Test your dog's IQ...

Firstly, I apologise to anyone who has found this post and does actually want to test their dog's IQ!  Anyone who is a regular reader will know that, for the vast majority of the time, I offer completely moral-free tales of a dog who quite possibly has an undiagnosed special need.  However, this was always the aim of the blog.  To let others who find themselves in a similarly difficult situation know that they're not alone.

Wonderful and absolutely bonkers all at the same time!

When you have a dog like Caesar, the worst thing to feel is alone.  Without the support of many people telling me 'this has happened to me too,' I may well have given up on Caesar within the first few weeks of ownership based on the fact that I just didn't understand what was going on!  However, I've come to not only accept this but embrace it due to the fact that many others have let me know that they have experienced similar and sometimes worse scenarios with their own dogs.

It's bad...but it could be worse.  Right?

Last night was the first time for a while that I'd felt alone with Caesar.  It wasn't because he had done anything naughty or damaged anything or eaten anything; these things I have learnt to live with.  For a change, it was my silly behaviour that had caused him damage.

To understand my behaviour at all you first need to know this fact; Caesar likes to jump.  In the short time that I've owned him, I've seen him jump fences, walls, stair gates, chairs....and more.  His current favourite hobby is jumping on and off the coffee table in the lounge.  And, when that bores him; on and off the window sill.

Caesar likes to jump on and off of the coffee table.

Close to where we live there is a beach and on the beach there are fences that section off parts.  Parts of the fences cover about 20m in width and range from 50cm to almost 2m in height.  When walking Caesar on the beach, I used to allow him to jump over them until someone kindly pointed out that I didn't know what was on the other side - thankfully before I found out the hard way that people don't necessarily look after our beaches and leave broken glass or shards of metal lying around.  I stopped this game as soon as I realised.

Caesar LOVES the beach.

I'd always dreamed of doing a sport such as agility or flyball with Caesar and would love to see him running a course.  I'm certain he'd be great as he has a good attention span when it comes to training.  There is only one problem; other dogs.  When I last attempted to get Caesar to do flyball he abandoned the run in favour of jumping a fence and chasing after a load of other dogs.  It's not that Caesar doesn't get enough exercise or variety because I'm constantly being told that he does.  However, like a proud mother, I can never escape the feeling that he could achieve more so I'm always looking for new things to try.  Failing that, I look for safe things to jump over on walks for a bit of fun.

Caesar sitting on a wall he'd jumped onto

Yesterday, on the beach I spotted a mild looking wall.  It was waist height on me and so, at a jog, I pulled Caesar, on his flexi-lead, toward it.  I let the lead loose and kept running as we approached.  Caesar seemed to be enjoying the run and began to make headway in front.  When he reached the wall, I gave the usual "up up up!" command....

Caesar can run really fast if once he gets going.

The next thing that happened was a blur.  Caesar hit the wall with a thud travelling at quite a speed.  He had seen the wall approaching yet somehow failed to jump and just ran face first into it and then collapsed into a pile.  My first, and very unmotherly reaction, was to laugh; fancy not noticing there was a wall there.  But then, having noticed the nasty looking mark on his cheek, I suddenly felt very concerned.  How would you explain to a vet that you ran your dog flat out into a wall?!

Ouch!  How much of a bad mum do I feel?!

In summary, to test your dogs IQ level; run them full pelt towards a wall and see if they jump.  If they do they have a higher IQ than if they don't.....simple!
And, since I'm now far too aware of legal mumbo jumbo that I shouldn't be bothered about, please do not do the above...it was a joke!

Our most hectic day

As I've said before.  I tend to be the type of person who doesn't have much to do for the majority of the time.  Then, a day like today happens where I have far too much to do for all of the time.  I'm not complaining because I love to keep myself busy but I think both Caesar and I will sleep very well tonight.

Caesar this morning - oblivious to
how busy his day was about to get!

For weeks I have known about today.  And, the excitement and anxiety have been building up about it too.  Most normal people with normal dogs would think this is ridiculous.  Most normal people turned up at a show this afternoon and were told 'you can try flyball over there,' and thought 'OK great, let's give it a go.' I am not normal.  I have known that this opportunity was coming for over a month.  And, I have been stressing about it for exactly the same amount of time.

"Please pretty please don't let me down!"

 I also know that tomorrow, my little sister, whose feet I would like to glue to the floor is going on another world adventure.  She is the Indiana Jones of the family - language teacher version.  And I guarantee that by the time she is 30, she will have travelled most of the world.  This time, she is only going to Spain.  I say 'only' because her last adventure took her to China for a year and so, by comparison, Spain seems a stones throw away.  We had been invited to lunch to celebrate with her.
"I'll tell Emma I can't make it," I told my mum on receiving the invite.
"You won't." came the answer.  "You've been waiting months to see him try flyball."

My sister and Caesar just before she

embarked on her adventure to China.

So, we arranged lunch and flyball attempt number 1 so that they didn't collide.  We would eat at 12:00 and meet Emma at the dog show at around 3:30 - 4:00.  I set up a little run in the garden at my parents while waiting for lunch.  The course included bricks supporting canes and part of the inside boarding of a transit van to grab the ball from.  The ball was the famous 'Bouncy' who, through treating and fussing, has become a firm favourite among his toys.

A small audience consisting of my mum, my dad and my sister gathered as we ran Caesar over the jump and to the ball.  Caesar got a round of applause as he returned, dropping Bouncy at my feet.  "Again!" my mum called so we did it again.  "One more time!"  Caesar darted too and fro with gusto.  I have to admit I felt fairly proud of him, although that didn't necessarily give me confidence about his ability to run in the presence of other dogs.

I waited nervously for a text message from Emma to come through to my phone.  My stomach churned.  Why do I put myself through these things?  Maybe I should just accept that Caesar is what he is and give up trying to make him something better.  I checked me phone for the hundredth time.  Nothing.

Finally, just before 4:00, my phone buzzed with a message 'Come now x'.  I jumped out of my seat and, with my heart in my throat, made my way to the car, Damien and Caesar by my side.  I arrived at the show to find the car park full.  Already I was starting to panic.  "This looks busy," I said more to myself than Damien.  He nodded in anxious agreement.

To make matters worse, the flyball track was at the other side of the field.  Past the bouncy castles and the stalls with dog treats.  Past the refreshment stand and the main show ring.  And all the way to a place filled with cars, cages and DOGS!  Caesar yowled and howled and barked and cried.  I looked pathetically down at him.  I worry that, when he does this, I look like I don't care, mainly because I just stand there.  The reason for this, however, is that I've quickly learnt that nothing gets him past this aside from walking away.  And, when you're trying to go in one direction (ie. towards the other dogs), walking away just doesn't cut the mustard. So, second only to this is plainly ignoring him.  Although this doesn't work either, at least it doesn't give him attention for doing what he's doing as pretty much every other method does and hasn't worked anyway.

I felt physically sick.  And this feeling was multiplied one hundred times when Emma told me to remove the lead.  "Can't he do it with the lead on?" I asked foolishly.  The answer was a simple head shake.  My hands were shaking so much that I could hardly unclip the lead.  I could feel the energy radiating from Caesar.  He was like a firework waiting to explode.

The first run went well.  He ran to the end, grabbed a treat and Emma caught him.  Then it was time to run back.  This was not as easy.  He ran back, clattered into my legs and kept running.  He did a circle of the constructed ring and then finally returned.  The second time went worse.  This time, he ran to one end, jumped one barrier and then did a kangaroo-hop like jump over the other barrier and began running around all of the cars and dogs.  It took what felt like ages to get him back, even though later others would comment on how good it was that he 'came straight back.'  Although many were shocked to see twenty-three kilograms of Staffie jump a fence and run towards them, I was relieved that he did nothing but run around like a maniac.  Although, when I did get him back, the last thing that I wanted to do was let him go again.

Come back!!! Where are you going?!

By the seventh or eighth time, he was exhausted but at least running in the right direction ninety percent of the time.  My face was burning with the pressure and I could see that I had a small audience.  "Caesar, Caesar, Caesar!" I called in my fakely enthusiastic high-pitched voice.  In actual fact, I wanted to jump over the fence and run off myself.

The hot sun and running around took its toll on Caesar fairly quickly and, although pretty nippy at first, he quickly slowed down after his initial burst of adrenaline.  I decided to quit while we were ahead and make towards the car park.  I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Emma but I knew she would understand.  I have a nervous disposition and a nerve-shakingly mischievous dog - I need to escape sometimes.