Friday, January 28, 2011

Hair

In my life, dog hair is a fashion statement.

One of the major facts of life when you live with dogs is hair.  One has to be realistic – there is no way to live with dogs and not live with hair as well, unless your breed is Xolos.  What is important is to look at the positive.

First of all, dog hair is much, much easier to live with than cat hair.  I used to have house cats as well as house dogs; now my cats all live out of doors.  When there is a cat in the house, the hair is EVERYWHERE, and it is so delicate and fine that it is hard to see, and sometimes you only realize it is there when you find it in your mouth together with your food, or start choking because you have breathed it in. (Please, cat lovers, I have nothing against cats, I love them, but let’s be real about it…!)  With dog hair, I can see it is there, so I can pull it out of my food before I eat, and usually manage not to breathe it in.

I have given up imagining that I will ever wear an outfit that is not decorated with some hair.  So the idea is to wear clothes that are either the same color as the dog, so that the hair doesn’t show, or to wear colors that are complimentary to the dog, so that the hair gives them an interesting aspect, and to proudly feel that the dog hair is an aesthetic accessory and really makes me look better.  After all, it looks really good on my dogs, I have always wanted to be as good looking as they are…

Fabrics are chosen carefully. No matter how popular and in fashion something may be, if it collects all the hair from an area of a hundred meters, and that hair remains stuck on as if with superglue, that is not something you will find in my wardrobe.  Sleek, slippery fashions are good, the hair just slides off.  Jeans, which constitute about 90% of the items in my closet, are great – the hair doesn’t stick at all.  Mohair and various sorts of fuzzy things are great – if you are careful about color choice, no one can be sure what part of the fuzz is fashion and what part is dog.  And since those fabrics also shed, if you leave hair on the sofa at your friend’s house, no one can be sure whether to blame the dog or not.

Of course there are some additional fashion problems aside from hair.  Even though a lot of my dogs are close to white in color, it is rare to see me dressed in anything white, or anything from the waist down that is light colored.  The chances of me getting from the door of the house to the car dressed like that without collecting puppy footprints is infinitesimal.  Clothes in camouflage patterns are great…

The yard is a paradise for birds during nesting season. Unfortunately, there are not nearly enough birds around to make use of all this lovely warm fur, and nesting season is much too short.  Around here, if the birds nested four times a year, there would still be plenty to go around.  The yard here has this soft and fuzzy look, and there are fluffy tufts around the flowers.  I wonder if I could popularize a new sort of look for the garden…

I do like to have my house clean.  But I have to admit that I am not an obsessive cleaner – the parts of the house that I can see get cleaned regularly, but places that are hidden, like under the furniture, are usually ignored, on the principle of “If you can’t see it, it doesn’t exist.” 

I made the mistake last week of looking under the bed.  I think I was looking for a dog toy that had disappeared; what I discovered was a layer of hair that looked like some sort of animal living there.  Now that I had seen it, it couldn’t be ignored anymore.  Cleaning that was definitely not pleasant and completely filled the tank of the vacuum cleaner several times. I have been careful not to look under the sofa or the chairs – any dog toy that ends up there can stay there.

My consideration in buying furniture are very similar to those in buying clothes. Now that I think of it, my wardrobe and my house do match, and are very well color coordinated to the dogs.  Color coordinating is a good design principle, isn’t it?

People tend to have the idea that long haired dogs shed more than short haired dogs and that really short haired dogs don’t shed at all.  Well, sorry to puncture that bubble, but almost all dogs shed.  The worst I have experienced was a black Labrador that stayed with me for a few days, and left a trail of short black hairs everywhere.  Those short coated dogs also seem to shed all the time.  My collies and Canaans have what is called a double coat, which means that they have a lot of thick wool under the outer coat, and they both shed just as much, but not all the time, it is seasonal.  And it doesn’t matter if they are smooth collies, rough collies, or Canaans – when they shed, they shed…!  If I was into filling pillows, stuffed toys, or mattresses, I would do well.

Habibi doesn’t shed a lot.  Most of the time, he really leaves almost no hair around.  In shedding season, though, of course there is plenty.  This is true of all the gang – their coats are healthy and shiny and they don’t shed a lot.  The problem is that they seem to have worked it out very carefully – there is no time during the year when at least one of them is not shedding.  How have they managed to plan things so well????

It’s okay. I like wearing jeans and fuzzy sweaters.


Shedding season - Habibi's sister Kiss


Saturday, January 22, 2011

Birthdays

That time of year is here again. It is the middle of the winter, which is depressing under the best of circumstances – I, like my dogs, am a day person, and love long hours of sunlight.  Even though the weather here is not severe as in many other countries, and the days are not nearly as short as in northern Europe and such, (I find it hard to imagine living in a place where there are about 20 minutes of daylight per day), it still seems to be getting dark just when I am getting started doing something.  The dogs start their day at about 5 in the morning, since for them there have been quite enough hours of sleep in the dark, and now it is time to run and bark.  But it is still pitch black out, and will be for another two hours!  I want to stay in bed!  Habibi, get your nose out of my face, it’s too early!

What is worse, though, and what I would really like to ignore about this time of year – it is birthday time.

Dogs don’t care about birthdays, and don’t think about getting old.  As far as they are concerned, if you function, it doesn’t matter what your age is.  Turning gray is irrelevant, and if there are wrinkles, they don’t show through the hair.  Habibi’s great, great grandfather, Shachmat, my daughter’s personal pet and a very well known dog in his day, died at about 16, and until a few months beforehand, when he did start feeling his age and having trouble getting around, he held on to his position as king of the house dogs, and none of the others dreamed of telling him that he was too old for that.


Shachmat at 13 years of age


I have a very well developed internal image of myself.  I am not so delusional as to believe that I still look like I did at 25, but my internal self says I certainly must be a well preserved 45?  The passing of time is all in the mind, isn’t it? 

I have learned from the dogs not to look in the mirror.  For them, this image is an illusion – there is no sound, no smell, no touch, so that image that may appear to be a dog is obviously nothing and doesn’t have to be considered.  I know that what I see in the mirror, when I do happen to glance that way, is also an illusion – I don’t really look like that...


 


Once in a while I meet  friends that I have not seen for a long time, and I am quite amazed at how they look.  Wrinkles!  Bifocals!  Knobby hands!  They have gotten older!  How did that happen???  I see them in my mind as they were when I first got to know them years ago.  And then I hear this tiny voice in the back of my mind saying, “You know, you look that way to them…”  No way!  Not possible!

It works the other way also – when I meet a friend that really looks good, and young for his age, that little voice is saying, “I hope you look that good too!”

But one thing it is impossible to escape from is photographs.  I hate having my photo taken. I am very happy to have people photograph my dogs, but please, just focus on them!  I don’t mind at all having my head cut off!

When, unfortunately, I do find myself in the photo, it is very painful. That image does not look at all like the one in my imagination!  Do I really look like that? It can’t be me!

This week I was interviewed as part of a TV program that is being prepared about dogs.  There was no way to escape from the camera.  But since it was about dogs, some of the dogs were sitting there with me, and I tried my best to stay hidden behind them while encouraging them to sit on my lap, dodging the cameraman while he tried to dodge the dogs.  Wonder how that is going to come out…

It is not only a matter of looks.  Despite all my efforts to stay fit, I have discovered that I have muscles and joints which never existed when I was younger, and which don’t like to get out of bed in the morning and certainly don’t enjoy going up and down stairs – and stairs is something I have plenty of here.  

But then I look at the older dogs in the pack here, who love to run with the young ones.  When you look closely, they are not quite as fast and as agile, but they don’t sit and think about it – they run, as best they can, and enjoy being able to do what they still can do. They never think about how much better they looked in their younger days, or how it has become difficult to leap and bound up the hillside, they just do it.  And life is great!

Habibi doesn’t care about the wrinkles and the gray hair, he can see the young soul inside, and that is who he loves.



Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Buffy

Buffy left me when she was two months old to become a family pet.  A week ago, she returned home to me because of “family problems”.  “Family problems” is something we are very familiar with here; this can mean too much hair in the house at shedding season, barking when the dog is at home alone for 20 hours a day, “doggy smell”, vacation time and we can’t afford to put the dog in a boarding kennel, the kids have gotten bored with the dog and would rather go to judo class, or any number of other reasons why the puppy that has grown up to be affectionate, devoted and loving can no longer live there.  But my puppies are “family”, and they always have a place to come home to if they need one.

Buffy is a Canaan girl, who is going to have her first birthday in a few days.  She is a very outgoing and friendly youngster, with great self confidence and the desire to be everyone’s friend.  She is very well mannered in the house, and although she is very energetic, she does know the limits and really behaves well.  Her only problem is that her former “mommy” has decided that she really doesn’t want a dog.
She has had almost no experience with other dogs in the ten months that she has been away, so her first reaction to the pack here was, “Oh dear!!!”  But that passed very quickly into “Wow!  Friends to play with!!!!!”  The trouble is that Buffy is not very well versed in the rules of dog play.  Just as there are rules for what is allowed and what is not among the children in kindergarten, there are also rules about the limits of the use of force in dog play.  Buffy’s current “playgroup” is Jenny and Lili, two seven month old collie pups.  They are a bit bigger than Buffy, but collies are very gentle dogs and even when playing, they are dainty.  Buffy’ though, is like a bulldozer – run and smash, grab (and on collies, with all that hair, there is plenty to grab), pull, push, and anything else she can think of doing.  She seems to be trying to use up a year’s worth of energy in a few days.

Jenny and Lili are happy, playful and active puppies but this is overwhelming.  They are too gentle to tell Buffy off in a way that would make an impression on her, so for part of the day, they have to be separated, just so that the collies can get a bit of rest. 

Habibi, however, usually has no problems in being a disciplinarian.  As the king of the dogs, he makes it very clear to everyone what is permitted and what is not, and how to properly play games in a dog-mannerly way.  But Buffy has proven to be a real challenge.


Buffy fell in love with Habibi at first glance.  She looked at him, and seemed to collapse in shock – “I have been waiting for you my entire life!!!”  She follows him around constantly, bowing and licking and trying to get in front of him so that she can roll over and wave her dainty paws at him.



"I love you!!!!!"


Habibi finds this annoying.  “What does this little pest want from me?” I can see in his suffering expression. “I love you, I love you, I love you!!!!” Is Buffy’s answer.  No matter what he does to discourage her and chase her away, she is incorrigible – anything is acceptable from the one she loves.  Growls, snarls, muzzle grabs, and rolling her over – all are accepted in the spirit of “More! More! Any sort of attention is fine! I love you!”

It is so reminiscent of a teenage girl with a crush on an “older” man….The time will come when Habibi will feel differently, there is no doubt, but for now it is just, “Leave me alone, kid!”  as far as he is concerned.  Buffy, though, is nothing if not persistent.  It will be interesting to see who wins…

Monday, January 17, 2011

Puppies


The sight of puppies evokes warm fuzzy feelings in us humans.  Even people that really don’t care much for dogs start gushing over little puppies.  So small and sweet and helpless, and just waiting to be cuddled…!

Well, appearances are deceiving…Not that puppies are not sweet and cuddly,  but within that attractive little package is a super charged system run by a diabolical little brain.

Rough collie puppies are relatively easy.  They really are sweet and love to cuddle. However, they are very prepared to loudly voice their displeasure the minute the cuddling stops.  They can be little primadonnas, believing with their whole little hearts that puppies are meant to live on the living room carpet – why on earth would they want to dirty their pristine little feet by going outside?  In the winter it is wet, in the summer it is hot…And carpets, house plants, shoes, and other interesting objects at nose height are definitely more interesting than leaves and grass outside.

Smooth collie puppies are like a little steel spring stuffed into a furry little package.  Climbing out of the whelping box begins at about four weeks of age, and from the minute they discover they can do it, hopes of keeping them in are gone.  A bouncing ball is nothing in comparison – I can barely mange to turn my back after putting them back in the box before they are out again.  Their general attitude is “Take no prisoners” – anything in reach is eligible for chewing, dragging around, shaking, and arguing over.  People are the most fascinating chew toys of all – pants legs, shoe laces, skirt hems, long hair – wow! What fun!

Since I do a lot of interbreeding between smooth and rough collies, which is allowed here and has brought me some very successful results, I have also managed to create puppies that look sweet, soft and cuddly like typical roughs, but are clever little sharks in a furry coat.



And then there are the Canaan puppies.  I have never seen a puppy of another breed that was capable, at five weeks of age, of climbing up a fence to get on top of a dog house.  They seem to be part cat, since they manage to climb up on just about anything – stairs, terraces, - and the other part seems to be kamikaze, since climbing down is not considered, launching themselves into the air in a wild leap is the accepted procedure.  And they bounce!  As I run towards them to try to get there in time to stop them, they laugh at me and jump, bounce to the ground, and run at me in joy. 

Normal dog toys, balls, and such, are glanced at, tasted, and left.  What is really interesting is nature – stripping the leaves off the plants in the garden, (garden? What garden????), and digging holes, preferably right under the plants until they get to the roots.  There are a few places in the yard where I still try to grow a few plants and they are fenced to keep the collie puppies out – for the Canaans, they are a joke.  They squeeze under, through, or climb over the top, and despite what I do to try and protect my few sad bushes and flower pots, they still manage to get in, and find plenty of destruction to keep them busy.

Keeping them in a puppy pen, so that the adults and I can have a bit of peace, is another challenge.  They are very inventive at finding ways to get out by climbing up on the dog houses, finding a way to open the latch, and other methods that I haven’t even managed to figure out – I just find them out and happily demolishing everything in reach.

It has been quite cold and rainy the last few days.  I have become, over the years, soft.  I do really know that in the climate of Israel, collies and Canaans have no problems.  Even the puppies, as long as they have a good sheltered place to go into, can get along just fine, even in the winter.  But I hate to see puppies that look miserably wet and muddy – even though they are by choice running around in the rain and perfectly happy.

A friend gave me a few old blankets for the dogs – really nice thick, heavy, woolen blankets.  Habibi’s puppies are here in the front of the house, having fun in the rain, and I decided that I would pamper them, so I put one of these blankets in their shelter.  I was sure that within half an hour, they would have pulled it out and left it soaked in a puddle.

They all very cautiously came up to the opening of the doghouse, peering in at this new and strange apparition.  After a few minutes of making sure that it would not jump out and bite them, the first and bravest girl entered, and began to try to chew it up.  The others quickly followed suit, and I was sure that this was the beginning of the end – the blanket would soon be outside.

But no one can ever ignore the intelligence of a Canaan, even at seven weeks of age.  After a few chews, which apparently showed them that this object was really not very tasty, they realized that it was warm and comfy!  That was it – the puppies curled up in a ball together in the depths of the blanket, and did not come out again until morning.

Even though it is not raining today, the sun is out, and the puppies are happily playing outside, they have  made no attempts to pull the blanket out and destroy it.  When they have tired themselves out from running around, they all climb in and sleep happily on their new luxurious bed.  After all, if someone wants to pamper you, you accept it with grace!

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Habibi, like most males, is not enthusiastic about puppies.  He is tolerant; he knows they are babies and he is always gentle with them.  But he really doesn’t want to play with them and really would prefer for them to be behind a fence.  “Why on earth do you want to spend time with these undisciplined and unmannerly little beasts?” is his attitude. 

As far as Habibi is concerned, this is nature’s camouflage for a school of piranhas on four legs.  The puppies love to run after him and fuss around to get attention, and he tiptoes through them, hopping along and pulling his legs out of their eager little mouths. He has developed a system of leaping from the top of one dog house to another, over the fence of the puppy pen, and onto the porch, to get back to the house out of reach of the junior pack.  Very funny to watch this big, strong, dominant boy escaping a bunch of puppies.  But I have no doubts that this current bunch, his children after all, will very quickly find a way to start climbing up after him…




Sunday, January 16, 2011

Patience

Dogs are really very patient.  When they try something out and see that it doesn’t work, they are very capable of just waiting for the situation to change.  It can be a long wait, but somehow they have confidence that in the end, something will happen.  Habibi can wait very patiently for what he wants, usually lying in line of sight, in his favorite cat-like pose with his front feet folded under him.  But those dark expressive eyes following my every move are enough to indicate to me that he expects something, and at my question of “What do you want?’, he is immediately on his feet to show me.

I wish I could be as patient as they are.  I have tried, over the years, to learn, and I have improved a lot since my younger days, but life still tends to destroy my good intentions.

The thing that I find the hardest to cope with is waiting for service. I have always been the sort of person who tried to do things for myself, mostly because I never had the money to hire people to do things for me, and because I always felt rather apologetic and ashamed of having to ask for help.

Nowadays, in our modern, technological, advanced world, there are numberless things that I just can’t fix on my own – I have to call for service.

Distances in Israel, relative to most other countries, are not great.  But I don’t live in town, rather in what could be called “the country”.  So the first response I get when I have to call for service is, “Where is that?  No, too far, we don’t do service there!” 

“But it is only ten minutes away from you!  It is closer than someone in town!”

“No, we don’t get to places like that.”

Then there is the response of those who know of my existence:

“Is that the place with all of those dogs????”

You can imagine the response when I confirm this.

Over the last few years, though, the economic competition has become so great, that the provision of service has greatly improved.  Now, no one says that they won’t come out to give me service.  The question now becomes, when…

There are a few people that I know and that have been coming out to repair things here for years, and they are really excellent.  The best is my computer guy – if I have computer problems, he always comes on the same day.   I guess he figures that I am so “isolated”, at least I should have the computer…He also likes dogs, and asks me for advice about his German Shepherd, so that helps.  But with most, the answer is, “Well, some time in the next week, and you have to be at home all the time between the hours of eight and four, in case the technician has time…”

Proof of my total technological disability was the case of the TV.  One day, my TV appeared to be dead.  No response to anything, just a plain blank screen with no signs of life.  Since in my spare time (when I have some), I am a TV addict, and the warranty was also still in effect, I called for service, and after a few days (“Be at home between…”), the serviceman showed up.  In about 30 seconds, the set was alive again and working. I had apparently, in one of my rare fits of really enthusiastic house cleaning, dusted under the set and unknowingly pressed a button that was there that I didn’t know existed, which turned the whole thing off.  I still, of course, had to pay, though the serviceman was kind enough not to laugh in my face as he took the money.

I try to wait patiently.  And as the time goes by, and the days pass, I am overcome and call back.  If I have the luck of really getting a live human being on the phone, the answer is the same.  “Some time in the next week…”

This week has been a very difficult one.  First I had problems with the sewer.  The sewer system here at my place was built by the British in the time of the mandate, and is still working fine for the most part.  But the trees around here are tough and manage to get their roots in everywhere, which may be fine for providing moisture for them, but is not great for me.  This time, the line from the toilet was completely blocked, which meant that I couldn’t use it until the plumber showed up to clear the blockage.

Of all possible disasters, not having a toilet available is one of the biggest.  At my time in life, almost everything is planned with consideration of where the nearest toilet is.  I am very envious of Habibi’s bladder capacity – when the weather is bad and he doesn’t feel like going out, he can wait twelve or fourteen hours without any discomfort.  Even when I insist that he go out, he will sit on the porch by the door waiting for me to let him back in.  Just to have a fraction of that capacity would be great!

It took the plumber two days to get here….Patience….

Habibi is very unhappy when service people do show up.  They are invading his territory, and he sees absolutely no reason for them to be there, and to be TOUCHING things!  How dare they!!!!  He is also, of course, very unhappy when he has to spend several hours closed in the kennel because I am so unintelligent as to let these people in.  When he comes back in the house, he examines thoroughly every step the serviceman has taken and everything he might have touched, with occasional glances of disgust in my direction.

So now I have a working toilet.  But the day after that problem was solved, suddenly I lost the electricity in half of the house.  I have absolutely no idea why.

Electricity is something that I don’t understand at all, and that I am really afraid of.  When I first moved here, I spent 17 years without electricity (basically for no reason other than bureaucracy), and ever since being blessed with it, have held it in great respect and awe.  And since it is so easy to get used to such luxuries, I find it extremely stressful when something goes wrong and it doesn’t work like it should.  I am always terrified that the god of electricity is taking revenge on me, and who knows what will happen next.

I know that the dogs think I am crazy for being stressed about whether there is light or not.  They sit there watching me get out the candles and the heavy blankets (of course, in this modern world, the heating is also electric), and find it very entertaining.

The electrician, who has been here before, and is not enthusiastic about coming out here, has told me, “Maybe tomorrow…” 

Patience….

P.S. The electrician was here, after two days of waiting, and fixed the short circuit in about ten minutes….Still no reason why…


Friday, January 7, 2011

The Maniac

One of Habibi’s best friends is Chance, even though she is a collie.

In general, the Canaan Dogs don’t seem to think of the collies as dogs.  They seem to think of them as a bunch of big, furry creampuffs.

Chance, however, is something else.  Her mother is Brazilian, and if ever there was the epitome of a hot Latin bombshell, it is Chance.  Activity is her middle name, and that means being in top gear – running, barking, pushing, mouthing, and doing anything she can invent to make things happen.


In order to try and turn her energy in a positive direction, I decided I would take her to a herding clinic and try her out on sheep.  For Chance, this was a revelation!  There were these big, dumb, furry things that moved when she ran at them – and even more surprising, when she did that, I told her what a wonderful and good dog she was!  And she was also a good dog when she barked at them and when she nudged and pushed them with her nose!  Wow!  All those things she had been trying to do with the other dogs and with people were now allowed and she was a good dog for doing them!!!

She loved every minute of it, and did not want to let the other dogs in the class have a turn. At one point, she managed to slip her collar, and dashed in while a poor confused German Shepherd was trying to understand just what he was expected to do.  “Look, you stupid dog! You have to circle them like this!  You have to push them!  They are sheep!”

Unfortunately, we do not have any sheep at home, and Chance has learned that herding is her true calling.  So anything that moves is fair game.  She tries to herd the other dogs, who are not at all enthusiastic about the idea, though overall they tolerate her, only occasionally getting annoyed and snapping back.  Since they do have teeth, she does respect them.  But people!  Those are the most fun!  When visitors come into the yard, Chance runs around them in circles and butts them in the rear with her nose to get them moving and keep them together.  Her nose butts can be quite a poke – I have felt them, since if there are not visitors around and she manages to get behind me, she will do it to me also.  It is not easy to explain to people who don’t really understand about the instincts of herding dogs that Chance is not trying to bite them, she is just herding them.  Some of them surreptitiously lift their pants legs to check and make sure that she really did not use teeth.

Another victim is my poor little Jack Russell terrier.  He is a working dog who is let loose at night to keep away mice and rats. During the day, he used to be out with the collie pack.  But Chance has decided that he is fair game and needs to be rounded up.  So now, to give him a bit of peace, he spends the days in the puppy pen, where he sleeps in the middle while Chance runs around the outside of the pen barking and trying to get him to move.  She is never happier than when he cooperates and runs around the inside of the pen so that she can herd him from the outside.  Jack Russells have a reputation for being hyperactive – well, compared to Chance, he is a pussycat.

The only one she really respects is Habibi. She would never dream of trying to herd him.  She loves to run after and retrieve balls and toys, but if Habibi is out and I throw a toy, she will dash after it and then stand aside while Habibi picks it up and brings it back.  After all, the pack leader deserves some respect…

Habibi accepts this as what is due him.  He does agree to run and play with Chance a bit, as any congenial adult will do with a child.  But of course, he has more serious things on his mind than dashing around with a hairy maniac.

I may have to buy some sheep…

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Jealousy

Habibi is very jealous.

We are all jealous.  I am jealous that you have a fancier car, a better job, a higher salary, that your eyes are blue, that you are talented in music, and any number of other things, rational or not.  Jealousy is a very human emotion, and it always has to do with possession – we want something that we don’t have but that you do.

We often talk about our dogs being jealous, but “jealousy” in dogs is something quite different.  Dogs are not jealous of the neighbor dog having a better job and salary.  Dogs are not jealous of the possessions of their friends, of them having an air conditioned dog house, a collar with diamond studs, or even a steak dinner.  They are not jealous of the mates of their acquaintances or the achievements of their offspring.  Their minds don’t work in that way; possessions and material things really do not make any difference.  The idea of “you can’t take it with you” is definitely epitomized by dogs.

For dogs, it is all about status.  The most important thing in life is being high up in the hierarchy of the pack, and the higher the better.  I demonstrate my status by having control over “possessions” – that bone is mine because I can take it away from you and you will let me.  Then if I don’t really want it, you can have it back.

Habibi definitely considers himself the pack leader around here – except for me, who he agrees to accept as someone who actually might have the right to have some authority.  I do, after all, have the ability to open and close the gate, and to control the refrigerator.  But he feels the need to keep things in order around here, and is very jealous of anyone that, from his point of view, is trying to usurp any portion of his position.

One of the main things that he is jealous of, is of me taking any of the other dogs with me if I go out, instead of him.  How can I even consider doing such a thing?  Unthinkable!  But it does happen at times, and he always shows me very clearly that he disapproves.  When I come back in, he gives me a quick “Wow, I’m happy to see you back again!” tail wag and dash around the house, (after all, it is important to keep the boss happy and in a good mood), and then he immediately goes straight over to the rack by the door where the leashes and collars are hanging and very carefully sniffs and inspects each one, to see just who they have been used on.  If he finds one with the scent of one of the other dogs, I get a reproachful look (“How could you!”).

If I have been out on my own, without any of the other dogs, then I am thoroughly inspected to see if there is any scent on me of another dog – “Have you touched anyone else?  Where have you been? What have you been doing with a strange dog?!!!!”

I find the thought, “Oh dear, Habibi will think I have been cheating on him!” running through my mind when I meet friends with their dogs.

He shows his jealousy in other ways.  If another dog from our pack comes over to be petted or to get a treat, Habibi pushes his way in between me and the other, blocking access to me with his body.  Since the other dogs here are members of the family, once he has demonstrated that he is the superior, with first access, he will then usually allow them to get some attention and treats.  But it must be with his permission!

This also happens when I am grooming the other dogs.  The grooming table is not big enough for him to get up on to insert himself between me and the groomee, though he has tried.  The next best thing is to place himself against my legs, as close as possible to the table, which makes it almost impossible for me to move around while working.  And he insists that I brush him also before I end the grooming session.

But it is not only other dogs that Habibi is jealous of.  He is also jealous of other people – why on earth should I be interested in talking to them when he is there?  When I have visitors, he will choose to sit pressed against my legs, between me and the “intruders”, shoving his nose under my hand or grabbing hold of my sleeve to gain my attention.  But when the other dogs are also out and greeting the visitors, he has big problems – on the one hand, he needs to stay with me and keep them away, but it also annoys him for the visitors to be petting the other dogs.  He is the one who needs all the attention!  So the end result is him circling around me with mad dashes to head off the other dogs and push them away from the hands of the visitors, and then rushing back to me, often barking at the same time.  It can be quite exhausting keeping order in the pack…

When he comes with me to my lectures, as he usually does, he sits on my feet, and tries the same attention drawing behavior, which can be quite distracting when I am trying to concentrate on what I am saying.  Should anyone move while I am speaking, his stare and under the breath growl is enough to warn them to stay where they are and pay attention. And should someone stand up – well! This is not allowed!  And results in warning barks.

My students learn to be very well disciplined…

Even talking on the phone is something that makes Habibi jealous.  He finds it difficult to understand why I should be spending time talking to an inanimate object.  But it is distracting my attention from him, so therefore cannot be good.  His solution to this is to go running off to the door barking when I am carrying on a phone conversation. He has learned that this is something I can’t really ignore – maybe there really is someone there? 

He has started to use this method when I am watching TV (“Why should anyone want to spend time watching colors moving around on a little screen, when anyone with the poorest sense of smell should know that there is nothing there!”) Hard to concentrate on the program when he periodically starts announcing, “Someone is coming! Something is happening! Come take a look!”

Luckily, he so far has not decided that the computer is a threat – but I certainly have no intentions of starting to talk on Skype.