Finding Herself

By Linda Grupp Boutin

The first thing Star did when Gary and I returned without Kindu was to examine closely why her brother wasn't with us. A thorough sniffing told her that all we brought in with us was his collar, but no basenji boy. Impossible for me to explain to her, she had been well aware of his illness and that he wasn't doing well. She had taken to cleaning him like he was one of her puppies. At first he objected, but her persistence wore him down and he allowed her to lick his face and keep him clean. 

Star has always been one of our most fastidious basenjis, washing her face after every meal, keeping the floors clean with her own unique style of "vacuuming," trying to wash every bit of the coconut oil lotion off my hands as I let her get away with; the smell is just a bit too much like food as far as she is concerned. She is getting accustomed to being the only dog of the house. She no longer bolts down her food the second it hits the floor. She lingers over breakfast, sometimes not finishing her kibble until it's almost dinnertime.

Star looking backwards trying to convince me to pet her!

She approaches life in her own unique way, quietly, sometimes silently sitting beside me. Then turning those baby brown eyes backwards, reminding me that her ears, tummy, back, paws, face all need good and proper petting. I often wonder how in the world she can turn her neck this way without harming herself in the process. But she manages it on a daily basis. 

She enjoys moving from Gary to me, back to Gary then back to me. She relishes not fighting for the prime position next to our leg on the love seat. But she no longer enjoys long sunbaths on the patio with her best bud, Kindu. She prefers to stay in the house all day long with us, never concerning herself about the comings and goings on Flora Lane. At times Star seems to be completely bewildered having lost her compass in the form of her basenji brother.

We all are learning to live without Kindu, the life of the party. His example about how to enjoy each and every day, rejoice over the falling leaves and the singing birds, and greet every visitor with a loud BAROO. Star's calmness is unnerving  after 7 years with our boisterous boy leading the parade.

So now Gary and my conversations have turned to the subject of adding a 4th member to our pack. Basenji babies are only available in February, so stay tuned. Maybe not in 2016, but certainly by 2017 an addition to the pack is coming. After all, we need Star to train the new puppy about how to behave. Just like Kindu did for her.

Kindu on his puppy leash the first day home, ready to explore the neighborhood.

Solid As a Rock

By Linda Grupp Boutin

So although 2015 has brought more than its fair share of challenges, it also has brought great joy in resiliency. Our basenji boy, Kindu, has put back on 5 of the 9 pounds he lost, his coat is thickening and its reddish glow is returning thanks to the addition of coconut oil to his daily ration. And although he has hogged the majority of our attention, it turns out that our basenji girl, Star, has turned out to be the strongest member of our pack. She has watched our struggles, continued to cuddle and been the rock where we can anchor our storm-tossed ships.

Since Kindu has been more vulnerable, she has been stronger understanding better and better how vital a member of our little group she is. Star no longer cowers in her dog bed while Kindu claims the spot next to Gary while we watch TV. Instead she grabs the other side and sits proudly displaying her gorgeous profile pretending to be interested in whatever show is on.

Kindu claiming the queen-sized bed as his own

She spends the vast majority of any given day nearby me, always within easy reach of my petting which is better to her than food, although just barely. Sometimes she demands scratches and rubs wiggling in anticipation of the comfort any kind of touch brings this basenji. In the evening if I don't continue the pets long enough, she contorts her body to look backwards at me with pleading brown eyes meant to melt the soul. If that doesn't work, she pulls back her lips and shows me her teeth in a "submissive grin" which almost always makes me laugh.

Then we go through our routine, I pet her a couple times, stop, she wiggles around and grins. She will repeat this as many times as I am willing to continue playing this ridiculous game with her. Kindu doesn't like it one little bit, often wedging himself beneath my knee and growling every time Star wiggles. Sometimes Gary just looks at the three of us and shakes his head.

So like so many times in life, the challenges of this year has bonded our  small family even tighter together. We've grown to appreciate one another just that much more and to rely on our little rock in a storm, Star Baby.

Gentle, yet strong Star

Let's Go Surfing!

By Linda Grupp Boutin

Recently Gary started calling Kindu "Surfer Boy." This does not mean that our basenji boy has taken a sudden liking to water, rather it refers to how his very thick coat this summer is now highlighted blonde by the sun. His daily sunbaths in Southern Californa has changed his coat color from completely red or white to a nice shade of blonde highlighting the red beneath.

Note the blonde highlights at the back of Kindu's leg!

So our boy has a nickname and Sunday at church a friend said the basenjis are our "fur babies." It was Father's Day and family and children were on everyone's minds. Since we never were blessed with children of our own, our pets get tons of TLC from us. Kindu's favorite outdoor spot is watching out the back gate checking on all the comings and goings of Flora Lane. Sometimes neighbors occasionally give our kids some treats. The dogs are happy, but when they get upset tummies from the unusual food we are not. But it all works out and everyone around us know Kindu's happy "Barooo" when they stop by.

Our fur babies are noticed wherever we go. People see a dog they don't recognize and want to know what they are. Many a passerby has gotten the short answer about our "barkless dogs" and how they clean themselves like cats. Those who show more interest learn about their origins in Africa and how they are only semi-domesticated. The long lecture includes a bit about their pictures being carved into the Egyptian tombs and the fact that leopards kill barking dogs in the vicinity of Africa where they come from now.

So Surfer Boy is enjoying the summer sun and continues to make a splash wherever he goes. I can't imagine life without him and his sister, Star. They bring such joy into our lives, along with the occasional challenges and trials. I guess you could say our pack is now melded together and we are a cohesive unit. Five years with our basenji boy have flown by and I foresee many more happy days ahead. I am so grateful that Our Creator took the time to give us humans the dog. They are one of those creations that make my heart sing, even if a bit off key. Just like Kindu's Baroooo!

Singing in Her Sleep

By Linda Grupp Boutin

Adopting an older dog who has been working as a show dog can be an intimidating experience. Sometimes they are inscrutable and learning their signals and needs frustrating to the extreme. Over time, the adopted dog gains confidence in their new home. They begin to predict what will happen when, what is allowed and what is not, when meals and bedtime can be expected.

We are now 18 months into the saga of bringing Star home and integrating her into our pack with Kindu. She still can be very insecure and unsure of herself despite our best efforts to help her understand that this is now her "forever home." Occasionally she jumps when the unexpected happens or draws back afraid when someone new stops by. So at times I wonder whether she has come to feel at home or not. It makes me sad to realize that she feels so out of place...

After years of having our furry babies sleep beside us, we have seen many dogs experiencing dreams and even nightmares. Most every dog we have ever had will be sound asleep beside us with all four feet twitching and we know they are having a blast running through a field in their dreams. Once in a while we will hear them crying and obviously suffering fear in a nightmare; we always wake them up from those times.

What we had never had happen before the other night assured me that Star is now happy in her new home. Kindu had been restless all night with a tummy ache and the dogs kept waking us up. Then Gary realized that Star was humming as she slept. Now normally she is a very quiet basenji with just a little bit of whimpering when she wants to come in. But this night she was making the happiest and most unusual sounds that we have come to call humming. We let her sleep and enjoy whatever it was she was dreaming about, but it's been obvious that recently she feels more comfortable with the environment we've provided for our little companions.

So the saying goes, "Let sleeping dogs lie," and on this particular night we did let Star lie and enjoy the feeling of finally being at home with Kindu and us.

Basenji Discipline

By Linda Grupp Boutin

     In less than two weeks, we will celebrate the first anniversary of Star's arrival in our household. Over the last year, she enjoyed the retired show dog life, no shows, no puppies, just one slightly eccentric basenji boy to keep in line. At first, she experienced a lot of culture shock. She met other people and dogs on our walks together. She watched Kindu yodel greetings while she had been hushed her whole life. Life's changes left her stunned and confused much of the time.
     One of the first problems we had to address was her inappropriate nipping if someone surprised her. Sometimes all a person had to do was pet her the wrong way and she might fall apart. She had spent much of her life outdoors isolated from other people and dogs and she found integrating in a pack of two humans and one very spoiled basenji boy troubling. Two things calmed her during these challenging early days: resting outdoors on the back patio or sleeping in the safety of her dog crate.
     As time passed Star learned the routine around our house. First thing every morning included a walk around the block with Kindu. During the warm days of spring and summer, she went outdoors to rest on the patio after breakfast, but as the days grew shorter at the end of the year a nap between her humans suited her just fine. Breakfast slowly grew later and later in the day until she learned her big meal of the day arrived after 3 each afternoon followed by another walk. As the sun set, she joined the pack in the living room at first in her own personal dog bed. Eventually she was invited to join the rest of us on the couch.
     For Kindu it has been a year of transition too, much of which he has disapproved. When two dogs reside in a household, nobody gets quite as spoiled as they used to be. Behavioral expectations have increased for our boy. Star wanted to get in the middle of every game, so he plays less and sleeps more. However one of his favorite activities, watching out the front window to see what's going on outdoors, still remains a prime use of his time. Star still doesn't understand the appeal of watching out the window, she is content to take a nap and let the whole world walk by.
     In those first months, I never let the two dogs alone together. I feared a fight might develop and one of them would be hurt. In time, Kindu began to ask to join Star on the back patio for sunbathing together. I monitored their interactions carefully watching for signs of aggression. Interestingly the one place they rarely disagree is outside in the sunshine. I guess there are enough California sunrays to satisfy both of their desires. After 6 months of no outside fights, we dared to leave them both together on the patio when we went out. The first couple of times I felt sure I'd be rushing one or both of them to the vet for stitches, but thankfully they teamed up out there and just kept an eye on the back gate.
     Discipline at our house has tightened up and both dogs are expected to listen up when we ask them too, but mostly we are a happy and healthy pack together. Star still looks confused at times and doesn't really understand at all what all this Christmas fuss has been about. Trees in the house, visitors at the door, all these and more have stretched this basenji girl's patience a bit, but it's been really fun spoiling her a bit while providing her a more relaxed life. She will celebrate her 8th birthday in early January, next week, and I wonder what 2013 will bring to us and our little basenji pack.

Pop's Home

By Linda Grupp Boutin

     Kindu and I played tag today. On a rainy day, the dogs slept, bored on the couch; no sunshine, no sunbaths, no interesting comings and goings to watch on Flora Lane. So I decided to see what the two of them would do if I got down on all fours and started playing with their toys. Naps ceased as soon as I moved and curiosity finally compelled our basenji boy to come down and investigate what I was up to by his stuff.
     As soon as he approached I batted one of his tennis balls at him. He reflexively pushed it back in my direction. Hoping for a game, I sent it back in his direction. And typical of his breed, now that he knew what I was doing, he chose to let the ball roll right past him. Meantime Star watched attentively, ears forward and eyes alert. She decided it was best to sit still and see what happened next. Kindu had decided the ball game was over though.
     He retreated back up onto the couch and I gave up on the floor play and began to chase him, the one game Kindu has never been able to resist. At first, he ran around the dining table quickly getting away from my reach. Then he positioned himself at the opposite end of the table from where I stood. Now I moved just one foot slowly and he kept himself exactly opposite again.
     We continued playing and Star could not help but sit up and take notice. She is still trying to figure out these human to dog games. They make no sense to her in her experience. She understands how to play dog to dog. She play bows to Kindu, but he doesn't seem to understand how she wants to play. In honesty, the only game she only seems to play is run as fast as possible around the house. He has longer legs, but she can turn faster corners. She almost always beats Kindu at chase. But on those occasions when he bests her, he grabs her by the scruff of the neck and she doesn't like that much. It motivates her to run faster the next time.
     Usually dogs seem to communicate just fine with one another, but these two just don't seem to get each other. Kindu acts like a sulky little brother whose sister Star has cooties that he can't stand. Most of the time in the house it is reasonably peaceful between them. Out on the patio they actually seem to enjoy one another's company. All except when Gary comes home in the evening. Then basenji dervish craziness comes out. They tear around the house seeing who can beat whom to the garage door. When it doesn't open fast enough Star whimpers and Kindu chuffs his unhappiness, then they chase each other around the house and dining table circling back to the door hoping for it to open.
     When Gary steps in, the rejoicing begins. Their "Pop" is home and his welcome makes them nearly burst with excitement. He greets them, trying to give them both some attention. But we all four know that Boo is his boy and best buddy. He crowds through their combined legs to set his stuff down on the counter to free up his hands. Petting their ears cements the deal and all are happy again.
     Their unconditional love of their master and effusive pleasure at his appearance always makes me smile. They don't think twice or worry that someone will laugh at their antics. They have just one thing in mind, welcoming their master back into the pack. The joyous reunion makes their day and Gary's too. My more restrained greeting, all too human, can't compare no matter how much I missed my husband that day. But they have taught me to let the people that I care about know that I care about them. They remind me that no one's days are assured and we all better keep our relationships in order every day.
     So how about you? Who do you need to run around the house and jump up and down to say hello to them and that you love them? Take a cue from your little basenji buddies and let those whom you love know that you love them. Go ahead, pick up the phone, give them a call and re-cement your relationship. You'll be surprised how much it will make you feel like wagging your curly tail.

Discovering the Mirror

By Linda Grupp Boutin

     In the last couple of months Star learned about the mirrors surrounding her. While living her first 7 years outdoors, she had little opportunity to discover her reflection. However, if you are going to be a good and proper "Diva," then sooner or later you must take the occasional glance at yourself just to make sure your hair is correctly styled, or maybe in Star's case, your curly tail still has it's bounce.
     She first noticed that other basenji in the house in the mirror in the closet. She followed me in to retrieve the laundry for the washing machine and there she was; giving herself a close examination in the mirror near the door. Hmmm, Star did not really like finding another dog in her house, so I moved the mirror out of sight. Now though she was on the hunt and next she discovered that other dog in the mirror in the headboard of the bed. Yikes, that one was close, but she could detect no scent. She tried to look behind the mirror, but with no real access, I settled her down by turning off the light. No light, no reflection.
     Being a thoroughly observant girl, next she found herself in the mirror in the bathroom above the vanity. Her hackles rose and now I was getting pretty fed up with her overreacting to her own reflection. I sat closely beside her so she could see me as well as the strange dog in the mirror. Now that was confusing! I tried moving various parts of her body so she could see the dog doing the same motions in the mirror. Still she intently stared at that other dog, conveying her complete disdain about it sitting so nearby. Eventually she curled up beside me, closed her eyes and gave up at glaring at herself.
     I recall when I first brought her 5-year-old mother, Noelle, home to our house. She hated the floor to ceiling mirrored closet doors that dominated our upstairs bathroom. After a prolonged amount of staring and fussing over the dogs she saw in the mirror, I resorted to decorating the doors with white Christmas foam for windows until she became accustomed to her new indoor lifestyle.
     We all go through these occasional adjustments to our perceptions. Something drastic in our life might change or maybe we're just stuck doing the same old things over and over. Whatever the motivation, we decide to change our way of looking at the world, adopt a more positive attitude or undertake a challenge to break up the routine. And sometimes when we are truly blessed that fundamental choice to change makes all the difference. My wish for you on this All Hallow's Eve is that you find a new way of looking at the world and that it makes a change for the positive in your life! Dare to peek into that mirror and see what you might discover.

Talkative Basenji Boy

By Linda Boutin


     I joined The Basenji Community: http://www.vorts.com/basenjis/ today. They asked me to link up and it makes sense having enjoyed the company of this unique breed for my whole life. I used to think that I understood basenji vocalizations very well. However lately Kindu has proved to me that most of my dogs, primarily females, barely scratched the tip of the sounds they are capable of making.

Kindu walking near our home

     Lately when my basenji boy is surprised he releases an involuntary woof. One single bark which causes him to turn around and look behind himself to see who is barking in his house. He's never quick enough to catch the culprit at it, especially since the sound emanates from his own throat.

     Kindu always surprises us when we are out on walks and he decides to let out a full-throated BARROOOO. And not just for us either, he uses this technique to gain the attention of other walkers who show the slightest interest in him. It's his way of saying, "Hello, how are ya? Watcha doin?" He has a pretty good vocabulary for a dog! Often this gains him a reward of petting from the new person he's just met.

     Just yesterday he spoke up when we were all walking together. Star and I led the way with Gary's mom following us girls. Next came Kindu straining to get to the front with Gary holding him back keeping him from tripping anyone. Our boy disagreed with this arrangement and BARROOOOED at me to slow down and let himself and his man lead the way. We gathered together at the corner and Kindu pulled Gary into the lead while we crossed the street together. He has strong opinions about who should lead and who should follow.

     His other new sound is what I call "chuffing." This is a guttural sound from deep in his chest that he uses when he is very unhappy about a situation. It usually comes out when Star walks on him or touches him in any way. When he riles her up, she uses the standard dog growl to tell him to back off. But when Kindu is unhappy with her, he sounds like an old man HARRUUUMMMPPPPPING about a small child getting too close.

     So what about you? Have you been learning any new communication techniques lately? Is there a community out there that you should be involved with, but just haven't taken the big step of joining in? One of the reasons canines and humans integrate together so well is that we are both social creatures. How about taking a step of faith and joining a class, a Bible study, or checking out a church where you might find camaraderie with your fellow beings. All of us crave a sense of belonging so next time you are surfing the internet, look for a local group that meets your set of interests. You'll be surprised by the potential rewards just like Kindu when he BARROOOS.

Introductions

By Linda Grupp Boutin

Star just before we brought her home.

So excited about picking Star up at the breeder's, Gary and I only began to think about introducing the 2 adult dogs on our way home from San Diego. First we stopped at our friend, Barbara's, grooming shop. Star needed a bath badly and we were welcomed into the shop for a quick clean up. Bathing her gave me my first chance to really assess her reactions. Like all our basenjis, she saw water as something to avoid if at all possible. Barbara and I wrestled together to get Star cleaned up and dried off. Wow, did she ever smell better and her coat shone after washing out all the dust.

Continuing on toward home, we discussed various possibilities for Kindu and Star's introduction. We stopped at the pet store to purchase a new collar, halter and leash for walking our basenji girl. This time I selected pink because this little one was such a girly girl. We brought her into the store to try on the new equipment. She looked around amazed with all the new scents, sounds and sights. We saw she had never been in a pet store before and the cashier made sure she liked her experience by rewarding her with a tasty treat. Star wolfed it down in one bite.

Gary dropped me off at a nearby park and drove home to pick up Kindu. The plan was to walk him to the park and let him "discover" Star walking with me. Our boy loves greeting other dogs on his walk and at the park we would all be in neutral territory as far as the dogs were concerned. The little girl and I waited sitting at a picnic table while the boys approached. Star watched intently as Gary and Kindu came closer and closer. She knew how to handle herself and feigned indifference when they joined us at the picnic table.

Ahh, contentment...

Our ever enthusiastic boy showered Star with all his attentions. She kept her cool giving Kindu a growl when he gave her a nip on the neck. Very soon her ears totally captured our boy. He mouthed them and she tolerated this silly boy's antics. That is, so long as he didn't chomp too hard! When he did, he received her low growl compelling him to back off.

Soon we were all walking side by side back to the condo and we had crossed our first hurdle with Kindu wanting to know Star better and her wondering what to do with all his enthusiasm.

Getting to Know Star

By Linda Grupp Boutin

Star moved in with us on January 10th this year, officially the oldest dog we ever adopted at 7 years old. And I would be fibbing if I said the road has been free of bumps. We started off with a big advantage because we were there when Star was born and she knew our scent as some of the very first that she learned. When you are a newborn pup, blind and deaf, first and lasting impressions come through the sense of smell. So when we picked Star up, she seemed to have a deep recognition of us.

Star about 1 hour old.

That helped, but plenty of challenges remained to incorporate Star into our "pack." She had been raised to be an outside dog, so the first thing she tried to do was cover up Kindu's scent on our bed. I'll leave some of this to your imagination, but it did involve the washer and dryer...hence the beginning of our housebreaking procedures. She actually caught on quickly once we succeeded in teaching her the new schedule around our house.

Although she was new to us, the vet considered her to be a "senior dog" requiring special older dog precautions adding greatly to the cost of having her spayed. And we had no idea she is a complete and total diva. We knew we faced troubled waters when we arrived at the vet's to pick her up from her surgery. We could hear her objections loud and clear in the waiting room. One thing about an unhappy basenji is that they do not just whine and cry, they scream and Star was very unhappy, maybe even downright angry about the whole thing. Her screams rang loudly in our ears and I've never seen a vet's office so happy to send a patient home!

So Star took out all her pent-up fear, frustration and frantic energy by attacking the cone she woke up to find firmly attached to her head. I would arrive home to find she had found another way to remove this hated appendage. I replaced it over and over onto her head and she looked for more and more ways to remove it. I have never had a dog succeed in removing a cone before, so this was new to me. After we resorted to duct taping the chewed up thing back together again, Star took matters under her control and ate it off of her! Now I was scared she would need another surgery to get all that plastic, tape, etc. out of her stomach. A couple days later I (and the vet) breathed a huge sigh of relief when she successfully passed the remnants out of her system.

And this doesn't begin to address the matter of convincing both dogs to get along--this part of the adventure will be saved for my next post!

Taking the Bumpier Road

After moving to Salt Lake City my husband and I began driving around learning about our new home. We discovered how the double numbering system using longitude and latitude kept us from ever feeling lost as we explored. One bright Sunday morning, we decided to drive out to Park City and spend a day exploring a mine they had converted for tourists. We went one mile underground in the mineshaft elevator to find a drippy, cold and dark environment that we mostly wanted to get out of and away from. Dutifully we rode the little mine cars that took us on a tour of the tunnels, learning all the way about how this mine provided so much to the residents of Utah including the artesian spring that supplied our water. At the end of the tour we rode the elevator back to God’s blue sky above and breathed relief at smelling the fresh mountain air.

This was just the beginning of the adventure however. We got back onto the freeway to travel into the city only to find the most massive roadblock of cars that we’d ever experienced. As we crawled forward at 2 M.P.H. we noticed that many locals were bailing off the freeway and up a mountain road. Having developed too much confidence in our navigation skills, we decided to follow the group traveling in a southerly direction. That’s where we made our mistake.

We had driven our brand new, and unfortunately low-hanging, Mazda to Park City. And what we really should have done was park for a while and let the traffic pass. My husband kept saying there was no problem as the street below us turned into a rutted, asphalt road; into a gravel strewn path; into a dirt trek; and finally into a deer trail as it made its way through the forest. Being the passenger in the car, I growled about every little bump and rock hitting the bottom of it. But when our way turned into a dirt trail with what felt like enormous boulders jutting into our path, I begged him to turn around. Nope, he had the wheel and was determined to bypass the traffic and find a different way. No matter what it did to the bottom of the car!

After forever, we reached the summit of the mountain and a dirt lot where backpackers had parked their vehicles while hiking on the mountain slopes. We proceeded through the area to another dirt road following our group leaders with faith in their knowledge. Eventually we left the rocks and dirt behind and found a real road again. It even took up past Sundance, but every bit of the explorer in me had been bumped and scared away.

We wound up coming out one valley south of where we lived, and found the freeway with little trouble that took us back home. Gary chuckled the whole way about what fun it had been to drive over the mountain with no real road to follow. When we arrived back home at the apartment Rosie barooed us a greeting, her lost wanderers.

Sometimes God’s path for us is a bit rutted too. Maybe the asphalt has decomposed a bit with time, or the way becomes lost in the forest of trees. Occasionally guides are sent that lead us back to find God again. All in all, I believe that almost everything that happens can shed light on our experience of the Lord, whether it be a deep, dark mine that makes you shiver or a non-road that helps you climb a mountain with your husband while all the time inside you’re thinking Grrrr!

Rosie Toes

Mama Bette and her 5 hungry pups

     I picked up the limp, wet body and tenderly cradled it in my hands. With no time to spare, all eyes in the room focused on what I would do next. Bette stared up at me pleading wordlessly for me to accomplish what she could not. I rubbed the newborn puppy with a rough towel hoping it would take its first breath. No luck. As the seconds ticked by I kept working on the pup trying to stimulate that first sign of life. I did not hear the other four pups squealing noisily while I struggled to save their sibling.

Bettenon Gala's Rosebud at 2 weeks

     Rosie, always a bit of a drama queen, made quite an entrance that night. Suddenly she inhaled the life-giving oxygen her body craved the second she separated from her mother, Bette. Now I sighed with relief and began to take stock of the pup’s overall health. A girl, good, that makes three girls and two boys. She was small, probably the runt of the litter, but now trying to wiggle out of my hands. As soon as I made certain the pup breathed freely, I handed her back down beside her mama and let nature take over. Soon she took her first drink of milk.

     Born 1 hour after the rest of the pups, she must have been stuck a while in the birth canal. Gary and our family friend, Phil, had gone out to an overnight grocery for vanilla ice cream to start Bette’s milk flowing. She gobbled it up and we took this as a sign that she had finished birthing puppies. Wrong! As the clock hit 3 a.m. Bette went back into labor and quickly produced this last pup. We all marveled as the runt began pushing the bigger pups out of her way to the milk.

Bette and Rosebud (ages 7 & 5)

     The process started at around midnight and four pups came along in 15 minute intervals. We just about called it a night when suddenly Bette began straining again. We watched for another hour to see if more pups arrived. Rosie turned out to be the last of the litter. Finally sure that Bette and the pups were settled and resting, Phil headed home and Gary and I collapsed into bed. That’s when we noticed just how noisy and squeaky the puppies were. Exhaustion helped us fall asleep as the sun rose overhead. When we woke a few hours later, the first order of the day turned out to be moving the puppy playpen from our bedroom to the kitchen. Now we all could sleep more easily.

     The first day of Rosie’s life we nearly lost her, however as time passed she spent 14 years sharing our home with us. There’s something very special about having a pet be born under your roof and live their entire life with you. “Rosie Toes” earned her nickname because of the wonderful habit she had of dancing around us and greeting us with a basenji baarroooo when we returned home. There are many more stories about these two characters and I hope you’ll stop by my blog again soon to enjoy them.

My First Half-Basenji Girl

                           Ginger loved riding in the car!

     A new dog arrived in my life on my 12^th birthday. Mom said she was a boy, so I decided to name her Baron following Mom’s suggestion. Already well seasoned as a babysitter, something just didn’t seem right about her being a boy. We performed a closer inspection and Mom agreed that Baron wasn’t a boy. She already had thought of a girl’s name as well. She said the pup’s color reminded her of ginger and so my new dog transformed instantly from Baron into Ginger.

     At that time, I was a confused mess of hormones with nine older brothers and sisters. I often felt lost in the crowd. Ginger served as everything from my doll to dress up, to my confidant to share special secrets with, to my walking companion who would return at my whistle. Mom and my brother Steve had discovered her at the pet shop and chose her especially for me. They told me that she was half Afghan hound mixed with something else. My mind’s eye envisioned the very sophisticated looking, sleek sight hound, but my physical eyes told me something different.

     Even as a little pup, Ginger sported button down ears, brown eyes that bore right through you and an uncanny independence that showed up as a slight rebellious streak. Her fur nearest her skin looked tan and was finer than baby hair. This inner coat was covered by thicker guard hairs that started blonde, but at the far end were black as night. Her soft-as-velvet coat kept her comfortable all winter and shed profusely in the spring. I patiently waited for Ginger’s legs to stretch out longer and for her fur to take on the long, luxurious coat of the Afghan hound she was supposed to be.

     As she neared her first birthday, an instinct inside me said there was no way she would ever look like I’d originally thought. Still she had the cutest white socks on all four feet. Her tail curled neatly over her back with a white tip on the end. Her body looked more like a Beagle than anything else; square, solid and well muscled at about 16 inches tall at the shoulder. But I’d known Beagles in my life and Ginger didn’t act anything like one. She was nearly always silent and certainly never bayed at anything the way a Beagle would. One day I came home from school and Mom excitedly told me that Ginger had finally barked while she’d been running the vacuum cleaner. She did have a voice, but not one we heard very often.

     Anytime we’d go to the library or bookstore, I’d search through every dog book trying to determine what breed Ginger might be. A couple of years later, I’d nearly given up. Staring at the pages of one more dog book, my jaw dropped open when I turned a page in the hound group. I looked at the picture quickly comparing size, shape and style of the dog on the page with Ginger’s characteristics. I read quickly through the text below the photo and knew I’d found the source dog for my favorite companion. Ginger was half Basenji! Her coloring and coat were different, but her markings, body type and demeanor couldn’t be denied. My girl was a Basenji and my education about this breed was barely begun.