On the Behavior of Dogs.......

When we emerged for our daily dog walk, sometime before 9 AM this morning, we were greeted by overcast skies and a temperature of about 75 degrees.  However, it was not the 75 degrees of late autumn, or, around here, of early winter.  It was not a 75 degrees with clear, crisp skies, with a slight breeze that might add just a touch of a refreshing bite.  This was 75 degrees with thick, heavy, humid air, much closer to today's low temperature than what will be today's high.  I knew sweat would be rolling off me before we had travelled very far.

Today is also trash day.  Pickles loves trash day, as long as we dont meet any big, loud trucks.  On the walk, once we got off our property, she fell right into walking mode.  I have her on a leash, but it hangs loose, and she walks along side of me with her head about at my knee.  I was looking around, not really paying attention when I felt a tug on the leash.  Pickles had stopped.  Not only had she stopped but she was rubbing her shoulder and then her whole side into the pavement, in the remnants of some liquefied detritus from a garbage truck.  It was only then that I noticed the smell - aided by the heaviness of the air it was overpowering to me.  But to Pickles the Dog, it was heaven on earth.  A sweet ambrosia.  Eau de Garbazhe.  I paid more attention as the walk continued.

As we approached the railroad tracks across Praley, I heard a dog bark.  That's not unusual, there is a dog up on the corner of St. Germain who frequently barks, but this bark was coming from a slightly different direction - in the same general direction I was planning to walk.  I always pay attention when I think their may be strange dogs about.

Pickles' behavior on a leash is different from her behavior off a leash.  On the leash, we walk past barking dogs (either behind a fence or chained up) and she pays them no mind.  She might look at them, but she doesnt bark at them or go crazy or try to get to them.  She just trots nicely along, giving anyone who notices a misguided impression that she's a good dog.  If we meet another dog walker, and they're on the other side of the road, same thing.  The other dog might be going crazy, but Pickles doesnt even seem to notice.  If a dog is loose and approaches, Pickles wants to play, but she's not too pushy about it. 

Off the leash, it's another story.  We don't routinely let her run loose, but she keeps a good look out in the house.  If another dog, cat or person comes on our property, she goes ballistic.  She can also get very excited if she's riding and we see another dog.  Once when she was a puppy, she jumped out of the window of our truck, while it was moving (slowly, thank heavens) past a neighbor's dog.  They stood there face to face about a foot a part and barked at each other.

So, why is she so docile on a leash, and so excitable when she's not on a leash?  I've had this long standing "dog behind a fence" theory of behavior, which I also apply to humans. My theory is a dog tends to be more aggressive when there is no possibility of physically confronting the object of the aggression.  Or conversely, when there is no possibility of the object of the aggression physically confronting the dog.  Substitute human for dog, for a more general application of the theory.  I don't know if this is true or not, I've done no studies, no dogs have filled out questionnaires.  And obviously this would not apply to dogs who may be sociopaths or psychotic, just your normal goofy tail wagging bone chewing dog.  But I think it's true.

Pickles the Dog Vents

It's hot these days, and even tho the dog and I take our walk in the morning (2 miles, give or take), the heat and the humidity are quite evident.  

We have several routes we can take, but I've found that on most occasions I'm following the path with the most shady spots.  When we pass from sun to shade the change in temperature is quite noticeable, at least to me.  Of course humans perspire differently than dogs, so I don't know if Pickles notices it as much.  But I sure do.  I do know that if given a choice of laying down in the sun or the shade, she'll pick the shade every time.  Me too, for that matter.

No matter what, when we get back from these walks, sweat is literally dripping off me, and the dog is involved in some very heavy panting.  We've both developed an after dog walk routine - I stand under a ceiling fan and luxuriate in the cool air blowing down on my sweat covered self.  Pickles plants herself right over top of an air conditioning vent.  She does that so much now that we say she's venting.

After a couple of minutes we both go somewhere else. 

Florence & Felix Leger

First I want to apologize in advance to any Leger's living in the in the area - I mean no disrespect, none at all.

One of my frequent dog walks is what I call the cemetery route.  It's up on a hill, it has well defined walking areas, it's peaceful up there and you get beautiful views in every direction.  It's a nice walk.

I pay attention to the headstones and frequently wonder about the lives of the people buried there. One that has repeatedly drawn my attention, and my wondering, has been the marker for Florence and Felix Leger, who both died young, within 7 months of each other. 

First, I assumed they were married.  They share the same last name and the same headstone, Felix is somewhat older than Florence so it fit nicely with preconceived notions and assumptions.  But you wonder what could cause a husband to die just past his 33rd birthday, and a wife to die 7 months later a month shy of her 24th birthday?  My thoughts were accident or disease, not entirely original thoughts, or even hard to think of thoughts.  Anyway, I've been walking up that way for some time now, and I've frequently wondered what happened, but I just let it go.

Well, I mentioned this to Patti Anne and she did some quick research.  Her research turned up some interesting things and some discrepancies, as research often does.  Had we the money and inclination (we probably do have the time, now that I think about it) we could research this much further and maybe find some definitive answers to things, but I believe what Patti found is good enough.

Apparently Florence and Felix were not married - they were brother and sister.  Felix died of kidney disease, and Florence died in what must have been a horrific automobile accident, so their deaths were completely unrelated, just one of those terrible random tragedies that sometimes strike families. 

There are a couple of discrepancies - the headstone list's Felix's birthday as Sept 5, 1907, while other documents lists his birthday as Sept 5, 1908.  Also, the first initial on the tombstone (M. Felix Leger), does not agree with a census entry which lists his name as Wilburn Felix Leger.

So...... a couple of possibilities. 

First, back then all these documents, census entries, birth & death certificates etc, were hand written.  And as I recently found when one of my older relatives died, there is sometimes disagreement among relatives on the actual date of birth, so a year's discrepancy on a headstone is easily explained.  But the first initial I wonder about.  Is it possible for someone to mistake a "W" for an "M"?  Is is possible for someone to write down Wilburn in a census, when perhaps his name was really Milburn?  Sure it is.  Or could someone had made a mistake when carving the name into the marker?  Maybe "W. Felix Leger" was written, but whoever was doing the work read the "W" as an "M".   Maybe the template was turned upside down.

The second possibility is all our assumptions are wrong.  Possible, but I don't think so.

Back in late 1940 & early 1941 this family went through a pretty rough time.

Cold Weather Dog Walking - Revised

I'm very, very tired of writing about the weather. But if it doesn't get warmer soon, and I don't think it's going to for 10-15 days or more, I'm just going to have to kick somebody. It won't be my dog, because she's just a dumb animal and doesn't know any better, and it won't be my wife because I have to live with her. And it probably won't be anybody else, because I don't want to get arrested. But the thought is there. I'll mentally kick a passerby somewhere and leave it at that.

So Pickles and I walked the South Avenue, Praley, Pineburr, Orchard route this morning, a little shorter than normal, because it was 17 degrees out. (That's about -8 Celsius). This is normal, maybe even balmy for places like Minnesota, Montana, New York, and the southern parts of Canada, but I'm pretty sure we should be up around 50 degrees (10 Celsius) this time of year.

The dog didn't seem to care. But I did. It is funny how acclimated a person becomes. I lived in Minneapolis for 2 1/2 years, and I got so I could tell the difference between 2 below & 2 above zero (-18 & -16 Celsius). If it was 2 above, it was ok to go for my little pre-work 2 mile trot. If it was 2 below, it wasn't, and I could tell just by walking out side. At 14 below (-25 Celsius), breathing was painful.

14 below is 31 degrees colder than what I was walking thru this morning. So by one reckoning, I shouldn't complain. But it's an expectation thing. This part of the country should never be this cold this long. It aint right.

Now, before you go blaming President Obama for the weather, keep in mind that in this part of North Carolina, Republicans and Democrats that might as well be Republicans reign supreme. Our US Congressional Representative, Patrick McHenry, is a good example (That's a great name, isn't it?). He has to be a couple of steps to the right of Glen Beck. You have to get up on the sidewalk to get to the right of Patrick McHenry. If he were out on the coast, you'd have to swim in the ocean to get to the right of Patrick McHenry, and I bet that would be cold. I have to blame someone for all this, so I blame our local, state, and federal representatives, since they keep getting elected and should have a grasp on local conditions. Obviously they've dropped the ball here, and let it get real cold for too long. And I'll mentally kick a random person later, maybe.

But the dog doesn't care. She's just plain goofy. I cut it short because it was painful, I'm sure she could have gone 5 more miles.

Cold Weather Dog Walking

It was a cold morning in Western North Carolina. Heavy frost, and below freezing. Any water left over from yesterday's rains were frozen. For the first time this year I pulled out a heavy coat to take old Pickles on her morning walk.

You have to understand though - there's cold, then there's North Carolina cold. North Carolina cold is not that bad, especially if the wind isn't blowing. Even though it was cold, I could feel the warmth from the sun, and that held the possibility that the afternoon would be much warmer. Well, clouds appear to be moving in this afternoon and it still feels cold. Whatever. You want cold, head up to North Dakota.

Pickles and I walked up to the cemetery this morning, and I'm pleased to report that valiant Valdese city workers (I assume) have removed a large and very dead possum from our walking route. This poor corpse hung around between the sidewalk and Praley Ave for a couple of weeks. I figured no one would get around to moving it until spring, because it was not on the road, was not directly in front of someone's yard, and no one was going to have to mow that strip of grass for the next few months. Well, I'm happy to report that I was wrong. The last thing I needed was for Pickles to start playing with a dead possum, so I'd take exceptional efforts to avoid it whenever we walked up that way. Dogs seem facinated with dead animals.

I noticed this morning that the mountains to the west of us are blanketed with snow. They are 3,000 to 4,000 feet in elevation. The south mountains - which are just outside our kitchen window, have no snow on them, but they aren't as high. We also don't have any snow, it looks like it didn't quite make it over the mountains.

Pickles liked her walk this morning. No complaints, not even about the cold. I on the other hand, was wishing I had some gloves & something to cover my ears. But it wasn't that bad.

Wet Weather Dog Walking

It started raining early this morning, perhaps 4 AM or so, and did not stop until 6 or 7 this evening. I've never let a little rain get in the way of walking the dog, so I figured today should not be any different.  So about 8:30 this morning, I grabbed my trusty rain jacket, with hood, leashed up old Pickles (aka Gnarls Barkley), and we set out.   

It didn't seem too bad at first, but I keep forgetting about the trees.  Even though the leaves are finally gone, we have a bunch of very large trees around the house, and the branches alone can effect my perception of how hard its raining, or how cool or warm it is, depending on if it's cold or hot.  Or raining.

So anyway we headed out to South Avenue and walked toward Praley.   By the time we got to Praley, maybe 1/4th of a mile away, I began to have 2nd thoughts.   Pickles was soaked and would stop to shake every few steps then look at me like I was an idiot.  My jacket was keeping me dry - except everywhere it didn't reach, which was most places.   In those places I was soaked.

We turned left on Praley  & walked toward Pineburr.  Praley is a major street in this little town, so we were upon occasion passed by a vehicle.  I ignored the looks of disbelief of many of the drivers, and when an 18 wheeler came rolling down the hill we had to stop and look.  Pickles insists on stopping and looking at anything big or loud.   18 wheelers fit her definition of big and loud.

The more we walked, the harder it rained, so Pickles and I took a vote and decided to cut the walk a little short today.  We turned on Pineburr, went up Colonial, took a little short cut on Fox over to Orchard & back to South Avenue. 

Here's one thing I noticed.  I know where all the barking dogs live, but today not one of them came out to bark at us.  Not Lucky Bear, not Arnold Ziffel, and especially not that pack of dogs that live in back of a house on Fox.  

I reckon these are fair weather barkers.   I say, if you're going to take the trouble to bark at me when the sun is shining, you should also bark at me when its raining.   All I'm asking is consistency out of these mutts.  

Pickles had no complaints about getting back home.   She shook off, became a crazy dog for a minute or two then went to sleep.

Walking the Dog, a Comparison

As I took Pickles on a walk around the neighborhood this morning, I was noticing. I manage to keep her under control, but I have to keep a constant vigil about it. I basically shorten up the leash & make her walk with me & if she starts to head out on her own I give a tug to get her back. On these walks, which are business walks (no not that kind, unless it happens), she doesnt get to stop and smell the roses. She doesn't get to run ahead or lag behind. Its a constant effort though. If I were to let her have the length of the leash, she'd jerk me all over. As it is, she does pretty well. She's heeling, even though she doesn't know it. When we get back to our property, then I loosen up and she can smell things, explore a bit and relieve herself if needed.

Here's the comparison.

Many years ago I was in the Army, stationed in Augsburg, Germany. I don't know where Germans get their dogs, but they are, over all, extremely well behaved. I'm sure there are strays in Germany, but I don't remember seeing one. The one scene stays with me. I lived in Barracks on Sheridan Kaserne, and the quickest way to the PX was a walk through a German residential area. Once I found myself walking down one side of the street, and came upon a middle aged woman, walking her Boxer dog, and 3 boxer pups, without a leash. We were all on a residential street, and the dogs all stayed on the sidewalk. Some small children were playing across the road and they ran across to pet the puppies. I remember one saying "Er so klein ist", and I was proud of myself because I actually understood it. The dog stood there, and the pups were pups. Looking back on it, I'm sure the dog was training her pups to a certain degree, maybe as much as the woman was. The dog was extremely well trained & well behaved, and the pups were well on their way.

This was not an isolated incident - I saw unbelievable numbers of well behaved dogs during my entire tour of duty there. And I still dont know how, as a nation, they do it. I traveled a bit while I was there, and one of the cultural difference I could see between countries like France & Germany, were the behavior of the dogs.

If I had Pickles in Germany, I suspect the Hundpolizei would be knocking at my door. In France, I don't think they'd care.