. First let me introduce Nico to you. As you can see Nico is a full-blooded Miniature Collie, better know as a Sheltie. His problem is that he doesn't know that he is a dog...hasn't been around other dogs much and definitely prefers the company of human beings. (I have just the opposite problem!) On our adventures he clings to my legs like a pair of leg warmers, and given his luxuriant fur, he could well be just that. The other dogs are leaping, chasing, running, wrestling, sniffing, swimming, hunting squirrels and pretty much ignoring me, but Nico barely gives them a second nod. I am his universe, which doesn't say much about his standards!

So today I forced myself to ignore him, cute antics and all. I decided to so bore him that he was compelled to look elsewhere for stimulation. And to my great delight he began to do just that...he glanced at the other dogs and showed some interest in what they were doing...almost as if something inside of him was being awakened. Lizzie noticed right away and tried to engage him in a bit of wrestling, which he seemed surprised about, but gave it his best shot, employing all his favorite leaping moves he uses to impress me. They weren't very effective, but Lizzie was being her gracious self and worked with his peculiar attempts at being a dog. Any attention from me immediately swept him back into his familiar role of leg warmer, so I had to repeatedly remove myself to keep the magic of his disconnection with me in motion. That's when it struck me.

That's exactly what I've needed to do with my newly launched daughter in her freshman year of college. Oh, I can return her phone calls, emails and text messages, but I need to restrain myself from initiating too many of them myself. Like Nico, I miss her cute antics and worth-inflating focus on me, but it is truly a delight to my soul to see her finding her own independence as she discovers her unique personhood. She is off and running, chasing, sniffing, wrestling and exploring the emerging young lady that she is! And despite my loss as the center of her universe, I want to keep the magic of this alive.

So, Nico, thank you for being my teacher today. We'll work on other dog skills tomorrow, but something tells me you are well on your way!

What's Done is Done...Get Over it!

One of my favorite dogs I take adventuring is a little black lab/terrier mix named Kadi. She is special because she is my dog, Koda's girlfriend, or maybe better said "bitch-friend" in dog language. When alone, they wrestle, chase, lick each other's ears and have upmost trust in one another. Unfortunately, when I add other dogs to the mix, Kadi shrivels up into a cowering, terrified mass of "caninity" (get used to my use of literary license in coining new words as needed!). It breaks my heart to see her effervescence evaporate into fizzless fear...dull, flat nothingness. Her owner, Rick told me that when he and his wife Lois rescued her as a puppy from an animal shelter, she was covered with scabs that led them to believe she had been beaten up by the other dogs.

That was 4 years ago. That was thousands of hours ago, with dozens of experiences of good natured dogs interacting with her since then. Still no change, no learning from new, healthy encounters. The painful memories prevail. I hurt with her as she cowers, but her fears also evoke uncharacteristic meaness in her towards other dogs. Kadi appears to operate with the philosophy that "the best defense is a good offense"...so she quickly snaps and growls at any approaching dogs. Rightly so, their response is aggression back, and Kadi has succeeded in deepening her belief system that other dogs aren't to be trusted.

Sound familiar? We humans dig our relational grooves the same way...with the same results...cowering fears born of painful memories...resorting to defense mechanisms that only deepen our distrust of others as we provoke the very things we want to avoid. You'd think we'd learn...or at least see our part in choreographing that hurtful dance routine. But we don't. Kadi doesn't and neither do we.

So what's the solution. Let me talk to Kadi and you can eavesdrop if you want. "Kadi, you are a precious, wonderful, joy-filled little doggy. I love you...so does Koda. The other dogs around you aren't monsters. They are playful, fun, gentle and just as desiring of avoiding a fight as you are. If you'd just put aside your past pain for short stretches of time, and give them a chance to show you something different, you'd be able to start enjoying them and add them to your very short list of friends. You need to see your "snappy-snap" (what we call her biting) as bringing on their negative response and resist the urge to drive them away out of your own knee-jerk reaction to self-protect. Give them a chance, Kadi. It's time to let the past go and make some new grooves of experiences that allow others to take as much delight in you as Koda and I do. It is an "adventure" of another sort but we can do it together. Growl less and get over it!"

Welcome to Dog Blog: Life Lessons to Drool Over

If you've managed to sniff out this blog site, I must warn you ahead of time that there will be plenty of slobber and saliva involved in the writing of it. I am a "Dog Adventure Guide" in the Denver, Colorado area. That sounds like a glorified title for a dog walker, but I am only being honest about what I do. Every day I load up my small SUV with 6 dogs and head to Chatfield State Park's dog off-leash area...110 acres of DisneyWorld to a dog. No leashes, no fences and all kinds of wild adventures to be had. There is definitely no walking involved! So "Adventure Guide" is infinitely more accurate.

I am also a licensed counselor who has a difficult time shutting off my observations of relational interactions...be they human or canine. As I have gallivanted with my frothing, frenzied adventurers, have realized that we have a great deal to learn from our 4-legged friends. It is my hope, nay, prayer that I will somehow be able to translate the lessons they so graciously impart into language that we, as humans can embrace in our own lives. So unleash your stereotypes of "a dog's life" and travel with me on our adventures!