Our favourite beach

We've been enjoying our walks lately.  Our most regular walking spot is at Botany Bay which lies between Margate and Broadstairs. A typical walk will consist of Grey barking in excitement as soon as I stop the car to park. I wait until he stops to let him out. We spend about 15 minutes zig zag walking on the top field changing directions and walking in what must look like a crazy woman with a mad dog. We often see dog friends and their owners up on this stretch. We've been working on an alternative behaviour for bike and jogger chasing which has really pulled off. Grey is cued, 'ready!' which is what I use when I'm going to throw his favourite toy or stones in the sea. So if I see a bike I cue 'ready!' and then 'wait' and then 'find it' for bit of clearly thrown down sausage. So bikes now mean this game, well 95% of the time if I see them in time.

I also use a 'let's go to the beach' cue and run to the direction of the beach path, which also works as Grey loves the run down to the beach. It's one of his most favourite things in the world. This path is really special to us. Every day I climb down, holding on to the chalk with my hands. It's lovely and smooth and organic. I think it's my destress trigger. After that quick climb down I hit soft golden sand, dunes, grasses and then the sea. It's my daily bit of therapy.

Without Grey I wouldn't do that every day. And I like it whatever the weather.  It's a special place for me and him.

Today we went out to near Reculver. Grey found a baby fox cub. Grey left it alone when I told him to. That was quite a surprise.

Look at this clever girlie slovak do some lovely water retrieves

I don't think my Grey and I will ever have the patience or dedication to achieve this. But so lovely to see a gundog like the girlie Grey clearly enjoying retrieves and having ham as a lovely treat. Positive gundog training can and does work.

Article: Hounded out: Why dogs are struggling to fit into modern life by John Bradshaw

Dogs are in crisis. We either treat them like rabid wolves, or furry humans. No wonder they're confused, writes animal behaviourist John Bradshaw. But the latest research can now reveal what our canine friends would tell us – if only they knew how

"The first dog that I became attached to was one I never met. He was my grandfather's Cairn terrier, Ginger. Stories about Ginger were, for a while, the nearest I came to having a dog of my own. My grandfather liked to walk. He walked to and from his office in the industrial city of Bradford, on the Yorkshire moors, in the Lake District, or in Snowdonia. Whenever he could, he took Ginger. The family maintained that Ginger had acquired his longer than average legs through all this exercise. Actually, in the photographs he looks quite typical of his breed, and not unlike the Cairn chosen to play 'Toto' in the 1939 movie The Wizard of Oz. I doubt many modern Cairns would enjoy the amounts of exercise that my grandfather evidently relished.

What amazed me the most was the freedom Ginger had been given. Every lunchtime, when my grandfather was at work, Ginger was allowed to take himself for a walk around the neighbourhood. Apparently he had a routine. First he would cross the road into Lister Park, where he would sniff lamp-posts, interact with other dogs and, in summer, try to persuade the occupants of the park benches to part with sandwiches. Then he would cross the tram tracks and amble to the rear of the fish and chip shop, where a scratch at the back door would usually elicit a handful of scraps of batter and some misshapen chips. Then he usually headed straight for home, which involved crossing a busy junction. Here, according to family legend, there was usually a policeman, directing the lunchtime traffic, who would solemnly stop the cars to allow Ginger safe passage across.

About 70 years have passed since Ginger was allowed to roam the streets. During that same period, almost unnoticed, there have been enormous changes in society's attitudes towards man's best friend. After many millennia in which the dog has been man's closest animal companion, cats are taking over as the most popular pet in many countries, including the United Kingdom. Dogs today unwittingly find themselves on the verge of a crisis, struggling to keep up with the ever-increasing pace of change in human society. Until a little over 100 years ago, most dogs worked for their living. First and foremost, dogs were tools. Their agility and quick thinking, their keen senses and their unparalleled ability to communicate with humans suited them for an extraordinary diversity of tasks, hunting, herding, guarding and many others, each an important component of the economy. In short, dogs had to earn their keep..."

Full article here:

http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/house-and-home/pets/features/hounded-out-why-dogs-are-struggling-to-fit-into-modern-life-2307771.html

 

The article is accompanied by photos of a beautiful female Slovakian Rough Haired Pointer called Billie who sadly passed away in 2009 aged 6. She was owned by animal photographer Dan Burn-Foti.

Grey was ill this last week but ok now

Back to the vets this week. Just when I thought we were going to break the cycle of at least one yearly major trip to the vets. He started being sick lots after meals. Throwing up undigested food. We thought there was a blockage so we took him in. Two hundred odd quid later, 2 xrays and whatever else goes on the bill and we clarified there was no blockage but it might have been caused by pork bones. On the way home in the car, grey had explosive diareah in his crate. Not pleasant for both of us on the half hour journey home. He had another accident in the house so really not a happy slovak.

He spent the next two days resting and eating small portions of chicken and rice. He then quickly bounced back to his full Slovak self.

While under sedation the vets cut his nails and emptied anal glands. The glands were really full. He was sadly really stressed at the vets and really won't let anyone touch his bum there. So we're going to have to really work on vet handling or he will become a dog that always has to be sedated for minor procedures. Such a shame as he used to be fine at the vets.