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

Graduation Night

by Linda Grupp Boutin

     Star experienced a special joy in the last week. Gary purchased her a new bed, just her size. We lined it with a towel and our little basenji girl got to sleep in the bedroom with the rest of us. Up until this time, Star had been sleeping in the dog crate, but she has made such progress in the last month or so she got to graduate to her own bed. And last night at bedtime after going for a quick walk with Gary, she literally dragged him back to the bedroom--past the dreaded crate and straight for her bed. She catches on really quickly when she wants to...
     She's been receiving quite a few new privileges lately and it's been paying off for all concerned. Housebreaking complete, nipping curtailed, starting to perform tricks for treats have led to a new level of trust for Star. She and Kindu tolerate each other, although with no signs of affection yet. He sleeps in his bed on my side of the bed, she sleeps in her bed on the opposite side.
     Curly Girl, as she is sometimes called, has learned how to dominate the force of Kindu's personality. With only an occasional growl, she has declared her beds to be her "safe" places. So when the basenji boy is chasing her around and she's had enough, she jumps into her nearest bed and stands her ground. If he pursues her further, she growls very quietly and he tends to back off.
     These may sound like miniscule steps to you, but for a 7-year-old "outside only" dog they mean a lot. She still has moments when she dashes around the house confused about why she isn't being chased outdoors, expecting to be banned from the house. It's at those times, that my heart breaks a bit for the years she spent contributing to the basenji breed. When I saw her beautiful litter of pups, 4 girls and 2 boys, 3 tri-colors and 3 red and white babies, I realized her work was complete. Now she is retired, ready and willing to stretch out on the couch beside us, encouraging us to pet her continually by craning her neck backwards to make us feel guilty with those dark brown eyes if we dare stop.
     Yep, the girl has found her home and she is enjoying every minute of it. She loves the food, works hard to pick up any stray crumb on the floor, sharing daily walks with Kindu, and loving her new life: a lady of leisure who has graduated to her own bed.

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.