This is the fourth goodbye I’ve had to say since March of 2008.  It’s sad.  First, Charlie, my best friend from my morning jog.  And then Ishka, Jamie’s best pal, whom I only got to know a little.  And then Okie-Dokie, the wonderfull black cat who taught me more than I wanted to know about cats.  And, now, Samantha, Jamie’s best friend from Puppy Kindergarten.

Samantha was a lovely black lab.  She and Jamie got along really great right from the start.  I wasn’t there to know this; Jamie tells me from her special swimming and frisbee-retrieving place in doggie heaven.  Jamie liked Samantha a lot.  So did Barbara and Fred.  Actually, it was Samantha’s skill as a frisbee dog that prompted Fred to work so much, with me, on catching our “Chuckit” flying squirrel toy.

Samantha served as a therapy dog, visiting nursing homes in the San Fernando Valley, so she spent a lot of time cheering people up.  Goodbye, Samantha; Jamie and I will miss you.

Fred’s favorite web site for people who have lost their pets is the collection of poems at petloss.com.  Clink on this to see it.

His favorite, by Rudyard Kipling, is “Dinah Goes to Heaven.”

She did not know that she was dead
But, when the pang was o’er,
Sat down to wait her Master’s tread
Upon the Golden Floor,

With ears full-cock and anxious eyes,
Impatiently resigned;
But ignorant that Paradise
Did not admit her kind.

There was one step along the Stair
That led to Heaven’s Gate;
And, till she heard it, her affair
Was — she explained — to wait.

And she explained with flattened ear,
Bared lip and milky tooth–
Storming against Ithuriel’s Spear
That only proved her truth!

Sudden — far down the Bridge of Ghosts
That anxious spirits clomb–
She caught that step in all the hosts,
And knew that he had come.

She left them wondering what to do,
But not a doubt had she.
Swifter than her own squeal she flew
Across the Glassy Sea;

Flushing the Cherubs everywhere,
And skidding as she ran,
She refuged under Peter’s Chair
And waited for her man.

There spoke a Spirit out of the press,
‘Said: — “Have you any here
That saved a fool from drunkenness,
And a coward from his fear?

“That turned a soul from dark to day
When other help was vain;
That snatched it from Wanhope and made
A cur a man again?”

“Enter and look,” said Peter then,
And set the Gate ajar.
“If I know aught of women and men
I trow she is not far.”

“Neither by virtue, speech nor art
Nor hope of grace to win;
But godless innocence of heart
That never heard of sin:

“Neither by beauty nor belief
Nor white example shown.
Something a wanton — more a thief –
But — most of all — mine own.”

“Enter and look,” said Peter then,
“And send you well to speed;
But, for all that I know of women and men
Your riddle is hard to read.”

Then flew Dinah from under the Chair,
Into his arms she flew –
And licked his face from chin to hair
And Peter passed them through!

I just lost my best animal friend — Okie-Dokie, the black cat.  She was just fine a few days ago, but then she had some serious kidney problems, and within a few days she was gone.  Poor Okie-Dokie.  She was a good pal to me — after teaching me some dog-cat manners.  I’ll miss her a lot.  I guess, though, that her 17 years were pretty good cat years.

Okie-Dokie adopted Fred and Barbara about 10 years ago.  She just showed up one day, in the front yard, hunting for gophers, a few of which had migrated across the street from the golf course.  She hunted gophers for a few days, and then she started to check out the front doorstep.  Eventually, Fred and Barbara put out some cat food, which the strange black cat gobbled down.  Next, she started to explore the inside of her house.  All in all, it took Okie-Dokie about two weeks to decide to adopt Fred and Barbara.

A few years earlier, Fred and Barbara had dinner at a restaurant in Cabo San Luca, Mexico, where their waiter was just always saying “Okie-Dokie.”  “Okie-Dokie, I’ll bring you another Pacifico.”  “Okie-Dokie, your enchiladas are coming right up!”  So they decided that they would name their next cat “Okie-Dokie.”

A few years later, Fred and Barbara learned the true story about Okie-Dokie.  Okie-Dokie, who was originally named Maxine, was a ferel cat that had been adopted by a  young couple that lived a few blocks away from Fred and Barbara.  When the couple had their second baby, Okie-Dokie decided she wasn’t getting enough attention, so she started scouting for a new place to live.  It turns out that some of the couple’s neighbors saw this happening, but Fred and Barbara didn’t learn about it for several years.

When Okie-Dokie adopted Fred and Barbara, Jamie (my predecessor Golden Retriever) was about two years old (which is what I am now!).  Here’s a photograph from “My Doggie Says… Messages from Jamie,” that shows Okie-Dokie and Jamie having their daily afternoon nap in the hallway.

When I arrived at Fred and Barbara’s house almost two years ago, Okie-Dokie was about 15 years old.  At first, Okie and I didn’t get along very well.  I was a fluffy little puppy, and I kept thinking Okie-Dokie would want to play with me.  But everytime I jumped at her, she swatted my nose.  I finally learned that Okie-Dokie was in charge and that we could play on her terms, not mine.  We didn’t actually “play” a lot, but we got to be very good friends.  We enjoyed sniffing noses.  Sometimes, Okie-Dokie would lick my face, or my coat.  Sometimes I would lick Okie-Dokie’s fur.  We never shared a nap in the hallway, like Jamie and Okie-Dokie, but recently we napped a lot on the futon in Fred’s office.  Sometimes, I used Okie-Dokie like a pillow.  She seemed to like that.

So that makes three really good pals I’ve lost in my two, young years.  Charlie, my Golden Retriever friend that I used to see on my morning jog.  And then Ishka, Karen’s (Fred and Barbara’s daughter) Golden Retriever.  And now Okie-Dokie.  Okie-Dokie is the toughest to deal with, because I spent time with her every day.  I’ve been making up for the loss of Okie-Dokie by spending lots more time with “Stinky,” my one-half stuffed puppy security object.  I don’t know what I’d do without “Stinky.”

Fred says losing a pet is really hard for people, too.  They love their pets very much, and it’s hard for them to understand that dogs and cats just don’t live as long as people usually do.  Here’s a collection of poems that have given Fred and Barbara lots of comfort when they’ve lost pets.

Goodbye, Okie-Dokie.  You were a great cat and a great pal, and I’ll always love you.

Callie

Janene Zakrajsek is a co-founder of Pussy & Pooch Penthouse and Pawbar, a unique gathering place for dogs and their people — in the middle of downtown Los Angeles. Janene takes the listener on a tour of this unusual shop and she discusses the shop’s different dog and human “social programs.”

The “My Doggie Says…” show helps listeners gain a deeper appreciation for “Man’s Best Friend.” The show is broadcast live from 8:00 to 9:00 p.m. on Wednesday nights, on KFNX 1100, Phoenix. It is streamed live on www.1100kfnx.com. Host Fred Haney interviews experts on all aspects of dogs and dog ownership. The show is also available as a podcast on iTunes. Go to the iTunes store, click on “Podcast,” and search for “My Doggie Says…”

Here’s a fun people & pet social networking site you should check out. Lots of cute photos of pets, and they have a photo contest running right now.

Here’s the picture of Callie and Okie-Dokie I submitted for this week’s contest.

While you’re visiting the site, be sure to vote for this photo to win the contest!

You know, I don’t usually have to make a lot of decisions. Barbara and Fred decide a lot of stuff for me. Like when I get to eat, when we go jogging, what time we go to bed, and stuff like that.

Sometimes, I do decide to take a nap. And sometimes it’s hard to figure out which toy to play with, because I do have a lot of toys.

So yesterday I’m walking down the hallway and Okie-Dokie the black cat goes walking by. That cat can be really arrogant. It walks with a swagger, and I swear it’s always telling me, “ha, ha, I never have to be in a crate!” Or “cats are better than dogs.”

Actually, Okie-Dokie and I have become pretty good friends. We like to rub noses, and sometimes I lick Okie-Dokie’s head. She seems to like that. But I really like to pester her sometimes, so it only took me a millisecond to decide to run down the hallway and pounce on Okie-Dokie — just to see how loud she would “hiss!”

But just as I started after Okie-Dokie, Barbara showed up at the other end of the hall in her jogging clothes and wearing her jogging fanny-pack. Uh-oh! Slam on the brakes! Given a choice between annoying Okie-Dokie and going jogging, I’ll always go for the jog. It’s much better exercise than pouncing on cats. Besides, I can go cat-pouncing just about any time I want.

So I stopped myself in mid-pounce and ran over to Barbara so she could put my leash on.

It wasn’t a real hard decision to make, because I really like to go jogging, but it made me realize that my life is pretty simple most of the time. Eat, sleep, pounce on cats, pee, pooh, and eat some more.

But you know what I really look forward to? The times when Fred and Barbara play with me and make me feel part of the family. Lots of times, I start the play by presenting them with one of my favorite toys. Then we play a game of “let’s both hold this for a while.” It’s my favorite game, next to playing soccer with Fred.

I’m getting to spend lots more time out of my crate, so I do have to make more decisions than before. But mostly it’s deciding NOT to eat the rugs. Things seem to work better that way.

Next time!

So much of dog training — and training people to train dogs — is about getting your dog to obey your commands. This is important. There are times when your dog’s safety depends on obeying a command.

Another theme in dog training is establishing yourself as the alpha pack animal. This helps make life unambiguous for the dog; it knows where it stands in the family order.

That said, I don’t think it’s necessary to train every spec of creativity, initiative, or assertiveness out of a dog. I like a dog that is pleasantly assertive. I don’t know how to train this into a dog, if it doesn’t already have it. But I do think it’s possible to train it out of a dog by being too alpha and too focused on obedience.

Callie’s showing some signs of assertiveness, and we’re glad to reinforce them, within limits. Actually, when she first came to our home, at age eight-weeks, she invited me to play soccer (by sitting behind a soccer ball), and I complied. My compliance surely encouraged her to keep inviting me to play soccer. Which I really like.

The other day, Callie was enjoying her freedom in my office, and I decided to let her walk, without her leash, out to pee. Se we headed for the side yard. But first Callie stopped, picked up her kong toy, and made eye contact, as if to say, “Is it OK if I bring this?” I like to honor her requests, but, knowing how easy it would be for the toy to get lost in the ivy, I decided it was a bad idea.

So off we went to the side yard without the kong toy. But as soon as I opened the door, Callie exploded into a barking, running and slamming-into-the-wall frenzy. Our neighbor’s cat had been basking in the sun atop the wall, and Callie decided to chase her away. Which is fine with me. 

Then, as we walked back to my office, Callie stopped at the sliding glass door to the back yard. The door was open just enough for Callie to get her nose through the opening, but not enough for her to walk through. She stopped and looked right at me. The message was very clear. “Could we please play soccer for a few minutes?” I managed to catch her in action in this photo:

I couldn’t say “no,” so we played soccer for a while. After all, she made such a polite request.

Then, I decided to let Callie join me for a little practice in my golf net. Jamie used to do this all the time.  Here’s a photo of Jamie from “My Doggie Says… Messages from Jamie:  How a dog named Jamie ‘talks’ to her people.”

But Jamie was not a ball dog, and Callie definitely is a ball dog. So the minute Callie saw the golf balls, she collected two of them in her mouth. She really wanted to chew the golf balls, but I worry about the materials and the possibility that she could swallow one of the balls. Not good. In the end, I had to decide that golf practice wasn’t going to work for Callie, at least not until she matures a little more.

I’m really glad that Callie is asserting herself. She does it in a nice way, but she makes her wishes known. It’s fun to reinforce her assertiveness, when it’s safe and when it doesn’t get out of control.

It seems to be working to let Callie be assertive at times. We still let her know who’s boss, and we continue to insist on obedience. Somehow, I think she understands.

Hi! My name is Callie. I’m a seven-month-old Golden Retriever. Usually Fred is writing about me, but he’s traveling for a few days and he asked me to share some doggie secrets with you. So, off the record, I thought I’d tell you ten things that your dog probably won’t tell you. Here we go!

1. I chewed a hole in the leather sofa today.

2. That expensive dog food you’re buying for me tastes great, but the cheap stuff would be healthier for me.

3. I can tell you like the cat better than you like me.

4. The pet-sitter lets me pee on your backyard grass.

5. The $.25 puppy treats you get me are way better than the $1.50 ones.

6. You don’t really have to buy me Christmas presents.

7. I really feel stupid wearing that pair of doggles (doggie-goggles) you bought me.

8. When I snuggle with you on your bed, I’m pretending that you’re a really sexy black lab.

9. You just think you’re the alpha animal around here. Who’s giving whom everything they need?

10. There’s a little surprise for you in the middle of the kitchen floor.

This was fun. I hope Fred lets me do it again sometime!

Bye,

Callie

In an earlier post, I referenced this article about Oscar the cat who has predicted the time of death of twenty five nursing home patients in Providence, RI.

Now we have an article, from thecancerblog.com, about a Labrador Retriever who appears to have sniffed out a malignant lump in its owner’s breast. Studies have shown that dogs can be trained to sniff the differences in urine samples and breath samples.

I think we have a lot to learn about how intelligent our pets are. Or, maybe “intelligent” is the wrong word. Scientists are always testing dogs for “intelligence,” and they usually conclude that they aren’t all that “intelligent.” But just because a dog can’t solve a Rubick’s Cube doesn’t mean it isn’t intelligent. I think scientists may be asking the wrong question.

How else might we measure the “intelligence” of dogs? We could try to understand how perceptive they are? We know that some of their senses, such as hearing and smell, are much more powerful than those of humans. Are they as good, or better than humans, at “putting two and two together?” How well are they able to express emotions to other dogs? How well are they able to tune into the emotions of humans? As well as humans do? Better than humans do?

There are lots of stories about dogs and cats giving advanced warning of earthquakes. Here’s an interesting article on that subject. Scientists and seismologists don’t think the evidence is conclusive. But the Chinese city of Haicheng was evacuated in 1975, because of the strange behavior of animals. An earthquake ensued, and officials estimated that 150,000 lives were saved.

Why did Callie lick my wound last Wednesday? Was it because the blood tasted salty and good? Or was it because she wanted to make it better? Someone probably knows the scientific answer to this question, but to me it’s part of this bigger puzzle. I think we have a lot to learn about dogs and the different “levels” at which their senses and intelligence operate.

While we’re waiting for scientists to present us with all the answers, it sure is fun to observe our pets and try to figure out what’s going on inside those busy little dog and puppy minds!

MDS: Yesterday, Barley, you told us about “fetching” the Robinson’s pet parrot. Any other pet stories?

Barley: I’m used to being around cats; my care person has several, and they’re pretty cool. But the Robinsons have this really grumpy black cat that weighs about twenty pounds. Every time I try to say “hello” or play with it, it swats me in the nose with its claws. Plus, it catches a rat or a mouse once in a while and leaves body parts lying on the rug, which I think is just plain rude.

MDS: What’s the best thing about being a rent-a-dog?

Barley: Well, I really do like to meet new people and dogs. This way, I have my care person and three other owners. And they all take me for walks sometimes, so I guess I get to meet four times as many people and dogs as most dogs.

MDS: What has been the worst thing about being a rent-a-dog?

Barley: There’s this incredibly beautiful, sexy French Poodle who lives next door to Mr. Martin. I can talk to her through the chain link fence; we even sniff and lick each other’s noses sometimes. I absolutely fell in love with her. We talked about making puppies, which I’m not sure I’m able to do any more. But we talked about it. So my heart just aches when Thursday morning comes and the van comes to take me back to my care person.

MDS: How does being a rent-a-dog work with your toys.

Barley: Oh, man. You just had to bring that up. Lots of people don’t realize this, but many dogs have a favorite toy that works like a child’s “security blanket.” It like a pacifier. It’s a toy that a dog falls in love with. In my case, my favorite toy is a soft stuffed thing that looks like a big bone. It’s something Mrs. Thompson bought at a pet store. I really love that bone. I keep it close to me all day every Friday, and it helps me relax in the evening. By the time I go to bed, I’m totally relaxed and I just sleep like a log. It’s the best sleep I ever get. But it’s only on Friday nights. I really miss that bone the rest of the week.

MDS: Do you ever play ball with your renters?

Barley: I really like to play with tennis balls, because they feel soft in my mouth. Mrs. Robinson always has a few tennis balls around, and she tries to play catch with me, which is fun. But she can’t throw worth a damn. Mr. Martin and Mrs. Thompson wouldn’t know a ball if it hit them between the eyes.

MDS: What are some other good things about being a rent-a-dog?

Barley: Well, I know I’m making all my renters happy. I do feel good about that. It doesn’t work for them to have a full-time dog, so I’m glad I can cheer them up a little. It’s something I feel good about.

MDS: How would you feel about being adopted by one of your renters?

Barley: I’d feel good if it was Mr. Martin. I love the three-mile walks and the premium beef. I’d hate to be cooped up in Mrs. Thompson’s apartment. And it’s fun to sleep with the Robinsons, but that’s really the only good thing that happens to me on Sundays.

MDS: Barley, it’s been great to talk with you. You can have the final word.

Barley: Well, being a rent-a-dog isn’t all it’s cracked up to be – at least for the dog. But all things considered, I’d rather be a rent-a-dog than out there working trash cans for food like I was before they rescued me. But it would be really nice to have just one home with someone who loves me and understands what it means to be the alpha animal.

Okie-Dokie, a really neat black cat, adopted us about eight years ago. Okie-Dokie is neat because she’s a very worldly indoor/outdoor cat. She has a bit of a sordid history, starting life as a ferrel cat. She was adopted and neutered by a family in our neighborhood, who later had a baby. When their second baby arrived, Okie-Dokie (whose name, we discovered later, was Maxine) decided she wasn’t getting enough attention, so she started hunting gophers in our yard. After a few weeks of feeling her way around, she decided to move into our house, and she’s been here ever since. She’s a good indoor cat, but she is also savvy about cars on the street, and she’s a good mouser.

When Okie-Dokie was checking us out, we did not know who she was, or any of her history. We learned it later, when someone from the neighborhood saw Okie-Dokie and said, “That’s Maxine.” So then we got the whole story, and Maxine’s parents are glad for her to have a happy home.

Okie-Dokie has a nice sheepskin bed on one corner of the sofa in our den. She doesn’t always sleep there, but she does sometimes and it’s a great place to hang out.

Last night, Barbara washed Callie’s sheepskin puppy bed and put in in the hallway so she would remember to carry it in to Callie’s crate. (Callie is a five-month-old Golden Retriever puppy, still crate training.) We turned our backs for just a minute to get dinner ready, and when we walked into the den, Callie had carried her puppy bed into the den and put it on top of Okie-Dokie’s bed on the sofa!

Where do puppies get ideas like this?

I don’t think the wolf pack taught them where to put their puppy beds, did it? Is this a way of competing with Okie-Dokie for the Alpha position in our family? Maybe she just thought the sofa was the place for sheepskin beds.

Our pets’ behavior often mystifies me. I try to understand, but there are times when I get frustrated and wish I could look inside their minds. Callie seems to have had some kind of reason for putting her bed on top of Okie-Dokie’s. We thought it was incredibly cute, but we also wondered what she was thinking.

Callie has been confronting Okie-Dokie a little lately. When she first arrived at our home, she was an eight-week old puppy weighing seven pounds. But now she’s five months old, and she weighs about thirty-five pounds. At first, Okie-Dokie showed Callie who was boss with a few pokes at Callie’s nose. And Callie became very submissive. But now much larger than Okie-Dokie, Callie seems to be saying either “you can’t beat me up any more” or “let’s have some rough play.”

So maybe Callie put her bed on top of Okie-Dokie’s to prove her superiority. Or maybe she just did it.

It’s a mystery.