More Wisconsin Dogs

Okay, so I’m going to have to come back and describe Sophie, Uncle Scary’s second dog some other day. She’s a very mysterious hound so I’m having a hard time putting words to her.



In the meantime, you should meet Latte, Tango and Annie, who live with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Waunakee, Wisconsin.


(photo by my uncle, aren’t they sweet?)

Buzz and I stay with them for a few days almost every time we go to Wisconsin.
Buzz loves all of their dogs, but most of all, Latte. Latte is a HUGE Labrador retriever than my uncle got for free from some backyard breeder when she was a little pup. (I do try to get them to go the shelter route, but they’ve yet to do it…maybe next time). Latte is physically kind of a mess, she’s too big and just not built right; I’m so used to the way Buzz moves and jumps and springs around that Latte’s slow lumbering ways can be rather painful to watch.


Uff da.

Latte may have bad joints, but Latte has a heart of gold.



She is by far the most playful of the three dogs and she truly loves Buzz.


When I am able to get a second dog, this is the sort of pairing that I will be looking for: Latte is a good compliment to Buzz because she plays with him and keeps him company, but never amps him up and generally has a calming effect on him.




The other lab in the house is Tango. Tango is an old dog with a busted elbow. When Buzz is whipping around the house with Latte, she finds a safe corner and stays in it. Tango is lovely and mellow and an affection sponge.



When I was last in Waunakee, I decided to get all of the dogs to line up in “sits” for a picture. Tango did it once and then retired to the TV room, so by the time the younger hooligans had their act together, she was fast asleep. Oh well.



By the way, my cousin informed me that there was *no way* I was going to get the dogs to line up. But, she was wrong. This only took about 2 minutes and 10 pretzels!

That little dog on the end is Annie the pug. Annie is one crazy bitch and the boss of the big dogs. See, here she is telling Buzz that she has not authorized this play session.



Annie has been teaching Buzz to stand up for himself because she likes to get in his business and start fights with him. Buzz then has to tell her to back the heck off, which is noisy but non-violent.



My cousin walked in on Buzz and Annie having a problem one evening and immediately yelled at Buzz. Which was a shame; because Buzz was doing exactly what he should be doing: protecting himself from another dog’s attack. I told my cousin “No, it’s really not Buzz” and then when Annie started in on Buzz the next day, my cousin got to see this for himself. My point being: if you don’t know who is to blame, don’t blame anyone, just tell the dogs to freeze, or quiet, or yell “hey!” Yelling at the wrong dog can make the problem worse. What is Buzz supposed to do? Let Annie chew off his face? Buzz is three times Annie’s size, but that doesn’t mean she should be allowed to hurt or harass him. Buzz makes no moves to dominate or hurt Annie, he just protects himself.

If Annie can’t be peaceful, we generally put her in time-out; usually, just telling her that you are on to her works wonders.


(misleading, no?)

It is interesting to see those two try to sort their relationship out. It is, perhaps, Buzz’s most complex canine relationship. They can spend hours and hours together in peace and then *BAM!* Annie will go off. Those vicious pugs, you never know when they are going to snap!

Annie says "I'm not a pug, I'm a pirate! ArrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"

Castro

On December 9, 2007 I promised to blog about Uncle Scary’s dogs. And then I didn’t. Until now. : )

I will start with Castro because Castro was my brother’s first dog and the first border collie (mix?) in our family. Castro is about 7 now. My brother got him from the Humane Society when he was just a tiny thing--a biting, whirling dervish of a puppy.

I don’t have any pictures of Castro’s youngest months, but by all reports he was adorable and a complete terror. I first met him when he was between six months and a year…



He's such a handsome boy and so very intense.



These are the best pictures I’ve ever gotten of Castro, because sometime between this meeting and the next, Castro learned to HATE CAMERAS. Now, I can get a picture of Castro only after I talk to him a bit about it and show Castro that my camera does not have a flash. (Yes, Castro is that smart. His vocabulary is much bigger than any other dog I know. Don’t act like Castro doesn’t know what you are talking about, big mistake.)

This is what you get if you try to snap a photograph of Castro. He will foil your plan and then tell you off.



He’s hiding his face, moving his paw in a motion that pretty clearly means ‘put it down’ and he’s yowling at me. He’s a well-named dog, the dictator.

Anyway, with effort, I can get Castro to hold still and look at the camera for a shot or two. His tolerance is low, so I don’t get a chance to fiddle much with the camera to get the effect I’m after; I also can’t move around much or Castro will move away. Basically, Castro doesn’t really want his portrait taken and will only appease me for 5 seconds once a week when it comes to the camera. So, I get snapshot quality stuff only. See...



....okay, so this photo doesn't totally suck, but Buzz would have let me clear out all that stuff in the background or move him to a more scenic place; Buzz would also let me pull his front paws out to produce some less walrussy shots. But, Buzz is full of fuzz and Castro is...not.

Castro, as an adult, is pretty much the raddest tyrant around. He's very calm and contained and totally the boss of you. And you. And you. And your little dog, too.

The coolest thing about Castro is how entirely devoted he is to Uncle Scary.



Look at that face!!!! And no, Scary does not have a cookie, Scary IS THE COOKIE. It's like this all the time with these guys.

All this love for Scary combined with Castro's smarts and dictatorial tendencies lead to some really funny stuff. Like, while we were at the farm, Scary was doing a lot of fishing. Castro curled up in the long grasses just behind Scary and kept him company. When Scary reeled in a fish, Castro would come over to supervise the unhooking of fish (game fish are released back into the river, the carp are killed).



Now, here’s the quintessentially Castro part of it all: if Scary reels in a line and there is no fish on it, Castro complains to him about it. The noise is not quite a whine and not quite a growl, sort of a low rumbling of dissatisfaction, like “what do you think you are doing? You are supposed to catch fish with those lines. Get it right!”

Yeah, Castro is the coolest.

As for Castro and Buzz, they get along just fine so long as Buzz behaves.



However, when Buzz is rude or careless, Castro gets really fed up with him. And, here’s another quintessentially Castro bit, when Buzz is bad Castro holds it against me. Castro glares at me when Buzz is being a pest. He freakin' knows who to blame!

Smartest. Dog. Ever.

I love him.

The Farm

There is a most beautiful piece of land that my family has owned for several decades. It has a river running through it. It is full of trees and grasses and deer and sunshine. We all refer to it as "the farm" even though the part of the property that is a working dairy farm is no longer owned by my grandmother.

Last weekend, Buzz and I drove to Wisconsin and went camping on the farm with my brothers and our cousins.

Buzz was miserable the entire time.


He could not pursue any of his favorite activities like running in the woods...


or wading in the river...


what's more, there was no one for him to play with...

[Some of you will recognize that guy as my baby brother, AKA Uncle Scary. He's holding his dogs Sophie (the hound) and Castro (the border collie mix). If you look closely, you'll see Sophie in the picture of Buzz in the woods and Castro's tail in the picture of Buzz in the river.]

Going to the farm was torture for Buzz, he rolled around in agony the entire time.


The poor thing. : )

In other news, when I got into this...

...we discovered a couple of things: (1) Buzz can, in fact, do more than wade. He can swim. (2) Buzz will swim after me if I get in the canoe and paddle upstream. (3) Buzz will not ride in a canoe. (4) It's probably easiest if I just don't canoe when the dog is around. (5) My brothers don't think it is funny when I recount the tale of Buzz's swim by singing Carole King's "Where You Lead, I Will Follow" and doing an interpretive dance.

Pete

Pete is my parents’ dog.


After adopting Ned, a dog with very poor social skills, my parents were on the lookout for a nice, steady dog to add to the house in order to help Ned be a nice, steady dog.

My brother was living in northern Minnesota at the time and saw Pete at the shelter there. Pete was in the shelter for a very long time. Probably because he’s black and shaggy and has a truly awkward wide shape to him.


Oh, and Pete only has one eye.


Apparently, Pete’s missing eye is the reason that he was in the shelter. It is believed that he injured his eye and his owners didn’t (for whatever reason, perhaps the cost) seek veterinary treatment for him. Pete’s eye became worse and worse and by the time he was surrendered to the shelter, there was nothing to do but remove the eye.


Pete is a lovely dog, though. Always smiling. A rich, course bark. A light bounce in his run despite his wide load. Pete is full of smiles and will fetch for hours.


I find Pete rather interesting. He has the reputation of being the “good” one, but Pete is very stubborn and often disobedient. He barks at people and makes demands. He won’t go to his room when told unless you take his collar in hand or show him a treat. To be blunt: Pete isn’t all that interested in pleasing people.

But then, it seems that he was "loved" by some people that let Pete live with the pain of an eyeball rotting out of his head, so perhaps he’s well within his rights to just do what he wants and have his fun. He’s certainly not hurting anyone; he’s a lot of fun to watch; a very happy boy. And, Pete’s “whatever, Ned” attitude is probably the right response to some of Ned’s nervousness. They make a funny pair.


Pete has made some interesting adaptations based on his missing eye. He is often against walls, with his sighted eye facing outwards, and he loves to be under tables and chairs.

He teaches dogs to approach him on his sighted side. It was fascinating to see him teach Buzz this. Pete just growled when Buzz came at him from the wrong angle and gave Buzz happy greeting if he came at him from a good angle. Buzz caught on quickly. Buzz and Pete are great friends, always near each other, on each other, looking at each other and smiling.

Uncle Scary

My parents have an emotionally fragile dog who doesn’t deal well with new dogs being in his home—especially hyper in-your-face dogs like Buzz. When I visited last year, we ended up having to confine either Ned or Buzz at all times.

This year, my brother invited Buzz and I to stay with him so that there would be less worry and more freedom. My brother has two dogs, Castro and Sophie, who I will blog about later. First, though let me show you my baby brother.


He is, as my godmother says, a whoopensocker. He’s 6’5” and built like a linebacker. Because of this and because Buzz is full of quick energy and is always checking in with people, my brother started to play a game with Buzz…a game we dubbed "Uncle Scary."


To play Uncle Scary, my brother tightens up his body language, adopts a somewhat menacing expression, and directs all of his attention at Buzz.


In response, Buzz approaches him cautiously and somewhat nervously, taking care to show that he’s a submissive dog.






Then, Uncle Scary cracks and they have a hug and a little dance.




A couple of minutes later, the game starts over. Hilarious.

Thanksgiving 2007

Buzz and I traveled to my hometown for Thanksgiving.

Buzz was 6 months old and about 30 pounds the last time he saw most of my family. Now he’s 18 months and 60 pounds.

Thanksgiving 2006


Thanksgiving 2007


Even though Buzz is taller and longer than most of his cousin/uncle dogs, my family did not believe that he weighed so much until we got out a bathroom scale and I stood on it with Buzz.


Buzz and my mom are good buddies.
“Oh Granny, what a lovely lap you have!”


Okay, so he did remember his manners later.


My father and Buzz are forming a mutual admiration society.
“Grandpa, you are strong and gentle!”


“Buzz, you are a NICE dog!”


My brother was surprised to see that Buzz still acts like such a puppy—watching everything, always in motion, sticking his nose in every corner. We were trying to figure out a way to describe his energy; “frantic without being anxious” was one, but “buzzy” works well, too.

“Who me?”