The Graduate

When we got Ziva, our new dog, we determined to "do things right" with this sweet puppy. We vowed to be good people parents, not succumbing to some of the bad habits we had previously given in to with Tipper.

Among other things, we thought it would be a good idea to take her to obedience class. So, we signed up at our local P*t Sm*rt store for classes. The instructor was a kindly older German woman named (Re)gina. She told us to call her Gina. She spoke with something of an accent, which only gave her instructions the sound of COMMAND as she put us through our paces.

The first week, there were about ten dogs and owners in attendance. One dog was a small pit bull who could not/would not stop barking. Gina took a metal water dish and kept dropping it next to the dog--clang, clang. The dog would startle, stop barking for a bit, then resume barking. There was a sweet looking border collie named Dakota that was so shy and freaked by all the people that she would not look at anyone. She kept her head tucked in next to her person.

Then there were Murphy, a labradoodle who looked for all the world like a big doofy puppy, and Brook, a sweet retriever mix. And of course Ziva. These three dogs were the "big" dogs of the group.

Brook and Murphy

The second week of class we missed because of Ziva's little medical episode. When I called Gina to tell her we would not be there, she said, no problem. Also, she was dividing the class into two groups; would we come next week at 8 p.m. Sure.

So the third week, we went, and found that it was just the three big dogs. Actually, the pit bull was supposed to be there too, but the owner never came back. Maybe he liked having recalcitrant perpetually barking dog.

Each week, the class would begin with a mad tumble of dogs. All three mixing it up, with Brook and Ziva especially liking (and licking) each other. Ziva and Brook seemed to be best friends. Then it was down to business--sort of.

The training focused on SIT, DOWN, STAY, COME, puppy push ups (sit, down, sit again), and WAIT. The difference between "stay" and "wait" is basically that "stay" requires duration, distance, and distraction. You get your dog to sit or lie, you back up to put some distance between you; then you hold for 15 seconds or so, then go back and release the dog. Distraction means you should be able to have the dog stay, even if you walk around it or some other distraction. "Wait" is you walking away from the dog, then calling her to come to you. Frankly, a fine distinction, but maybe there is a point to it.

Finally, there was one magic command that Gina wanted everyone to learn and practice. TOUCH. When you are some distance from the dog, and you want her to come to you, raise your hand overhead, waving, and yell ZIVA, TOUCH. The dog comes running, you grab her collar or leash, say "good touch" and give a food reward. If you imprint this sequence enough, you should be able to use it to bring your dog back to you, if for some reason she is getting away from you, or about to be in danger.

Ziva receiving instructions

Let's just say that Ziva was an easily distracted pupil. Oh, look, there are bunnies in the cage over there. Oh, there's a customer, maybe he wants to pet me. Oh, another dog, I should go say hello. She reminded me of the dog in the movie UP--squirrel! If you have seen it, you know what I mean.

We would go through the paces, she would sort of do each step. She got very good at SIT, and DOWN. OK with puppy push-ups. STAY--well, sort of. For a few seconds. COME--no problem. WAIT--forget it. TOUCH--she was great with that, and we have even used it a few times at home.

The next to last class, when she was supposed to go through ALL the steps, she would not do it. She basically refused every command. Gina was very understanding. Oh, it's the border collie in her. RIGHT. All I see in Ziva is retriever. Her mother was reputed to be a golden retriever., But my suspicion is her mother was a yellow labrador retriever. And, labs can be rascals--loving, yes, but rascals.

So this week was graduation. But, first, there was the final exam. Gina walked around dropping a label on the floor with each step. My heart sank--she (Ziva) had been so bad the previous week. But, like some human students I have known, Ziva seemed to be absorbing even when she wasn't performing.

The final exam

She went from SIT, to DOWN,STAY, and COME. She even did puppy push-ups. Then WAIT--a bit of trouble with that. But she enthusiastically ran to me for TOUCH. In fact, as each dog owner would say TOUCH, Ziva was ready to run to them.

She passed. And got her certificate to prove it. I don't think she's a natural student, but at least we both survived our training.

The graduate!

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P. S. Dakota, the sweet border collie, completely came out of her shell, and was very friendly. Another successful graduate.

Revelation

When I first wrote about our new dog, someone commented requesting regular Ziva updates. Well, I can't promise "regular" ones, but here is at least "one."

We have had our first crisis with Ziva. It did not involve sleeping--that would be the first two nights with her in our house, sleeping in her crate, only crying and yipping until I got up and slept in the same room with her. It did not involve obedience school--we have enrolled her in training classes taught by a no-nonsense, but caring, German woman named Gina. It did not involve meeting other dogs--Ziva is the opposite of the alpha dog that Tipper was. Ziva seems ready to submit to any dog or person. She is an omega dog if anything.

So, what did it involve? Well, delicate reader, it involved a gastrointestinal upset, and the consequences thereof. Whether she had a reaction to a chew bone (one of those commercially made ones--not a real bone), or picked up something while walking that we did not see, whatever the cause, the effects are those most all dog owners know too well.

For a day, we kept making trips to get her outside to empty her intestines. Then suddenly, yesterday afternoon, Ziva also threw up. My immediate reaction--uh oh. Make that UH OH. I know enough to be very cautious about that.

So, we called our vet. My husband relayed the symptoms and the duration, indicating we thought this was an emergency and Ziva should be seen by a vet immediately. PAUSE. In fact, a long pause, while the vet's office put him on hold. For what seemed like 10 minutes. When they came back on the line, they agreed--this is an emergency. But we have no openings, so take her to the emergency vet hospital.

Mind, this all happened around 1 p.m. yesterday. The emergency hospital did not open until 7 p.m. But, the vet office suggested we could drive her to another one not quite an hour away.

We scrambled, and began calling local vets. After about 4 turn-downs, one office agreed to see her in a couple hours. Thus began our revelatory adventure.

The new vet office is as close to where we live, if not closer than our current vet office. It seems very well-organized, with friendly helpful staff. We waited in the outer area about 5 minutes before we were called in (our usual wait is NEVER less than 15 minutes). The vet was young, and wonderfully friendly.

First revelation--there is a better vet office nearby.

She did the usual initial diagnostic things--taking Ziva's temperature, listening to her heart and lungs, checking her mouth, eyes, and giving her a general once-over. She laid out the possibilities of what might be a problem. Of course, she listed the one thing we were most concerned about--some kind of blockage. She suggested doing an X-ray, and we agreed.

Here comes the second revelation.

When the vet and Ziva came back in the room, the vet said--well, we found no blockage but we found something else really unusual. She went to the office computer, and pulled up the two X-ray images she had taken. She showed us the side view of Ziva's innards--her small intestine, her stomach, her colon (full of gas), and then she showed us two bright spots above the small intestine. She repeated this viewing with the top view. Same bright spots.

Then she said--did you know that Ziva has been shot at some point in her life. Those are two BBs or pellets or maybe even bird shot.

Oh my. I think I stood there for a moment with my mouth open. Then, I told the vet the brief history of Ziva, including her provenance from Kentucky. (I think I detected a slight knowing look in the vet's eyes--as if all dogs in Kentucky are shot at one time or another.)

So, there you have it. We have a shot dog. The pellets are likely lodged somewhere in tissue and could not be found easily if at all with surgery. They are seemingly not the cause at all of the digestive distress. For that, the vet gave us two prescriptions and some sensitive stomach food for a couple of days.

Ziva is doing fine, a day after her emergency vet visit. And we are convinced that it's time to switch which vet practice we take our pets to.

Nothing like an emergency to reveal things to you, is there?