Happy National Golden Retriever Day

It would be remiss of me not to post a blog about Golden’s on National Golden Retriever Day, so here it goes:

Hello… remember us???

The life of a multi-dog household centres around.. you guessed it dogs.  Between walks, airing, feeding, training and the constant monitoring to make sure they don’t kill themselves, it is no wonder that my life feels like it is pretty much 24/7 dog, dog, dog. 

Please don’t think I am complaining, because I’m not,  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Last week I had to travel for work, but was afraid that weather would either delay my return and/or leave me stranded up North.  I decided to take a proactive approach and arranged for the furry herd to stay overnight at the farm.  It was rush, rush, rush to get them all packed up and dropped off, which was followed by an ultra quiet abyss.  It felt unnatural to walk down the hall or sit on the couch without having to plan a route around the herd.   I was so unnerved, I decided the best option was to go to bed early. 

This was a turning point for me, as it was hard to miss the herd when I could stretch out and have the whole bed to myself.  BONUS, having them away meant an extra 45 minutes of sleep the next morning and believe me an extra 45 minutes is nothing to scoff at when it changes your wake-up time from 4:15 to 5:00 a.m..  Whoot!  Whoot!!!

Thanks goodness the weather cooperated and I was able to pick them up the next evening.  I delighted in the clickety clack of nails on hardwood, as they zoomed around the house checking out what had changed since they had left.   Life and our daily routines resumed from a momentary pause.  

What does a typical week look like with multiple dogs????

Fun at the Farm- GoldenPride Kennels

Meal times can resemble a shark feeding frenzy, at times, depending on how hungry the herd is.  I have two that spin like a centrifuge, spraying long goobery strands of drool all over my lower cabinetry, as the other two dance around.  The puppy does a combo dance and spin all the way from the food bag to her crate. Once the bowls hit the ground and the release word is given, the frenetic energy level increases by a factor of 10.  It is not uncommon for bowls to spin across the floor spilling kibble every which way.   That is when feeding time turns into a game of Hungry Hippo.  Furry bodies scattering to and fro trying to hoover up as much kibble as they can before their opponents finish their bowl and join in the hoovering fun.  

Please Sir… More Kibble!

Airing the herd aka potty breaks take about 45 minutes each time… depending on how much they want to dawdle,  Walks can be anywhere from 45 minutes to 1.5 hours depending on whether I take all of them together or for individual walks around the sniffy block.  Depending on my degree of tired and the weather I either love or loath airing time.  I would be lying if I said I didn’t have the occasional fantasy about being able to squeeze the pee/poo out of the dogs to speed up the process so that we can make a hasty retreat to the warmth of the house.  But no… I have been blessed/cursed with three dawdlers.  They get distracted by the smells, sights and sounds, quickly forgetting why they are outside.   Thank goodness two have mastered the skill of pooing and peeing on command or I might never sleep again. 

Feelin’ Adventurous with the Fab 4

Formal training lessons can range from 1-2 hours an evening three days a week with short training spurts throughout the rest of the week.  I teach Rally 2 hours a week to offset the cost of lessons and work to keep the dogs in training treats and to pay for dog shows. 

Rally anyone?

Is it worth the time commitment????

The stories and memories are worth their weight in GOLD! 

Here are some of the stories from this week….

Wednesday was a day of regret and lament.  The night before I had tried new training treats with Brie during her lesson.  She really liked them and consumed a ton over the course of the hour.  Well I found out the next day that her tummy isn’t quite ready those treats.  She was up on the bed early Wednesday morning snuggling with me when she abruptly left.  The next sound I heard ended with a squirt.  

Was it a fart or a shart???

It was a shart 💩.  I had just cleaned up pile number one, when she was got busy making pile number 2, then 3.  It was quite astounding how much poo was packed into that tiny little frame.   Needless to say she had her first exposure to a bland diet, which she wanted nothing to do with until the other four tried to take over eating it, then it became ambrosia… the best food EVERRRR!

By Thursday I was wiped out, and did not have any food in the house, so I decided to order pizza.  Now pizza night is a fan favourite in this house.  Four of the furry herd know a delivery car means they will soon be feasting on pizza crust and they start drooling as soon as they see the car pull into the driveway.  I have started meeting the delivery person outside vs at the door, as it can be intimidating approaching a house with four dogs with frothy mouths intently staring you down from the doorway.  

I exited the house as soon as I saw the car slow to a stop.  Brie managed to escape and joined me greeting the delivery person in the yard.  As he was petting Brie he looked up to see the other four all lined up noses pressed against the glass of the storm door, droolicles stretching from the corners of  mouths to the floor.  “You sure like the dogs!!!  5??? Do I count 5????”.   

And that is how a reputation is born!

I was able to use the smell of the pizza to lure Brie back in the house.  It didn’t take long for me to start feasting on slices,  much to the delight of my audience.  After I was finished eating I had to change into dry pants… it is amazing how much drool five dogs can produce in one sitting… enough to fill an Olympic sized pool.

You are getting sleepy…. Now feed us some dang pizza!!!!

Ferg brought the adrenaline rush to Friday.  I had put him out on the tie-out rope and went back inside to finish some last minute things I wanted to get done for work.  As I was working I notice an elderly gentleman from the hood walk by with his dog.  Shortly after he passed Lyndy started whining and running from the window to me and back again.  That’s when I heard voices getting louder and more forceful outside coming from the area Ferg usually chills in.

What could be going on?  Was someone trying to steal Ferg???

I went to the window to look out and what I saw froze me to the spot for a millisecond.  The elderly gentleman and his dog must have stopped to say hi to Ferg and had proceed to move from the safety of the road into what I refer to as the “Strike Zone”.  

Ferg attempting to lure people into the Strike Zone

See Ferg is a jumper/climber, but he is sneaky about it.  He sits in the Strike Zone all calm, quiet and dignified looking.  As people pass he starts smiling and wagging his tail… an invitation to the passerby to come and pet him….which they all tend to do.  What the newbies don’t know is,  as soon as they breach the perimeter of the strike zone, Ferg starts gearing up for his attack of love.  He always makes sure his target is well within the middle of the zone before he makes his move, blocks their retreat and starts climbing or jumping on them.  The calm disappears and a stage 5 clinger is born.   His target is usually startled by his change in demeanor and now has to extricate themselves from Ferg’s clutches and make a hasty retreat.  Not an easy thing to do, as he is persistent.

Ferg’s Friday target knows this about him.  He has known this about him for the last 9 years.  Given the man in question is rake thin… pretty much sinew and bone and in his late 90’s he usually just talks to Ferg from the street.  So you can imagine my surprise when I look out the window and found him ensnared by Ferg and the tie-out rope, in the middle of my yard standing on a patch of ice.   I quickly ran outside and instructed the man to stand still while I unhooked Ferg from the lead, and carefully unwound the rope from between and around the gentleman’s feet. My fear was Ferg accidentally pulling the man down and dragging him all over the yard, like a scene from a Western. 

Untangled, the man swiftly made his way to the safety of the street, probably offering prayers of thanks that he made it out with both hips intact.  Seconds latter his dog pulls the leash free from his hands and boots it back to Ferg.  I guess Ghilles wasn’t done living on the edge.    I retrieved the dog and brought him back to his owner, then rushed Ferg back into the house to remove Ghilles’s temptation to 3-peat running away.  

Is this what is meant by dog pile??

This is how I started my morning…under a pile of dogs.  If you look closely you can see my hair by the side of the purple ball.  I was lounging in bed making my grocery list when the herd spotted dogs frolicking in the park behind the house.  In my house windows are like TV for the dogs.  Shortly after this,  Lyndy went downstairs and brought up a food bowl as a hint that maybe I would be serving them breakfast in bed, given it was Golden Retriever Day!

Breakfast in bed would not be remiss!

Really, some dogs and their dogs!!!!

Well dear reader, this is where I sign off… may your day and the days that come be Golden!