Part 1 - Petite Seraph - My First Purebred Basenji

By Linda Grupp Boutin

I received a very special engagement gift from my fiancee, Gary, many years ago. She had a curly tail, sported a red and white coat, and wore four white socks with a white-tipped curly tail. Sound familiar? Yep, you guessed right. My hubby-to-be gave me my first purebred basenji girl. I named her Petite Seraph and sent her registration paper in to the AKC. I thought of her as my "little angel" and she was so very cute at 3 months old; all wrinkles and loose skin and bouncy energy. As you can tell from the name I selected, I was a classic novice basenji owner with so very much to learn about this unique breed.

At this time, Ginger, my first dog, still lived with me. She was about 10 years old when Seraph arrived and the two of them became friends immediately.

                   Ginger watching the road

Being 1/2 hasenji, Ginger had posed her fair share of problems when it came to training. You could not keep this girl in an enclosed yard because she could jump any fence. She would back up far enough to get a running start, then gallop as fast as possible to where she'd decided to jump over. She continued her run right up the fence until she grabbed the top with her front paws, then hoisted herself to the top, followed by a quick jump over. She taught herself how to do this because the cats next door sat on top of our block wall fence teasing her. The first cat who saw Ginger run up the fence to balance beside them atop the block wall must have been shocked!

So I had gone through tough dog training with Ginger, but couldn't have been more unprepared for a new marriage, in a new town, with a new husband AND a purebred basenji! By the time we married in July, Seraph turned 6 months old and had decided opinions about how she planned to spend her days. We moved to Lakeside in San Diego County and began rehabbing the house we rented while living there. Construction materials rested beside dog food and boxes containing all our possessions. The fighting about Seraph and her bad behavior started before we celebrated one month being married.

We spent one month living on our savings and wedding gifts working daily to put our one bedroom house into good order. Ginger and Seraph watched from the couch while Gary and I tore down layer after layer of wallpaper, repaired and painted walls, hung a new ceiling in the living room and redecorated both the bathroom and kitchen. Soon our little house shone like a new penny and we began to look for jobs. This is when the trouble started.

Fast approaching her first birthday, Seraph's hormones began stirring. Basenjis come into season only one time per year, typically in October. So our girl needed to be protected from getting bred by one of the local male dogs roving the neighborhood. I planned on taking our basenji girl to dog shows and competing, so I took this responsibility very seriously.

While we were away at work, we confined Seraph to the bathroom with the door shut tight. She didn't like this limitation and when I got home from work that afternoon, found our newly repaired and painted bathroom wall shredded by Seraph's iron hard teeth. I sat on the bathroom throne, held my head and cried until Gary got home. When he saw the mess, he roared.

He already had erected a chicken coop on the side of our property and filled it with several hens and a rooster. He decided the solution was to build a dog run and to save on materials connected it to the side of the coop. With no fence around the property, our girls could be safe all day in nice, new kennels while we worked. Yes, the basenji girls were safe, but we could not anticipate what Seraph would come up with next. While we worked, she did too. When I arrived home that afternoon, she had dug a nice, neat tunnel from her kennel into the coop. I found feathers flying, the dog chasing the hens, and half of our hens deceased from Seraph's attack.

This was the last straw, I had to find a solution to getting her behavior under control. This dog, my engagement gift, caused almost all the disagreements Gary and I had in our married life. I wondered whether she was worth all the trouble and strife she was causing. While discussing it with my friend, Mary Jo, she told me of a dog obedience class led by her friend Sam at a nearby mall. A solution to our problem, my iron hard will up against our "little angel's." Our basenji girl would soon be marching off to school!


(see Part 2 for the continuing story)

Singing in the Rain

By: Linda Grupp Boutin

     A New Year always brings a sense of nostalgia for me. Thinking over the many paws that have crossed my path in a lifetime makes me want to sing. I've mentioned before that basenjis react particularly well to positive reinforcement. Lately on the cold and rainy winter days of Southern California, Star and Kindu race to get in their respective crates when they see me pull out the bag of bacon. It seems like the race is now to see who can get their reward first. Gary and I work hard to get their leashes off and open the doors before the dogs crash them open. Who says crate training doesn't work?
     When we return home, the two of them have opposite reactions to our arrival. Star howls her protests that she wants out of the crate. We can't open the door fast enough to make her happy. Kindu, on the opposite hand, relaxes in his crate, stretches leisurely once we open the door, and is thrilled to have gotten a good nap while we were gone. All the better for him to get into mischief once we're trying to settle down and relax after whatever activity we just participated in.
     Many times our girl will watch the boy and observe his actions to see how to react. Kindu enjoys a good song about his antics which I happily sing about frequently. All of my dogs have heard songs from me sung about their names, nicknames and thievery. One of my favorite tunes to sing to is "Wild Thing," because it so aptly describes my favorite breed of dog. Their ears prick forward and listen alertly when they recognize their names cropping up in my unusual lyrics. Things like, "Star Baby is a curly girl, furly girl, silly curl." She knows if I am singing all is well in her world.
     Several years ago, my brother's family came to visit and spent the night sleeping on the fold-out couch in our living room. I got up early to see Gary off to work the next morning, carefully keeping the living room door shut so my visitors could sleep in. However the morning was glorious with the sun streaming in my back door. The birds sang just outside nested in the bougainvillea vines. First I started whistling out the song refrain I heard from the little sparrows. Soon their echoing calls returned to me, mimicking the whistles I sang out. I'm not sure how long this continued, but before I realized it, my brother's voice called out from the living room, "What are you? A canary or Dr. Doolittle?"
     I tried to apologize for disturbing their rest, but I am sure that he remembered me singing to Ginger when we both were kids growing up together. That is just who I am, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with a song playing in my head. Whenever I am alone with the dogs and feeling happy a song just erupts from my lips. It may be a praise song, or an oldie, or a contemporary hit that has captured me, but always the words are adjusted to fit the situation. I love having visitors and reflecting back on my brother's visit, it is no wonder I was whistling while preparing breakfast.
     So how about you, when was the last time you sang out to express your joy, calm your nerves, or praise the Lord's creation all about you? Try it, you might find that it lowers your blood pressure just like petting your furry companions does!

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.

Role Models and Spelling Lessons

By Linda Boutin

Boo Bear

     Have you ever noticed that “dog” is “god” spelled backwards?

     I hear the groans now, “Linda, you are just too into dogs!” you complain. And perhaps you are correct in this assessment. But there truly is something about a love of dogs and animals in general that brings out the best in many of us. Growing up 10^th in a family of 12 children, I always could count on the complete attention of the family dog if I simply showed them the slightest interest. When a household is wracked with the noise level created by 3-5 teenagers, a couple of babies, and a year in which 3 of my siblings had weddings; not to mention the regular occurrences of births, graduations, ball games, solo performances, choir, plays, etc., etc., etc. Let me just say, that it was ever so easy to become lost in that crowd.

     Not so with my four-legged friends. I could call them, take a walk (to get away from the noise), dress them up (while ignoring my dolls), or simply share reading a book with them attentively listening. They captured my heart for as long as I can remember. And even in adulthood, while I stayed home battling pseudo-obstruction, a succession of basenjis sat beside me while my husband marched off to work to support our little family. Even had we been blessed with children, I know they simply would have caught my love of dogs and enjoyed them as well.

     It’s hilarious to me that so many dogs are named anything from Aphrodite to Buddha to Zeus or Hera. I know from these names that I am not the only animal lover who has noticed this weird quirk of spelling. Just how many cats have you heard of named Thor? I used to always name my basenji babies after a place in Africa since that is where their breed originates. However all of my dogs over the years sported many nicknames which they answered to. These days Kindu knows exactly how I’m feeling depending upon whether I call him by his real name (might be in trouble), Boo (good vibes), Little Buck (puppy name that has fallen into disuse), or “The Do” (when Gary and I are discussing his antics). And this list is not comprehensive.

Kindu keeping me company

     Seriously though, when I consider God’s unconditional love for His Creation--humanity, when I remember how He forgives us no matter how far we wander astray, when I realize He doesn’t hold a grudge no matter how I cling to one; it’s then that I know that God placed these little, patient, tail-wagging friends into our lives as an example for our own behavior. Jesus showed us a perfected example of what behavior to strive for, but the pup at my feet gives me the daily reminder to not judge, always forgive, and greet my friends like I haven’t seen them in months. It makes that friend feel special and isn’t that what makes life worth living?

P.S. Gary pointed out to me that this spelling does not cross over to other languages. Something is lost in the translation from English. No matter whether French, Spanish, or German, it just doesn’t work.

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.