Into the Hills

This morning I went over to meet Luke, the EC. He lives in NW. A blue roan about a year and a half old. He was so charming, and had eyelashes about inch and a half long. I was mesmerized by them, honestly. He was a happy, sweet loving dog. Loves his mouth and what he can do with it. Motors along by the propellar that is his tail. Easily distracted, but very compliant when she (Lois) had his attention. She is training him in obedience and I can tell they have a lot of fun.
I like him a lot; I liked his size, his impish expression, his joy, his shaggy paws.

Afterwards I was on my way to the bank to finally deposit my check from PDX , leaving messages for Mark to be sure he meant it when he said he’d back me up when Arlene called. She wants to know. She wants to know. We must’ve talked for over an hour while I wound through the west hills and down to the credit union where I sat in the car watching the gas station and the line of cars at the light.

I told her. If “bitty” this available girl turns out to show real promise in temperament for a therapy dog…then I’m in. She wants to know what she’ll do if some nice couple calls who want a dog to hang out with and they want a little girl…Tell them to wait until they’re temperment tested. Lots of litters are unknown for a while. Aren’t they keeping anybody? I know one girl is going up to Canada, orange girl I guess. The other could be mine. Its your litter, I don’t want to tell you what to do, I said, and if she goes, I’ll be OK…but why not give us the chance. It could be a real team. But I don’t want to lose a great home…if it’s the right home, they’ll wait a little bit and yes, I’ll fly out when they’re 6 7 8 weeks old.

I heard myself talking. I heard how calm I was, how much sense I made, how strong I sounded, even as I was whispering really loudly to myself: what the hell are you doing!! If I gotta trust one of those voices, I’ll trust the one that showed up on the outside….becasue I’m no good at faking when my mouth opens.

Tonight I’m reading English cocker stuff, learning what slabsided means, and how a forechest looks…I am studying the outline I’d have one. A jolly, merry little dog.

Although what sold me on the FS is a breed standard that reads::

The Field Spaniel is a combination of beauty and utility. It is a well balanced, substantial hunter-companion of medium size, built for activity and endurance in a heavy cover and water. It has a noble carriage; a proud but docile attitude; is sound and free moving. Symmetry, gait, attitude and purpose are more important than any one part.
expression: Grave, gentle and intelligent.

Now let’s look at the EC standard:
he English Cocker Spaniel is an active, merry sporting dog, standing well up at the withers and compactly built. He is alive with energy; his gait is powerful and frictionless, capable both of covering ground effortlessly and penetrating dense cover to flush and retrieve game. His enthusiasm in the field and the incessant action of his tail while at work indicate how much he enjoys the hunting for which he was bred. His head is especially characteristic. He is, above all, a dog of balance, both standing and moving, without exaggeration in any part, the whole worth more than the sum of its parts.

expression: Soft, melting, yet dignified, alert, and intelligent.

So you have:
noble, gentle intelligent vs
soft, , merry intelligent

The description of the FS is a description of a dog I could adore.

Now I need to keep the papillons safe from a dog of substance, and myself moving to the beat of the rest of my life.

I myself move through the hills. Up, , around, taking sharp curves coasting without the brakes. One minute I have clarity so clear, it rings like crystal in my solar plexus. An hour later, a monkey fist rolls around under my ribs, making the lining of my stomach ache.

Oddly, the people in my life who I count on for support seem to vacillate as well…one moment exciteted about what Ive found..the next shaking their heads in perplexity. Why a bigger dog? Why another dog? Why this?

Why. Because the elements of my life that make me who I am --at my best --are lining up like constellations in this 50th year. They draw a map of the night sky and in it, I travel, up out of the chair, up from the long nap, away from the endless www history and out into the world. Walking. Moving. Sharing the gifts I have found along the way.
Doing good.

the books I write. the dogs I partner with. the man I fly this spaceship with. the

versus

The EC is a great size. Would fit in the corgi crates. Blue Roans have those fabulous big black paws and maps in their coats.

The FS standard calls for: a noble carriage. grave, gentle intelligent expression.

So.....

what DID happen to the collie?

A Dip

Today I feel overwhelmed and pressured.
The H/E litter came up on me so fast... and when I talk to A, I vacillate, hem & haw, stall. She must think I'm so confused! Well actually, I bet she doesn't. She knows exactly how this is, being a thorough investigator herself.

Grooming. Activity. Size. Temperament. I look at my papillons and think how perfect they are.
But for the next step, my vision of the next work...they aren't the right ones. I want something more Newfy-like...Big, slow, sweet. Wait. Not big. Bigger.

Meeting the Field

Drove through a cold drizzle up to Ridgefield, to an agility trial to meet a single FS from No. Washington. M and Gus came along for company. It is a familiar venue, one in which I think I first met DW. A huge drafty horse arena at the edge of the broken down fairgrounds; mud and piles of wood, gravel roads that need replenishing, barns that need whitewashing. Still. It hums with dogs and those who love them.

If ease is part of the criteria, well, this is qualifying. The ease with which I contacted A and then she called me. The trust she puts in my endeavor. The response from Laird about the BD/LD question. The impeccable pedigree of the current litter. The fact that as soon as I got out the car and was putting on my muck boots, I spotted the Field in her snood going for a hurry up.

I thought she was very pretty and shiny, black, with a soulful sweet, moderate head and face. She weighed about 35lbs-- a very manageable size. Smaller, in fact, than I imagined. But then H was the other FS I met, and he’s on the big side…and a boy.

She was quite aloof. She accepted—quite happily---treats, but she eyed me coolly.. and I heard the story of how far she has come out of her misanthropy. She LOVES her mom though, and was very sweet, the way she lay aginst her, head on her bosom.

This was not therapy dog material. The standard does mention the reticence of the Field with strangers. Reticence not to be confused with shyness. Still, in her it ran a little too deep. Her mom said she was scocialized as a puppy, but she also said that she snapped at a man who came at her too straight and she never quite came out of her shell unless she knew you for awhile.

I loved her head. I loved the solid silkiness of her. I went to feel Field spaniel presence, and I liked it. Maybe not this girl, but I was hooked. She seemed quite calm too.

Interesting breed. Very calm, watchful. Soulful. Good. 8 out of 10

I talked to Joan and Q for a bit. Q, the blue merle Aussie is so handsome. I saw Nikki. I thought I might have seen an EC, but I think it was an AC…a roan headed into a crate. Jill J with her corgis. Everyone was cold and damp. I went out to the car to get Gussie a quilt. M wrapped him up in it and held him in his lap on the bleachers. I was really happy I had that quilt for him….one I made coming in so useful.

I got home to some EC letters. Finally got the email addys of the woman up in Seattle who do therapy & obedience with ECs. And the number of a woman who lives quite close by who has an EC from the contact for the Cascade ECSC. Eclipse. Very warm letters, BTW. I know nothing about the dogs. Oh! and some new photos of the H/E puppies.

BigDog/LittleDog

That tide. It rolls up and falls back. I chase it back and forth. I stand in it and feel it rise and fall. It pulls all the water in my brain with it so that sometimes I bubble over with joy; other times the sand is so dry it hurts. Which is to say that I have a lot of feelings and they change by the hour.

And yet I feel all shiny. I feel all bright eyed. There is a lot of energy in this project. I really like this spaniel tribe. It’s kind of like embroidery. If you told me 15 years ago I would be jonesin’ for a flushing spaniel, I’d have laughed in disbelief.

I asked the people on the Papillon list to write me with stories of their experience with keeping Papillons with larger breeds. 10 to 1, the stories are positive. When they go bad, they are tragic. I am trying to map the course of those tragedies.

Here is what I learned:
-Avoid extremes of size difference
-Teach the big dog impeccable door manners.
-Never leave them out alone together or let them run in the yard together.
-Honestly assess the temperaments of your dogs. Little dogs who taunt big dogs are a tragedy waiting to happen, no matter how good-natured the big dog. yet:
-Allow the little dogs to rule
-Learn to read dog.
(Patricia McConnell’s For the Love of a Dog is an excellent book on the body language and expressions of dogs.)

All of the tragedies I heard of involved either tiny papillons or puppies and much larger dogs OR power struggles between males OR the big dog aging and or in some discomfort so that what didn’t bother him before, bothers him now.

AC wrote me that another FS breeder’s mother has 10 FS and a 4lb papillon.

I think they are going to use the new neuro programming with the puppies. I’ll talk more about that later. I want them to temperment test and pay attention to defensivenss and pain thresholds. The less defensive and pain sensitive, the more likely the potential for a therapy dog.

SM said she thought the one who would test best would be a male…There are 4 boys and 2 girls. I think one of the girls and the liver/tan boy are spoken for.

The Return of the Field Spaniel

The tide comes in and goes out. Who knows what it carries? I thought the Field spaniel had gone out with the tide…until AC called this afternoon trying to suss out my current intentions. We talked about size…she said, “You’re gonna get an English Cocker.” And I thought she was making a prediction.but I think she was asking a question.

I really have fallen for the breed. I love that the standard calls for a noble carriage and gentle grave intelligent eyes. I love that they will carry their own ear in their mouth if they can’t find anything else to carry around. And there’s this other thing, they remind me of a well worn leather jacket that fits perfectly. One you always want to put on.

Then I was all nudgey…I can’t let the balloon go, so I called my vet and asked him about big dog little dog households and he said not to give it a second thought; if anything, the little dogs pick on the big one. Go for it, was his answer. How cool that you found your dream dog. (My dream dogS. I have already 3.)

Then I was nudgey all evening when we were sitting in the theater watching William Hurt as Dr Astroff in Vanya. When we came home, M and I talked about it again. The conversation does not go well. Plus he’s tired. I should NEVER talk to Mark at night. The morning is a much better bet. In any case:

He thinks it would be irresponsible to bring a new dog in. Mainly because he thinks the parrots don’t get enough attention. And it would complicate things. It’s true about the parrots, about whom I am at a loss. I find it difficult to engage with them, and they won’t really just hang out. Well She won’t. She wants interaction. I need to address this more vigorously.

I don’t mind complications. Sometimes they are irritating and overwhelming…but in this arena they are always interesting.

The tide also brought in a piece of the bowl I had only subconsciously recognized…which is that M is not charmed by the spaniels. He still thinks corgi, collie papillon. Not a bad way to think…but I believe he’s kind of taken aback by my fervor. He’s very loyal, he is, to what he knows and loves. I find that moving.

It has to be a joint venture. And he’s right. But that doesn’t make the idea go away, nor does it make it a “bad idea.” He has reason to stand on. Practicality, reasonableness. There is no argument. But it leaves a flat plane in my heart where there were tall noisy grasses on mountains that hurry down to the sea.