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.

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!

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.

Big Ears

By Linda Grupp Boutin

     I want to talk a bit about ears, specifically basenji ears. Safe to say, they hear a lot more than they like to admit. Kindu never misses the sound of a nearby garage door opening. He monitors this when he is, by all appearances, sound asleep. He can discern whether it is our garage door, our neighbors’ above, our neighbors’ beside and even our neighbors’ across the street. Each door owns its characteristic squeaks and our boy has memorized the sounds. Sometimes his head shoots up listening carefully, other days he just opens an eye, quickly returning to his dreams. However one sound is never missed by our basenji-boy: that is the sound of our Toyota Camry, distinct to his sharp ears from every other Toyota. Why this interest? Because that’s the sound he expects to hear when Gary returns, always cause for rejoicing.

     I love being greeted by my dogs. Their joy at my appearance never fails to bring a smile no matter how exhausted I might be. Of course, that does not mean that they will use those ears of theirs to listen any better when I ask…or command…or yell…what I want them to do. Kindu is the most tone deaf when he is nipping Star’s ears. The louder I tell him to stop, the more those huge ears of his seen stuffed with cotton.

     Makes me think of myself a bit when God is trying to get through to me. Just when I need to hear the Holy Spirit most, that’s when I close my ears and stop listening. Take this post for instance, I had a clear idea of what to say last Sunday and here it is Saturday night and I’m just typing now and haven’t yet published a week later.

     Thankfully last Sunday on another, more important, matter I not only heard, but also followed through with action. Much to my delight I was provided with instant validation that made a difference in another person’s life. That’s the thing that is so affirming: when you listen, hear, act and see immediate results. It’s like when I entice Kindu or Star with positive rewards (think bacon) and when they respond, they decide listening to me might be worth it. Funny how God provides these small examples of proper behavior for us then waits on us to get His point.

     So back to those ears, Kindu’s are the largest I’ve seen on any basenji. When he would go through one of his growing spurts as a pup, one ear or the other would droop over waiting to be grown into. As soon as he filled out, both ears stood up listening to hear every sound. So let me ask you, how well are your ears working? Have you been following the urgings of the Spirit or those of the flesh? When those promptings come to smile, converse, bypass your own feelings to center on another’s, did you hear and follow through with a God-inspired action? If you did, then I know that you understand the pleasure of a positive reward (think chocolate).

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!