Leaving the lead...

It's the moment when my body decides to detonate almost every counter productive reaction that's within it's power.  It starts with my face burning and my eyes watering.  Then, there's the shaking hands, so unsteady that I can't unclip the fastening.  Then, there's my heart, beating so fast that I think I'm going to faint.  Perhaps it's good that these things happen.  I suppose that it means I care about what I'm about to do.

To unclick or not to unclick that is the question...

Sometimes, I lean down to unclick the lead and then stand up again, thinking better of the situation.  Sometimes I unclick it and then think better of the idea and clip it back on 5 seconds later.  Sometimes, if I'm feeling brave the whole head collar comes off but, more often, the headcollar stays on.  I'm not sure how that's supposed to stop him running after things but it gives me, at the very least, some sense of control.

'It's not fair - you take me off then you make me sit!'

What's my worst fear?  Oddly, it's that he runs over to and bothers another dog and owner.  Caesar has a very lumbersome and clumsy approach to everything and would fly at other people and dogs as if he were a miniature poodle - I don't think he always realises that he weighs almost twenty-five kilograms.  This worry is slightly ironic given that the same often happens to me when I have him on the lead.  I haven't got enough fingers to count the amount of times I've ended up wrapped up with Caesar screaming because someone else has let their dog bother us.  Or had to drag him backwards down a path to get away from the dog that is trying to sniff him.

Has anxiety made me too protective and controlling?  Or am I simply doing my duty as a responsible owner?  Perhaps I'll never know where the line lies.

Woohooooo!!!

My space!

Have you got somewhere special that you like to go when everything is going wrong or when everything is going right?  A place where you can sit and cry or scream.  A place that you can share with the ones you love and hide from the ones you don't  A place that means something to you?

I did.  It was a little car park that overlooked the sea.  I spent many a happy teenage afternoon and evening there when life had got too much or when it was peaking at just enough. When luck had afforded me a car and an ounce of freedom with which I knew not what to do.  I later found that this wonderful location was a well-known dogging site (and not of the canine variety either).  So, I lost my special place and have never found a new one until recently.

A bit windy is it Dumbo?

Walks are stressful.  There's no point denying it.  I would love to say "let's have a relaxing walk with Caesar."  but thus far, those words have never passed my lips.  The reason for this is because nothing about Caesar is relaxing.  He runs too fast and too far.  He tugs and pulls and screeches and screams.  He picks things of unknown origin from the ground and eats them.  And, at most, walks are...interesting.

Looks like the lead is about to fly away!

When I was knee high to a grass-hopper, which wasn't too long ago (or perhaps it was depending if we're talking dog years or human ones), my dad used to go fishing.  I remember some of our excursions.  They usually involved me dressing in a LOT of very warm clothes and then waiting for an hour in the cold, crying because it was too cold and asking to go home.  Then, usually, sitting in the car with a packet of sweets.  Dad didn't take me fishing often - I wonder why?  Anyhow, back in the day of sea fishing, sweets, waders and flat fish, dad used to take me to somewhere he called 'the gare'.  It was silent and sandy and untarnished by tourists, buckets, spades and donkeys.  I was determined to take Caesar there one day.  Unfortunately, I couldn't find how to get to it, aside for walking down the beach for hours.

Poor old Caesar - once he has freedom,
he doesn't know what to do except for come back!
Video link for phone users:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4vccJ3UZmI&feature=youtu.be

Luckily for me, when we met Sharon (one of Caesar's rescuers) on Saturday, she showed us the way.  It was just the way I remembered it...deserted!

Nothing for miles - my sort of place!

Bumbling on the beach

Although Caesar's tag claims that he belongs entirely to me; this is not strictly true.  I own only 99% of Caesar; the other 1% belongs to someone whom, until recently, I hardly knew.  I'll save the details for the book and simply say that the first person at the rescue centre to come across Caesar was a tall bubbly blonde called Sharon.  Sharon owns 1% of Caesar because she helped to rescue him and assure him a place in the centre.  Through the whole adoption process, I saw Sharon on a number of occasions.  However, as Caesar dominates any social situation that he is part of, we didn't get much chance to speak.  I knew that Sharon liked Caesar very much as she would make a fuss of him when we brought him back to the rescue centre.

Sharon and Caesar.

At the time, Caesar had a tiny fan club of people who would get excited to see him back.  It warmed my heart to know that so many people loved him and made the 6 months that he had spent in kennels more than bearable.

It was at the time of our last major Caesar success that Sharon got in touch to ask if I would like to walk Caesar with her two dogs; Bumble and Milly.  I jumped at the chance for Caesar to continue pushing himself and making new friends.  As the walk approached though, and Caesar had less and less off-lead experiences, I began to doubt whether we'd be able to do it.  Sharon assured me that her dogs were fairly bomb proof and were used to dogs in the kennels.  

Sharon is as sensible and careful as I like to think that I am and she too has a 'other dog radar' wired up to her brain.  After a few hours of walking, the pair of us scowered the beach for fellow dog walkers as Bumble and Milly played happily with Caesar on his long lead.  Well, I say happily, on occassion, Caesar did seem to manage to freak Bumble out by barking at him but at large the three charged around happily, each on their own doggy plant.  On finding there were no people for the next stretch of beach we unclipped Caesar's lead and off he went!  Although he made a LOT of noise again and was clearly full of energy, he ran skipped and played and did come back almost every time he was told to.  Two more friends for Caesar and a giant leap to Caesar kind!

Caesar with Sharon, Bumble and Milly - Don't jump off again Caesar!!

Caesar met his new friends on his lead but
later had a run around without it.  Well done C boy! 

Walking with an Anxious Dog

For us, walking is always a major event that requires planning and equipment.  The first stage of planning is to identify a good walking location; if the weather is bad, then the beach is good, if the weather is good then the beach is the worst place to go.  Among his other issues, Caesar likes to scream and run towards other dogs.  It's highly embarrassing, particularly when people seem to see this as a threat and either freeze or move quickly in another direction.  Dogs, on the other hand, seem to see this as an invitation and many come over and investigate the strange noise thus making Caesar cry even louder.  This odd reaction has led me to believe that Caesar is not any threat to them and therefore the noises are either excitement or untamed nervousness.  In short, when we go for a walk, Caesar needs to remain on the lead and on his head collar at all times.  I feel sorry about this as his favourite thing is to have a good run and his recall is excellent so I would never have to worry about him running away.  My only concern would be what he did before he came back!

When we walk, I use an 8m extendable lead to keep control of Caesar and I'm well my way to becoming a pro at the 'click and yank' method, which is helpful for reeling him in if another dog gets to close.  As I explained before, Caesar has both an electric blue collar, an electric blue head collar an electric blue extension lead.  Why then do people feel that it's acceptable to allow their dogs to run up to him despite the combination of warning signs provided by me and the fact that he is screaming?

Yesterday, on the beach, I came across two women and a very energetic Labrador.  The Labrador was bouncing around the beach reasonably far from them as they chatted and wandered along.  Gemma was off her lead and, as a rule, is very good with other dogs but as she has been known to be defensive if they approach her, I quickly snapped her lead back onto her harness.  It took two seconds but it was a good job that I did!  The Labrador bounded up and put its young face uncomfortable close Gemmas.  She barked a warning at it but it paid no attention.  By this time, Caesar was inconsolable and was spinning in circles, wrapping me up in his lead as he did.  This odd behaviour interested the Labrador and he instantly moved his focus onto Caesar.  For a while, he followed us along the beach to the tune of Caesar's barking, howling and screaming without a word from his owner to bring him back. Sometimes I wished that I was more outspoken and could just march up to the couple and explain that every time something like this happens, it has a negative impact on Caesar, who was beginning to manage to ignore dogs who were running close by.  I wanted to shout at them all of the things we've been through to try to get him to accept other dogs.  How, unbelievably, we'd just sat in a cafe with a dog at the next table and he hadn't screeched or tried to get to it.  And how this major improvement may just have been undone by the fact that she was too busy talking to her friend to do anything about her out of control dog.  Of course, I didn't say anything.  

I'd learnt a few weeks after adopting Caesar, how ignorant people can be to dogs with his disposition.  As I had stepped down onto the beach one spring morning, I was relieved to see there was only a few people out walking their dogs but, as the tide was out, they were a safe distance away.  The nearest person was by the sea with two Golden Retrievers that were chasing each other back and forth.  Despite their distance, Caesar noticed them immediately and began to screech.  The next moment, the two Golden Retrievers were sprinting up the beach towards us, their owner was a dot in the distance.  My dad grabbed Caesar who was now struggling and writhing on the end of his lead and called to the man to 'bring his dogs under control please.'  I couldn't believe it when moments later the man began marching up the beach towards us, he was yelling something at me that I couldn't make out.  The dogs were either side of Caesar and were sniffing around at him.  Caesar was howling so loudly that it was impossible to hear the subject of the stranger's shouting.  As he moved closer, I suddenly realised the horrifying truth behind his yells "dog's like THAT shouldn't be in a public place like THIS!" he yelled at point blank range.  "You're dog is out of control!  Get it off the beach!"  I felt a lump start to form in my throat as I took Caesar's lead and marched him back across the sand.  I had garbled something about rescue dogs and unfair comments but the stranger replied with equally painful comments about Caesar's breed and nature.  

The truth is, many dogs are not bomb proof and dogs like these Labradors may well end up being injured by a dog who is on lead and, as much as possible, under control.  My heart truly goes to other owners who struggle with an anxious dog as, on this day, I learnt how cruel and arrogant people can be.  Luckily, as I previously stated, Caesar does not appear to be aggressive towards other dogs and I've never seen him attempt to hurt one.  However, there are plenty of dogs that, given a stressful situation such as this, would.  It was months before I braved the beach again.

A fantastic website for dogs with similar problems to Caesar is www.yellowdog.co.uk and, if the screaming alone does not do it, indicates to other dogs that your pooch needs space.  Caesar and I are awaiting our first yellow dog jacket.  It makes me sad as his behaviour around people is impeccable and the coat may mean that he loses the opportunity for a fuss but I have concluded that it may well be worth it.

Does your dog have any phobias?  Do you know a dog that does?  Have you ever heard of or used Yellow Dog?  I'd love to hear your comments.

Major achievement: the caravan is still in tact!

When I see a static caravan park that states 'dogs welcome' on their website, I think of two things; dog hairs, and smelly furniture.  To sum up; second rate accommodation.  Although, for some, this may be a major issue (one traveler commented that there were 'dog hairs in the bottom of the shower) for me it's almost a relief.  I'm not saying that I want to holiday in a place that stinks of dogs and has hairy mattresses, but at least if this were the case, you wouldn't have to worry about the damage your own dogs could do, particularly if one of them has separation anxiety which increases in severity when left in an unusual place.

You can imagine my panic, when I pulled up to the caravan park late on Wednesday night to find a caravan with cream carpets, perfect wooden furniture and a spotless cream sofa!   I was beside myself.  'There must be some mistake,' I thought, checking the name of the caravan on the plaque outside.  'This caravan is far too nice to accept dogs.'  Still pondering this, I looked up just in time to see Gemma squat and do a wee on the cream carpet!  We can't have been there more than a minute.  Thank goodness I thought to bring stain and odor remover in case an incident occurred!

Apart from having to wrestle Caesar off the furniture, where he liked to stand and eyeball the dog on the other side of the road, he seemed to settle very quickly and I could hardly believe it when I awoke at nine o'clock the following morning to the sound of silence!  Caesar's sleeping arrangements needed to be thought out carefully;  he couldn't stay in the kitchen as he is known for raiding bins and stealing food from cupboards, he couldn't stay in the spare bedroom because he would undoubtedly wait until we'd gone and then climb onto the bed and he certainly couldn't sleep in the bathroom...you can work that one out for yourself.  So, there was only one option; the hall.  It was pokey and dark and I was convinced that things weren't going to go well.  I had visions of waking up to claw marked doors and torn up carpet but from the moment we shut the door, he made no further sound.  In fact, at one point I began to worry that something dreadful had happened to him and had to check!

Caesar took to chewing his toy rather than the furniture!

Aside from the odd bit of sand and an unavoidable muddy paw print here and there, the caravan remained unscathed for the entire time of our visit.  Perhaps even more miraculously, despite the fact that Caesar quickly taught himself how to open the caravan doors, he decided to use his skills for good instead of evil and having granted himself access to the kitchen, decided to return to bed.  On the final day, as Damien prepared the caravan for our departure and I drove off to find a garage to fix the car, Caesar decided to get a breath of fresh air and skillfully opened the main door and disappeared.  Luckily, Damien found him almost immediately.  He had found a patch of grass close to the static van and was sunbathing on it, blissfully unaware of the panic that he had caused!

As I helped the dogs into the car for the final time, I couldn't help hosting a mini-celebration.  We had succeeded in our first caravan park holiday without Caesar doing any damage to the caravan whatsoever. Hip hip hooray!

Caesar, Gemma and I on our first ever holiday together!