A happy visit

This past weekend, owing to celebrations at the seminary, Brother Christopher of New Skete was in our area. And during break time I easily convinced him to walk with me to our house and see Josie again. He last held her in his arms when we were picking her up from the monastery at the end of April. He's the main trainer at New Skete, and also the main author of their best-selling books that have been so instrumental in our own life with Josie.

He saw our Josie-lifestyle in all its chaos, and affirmed it all. He also gave us invaluable advice on a couple of outstanding matters of obedience and heeling that Patricia, especially, has been applying with great results. She'd already been heeling quite well on our morning walks, but walking ever so slightly too far ahead. Not pulling, but ahead of where she should be. If you're dying to know his advice, write in with a comment to this entry!

We'll be seeing Br. C. again in early October, when he will spend the night with us owing to some local commitments. Looking forward, even as we plan our next visit to New Skete.

Do invisible fences make invisible neighbors?

The big new thing in our household: fences.

A week or two ago Elizabeth and I completed the construction of an extra section of fencing for our yard, to give Josie a better sense of delineation. This was done as a reinforcement for the Invisible Fence we had installed in May, and have been waiting until now to train her to. This constitutes a wire that traces the perimeter of our garden, and works with a collar that sets off (first) and audible signal and (second) an electric shock when she gets close enough.

We figured we'd never have fencing high enough to prevent a 90-pound shepherd from jumping over (or for that matter, even a dog). So the i-fence was the way to go. And training so far, after a week, has been going very well. We're at the stage now where we test her by throwing balls for her to chase, or having people come for her to run and greet -- and she's pretty well figured out not to approach the fence area. This has been allowing us a lot more free play in the garden, with no leashes attached.

The kids' play with her has risen astronomically, both inside and out. Inside, they've taken to tying her by leash to a rolling office chair, and getting them to pull them around, to everyone's delight. Outside, it's ball stuff. Great fun. And we'd just begun to lament that we hadn't had a more puppy-like experience with the kids, Josie being so big and everything. Well all that looks fine now. They romp.

Love

Is it crazy to use the word "love" about one's dog? I held Josie's head in my hands and looked at her, and actually told her I loved her -- that sounds really ridiculous to me. I think it's George Bernard Shaw who said something like "Animals receive more love from humans than they can possibly manage." Maybe so but, well, there it is, and I've confessed it now, to her and to the blogosphere.

In conversations with Br. Christopher the other day (see today's post about him) we talked about how although animals are certainly ensouled beings, we should not humanize them. To use theological language, theirs is not a "noetic" or reasoning soul. But it is a soul nonetheless, with feelings, instincts, passions (fear, anger, joy, contentment, playfulness), and no less than Basil the Great affirms this in his homilies on the Hexaemeron. So as far as love is concerned, it's by no means one that is shared between equals. But anyway (to use non-theological language), Josie's a totally sweet thing.

Josie is now around seven months old. Phases continue -- dependent partly on stomach health and other physical factors, and partly on just plain phases -- she can be exasperating or a delight, and the balance has decisively been on the latter.

She's still a pup: she's very excitable, and also she tires out pretty easily especially after new stimulus. Last week I took her to my office at seminary for the first time. She met lots of new folks, she sat there (fairly) patiently while I met with a student for nearly an hour, and walked back home with me. And crashed out under my desk for several hours from exhaustion.

Under my desk has become one of her safe havens. It always takes her a while to get her chewing ya-ya's out -- where she'll seek out and gnaw anything but the sanctioned bone I place under my desk -- and then she'll settle down there in one or another state of alertness or crashedness, periodically releasing an audible, contented yawn.