Tag Archives: Canine Good Citizen

Posted in opinion

IN THE DOG HOUSE

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By Dash the Wonder Dog

Me…in my customary position

Well, as you read in Uncle Bob’s post last week, my mom has gone and done it now.  Her reckless behavior has resulted in the both of us being thrown in the hoosegow.  Not just any hoosegow – a Turkish hoosegow.  Although her intentions were good, she never should have used that photo without authorization.  Sometimes I think she isn’t functioning with all her marbles, like when she forgets to feed me on time.  All I know is that one moment I was relaxing in the lap of luxury on my leopard bed and the next thing I knew I was in a land far away, mingling with people (and dogs) who are far beneath my station in life.  Do they not know I’m a Cavalier KING Charles?  My mom keeps sobbing, something about “Midnight Express” and that her manicure is being shredded.  She wants me to dig our way out of here.  Seriously?  Sister, you got us into this mess so you can just suck it up about your ruined gel polish and get to work.  In the mean time, I will try to describe our conditions in this primitive place.

Bad Eddie – Don’t mess with him

I must say that the people you meet in a Turkish prison are very solicitous.  Really – they solicit everything.  We have been asked if we’d care for cigarettes, chocolate bars or a brick of hashish.  My mom jumped at the chocolate bar but I’m still holding out for a good antler bone.  They seem to be in short supply.  Unfortunately for me, several other detainees have brought their dogs along with them.  Just like humans, there is a pecking order among us canines.  At the top of the heap is Bad Eddie (photo right).  I don’t know what he’s in for because I’m too scared to ask, but my guess is that he bit off the leg of a sultan.  He rules this place with an iron paw and steals the meager rations from newcomers like me.  I have tried my best to bat my big brown eyes at him but I think I gave him the wrong impression.  Apparently I am not the first to learn that batting one’s eyes can result in becoming someone’s bitch, which is ridiculous because everyone knows I’m a male dog.   Bad Eddie struts around the courtyard with his “posse” of Rottweilers and Poodles, acting like they don’t have to obey the rules.  I have tried to instruct them as to proper etiquette, showing off my credentials as a Canine Good Citizen from PetSmart but I don’t think they’re impressed.  One of them actually lifted his leg on me which just isn’t done in polite society.  I think PetSmart could make a killing in this place.

Mom’s lunch…and dinner.

Mom doesn’t seem to be adapting to our new circumstances.  She keeps complaining about flies, rusty water and the sixteen other women sharing our 4×4 cell.  I remind her that every minute that she spends complaining is another minute that she is not digging!  Besides, in my personal opinion, I think the food here is doing her some good.  I don’t like to be critical but those five pounds she packed on at Christmas are still hanging around her hips.  Another few weeks in this place and I think she will be back in fighting shape.  As for me, I’m doing my best to supervise her, keep Bad Eddie at bay and bribe the guards for some organic bison/mango treats.  Hopefully by our next post all will be returned to normal – me lying on my leopard bed and mom resuming her manicure schedule.  Sheesh!  I hope she’s learned her lesson.  I don’t think I can face Bad Eddie again.

 

Posted in opinion

DASH GETS A JOB

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Dash at his usual station

Dash at his usual station

Dash the Wonder Dog is three years old which, for a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, equates to 28 human years.  In other words – he is a millennial.  But it’s not only his age that puts him in that category.  He also fits into that demographic through his actions, or better put, his inactions.  To wit:  he still lives at home with his parents, he lies around all day on the couch watching television, he expects to be served his meals (on time) and he does not contribute one cent to the household coffers.  To add insult to injury, he has never barked so he’s not even a respectable watch dog.  In fact, the welcome mat our on our front doorstep says “Warning – Dog Can’t Hold His Licker”.  Something had to be done.  I began to research how he might contribute – nothing too taxing, after all he is the Royal Dog of England.  As luck would have it, I stumbled upon “Pets on Wheels” in Scottsdale and decided we should give it a go.

Pets on Wheels was founded in 1990 as a visiting therapy dog organization with the mission of enhancing the lives of the elderly and/or infirm in special care centers.  Volunteers visit once a week, providing a bright spot in the day for all of the patients they visit.  For obvious reasons one has to jump through some hoops before being approved by Pets on Wheels, so on a bright Saturday morning in March Dash and I attended the orientation meeting.  Two delightful women talked about the history of the group and showed heart-warming pictures of dogs (I think some people were in them too) and explained what was required of a dog to be approved for the program.  They assured us that the qualifications weren’t too hard – respond well to petting and touching, ignore loud noises, reject any food that may be on the floor, and walk well on a leash.  I began to panic.  Maybe these two ladies felt that was a rather low bar, but I know that Dash has never rejected a morsel of food in his life.  He sits at my feet every night as I prepare dinner, not looking up at me but instead staring straight ahead so that he can best sight any falling crumb.  Nothing escapes his steely eyed gaze.  As for walking on a leash – I have rotator cuff damage from all the pulling and tugging on our daily walks.

But on the plus side, Dash does have his Canine Good Citizen certificate so somewhere, deep in the recesses of his brain, he does know how to use his party manners.  I prayed that those recesses would come to the fore.  So we started the test, him happily unaware and me nervous as a tick.  Of course he loved being petted and didn’t flinch a bit at loud noises.  Next we had to walk down a long hallway so they could see if I had him under control.  Under control????  Are you kidding?  He has had me under his paw since the day we brought him home.  He treats my commands as mere suggestions, and usually obeys only if there is a snack involved.  But, here we were, being tested and as if the heavens had opened up and angels were sitting on his shoulder, he walked down that hallway like he owned the place.  Whew!  We made it through the first round.

Dash in his uniform

Dash in his uniform

The second phase of approval took place at our assigned care facility, Vi at Silverstone.  An experienced observer met us there so he could evaluate how Dash interacted with the inhabitants.  Let’s be honest, I think I was also being evaluated but the observer was too kind to tell me that.  As we walked into the building Dash immediately lurched to the right.  Unfortunately, the nice people at Vi put out a plate of cookies every day for visitors.  So Dash, assuming he was an invited guest, thought the warm, fragrant oatmeal cookies were up for grabs.  So much for first impressions.  The evaluator gave me a look I couldn’t quite place – it was either “Lady, you are dreaming if you think you’re going pass this test” or “Hey, my dog does that too”.  Regardless, on we went, visiting the people in the assisted living unit and then the skilled nursing area.  Finally, we entered the memory care quarters which requires a five digit code to enter and exit.  I am expected to remember it which, considering I am constantly forgetting our four digit security system code, could result in me permanently being locked in.  Well at least that would save my family the trouble of having to officially commit me.  Luckily my Swiss Cheese brain remembered the code so we returned to the lobby where the evaluator told us we passed.  Dash got his official “uniform” – a Pets on Wheels bandana, a leash and a badge.  I got one of those oatmeal cookies.

In the weeks since being approved we’ve made several visits and Dash has been a champ.  I’m not really surprised.  As much as he can disobey me at times, he is the very picture of obedience when he is around strangers.  He is always patient and quiet, accepting of whomever comes his way.  He contentedly sits on laps, savouring every scratch behind the ear or rub on the belly.  But of course, the best part of his new job is seeing the faces of people that he visits. Most of them light up when he jaunts into the room and many want him to sit on their bed so they can get a snuggle.  Even in the memory unit he is petted and loved and for that instant has made someone happy.  As for me, I love doing it too.  I think about the day, hopefully very far in the future, when I might find myself in similar circumstances.  How joyful it will be to once again feel a furry paw on my hand or a moist lick on my cheek.  For now, I’m just happy to accompany Dash to work.

 

Posted in Blog Info / Up-dates

DEDUCING DEDUCTIONS

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

The dreaded 1040

The dreaded 1040

Well, it’s that time of year again where I get out my green eyeshades and sharpen my pencil in order to calculate our taxes.  I’m actually one of the few people I know who like to prepare taxes – it’s the paying of them I’m not so crazy about.  A few years ago a friend told me about a head-to-head competition he ran between his CPA and TurboTax.  Turns out that TurboTax actually found more deductions.  That was enough for a geek like me; I began using it the following year.  It’s very simple – I input our income, figure out some of the major deduction categories, insert them when prompted and they magically calculate what we owe.  Unfortunately this year, it was a LOT more fun inserting the numbers than it was to read what we owed.  Yikes!  We’re not personally trying to settle the national debt, although the wizards at the IRS and TurboTax evidently think we are.  So there was only one solution – find more deductions.

Dash, the Dependent

Dash, the Dependent

I began by reviewing our charitable contributions.  I thought about all the times I carelessly tossed spare change into whatever charity container sits at the checkout counter at the grocery store.  Certainly I must have thrown at least $1000 in there over the course of a year  Or maybe not.  I perused the list of clothing that we give to the local animal shelter thrift store.  If I actually added in my time to the hand-knit sweaters I donated I’m sure the value of them would skyrocket.  Of course, I’m not sure that the IRS values my time in quite the same way I do.  On closer review of our annual expenses, it became apparent that we spend an awful lot of money on Dash, The Wonder Dog.  So I began to look more closely at the questions that TurboTax was asking me. “Do you have children or other people  you financially support?”  Well, Dash may not technically qualify as people, per se, but those of you who own a pet will certainly testify (perhaps at my IRS hearing) that our pets are just like people.  Better, in some cases.  “Do you pay child or dependent care?”  Dash cannot be left alone for hours on end, which leaves us no choice but to take him to the dog sitter.  And although he may not be a child, there is no question but that he is very dependent on us. “Do you have any higher education costs?”  YES!  Last year we paid to have Dash go through the Canine Good Citizen program which cost us a pretty penny, I assure you.  And I’m willing to bet that he got more out of that than those kids who are drinking their way through Chico State.

A Dog with a JOB

A Dog with a JOB

Finally I decided that I should consult the IRS guidelines on the issue.  Turns out, that in some cases you CAN deduct expenses for your dog.  First, if you’re blind or otherwise handicapped, you can deduct all of the costs associated with a service dog.  There is a lot of paperwork involved to certify that the dog is actually medically necessary.  The IRS does not take the same slap-dash attitude toward this as the airlines, who seem pretty gullible by comparison with all the passengers claiming their dog is necessary for “emotional support” when all they’re really trying to do is avoid the $75 pet fee. Going blind so that I can claim Dash as a service dog seemed like it was taking things a bit too far.  I moved on.  The other way you can deduct your dog is if he has a job. Aha!  I can definitely make a case that Dash has a job – he keeps quite busy every day following me around scooping up any food I happen to drop.  But of course it’s always the fine print that gets you and as I read further, apparently the dog actually has to have regular work hours at a place of business.  Like those snarling dogs at the local lumber yard.  And a sign must be posted “Beware – Guard Dog on Duty”.  Hmmmmm, we are so far from that.  We have a front door mat that says “Beware – Our Dog Can’t Hold Its Licker”.

Finally, I gave up on the “Dash deduction” and resigned myself to paying the taxes owed.  Our dad used to say that he never minded paying taxes because it was a privilege to live in this country.  I admire his spirit but I’m not sure if he were alive today he would say the same thing, given budget excesses for $100,000 hammers and million dollar boondoggles by – of all people – IRS employees.  I’m going to send a suggestion in with my tax forms stating how I’d like my tax payment to be appropriated.  I’ll let you know how that goes.

Posted in opinion

OBEDIENCE SCHOOL FOR PEOPLE

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Good citizen

Recently we have been putting Dash the Wonder Dog through his paces at obedience school.  This past weekend he graduated from the Intermediate level and next week begins a six-week journey to become a Canine Good Citizen. Actually, the training is more for me.  I am learning that consistency and discipline are not exactly my strong suits.  More on that later.

Today I want to write about the brilliant idea I had during Dash’s training – Obedience School for People!  Don’t laugh – think about how much less annoying life would be if everybody had to attain their Good Citizen certificate.  One of the major complaints we hear, either in person or on TV,  is  how rude and inconsiderate people are these days.  “Honkers” in traffic, people with full carts in the Express Check-out line, someone in front of you at Starbucks ordering Cappacinos for their entire office.  But imagine a world where people were actually trained as well as our dogs!  To prove my point, here are some examples:

1.  Fetch – with canines the dogs are taught to go get something that you’ve thrown and bring it right back to you.  Oh, if only this had applied to some of my friends over Ice Skating Bookthe years.  I have loaned – and not gotten back – clothing, utensils, garden equipment and various other household items.  As an example, a friend “borrowed” my book on figure skating written by the great sportswriter Christine Brennan.  That was in 1997.  For the first year I hinted to her that I wanted to refresh my memory about some skaters and would sure like to re-read the book.  Nothing. Several other hints were also met with inaction. Finally, when we were moving out of state and I was pretty sure that I would never see her again I came right out and reminded her that the book was about two years overdue at my personal lending library.  Still…to this day the book resides on her bookshelf, permanently “borrowed” from me.   But – and here’s where the brilliance of my plan comes in – if my friend had been through training I could have said “fetch” and my book would have been promptly returned.  

 

Angry Mob2.  Wait – dogs are not generally long on patience or attention spans.  Sort of like husbands.  So the “wait” command teaches them to pause before entering or exiting a room or to stop doing whatever they’re doing (like bugging you to throw the ball for the 1,000th time).  I was thinking about the “wait” training trick when I was standing outside Costco the other morning.  I was there about five minutes before they opened and joined a crowd of about 20 people.  It was not particularly cold – it’s Scottsdale for Heaven’s sake – nor was it the morning before a holiday.  In other words, there should have been no overriding sense of urgency.  But at 9:03 when the big steel door still had not opened, not one but two (!) people called the store demanding that they open up.  And in rather harsh terms, I might add.  Now I have to admit, I love Costco.  I own stock in the company, I think they treat their employees well, and best of all, if you time it just right you can get a free meal by swerving through the aisles picking up all the free samples.  So when people are so impatient and rude that they are yelling at the nice Costco people for being THREE MINUTES late, I think that is a call to action.  If ever there was a need for people to  heed the “wait” command, it is apparently at the Scottsdale Costco.

3.  Heel – this is actually a technical term for when the dog is facing forward with its shoulder at your calf.  It is called their “positional space”.  Boy oh boy, based solely on Personal Spacemy observations, “heel” is a concept where we humans fall woefully short. We’ve all experienced the personal space invasion – the drunk at the cocktail party who stands so close that you could critique their dental work, the oaf at the movies who hogs the armrest, or the dunderhead at the Little League game who has to sit thisclose to you on the bleachers when three rows stand empty in front of you.  The worst violators seem to be on airplanes.  There are the Droolers, the Seat Tilters who leave you no leg room, and of course, the Sleepers.  I once had the misfortune to be in the window seat next to a rather large man who not only spread out all over the empty middle seat, but apparently suffered from narcolepsy.  Despite several attempts to wake him, he slumbered on.  My gyrations to crawl over him to get to the restroom would make a call girl blush.  If everyone was required by the rules set down in my Good Citizen requirements we could confidently enter the public square and – this is critical – airplanes, knowing that everyone would stay in their own darn “positional space”.

 

I’m sure there are other examples of how we might “train” people  I’d love to hear your ideas.  In the mean time, I’m sticking with the dogs.  I think my success rate will be better.