The "Forever" Teenager

By Linda Grupp Boutin

Ecclesiastes 3:4 A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance.

Kindu turns 7 years old this December. Funny how it seems like just yesterday when we drove up to Wrightwood to pick our new puppy from a litter available up there. Both Gary and I were downtrodden, depressed and defeated. We had endured 2 full years of assaults on my health, problems with jobs, losing 2 pets in less than 5 years. We had become sedentary since the death of Noelle a year earlier. We just needed some joy in our lives.

So when we went to church on Sunday and Pastor Brian read to us about the seasons of life, I became infected with the thought that we needed a season of joy in our lives. We had fallen into the doldrums with seemingly no way out of them. On the way home from church, I dared to open the subject with Gary. It was the right time of year, early February, just when basenji pups grew old enough to be adopted by families.

Snow lightly fell around us as we looked over the pups in the back of a small pick up truck. While I struggled with such an odd situation to choose a new pet from, Gary asked which was the pup we could afford from the owner. She selected a lively pup from the exuberant litter. Without a second glance, Gary tucked the little guy inside the pocket of his jacket. 

Kindu's first day with us

I objected that I wanted to see this 8-week old pup, but Gary pointed out that the short-haired basenjis were all shivering in the cold. Absolutely true! So I passed the cash to the much relieved owner along with our contact information for her to send his papers to us when they arrived. And before I knew it, we were headed down the 15 freeway south, our new basenji boy proudly standing in my lap, his forepaws on the dash, watching 18-wheelers driving past with no distress whatsoever. I contemplated how the owner had shared with me that this guy's litter name was "Truck." Hmmpphh, he certainly seemed to like big trucks and big noise.

He loved the new-found speed a car ride provided him. He had no intention of laying down and taking a nap, not this boy. He was totally into this new experience and lapping it all up, thirsty to embark on life away from his mom and litter mates. I chuckled as I kept his wobbly legs steady and sat amazed that he was so animated for a young pup. 

We didn't want to go home, so we drove over to my brother's house to introduce him to the family. Everybody welcomed our little ball of energy, especially our nephew, Alex. Kindu didn't know how to navigate the ceramic tile floors at first. But Alex got down on the floor with him and soon was laughing as Kindu grabbed various parts of this new, fun litter mate dragging him around the kitchen. Then he went to grab Alex by the hair. That's when we decided it was probably time to take this rambunctious basenji boy home for a nap.

Checking out the new scents at home

Kindu has enlivened our lives for the last many years. He makes us laugh almost every day. He also drives us to distraction with his demands daily as well. Last Saturday he gave me a particular scare when he bolted out the back gate when I opened it to bring the trash cans back inside. He disappeared in an instant and the temperature outdoors topped over 100 degrees. Star escaped as well, but after a short foray into a neighbor's open garage door, she returned to me when I called her. I secured her safely behind the gate, much to her dismay, ran inside, grabbed my purse and keys and headed straight for the car. I know my boy all too well.

The appeal of a car ride never left this boy, so I began driving slowly through the neighborhood looking for our wanderer. I had caught a glimpse of him tearing down the middle of Flora Lane. I prayed that he avoided the hazard of being hit by a car as he made his madcap run through our streets. The further I circled away from the house, the more worried I became that our boy was in trouble. Rounding a nearby corner, I spotted him greeting a passerby who seemed most amused with his antics.

I gave a shout of his name and opened the car door and before I knew it he jumped onto my lap and into the back seat. He took up his usual navigator spot, front paws resting on the armrest between the two front seats. I kept him carefully confined in the car until I had the garage door secured behind us. Amazingly he agreed to enter the kitchen door instead of giving me a merry chase around the garage. His first stop was the water bowl beside the back door. While I let Star in to join us, he drank the dish down to the bottom. Oh yeah, it had been very hot out there for running like a wild man through our area.

I noticed a bad limp on his left foreleg as he walked into the great room and plopped on the floor. Though he had seemed just fine when I picked him up, closer examination showed all four paws burned badly by the hot asphalt and an extremely sore shoulder. I doctored up his feet, trimmed off the torn skin, massaged his shoulder to ascertain nothing was broken. He was slower than normal for a few days. The pads on his feet healed quickly with a little antibiotic cream. But the whole experience shook me up quite a bit.

The hardest thing about loving dogs is their shorter lifespan than us. We are our dogs forever homes, but they are granted only 10-15 years with us (if a car doesn't get them). Kindu has always had lots of health challenges because of his headstrong nature and a weak digestive system. His madcap run reminded me that I am granted only so many days with this little friend of mine. And it reminded me to thank the Lord for my many blessings and the very special blessing of our Kindu boy who will always be our "Forever" Teenager.

About how tired he looked after his run in the sun!

Memories, Pictures, Finally Home

By Linda Grupp Boutin

Now that Star has lived in her "forever home" for over 2 years, she finally is gaining confidence and security in her new-found lifestyle. She greets visitors to our home with no shyness, usually encouraging the newcomer to spend some time rubbing her ears and petting her. She used to shy away and take her time deciding if someone new was safe or not. Now that behavior is limited to walks when strangers approach her too quickly.

Star keeping watch!

 After living outdoors her whole life, she now enjoys 2 beds just for her (not at the same time), along with lounging on the loveseat, jumping on the couch, and best of all snuggling with the pack on the big bed. Not that she ever wants to get under the covers. She roasts down there! Besides she must always keep her head out, ever vigilant for the opportunity to get petted. 


Gary calls her everything from "skin" to "carpet" because she clings so tightly to us that we cannot breathe. She loves being with her people and most especially with her Pop whom she adores. It is amazing to watch the transformation from a show/working/mother dog to a retired and relaxed house dog. This basenji girl now tears around the house at top speed, faster than Kindu when she turns her fastest of reverses. Leaving the basenji boy looking over his shoulder saying, "Where'd she go?"

Lately she has developed a new way to surprise her basenji brother. She rounds the back of the dining room table, but instead of following his normal path around the opposite end of the table, she takes a quick left turn underneath the first chair and pops out the other side, wagging her curly tell and virtually shouting, "Surprise!" I love when she steps up to greet me when I walk through the door, her cinnamon roll tail flipping from side to side. I can't help but smile and say hi to my little girl.

She is my role model for setting the challenges of the past behind and moving happily to embrace the moment. Gary and I often chuckle about the concept that dogs can only remember the past for 15 seconds. Tell that to Kindu every time we pass the bush that he once flushed the orange tabby cat from! Ha, my dogs have long memories when it comes to hunting or remembering where they left their bones.

Star Baby "eating up life" as a pup.

Yet Star has moved beyond those painful memories of her past, longing for more closeness, more time with her people, more living. Yep, my fur babies never fail to teach me the importance of life's lessons and how to live more fully, basenji-style!

Dancing Toes, Bumps and Play Bows

By Linda Grupp Boutin

Recently a new routine has developed in our household, especially when the dinner hour approaches. After spending a day basking in the California sunshine, the basenjis decide it is time to come in and look for dinner. First a polite scratch on the back door, soon followed by more and more insistent scratching, finally if they don't get the desired response long scratches down the screen on the nearest window compelling me to run to the backdoor to save what is left of it.

Let the entertainment begin! The second the door opens, Star and Kindu tumble in racing one another to get inside and flop down on the carpet in front of the couch. Entry achieved, now it is time to pursue kibble-filled bowls after a big drink of water. If I dare tarry, Star soon bows politely to Kindu inviting him to play a game. He bounds up and rushes over to join in the fun.

To me, this game looks very little like fun. First he wraps his mouth around her neck. She bends down to grab him by any foot with her own bite. Frequently she tumbles to the floor, he tries to take advantage of his top-dog position, and she shoves him forcefully off and back, all four of her feet pushing. She jumps up off the floor, play bows again, looks over her shoulder coyly and says with a coquettish look, "I dare you to try it again!"

Kindu jumps back into action going for a different hold, Star spins in a circle and dashes off leaving him sucking air and wondering what she will do next. Sometimes the whole game explodes in fast running around the room and through the whole house if the bedroom doors are open. Up onto the bed, whip around in a circle, race back up the hallway, jump onto the couch, scramble over to the love seat, do a couple laps around the dining table, then pause for a drink side by side at the water bowl.

I begin to wonder if their dinners will do them any good considering how quickly they are working off the calories. I must admire the grace and fluidity of their movements. Star dances circles around Kindu who is very fast in his own right. Always having been a bit of a clutz, watching the furry kids show off their stuff bring smiles and laughter to my lips. And no matter how tough my day has been, my little companions remind me of the important things in life.

To them, dinners are worth dancing for, fun should be shared with those you love, and mischief keeps our all-too-human pride in check. These little friends invite me to keep life in perspective, to be thankful for the gifts God grants me, and to be take joy in every moment I am granted.

We Go Round in Circles

By Linda Grupp Boutin

Lately my thoughts wandered to one of the basic differences between canines and humans. We tend to be linear creatures; we stand up straight, we lie down in a line, when we sit we form an angle. Canines conversely are quite circular in inclination. They run in circles, they like circular beds versus our rectangles, they lie down forming a circle often with nose covered by tail. And when they choose that special place to take a nap, they must turn a minimum of three circles before plopping their bodies down. Some require many more before trusting the surface to hold their weight.

So if humans are linear in nature and canines circular, what difference does it make? I want you to think about the impression another person would make on you if they chose to circle their chair three times before sitting down? You might think they were indecisive or even a bit odd. Yet every time Star chooses to turn from three to five circles before lying down I find myself smiling and sometimes laughing over her shenanigans.

Kindu dancing circles at 8 weeks old

Kindu cracks me up all the time, his circular nature brings us back to the same thing more times than I can recount. His favorite game is running fast around the dining room table. He likes this because he can keep just enough space between himself and us that he can tease us. Almost daily he runs off with a sock, paper towel, Gary's cap or a potholder and plays keep away around and around and around again, circling the dining room table. The mischief and delight shine brightly from his eyes as he makes his humans run in circles, abandoning their all-too-human straight lines.

When you watch a predator, whether canine or feline, chasing prey in the wild, you will notice that rarely does the chase go in a straight line. Whatever is being chased makes fast turns attempting to evade tooth and claw following way too close behind. Although our clocks are round, we measure time in a linear fashion as well with well-defined pasts, presents and futures. As 2013 draws to a close and a long calendar of 365 days loom ahead in another straight line for 2014, it may just be time for us to take a lesson from our canine buddies.

It's funny because Kindu's sense of time is not at all circular. He is purposeful in how he uses his time. He lives not in an hour, or minute, or second, but confines his sense of time to NOW. The past is the past for him and he gives no consideration whatsoever to the future. NOW might be a good time to take a walk, to check out what is happening in front of the house, or the perfect time for a sunbath on the patio. He never has a failure of a year or a day or even a minute, no regrets. He stays in the moment without holding a grudge about anything or planning events for the future.

As a result, he (and every other dog I've lived with) lives a contented, happy life. He never gets caught in the circular arguments about should haves or could haves. I, on the other hand, judge myself nearly daily and let it be enough said that I rarely measure up to my own standards. 

So maybe I should start turning circles when selecting my seat versus when analyzing my past, present and future. Learn to live in the moment and put a stop to the circular dissatisfaction with my life. It is no wonder Kindu and Star almost always are in good moods, after all, they do live with "straightforward" humans. Watching us go around in circles must be amusing for the dogs to watch.

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.

What We Need

     The Dog Whisperer, Cesar Milan, repeats over and over that dog owners receive the dog they need, not the dog they want. It seems a bit backwards, a shy person owns a boisterous dog, an outgoing person lives with an animal who is timid to a fault, and a low energy couple pick out the highest energy pup from the litter and learn just how hard it can be to train a dog. I ponder this idea: that we get in life not what we want, but what we need. Sounds suspiciously like the way God sometimes works in our lives.

Kindu relaxing on my feet

     I have a self-concept that includes a good knowledge of how to get my dog to do what I want them to do. Some might call this training. When I first received a full-blood, AKC, registered basenji from Gary as an engagement gift, I anticipated no problems whatsoever training her. Petite Seraph (French for Little Angel) arrived in my home at 4 months old. I had trained Ginger, my first dog, by instinct alone. Ginger still lived with me, but neither of us could fathom how to get Seraph to do anything we wanted her to do. What I didn’t realize was that as a pup, Ginger spent most of her day with my mom while I was away at school. That well-honed instinct that I thought I had, had all along enjoyed the helping hand of Mom who had a lifetime of experience with dogs.

     Suffice it to say that the “little angel” basenji girl nearly drove Gary and me to divorce in the first year of our marriage. That is until I met Sam Kahua and enrolled Seraph in his obedience class. He laughed out loud when he saw a basenji standing in line that first class. And although she was a stubborn dog, I have won awards for my perseverance too. Every class and every training session became a battle of strong-willed females. Me, determined to train this dog to behave, Seraph, determined to remain the “wild thing” that I’ve heard basenji means in Swahili. Sam stood amazed when we both graduated his advanced class with my “little angel” heeling off leash and following my every command.

     Today, 35 years later, I’ve learned quite a bit about convincing basenjis to listen. However, Kindu recently realized that Star has come to stay. And he’s not too happy about her stealing the limelight from his life on occasion. Most importantly to him however, is sharing his man, Gary, with a girl. Simply put, he doesn’t like it and is at a total loss about what to do about it. Most of the problems arise in the evening when the pack comes together in the living room to watch TV. Kindu always took up his position between Gary and me and all was right in his world. Nowadays there is quite a bit of shuffling going around.

     Star’s arrival calmed Kindu considerably. Although just as enthusiastic about walks and visitors, his demeanor is more adult now. He is approaching 5 years old and I expected to see him mature, but the lack of some of his mischief creates a sense of loss for me. The loss of puppyhood I guess, although I find it hard to define. Funny how life is, when he was so full of himself I kept asking when he would grow up. Now that he no longer grabs a cell phone or opens drawers to remove sweaters, I miss the little guy who could always make me laugh out loud…not necessarily the dog we want, but somehow the dog we need.

Turn About--What???

Kindu keeping my chair wa

By: Linda Grupp Boutin

     Even after decades living with basenjis, they keep teaching me new things about the breed. Most recently Kindu taught me a new trick. So you’re asking, the dog taught the human a new trick? And I would answer: of course he taught me a new behavior. It’s not the first time this has happened. Rosie Toes received her name after she taught me that if I didn’t fill up her food dish by 5 p.m., I could expect her to dance around the room until she gained my attention to go to the kitchen and feed her. Others of the breed taught me all about when I should open the door using various cues to tell me their desires. Mostly all these dogs taught me how I was to respond to their needs.

     Kindu has turned this completely upside down. Ever since we had to patch holes in walls and purchase replacement furniture turned into chew bones, we have taught our basenjis that their crate was their “safe” place. In other words, we were protecting them from our wrath when we returned home to find destruction wreaked by our bored pets. It’s amazing what this iron-mouthed breed can chew through when they put their minds to it.

     So on his very first night, I taught our basenji boy that his crate was to sleep in and I lay on the floor beside him trying to lull him to sleep. That is, until Gary came out to the living room and convinced me to let Kindu sleep near us in the headboard of our bed. We all got a good night’s sleep and I continued working on his training the next morning. One thing he could always count on though was that if we both went somewhere, Kindu would be confined to his crate.

     As a result, he has never learned to be a destructive chewer like so many basenjis are. All he’s ever chewed up included a potholder and one of Gary’s baseball caps. So recently when he gave us more than the usual guff about going in his crate, I decided to desensitize him by providing positive reinforcement when he went in his crate. In other words, I bribed him.

     So last Wednesday night I was surprised to see our boy sitting behind me while I was getting ready to go to the Aspiring Writers’ Forum, a writers’ group I co-lead with my writing buddy, Coleene. My shock grew out of Kindu’s unusual behavior. Normally if he senses that we’re leaving, he hides behind the far end of the dining room table and leads us on one of his merry chases before acquiescing and agreeing to go in his crate. Not this night though, a strategically placed piece of bacon treat had been beckoning to him from inside the crate and he was waiting for me to follow him up the hallway and open the door for him to enter and enjoy his treat. No muss, no fuss, just a boy happy to go into his “safe” and “tasty” place.

My Earliest Memory—Puppies Under the Porch

Mom on porch in Bellevue, Washington

     I looked out my bedroom window hiding behind the curtain trying to keep from being seen myself. My mother had laid me down for a nap and I was supposed to be napping. However, I knew Mom’s routine and suspected that she was just outside the front door chatting with Pete Jacobson. The skies outside my Bellevue, Washington window looked clear and free from rain this afternoon. As I peeked, I saw her with our landlord. This was my cue that I could play in my room without being discovered. They would be busy talking for a good long while past experience informed me.

      I found one of the colorful picture books sitting on the shelf and opened it to the first page. I smiled at the picture of the dog bounding across the page, but squinted as I puzzled over the black squiggles that marked the bottom. With all of my nine other brothers and sisters at school or work, I had no one to decipher the strange markings in the book. I understood what the pictures meant, but what were all these little marks supposed to mean. I couldn’t wait until my big sis, Pam, got home from school and could read me this book once more. Meantime I walked over to the toy box and found my little stuffed dog. I made him jump the way I saw the puppy jumping on the page opened on my bed.

Linda at 2 with big brother Steve

     Returning to the box I found my little girl doll and placed her beside the dog and book. I guided the doll’s hands to caress the puppy and pretended I was outside playing with the puppies just outside under the back porch of our house. How I wished it wasn’t naptime so that I could run outside and play with the dogs while I had them all to myself. But I knew that if I ventured out, Mom would simply usher me back upstairs and into bed for the dreaded nap time that I hated.

      I lay down on top of the covers, leafing through the pages enjoying the pictures and scowling at the letters that made no sense to my 3-year-old eyes. My mind drifted as my eyelids became heavier and heavier. I roused momentarily listening to the birds singing outside and glanced out the window for the source of the sound. Mother knew her babies better than they did themselves. She knew I needed a nap and that fighting me on it would just bring out my stubborn streak. If I’d still been awake, I might have seen her glancing up at my window looking to see if her youngest daughter (at least until Deb was born) could be seen or not.

Linda peeking out from under her bonnet

      Soon enough sleep overtook me. Mom poked her head into my bedroom and saw the scene I’d scattered around myself. She shook her head when she saw the open picture book about dogs, the stuffed animal and the doll still clutched in her sleeping daughter’s small hand. She could have guessed this would be what she would find. Mothers know best!

The Flying Leap of Faith

Kindu's 1st day home--8 weeks

     I did it again and could hardly believe it myself. I adopted a new puppy, convinced not just myself it was a good idea, but somehow my husband supported me in this impractical idea. As I waited on the bed for the intravenous hydration solution to finish infusing, I watched out the window as Gary played in the backyard with our newest family member, Kindu. Who would have believed it—a basenji that retrieves! Never in 40 years of owning basenjis had I ever seen one fetch more than a few times.

     Watching, it was easy to see Gary’s middle age drop off his shoulders, like a cape flung away on a warm spring day. He smiled and laughed as the little dog dragged the stick under his body, trailing a good eight inches behind him. It made me laugh just to watch. I thought of my inspiration for why this was the right year to replace our last basenji, Noelle, after 15 months with no pet. Pastor Brian’s message on Sunday about the song in Ecclesiastes (put to music by the Birds) hit home, a time for joy.

     That’s what a dog brings into my life, laughter.

     What’s that? You never heard of a basenji! I hear that every time my dogs come up. Dyed-in-the-wool basenji fan that I am, it’s hard for me to fathom not knowing about the breed. It’s just the best kind of dog in the world for me—doesn’t even bark. That doesn’t mean they aren’t great watch dogs, they just go about it in their own quiet way. Well yes, they are a tad bit stubborn, maybe even persistent to a fault. They want their way about everything. And yet, they are such characters that I can never resist them.

Always jumping and playing

    Gary bellowed as Kindu grabbed one of the ties he was using to erect a puppy fence to protect the tomatoes we anticipated planting. First the 13-pound pup runs past the window with a work glove in his mouth. He frolicked by so proudly, trying to grab Gary’s attention by stealing something. Then 6-foot-3 Gary runs past trying to catch the little guy and retrieve it, bad knees and all. I had to hold my breath to keep from laughing out loud at the sight. The sight of them made it easy to remember now why I trusted God that this was His perfect moment to bring a puppy back into our lives.

Trusting God, that’s always a tough one for me. I’d like to think I can do it on my own, independent and all that. However, deep inside I know that everything and anything that comes into my life is simply a blessing from God. Even the health tests that I don’t like so much that have preserved me from a terminal, debilitating disease; even with God’s grace to prosper when I followed His Way versus trying my own path. Purchasing the pup was a leap of faith that God wouldn’t have made dogs so important in my life without good reason. My doctors had advised me to replace my dog as soon as possible. Yes, there is a plan, just not the plan I’d laid out—but the one the Lord has mapped out for me.

By the way, this is Kindu II. Our first Kindu came into our lives as a Valentine’s gift too. I met that first Kindu when he popped out of Gary’s coat pocket one afternoon when he picked me up to go home from the hospital. Ahh, but that’s another story!

Hard day of work in garden

As I watched, Kindu II literally flew through the air, all four running feet off the ground, circling around Gary as he hauled the extra dirt from the garden. Yes, indeed, God provides everything we need in abundance, even models of flying leaps of faith.

4/3/2008

Why Basenjis?

Our basenji-boy, Kindu, relaxing on the couch after a good game of fetch.

A few days ago I walked my dog as usual.  We weren't alone, but had a neighbor walking with us.  Seeing me struggling to get my basenji boy to walk properly, the friend asked, "Why do you want to have a basenji?"  Now this is a good question because they are a difficult breed of dog to train in the best of times.  I know the answer to this question. It's because of their strong will, some might even call stubbornness, that I find them appealing.This isn't your average sit-stay-down dog. To achieve obedience, you must have a special relationship with these characters.

Simply stated, these dogs are survivors.  Although there are pictures of them in Egypt dating back to the time of the pharaohs, they nearly disappeared altogether.  A British adventurer discovered them living with one tribal group in Africa in the 19th Century.  In the 20th Century a few foundation dogs of the breed made their way to the United States. I lucked out and received my first half-basenji in the 1960s. I've been learning about them ever since and enjoying their special company all along the way.

Kindu retaught me the latest lesson just yesterday: "If he wants attention, he will find a way to get your attention, good or bad."  I've been fighting a cold and have had very little energy and not much interest in playing ball with my dog. Most of the day he was content to lay beside me and take a nap. There comes a witching hour however when Kindu decides it is time to play. That hour usually comes in the late afternoon when sunset fills the sky. Yesterday I sat on the bed folding laundry and could see that he wanted to play while I wanted to finish my chore and lie down. Guess who won this tug of war? First I had to chase him around the dining table to retrieve my socks he'd grabbed from the basket. It became a great game for him to try and grab anything to make me run after him.

Finally I had the clothes safely tucked away in the drawers and collapsed on the pillows with a cough and sigh of relief. Now Kindu got to work in creating a ruckus. First he started digging in his dog bed beside me on the floor. I got up and shooed him away from the activity. He bounded over the bed and ran out into the living room. I reclined again hoping he'd behave himself. Within a minute I heard him opening the dresser drawer. Yes, he knows how to open every drawer in the house when he chooses to. I rolled to the other side of the bed to see what he was up to and discovered the little scamp had my husband's sweater drawer open and was pulling Gary's favorite red sweater out with his teeth. I jumped over and removed his teeth from the knit, firmly closing the drawer and shooing him away again.

Now my cell phone rang and Kindu cocked his head to one side when he heard Gary's voice on the speaker phone. Soon the master would be home and the dog took this to be a sign to play in earnest. Well for the next twenty minutes while we awaited Gary's arrival, the games continued with Kindu favoring opening the sweater drawer over and over to my distraction. I was happy to turn "The Wild Beast" over to Gary when he arrived. My husband calmly pulled out one of Kindu's toys and began a game of fetch. Rather than returning the toy to Gary, our boy decided that I would no doubt love to join in the game so he brought the toy to me. Instead of screaming or crying, I simply laughed and sent the toy flying back out to the living room where Gary stood. Yep, when he's ready to play or walk or most anything else, you'd better be ready to participate because he's going to make sure you do one way or the other.

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.