Sheep and Goats

Last week, we had another few days of herding practice, and then a fun day for interested dogs and owners.

I took Chance, who is always thrilled to have an excuse to run after and bark at anything, and Kate, one of my smooth girls.  Kate was sent over to me from the US when she was about three years of age, after having already gained a herding title there, and having produced one litter of puppies, most of whom achieved herding titles by the time they were a year or so old.

Kate is a gentle soul, and it took her quite a while to really adjust to being in a new home.  She wasn’t sure where she fit into this new pack, and why her life was so different.  She was sent over pregnant, and had little time to adjust before having a litter of nine lovely puppies.  She was an excellent mother, but the demands of a family didn’t give her a lot of opportunity to think about her new surroundings.

So it has been at least three years or more since Kate worked with sheep, and I thought I would take her along and see what she thought about going back to work.  And, of course, I had to see if she and I could understand one another and work together.

When we first got to the farm, she was confused and suspicious – why had we come to this new place?  Then she spotted the sheep, and immediately perked up.  This was something that was familiar!  Although she and I were not too well attuned as to how she was supposed to respond to my commands, she was definitely interested, despite her doubts about the new place, in moving those sheep.

There are quite a lot of different breeds of sheep in the world, and the ones we have here are what the professional herders would call “heavy” sheep.  They are a breed called Awasi, are quite large with a lot of rather long and very thick wool, and a very big, fat, heavy tail.  They are very passive sheep; it takes a lot to get them to move.  In the conditions of this country, there are no large lush green fields for them to graze in.  Rather, there are rocky trails with scarce vegetation here and there, and they just keep walking and eating.  One doesn’t run much around here – it uses too much energy, and using energy means that you need more food, it uses too much water, and water here is certainly not plentiful, and it can be dangerous on some of those steep and slippery tracks.  So these sheep walk, and sometimes may break into a rather heavy and clumsy jog.  When it is hot and sunny, as in midday, they all stand in a tight group with their heads down, sheltered in the shade cast by their big bodies.  If something really annoys them, they are likely to turn around and butt with their heads – and they do have tough skulls.

Kate did try her best to get these sheep to move to where I wanted them.  But despite her barking, running at them, staring them in the face, and other actions, they just stood there with their heads in the shade, totally uninterested. And Kate is a gentle and polite dog – no way was she going to grab them or do anything rough.

Chance was a different story.  Chance is a tough girl and very determined, and the more they tried to ignore her, the more pushy she got.  She had no qualms about shoving them hard with her nose, or grabbing a mouthful of wool and jerking them around.  Her techniques were quite effective, she did get those woolies to move.

But then the fun day came around.  And on the fun day, we didn’t have sheep to work with, we had goats.

These were young goats of a native breed, rather small, and were very accustomed to dogs, the guy who keeps them also breeds border collies.  There were a number of dogs that were in turn to have a try at taking these goats around a simple herding course.  The goats were not easy to work with; they were much more prepared to split up with each one going in another direction, and to come up and stand pressed against the legs of the shepherd and start to eat his shirt.  (One of them managed to eat the wire of the microphone of the announcer…)

Then it was Kate’s turn and we came into the field. She took a look at these animals moving actively around and her eyes lit up!  With my first command, she took off after them in total joy!  They were moving!  They were running!  They were splitting up!  She dashed after the strays and happily brought them back and expertly herded them after me across the field.  This was how sheep should behave – even if they did look and smell a bit strange…

Kate was very reluctant to end her turn.

Now it was time for Chance to show what she could do. I have to admit that I was a bit worried – Chance had no qualms about grabbing sheep, and if she grabbed these goats, that didn’t have the protection of that thick long fleece, she could hurt them.

Chance came in and looked at the goats, and calmly started running around them, at a much bigger distance than she kept from sheep.  She approached them quietly and gently, hardly barking at all, and herded them without touching them or even, most of the time, getting very close to them.  She had immediately understood that these needed to be handled in a different way than the sheep – for goats, she needed to be gentle.  I was so proud of her!

I am consistently amazed at the ability of our dogs to understand new situations…!

Kate and Chance are impatiently waiting for the next time we can go to work with stock.

Manners

I was brought up by a mother who insisted that we grow up to be pleasant and cultured people (remember when things like that were important?) – and on the top of her list for that was manners.

Dogs naturally have good manners.  Puppies know that they have to be polite to adults, to say “please” in doggy language when asking for something, to very, very clearly say “I’m sorry” if they have done something to offend, and certainly to give a “thank you” tail wag.  Youngsters know that the adults have right of way and first choice of anything that is important, and woe to the puppy that ignores the rules.  Adults get respect, and that means no pushing or shoving in front of them, no grabbing things or demanding access or attention – definitely a breach of manners and totally unacceptable. 

Dogs respect one another’s personal space, and follow a well defined pattern of behavior when meeting each other.  There is no rushing up and taking unwelcome liberties, unless you are prepared to take the consequences.  And a dog never ignores another dog – if someone else is there, he has the right to be acknowledged.

 A dog in the hunting field will respect his partner in the hunt, standing behind him at the point,  and never rushing ahead to frighten off his birds.  A sheepdog will honor his work partner’s right to run forward first, if that is what the shepherd requires, and will never interfere. 

Our dogs start their lives with us with a very good basic knowledge of manners, which they have learned from their mothers and litter mates.  And then they come to live with us…

We push our way into line when it is not our turn.  We drive our cars on the highway as if there is no one else there, weaving back and forth through the lanes with the assurance that no one else has the right of way but us.  We honk our horns at the slightest provocation or non-provocation.  We shout when we don’t get our own way – immediately!  Our children are positive that nothing counts but their own opinion, and that they must be served first.   We talk on our cell phones, ignoring the fact that there are real people there who need attention.  And…

We wonder why our dogs don’t have manners. 

One can ask – who is really the animal…?



"Hey kids, behave!!!"




"Daddy, please come and play!"



Navigation

There are a lot of famous stories about dogs that have found their way home, or even to less familiar locations, over great distances and overcoming tremendous difficulties on the way.  Not all dogs have such a well developed sense of orientation and the ability to navigate so well from place to place, but all of them have it to a certain extent – certainly much better than mine…!

Just over the last few years, I know of a few Canaans that have proven their abilities.  One dog (who happens to be Habibi’s grand-uncle) was given to a new home when he was about two.  He had spent his entire life, until then, in one place, and had never even been for a car ride, and suddenly he was loaded into the car and transported about 50 kilometers to a totally unfamiliar area with new and unknown people.  He was tied out on a cable and his beloved owners left him.

Well, this definitely was not a situation that he was willing to accept.  Like any good Canaan, it didn’t take him long to figure out how to get free of his collar, and he disappeared.  The new owners called to tell his former owner that the dog was gone, they drove around looking for him, but there were no signs of Pashosh anywhere.

Two weeks later, a very thin and sore-footed Pashosh was found sitting on his first owner’s doorstep.  It had taken him time – it was a long way, and there were several major highways in the way that he would have had to cross – but he got there.  Pashosh, after demonstrating his devotion and navigation skills, was welcomed home and no further attempts were made to rehome him.

The second case was Indi, a four year old female who was placed in a new home after her elderly owner passed away.  She adjusted well and was very happy – until on one of the national holidays, fireworks were set off in the vicinity.  Many dogs every year go into a panic from fireworks, and this is what happened to Indi.  She took off and disappeared.  Her owner, who was very attached to her, even though she had only been with him for a few months, did everything possible to try and find her, with no luck.  No one had seen her, she had not been reported to the veterinary services, she was just gone.

When I thought about it, what occurred to me was that she would try to go home to her old home.  It was only about thirty kilometers away.  I suggested this, and her owner went to look, but didn’t find her.

After three and a half weeks, a tired and dirty Indi came home to her new home.  Subsequently, with some bits of information that we obtained, what seemed to have happened was that she did indeed go back to her old home – but there she found strangers living in the house, and not her beloved owner.  Seeing that this was no longer the home she had loved, she turned around and found her way back to her new home, where she had been quite happy. 

Habibi certainly shows a great sense of orientation and the ability to navigate when we are working in the field.  He always knows which way to go to get back to the road we came in on, or to get back to the car, even if we have been walking for hours and he has been doing nose work to find hidden people for his SAR practices.  He always knows where he is.

I am not so good at this, especially if it is a matter of getting around in town, in all sorts of crowded and unfamiliar streets, with traffic and one way streets that somehow seem to change from day to day.  I try to avoid going into town as much as possible, but sometimes it can’t be avoided.

So now I have a GPS.  I always thought that Israel, being such a small place, would be no problem to navigate in, and that a GPS here was silly.  But my daughter got a new one and gave me her older model.  Well, if you get something for free…!

I rarely use it.  But once in a while, when I have to find some obscure address in town, or some tiny little unobtrusive turnoff somewhere in the country, I turn it on.

My GPS is female, and she behaves like a real bitch. I can’t help it if I am navigationally challenged.  I know she has told me to turn in 23 and a half meters, but I don’t see a place to turn.  And then she starts to shout at me, “Turn now! Turn now!”  Well, it is too late, I have missed it, and then in a totally scornful and disgusted tone, she tells me, “Calculating a new route…”  Like, how stupid can you be, and now you are putting me to extra work!

I have finally managed to figure out what the various symbols on the screen mean – but I am really supposed to be watching the road, not these little arrows moving around.  And they seem often to be moving in the opposite direction from the way I am driving.  I know they are moving according to compass directions – but I am not driving according to compass directions!

One day, I was trying to get to a place in the country, where I had never been before, and I really didn’t know the way.  I was counting on GPS (no, I haven’t given her a name, if I did, it would be a very impolite one) to show me.  As we got to the general area, she went silent and the screen just showed a blank empty field.  Well, it seems that the road to my destination was a new one, which she didn’t even know existed – so no directions.  After driving around in circles for some time, I finally found my goal, but with no help from the bitch.

I really think that Habibi should learn to drive – he would do much better than me at navigation.

Media Stars

We have recently been overrun with interest in the Canaans by the media.  In the last few weeks, we had a film crew from Animal Planet doing a show about the dogs, and a photographer and writer from a very classy German dog magazine to do a feature story about them.  Very nice indeed to get so much attention, but it has certainly been exhausting.

The first to arrive was the Animal Planet crew, made up of Joe, the guy in charge who arrived from the US just for this project, and the cameraman, sound man, and driver, who were local.  Major interest, of course, was to show the Canaans in as natural an environment as possible, ideally to be able to show free living dogs or Canaans with the Bedouin.  Then, in addition, the plan was to film puppies at my place, and dogs that are family pets with others.  And all of this in two and a half days.

We are fortunate in that Israel is a very small country, and what is considered a long distance drive here is a picnic to an American.  So driving an hour or two south to get to suitable areas was not at all daunting for Joe.

Finding free living Canaans is just about impossible, unless you have a few weeks or months to learn the area, discover their habits and daily schedule and have the time to sit and wait for them to possibly show up.  So the Bedouin were our best bet.  The Canaans are working dogs for the Bedouin, notifying all and sundry if anyone or anything gets within a kilometer or so of the camp, and going out with the herds of sheep to protect them from anything that might be threatening. 

However, making an appointment with a Bedouin is another story.  Luckily, in our modern times, the Bedouin have cell phones.  So we did have the possibility of getting in touch with our friend Salame, who is the head man of one of settlements, and has helped us in the past in finding and catching Canaans.  Salame is a very intelligent guy, and quite up to date on what is happening in the world, and has no objections at all to being seen on television.  So he was quite willing for the film crew come out to film his dogs.

The Bedouin concept of time and its importance is a bit different from that of a film crew.  The Animal Planet people had a definite date for the filming, and wanted assurances that Salame would be available, that there would be dogs to film, and a number of other demands that I immediately told them to forget about – such as filming me riding on a camel.  Salame was very casual about it all – yes, he thought that their date was okay… More reassurances than that were impossible to get, since he often didn’t answer his phone (which is a very new and advanced model iphone) for several days at a time.  But I trusted that it would work out, since he had always been quite reliable in the past.

So the crew, equipped with a big van – I had warned them that they needed a vehicle that could go off road in rough and rocky territory – picked me up, and we headed to the “desert”. 

The picture that the uninitiated have of a desert is something out of Laurence of Arabia, sand everywhere, dunes and trackless wilderness with no signs of any sort of life, whether animal or vegetable.  Here, it is not like that. In Hebrew, it is actually called  “wilderness”, which is what it is – very rocky and mountainous, with deep ravines and wadis, and with sparse, tough vegetation growing among the stones.  This time of year, in the spring after the winter rains, there is quite a lot of green, and some areas are very lush and full of flowers.  It is a harsh landscape, but very beautiful, I have always loved it.

We rumbled up up to Salame’s camp over the rocky and potholed dirt track – which again, is certainly not something out of the movies.  Nowadays, few Bedouin have tents anymore, they have all built houses.  In a prosperous village like Salame’s, the houses are well built of concrete, but in the poorer settlements, they are just made of huge pieces of tin sheeting – I would not care to be inside of one of those in the heat of summer.  There is the area that used to be a tent outside of the house, with a roof and canvas around the sides for protection from sun and wind, and there guests are welcomed, with the traditional mattresses and cushions on the floor and the fire pit for making tea and coffee.

All of this is spotless.  However, anything outside the borders of the house itself is pretty much a junk heap.  The Bedouin are very frugal and save and collect everything that might someday be of use, and all of this is piled around, seasoned with old plastic soft drink bottles, plastic bags, and other stuff that is no longer of use.  There is no interest in the esthetics of the camp. When the film crew suggested to Salame that some old bottles and such be removed from an area that they wanted to film, he called a few kids over and had them move them – they picked them up and threw them further down the hill.

We arrived at the time that had been set with Salame – but, of course, he wasn’t there.  When would he get back? Well, soon…maybe an hour or two…he was coming….Meanwhile, we were settled in the coffee tent with a few of his brothers and children.  All of the camp children that had nothing else to do hung around also – this was a great break in their routine. 

I am accustomed to this sort of thing, but Joe and crew were a bit worried about the waste of time, and started to ask about dogs.  Dogs?  The men looked blank (there were, of course, only men and male children to greet us, women have more important things to do, like taking care of everything else in daily life) and the kids thought it really funny that anyone should be interested in dogs.

Finally, Salame arrived.  By now it was about noon, and it was very hot.  A lot of the time planned for filming had passed non productively.  And now it turned out that there was a wedding being held that afternoon in the camp, with relatives and friends coming from far and wide to participate, and they would start arriving in a few hours.  Dogs?  Oh yes, dogs…But first we needed to drink coffee and tea, and taste some of the food which was ready for the wedding…It was absolutely delicious, by the way!

There were some dogs in the camp, according to Salame, that stayed at home to guard, and there were others that went out every day with the sheep.  Where were the sheep?  Salame squinted at the horizon and pointed at some vague dots high up the side of a mountain about two or three kilometers across the valley – “There they are!”  No road access, of course. But they would be coming back later…

Meanwhile, we started walking around the camp looking for dogs.  The dogs, not being as foolish as us, were lying in various patches of shade, watching us but quite indifferent, since we were obviously insignificant.  When we got too near, they got up, barked, and moved away to a new patch of shade, usually somewhere off on the other side of the hill, where they would be left in peace.  They were indeed Canaans, but not really beautiful ones.

Since one of my major interests in this whole project was to possibly find some new stock with potential for bringing new bloodlines into our breeding, I was feeling quite frustrated.  And then, another dog came out from behind a pile of junk and started to bark at us.

This one was beautiful!  A perfectly typical Canaan, and obviously, from his behavior, a top dog in the camp, he kept his distance, but warned us that we were definitely trespassing and he did not approve!  This was a dog I would love to have!

However, with a wedding about to take place, and guests starting to arrive, this was not a time to talk to Salame about catching dogs – it was enough that he had spared the time for us.  So we and the film crew photographed, and decided to move on. 

The children were quite disappointed that we were going.  We had attracted quite an entourage as we walked around the village – I was beginning to feel like the Pied Piper.  This tribe are very good looking people, and the children were all dressed up for the wedding, and followed us around giggling as we tried to get close to the dogs.  How strange these city people were.

The sheep would be coming home soon, as we got towards evening, and we decided to drive around the area, looking for the herds, and going through some of the other villages to see if there were dogs there.  The villages were almost completely empty, as everyone had gone to the wedding, and we saw a few dogs around but not many.  We found some of the herds, who were now down in the valley on their way home, accompanied by the teenage boys who herded them.  Often the women go out with the herds, but not today – they were busy with the wedding.  The boys thought it was very funny for us to ask about dogs.  Yes, there were dogs around…Where? Well, somewhere, they will come out when they want to…

The sun was going down and it was time to head back north.  And then two Canaans came trotting across the fields towards the sheep.  They had been, sensibly, spending the heat of the day in the shade, and now they made a large circle around the flock, checking that everything was okay so that they could accompany them home.

The next day of filming was much easier.  We went to Tel Lachish, a beautiful archaeological site which was especially lovely at this time of year, and my friends who have three Canaans let them run free on the hill so that they could be photographed in nature.  They looked wonderful running through the tall grass (you can see some of my photos of that on Facebook).  It was still quite hot, and the crew were rather disappointed when the dogs weren’t willing, after running around for an hour or two, to go back and run around some more.  Dogs don’t really care much about the concept of multiple takes…But they did get some good shots. 

Then the puppies were filmed at my place, running around and destroying the garden and playing with my grandson – both the puppies and my grandson have plenty of energy, so there were no problems there.

So all of this will result in maybe ten minutes that will be broadcast eventually…But I am hoping that it will be worth the effort! 

A few days after this, a very professional photographer arrived from Germany to photograph Canaans for an article in a very high toned German dog magazine.  She spent a few days in the south with a friend of mine, photographing his dogs in the scenery of the desert, also went to Tel Lachish, and photographed the dogs here.  And to complete her article, she decided that she had to photograph me with Habibi, with the landscape of the desolate beauty of the area around the Dead Sea as the background.  So off we drove to the Dead Sea.

It is not far, only about an hour’s drive or so.  This was the first time Habibi was ever in the desert.  We stopped at a location that suited the photographer and got out of the car.  Habibi’s nose was in the air, testing all of these strange scents and examining everything in this new place. 

It took a few hours – this photographer is very professional and very, very thorough and took thousands of photos.  The wind rises in the desert as it gets towards evening, and it was getting chilly.  Habibi had already inspected everything, including the camels at a distance, horses and riders going past, jeeps raising clouds of dust, a few Bedouin women walking by, and was really getting bored with it all.

Finally we were finished and went back to the car. Habibi gave a sigh of relief.  Desert dog?  No way!  He has no interest in spending any more time in the land of his ancestors.  My bed in the Jerusalem hills is where he wants to be.

The beautiful Bedouin boy

One of the children, fascinated by the camera

Salame in his festive dress

Changing Lives

This is a good time of year, I think, to talk about some of the very good things about dogs…

Meet Meshi.  She is litter sister to Jenny, my very successful show puppy, but although she is only ten months old, she is already learning to take life seriously.  For the last few months she has been learning her life’s work of being friend, companion, and guardian to Amit, a 10 year old autistic boy.

Most of us know about the difficulties of special needs children from reading about them, and seeing documentaries or films.   As informative as all of this is, it can not give us any real understanding of the needs and feelings of these children and their families, that live and cope with this 24/7, and still do their best to live normal, happy and productive lives. 

I can not pretend to really comprehend what life is like with an autistic child.  But I can see, in my visits to see Meshi’s progress, how life for an autistic child and his family can change, just through the simple process of adding a dog – the right dog! – to the family.

Meshi somehow knows that she belongs to Amit, and that he is her first priority at all times, even when Amit’s older brother offers her a treat or a game.  This is not a result of training, it is the result of a bonding that occurred from Meshi’s first days in her new home.  Amit can be difficult – he can shout at her, pull her coat instead of petting her, tease, ignore her, try to run away – none of this matters to Meshi.  Not only does she belong to Amit, but he belongs to her, and even at her young age, she accepts the responsibility.

Since Meshi has been a part of the household, life has changed.  Amit’s father told me that before Meshi, he could never talk to his friends and acquaintances when he went for a walk with Amit in the park near their home.  His attention had to be constantly on his son, and he had to hold his hand all the time, as Amit otherwise could in an instant run off and not respond to calls, a potentially dangerous situation.  Now, Meshi is with Amit.  She blocks him from running off, attracts his attention and distracts him from inappropriate behaviors, and is his playmate and companion as well as guardian, always patient, always attentive, always loving.  Amit’s father can walk along talking with his friends, knowing that Meshi will not let Amit get too far away.  It has even become possible for Amit to go down to the park below the family apartment with Meshi and walk with her alone, while father or mother watch from the window.  Amit can start to build up independent behavior which will help him in future.

Amit’s parents are now able to get a good night’s sleep without him waking them;  Meshi sleeps with him, reassures him if he wakes up, and keeps him calm and secure so that he can return to sleep.

Meshi still has many more things to learn to make her an effective service dog, but she has already proven herself.

Meshi has two older sisters, Micki and Nikki, who are now two years old.  They are both working service dogs, and have been working for over a year.  They have a different specialization, both of them are working with epileptic teenagers.

Before the dogs joined their families, Tom and Ehud, both severely epileptic and often having up to several severe attacks a day, were very limited in their activities.  They had to wear a helmet at all times, to protect their heads from injury at the sudden onset of a fit, which could cause a blackout and fall.  But worse was the emotional effect;  they were ashamed and embarrassed  to spend time with other teenagers, as they never knew when an attack would occur.  They could never go out without someone accompanying them.  Even going to school was dreaded, as attacks often took place there as well.

Micki and Nikki do not cure the epilepsy.  But they do change the quality of life.  Both of the dogs, by making use of their intense connection to their boys and their keen senses and instincts, have learned to give warning in advance of epileptic episodes.  Even a few seconds of warning is enough for Tom or Ehud to sit down and prepare himself, and to alert help if necessary.  Sometimes the warning can be a few minutes or more in advance. 

But even more, having the dogs gives them confidence and the ability to participate in teenage social life.  The dogs are an icebreaker, a point of conversation, and something special and positive.  Ehud travels alone on the train with Nikki, to come to practice sessions with her. And I saw Tom recently, accompanied by Micki, at a “happening” in a local park, which was for the benefit of organizations that assist with a variety of health problems.  In the past, Tom would never have been willing to expose himself to a crowded public situation.  On this day, he was able to stand in front of the crowd and explain what Micki does for him, and afterwards to talk with a number of kids of his own age, including a pretty teenage girl who also has problems with epilepsy – Tom was proudly explaining to her the advantages of having a dog, and taking her phone number to stay in touch.

These wonderful dogs, that I am so proud of having bred, are representative of many – some dogs are changing people’s lives… 



Nikki




Meshi



Noseprints

It is that time of year again, the season of housecleaning and cooking…

If there was an Olympic medal for housekeeping, my mother would have been an eternal undefeated winner of the gold.  Our house was always spotless when I was growing up.  One of the most dreaded tasks of my childhood was crawling around under our huge dining room table cleaning the dust out of the elaborately carved feet.  And my mother would check to make sure it was done properly.

I never really understood why it was so important to clean in places like that. No one ever looked under the table, under the sofa, or on the top bookshelf…except my mother...

Pets, obviously, were not  very compatible with this attitude, and so we rarely had any.  Although I did try to bring home dogs a few times, they never lasted long.  But for some reason that was never clear to me, my mother did have a parakeet that she loved dearly, and he, named “Feathers”,  was allowed to fly freely around the house and leave feathers and other little souvenirs behind, and even to walk around on the kitchen table; my mother cheerfully cleaned up after him without a word.

The “good” furniture was always covered with clear plastic slipcovers, so that you could see how beautiful and comfortable it looked, but couldn’t get it dirty.  No one sat on it anyway, those slick thick plastic covers were not at all comfortable.  They came off only when we had really special company coming.

The genetics of this insatiable drive to clean seem to have skipped a generation.  Even though she has cats, dogs and children, my daughter’s house is always immaculate and looks like it could be featured in a perfect homemaker’s magazine.  Mine does not at all fall into the same classification.

It’s not that I don’t clean, I do like my surroundings to be clean and in order…reasonably… It is just that cleaning is definitely not my first priority.  In fact, if it is anywhere in the list of priorities, it would be towards the end.  There are a number of reasons – for one, there are a lot of better things I can think of to do with my time, for another, probably no one is going to come to visit in the next few days and see the place, and even if someone does, they probably won’t notice a difference, and anyway, in a few hours it will look the same again.

It’s not that the house is “dirty”.  Actually, at first glance it looks pretty good.  As long as no one decides to look under the bed (after all, why would they?) or pick up one of the trophies on the shelf, which have accumulated about a three year dust layer around them, I can get away with it.  And with the dogs coming in and greeting everyone, and rubbing off hair on all of the visitors’ dressy clothes,(I always find it hard to understand why people come to visit a kennel dressed in white and fragile materials...), no one really bothers about the state of the house.

My house has glass doors.  I like to have things light and bright, and I like to be able to see the dogs when they are outside and for them to be able to see me.  But when I put the doors in, I forgot about a very important point – nose prints and puppy licking.  When I first installed the doors, I would clean the glass every day, sometimes even several times a day, so that I had a bright and unimpeded view.  And as soon as I came back inside, the dogs’ noses would be pressed up against the glass, and the puppies would start pawing and licking, and the doors were ready for cleaning again.  By now, I have gotten to the point where, if I can still see the dogs through the nose prints, and there is still some light coming through, it is good enough.  If the nose prints are so thick that I can’t tell which dogs are standing there, it is time to clean the windows again.

Cooking is another task that I am not prepared to spend much time on.  It is not that I don’t enjoy tasty food or a variety of styles.  But I simply can’t see the sense of spending hours of meticulous preparation, involving multiple pots, pans and other utensils, all of which need to be washed, precise cutting, dicing, slicing, marinating, and the constant danger of fingers being in the wrong place, to produce something that is completely consumed in ten minutes.  Even the enthusiastic raving over how good it was is not enough to compensate for those long hours spent wasted over the kitchen stove.

And then there is the washing up after. I don’t mind washing dishes, but washing a lot of dishes, along with pots, pans, and other utensils, is another story.  Of course, I could follow the method of an old friend of mine – when she had a lot of guests and a lot of dishes and such to wash, she would simply put them on the floor for the dogs to lick.  This method also works to lower the number of guests who come to eat at your house in future, therefore resulting in less dishes to wash…

Sometimes I am just tired or busy, and I try to tell myself that I can skip the housekeeping this week;  no one will notice ...  But the lessons of my mother are indelible and the guilt feelings if I don’t at least do the minimum are hard to bear.  So I do a quick once over of the things that are apparent – not under the beds or behind the refrigerator, of course – so that my conscience can tell me that I did clean the house. 

Habibi watches through the glass door,  waiting for me to be finished so he can come back in.  Somehow he always manages to step in a puddle just before he steps through the door, happily renewing the pawprints on the floor and making  the place feel familiar again.

Meeting and Greeting

Habibi loves having people come to visit.

Visitors means that Habibi can bark. He loves to bark – Habibi is a very communicative dog, and barking is not only communicating, it gets a reaction.  He looks really ferocious when he is standing at the gate, nose pressed against the bars, hackles up, barking vociferously, or in the house, jumping up on the glass entry door with his barks resounding through the entire room.  He never bites anyone – but people who have not made his acquaintance don’t know this, and I am positive that there are many people who do know him who are not so sure about this.  Habibi loves that!

When the visitors come in, allowed by me, the pack leader, to cross the guarded threshold, he is not daunted.  He circles around and around, still barking, until he has managed to direct them to where he wants them – sitting in the living room on the sofa.  Once he has gotten them to sit, it is much easier to keep an eye on them.  He may cautiously inspect them, coming over to take a good sniff while growling under his breath to make sure that they don’t decide to move.  Some of the more privileged may even be allowed to stroke him.  But that doesn’t mean that they are accepted.  He sits next to me, keeping an eagle eye on what is going on; should anyone be bold enough to make a movement that is more than miniscule, he is immediately on his feet and ready for action.  Should anyone be a real risk taker and stand up, that is cause for a lunge forward accompanied by ferocious barking until he has made sure that the audacious  person is once more sitting where he should be.

Sometimes Habibi finds that visitors start to ignore him or don’t award him the necessary respect.  This often happens when we are out in the yard, and they dare to look at the other dogs or pet a puppy.  This calls for not only barking, but a nose jab at the back of the legs to make sure they pay attention.  A nose jab is really a super tool for getting a reaction from people who are engrossed in conversation with me (how dare they think they are important enough to take my attention away from him!) – and the results are very amusing.  Watching people take a leap into the air is always fun…

Habibi is happy to welcome all guests, to add some spice to life…