A Leg to Stand On

“You gave me strength to stand alone again To face the world out on my own again You put me high upon a pedestal So high that I could almost see eternity You needed me, you needed me…” Randy Goodrum, “You Needed Me” Chapter 33 Regardless of where I landed, I could not escape the fallout from yet another setback. I walked on the opposite side of the street when people approached. At the dog park, I walked the fence line to avoid contact with patrons. The site of a police car at the apartment complex sent me ducking for cover. I watched through closed blinds until the officer left while making sure I had an exit plan in the event she moved in my direction. Public appearances were rare and I spent most of the time at restaurants scanning the room for anyone giving me a second look. Why was I behaving this way? I hadn’t done anything. My dogs served as a conduit to the outside world and the object of my affection. Living alone and single denies one the touch of another being. Scientists have studied the physiological effects of petting dogs in an attempt to qualify the therapeutic value of human/dog bond. Mothers release a hormone known as oxytocin, for example, when nursing their infants. This is said to the glue that bonds a mother to her child and is known as the “love hormone.” Researchers have learned that oxytocin is produced in nearly equal quantities when people pet dogs. I must admit to feeling a wave of bliss myself as I gently stroke Dixie’s velvet fur or rub Oreo’s belly. The bottom line is that we all need to touch and be touched and its effects are not limited to our own species. Dogs need at least thirty minutes of head hanging, tongue dragging exercise each day so the three of us jog at least three times a week. We hike the abundant nature trails throughout Kansas City and walk the neighborhood twice daily, sometimes more. Dixie, Oreo, and I also frequent the many off-leash parks located throughout the Kansas City Metro. Oreo is a “chaser” and a bit of a loner. She’s never met a scent that didn’t intrigue her. I’m guessing she was a hound dog or a terrier in a former life. At best, she is a “wannabe” in this one. If I had a yard, Oreo would have already provided me with an 18-hole miniature golf course in her never ending quest for filet-o-rodent. She’s the dog that will follow her nose for an hour and then look up to discover she is in another zip code. It is for that reason that she stays on leash everywhere but a dog park or fenced yard. Dixie is a social butterfly when she is not ten paces behind me. Children, adults, seniors or anyone with a cookie draws her attention though she never stays long enough to lose sight of me. She abhors ill-mannered dogs and gives a wide berth to the dust cloud that surrounds a canine scruff. Some days she plays the “lion and the wildebeest” game with Oreo. Dixie stalks while Oreo grazes and roots at the ground. At some point, Oreo will look up and go into a casual trot. Dixie springs from the savannah and the chase is on. The pursuit breaks off after about 20 yards when Oreo’s speed elicits a disgruntled “screw you” and both dogs go about their business. Before I leave for work, I stuff a Kong or some treat dispensing puzzle toy for each dog and hide it in the apartment. When your home is less than 800 square feet, you can run out of hiding places pretty quickly. Some days, a Kong can be found in a shoe. I wear a size 13 so space is never a problem. Other times, a toy can be found just under the bed skirting or behind a door. I’ve barely set foot in the parking lot before the search operation is underway. Once retrieved, the process of separating the treats from the Kong begins. To challenge them further, I place a sliver of peanut butter or vanilla yogurt in the Kong and then freeze it overnight. Once the Kong has been gutted, it’s back to dozing which is no doubt followed by a nap. Without me, they are prisoners in my apartment and would surely die of loneliness, starvation or sheer boredom if I were not to return. A person’s departure can trigger various levels of stress in a dog. For an increasing number, being alone can trigger a puppy panic attack known as separation anxiety. Dogs have been bred for thousands of years to be our companions. Is it any wonder that our exodus creates some measure of anxiety? Dixie and Oreo associate my departure with the aforementioned treasure hunt. But to say this ploy has rendered Dixie immune from of any stress related to my exits would be misleading. Dixie was treated to day camp twice a week while I worked in the Overland Park PetSmart store. She was assigned to the front playroom which is visible to the sales floor. Dixie was reluctant to leave me at check-in, looking like a timid child on the first day of kindergarten. She was fine as long as she could not see me. But if my travels took me anywhere near the window facing the sales floor during my shift, she would bark and twirl incessantly until I disappeared from site. If given the choice, Dixie would be at my side 24/7. She can live with being alone and Oreo has been a separation Band-Aid for her along with the trusty Kong toy. But panic sets in once I am spotted. This, along with her occasional bouts of reactivity, is the scratch in an otherwise shiny plate of armor. Dogs need to be trained so I took them to the tennis courts at the apartment complex or a place called Loose Park for various on and off-leash exercises. Dixie has been certified twice as a Canine Good Citizen by the American Kennel Club 2011. In order to earn this American Kennel Club sponsored certification, Dixie had to complete ten obedience exercises flawlessly. I was confident in her ability to sit for a greeting, walk on a loose leash , heel through a crowd, “down” and “stay” but none too sure about greeting other dogs and something called “supervised separation.” In this exercise, I handed Dixie’s leash to an evaluator and left the area for three minutes. During that time, Dixie could show no signs of stress or anxiety other than be mildly curious as to my whereabouts. She would have failed miserably had I been spotted but fortunately the drill required that I walk away. No problem. Dixie even handled the dog greeting well which has always been the case as long as the other dog is not out of control or, heaven forbid, trying to mount her. The late Jim Croce once penned these lyrics about a bar bully that eventually experienced some painful karma. “You don’t tug on Superman’s cape. You don’t spit in the wind. You don’t pull the mask off the ol’ Lone Ranger and you don’t mess around with Jim.” And if I could be so bold to add a line – “and you don’t mount a three legged dog.” A footnote, I am equally proud of Oreo for earning her “Canine Good Citizen” certification. This was quite an accomplishment for a frightened little dog that came to me untrained and under socialized. By no means is this about me. This is about a little dog that faced down her fears and found the inner strength to be more than the sum of her life experiences. She now participates in Rally Obedience, a dog sport where handlers and their dogs walk through a course with 15-20 signs that instruct the team to perform various obedience exercises.