Showing posts with label scent hound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scent hound. Show all posts

Friday, September 12, 2014

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!





Monday, September 2, 2013

Part 2 - Little Angel's Going to School

By Linda Grupp Boutin

So a few weeks later, I took Seraph on a car ride to the parking lot at Grossmont Mall. Such a beautiful San Diego night could not have been imagined. Balmy, 75 degrees, with a light breeze, I had no idea what to expect. Sam, a former SDPD dog trainer, gave us a demonstration of all he could teach a dog to do. His big German Shepherd showed off his knowledge of German commands, his daughter's little, white Heinz 57 replicated the big dog's moves in miniature version. Sam kept emphasizing that all this training could be accomplished in just 15 dedicated minutes per day. "And if you can't give your dog at least 15 minutes per day, then you should not even have one!" Hhummpphh, never thought about it that way. Why does school always have to involve a guilt trip?

After the demo, he requested that we return the following week with a training collar and 6 foot long leather leash. Okay, now I had to raise the money for supplies as well as the fee to attend the class! Meantime, Seraph has been trying her best to get into trouble and distract me from what Sam had been saying. He eyed his new students (was that the dogs or the people?), looking at our rag tag line of whimpering, whining, willful pups.

There was a sedate German Shepherd or two, a pair of Golden Retrievers (also not behaving), an antsy poodle, making a total of 20 or so people with their pets. Absolutely no one but me had a red & white, curly tailed, barkless basenji straining at the end of her leash trying to get who knows where...I felt a bit out of place. When Sam walked up to me and said, "A basenji, huh, in obedience class? This should be interesting." He turned on his heel and walked to the next pair of students. This did not give me a feeling of confidence.

Meantime, while we waited for the first class we needed to begin walking our dogs for 15 minutes per day. We were to keep the animal on our left side at all times, keeping the leash loosely in our left hand for corrections, holding the far end of the leash in our right hand. Our dogs were to hold their heads up with no sniffing of the ground. When they did try to sniff, we were to say firmly, "Seraph, no sniff," give a small correction and get them back in the proper position with head up high.

I had invested quite a lot of our food money for the month into this "dog school," so I tried to take the whole matter seriously. I rose at 5:30 to make it to work by 7 a.m. every work day. Then after work I ran home to make dinner, study and get ready for my community college class at 7 p.m. Returned home at 10 and fell into bed to catch enough sleep to make it through the next day. Between working full time and going to school full time at night, my schedule overflowed. Sam might have thought 15 minutes per day should come easily, but for me I had to squeeze other activities to fit this in.

But my success with this dog and marital happiness depended on me completing this commitment. So when I arrived home from work and released Seraph and Ginger from their kennels, the first order of business was to figure out how to put the crazy training collar on, line the Little Angel up on my left side, and march around the yard for 15 minutes trying desperately to keep this little sight and scent hound on a loose leash by my side with no sniffing...our landlords who lived at the top of the hill above our little house must have been laughing out loud watching the proceedings below.

(to be continued)