Luath night

our scottish friends Martha and Bailey make the excellent point that while humans celebrate Robert Burns, dogs should glory in the memory of his sheepdog Luath.

He was a gash an' faithfu' tyke,
As ever lap a sheugh or dyke.
His honest, sonsie, baws'nt face
Aye gat him friends in ilka place;
His breast was white, his touzie back
Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black;
His gawsie tail, wi' upward curl,
Hung owre his hurdie's wi' a swirl.

from "The Twa Dogs"

Sam does no poetry, but i'm sure i can get him to sing a little and raise his paws for the bard of hounds... or the hound of the bard.

positive thinking

meeting another dog accompanied by Sam has always been interesting. he used to be scared, to the point of wanting to flee, whenever we met -- or even just saw -- another dog on our walks. once, faced with an enthusiastic free-running dog, he broke the lead and tore off -- fortunately down a cul-de-sac and not into the ill-fated big road.

he gradually calmed down enough to just lie down whenever he saw anything canine. he looked like a rather fetching furry rug, but was impossible to get up until the menace had passed... unless, that is, he unexpectedly LEAPT at the other dog, making it scamper.

so, scared or scary, Sam has been a far cry from the "polite" and "well-behaved" dog we'd like to see. in part because of this, he's often walked at unsociable hours, or in fairly deserted areas.

yesterday, the two of us took the road less travelled, a path next to a bird sanctuary which was even partially flooded. and... we met a dog. a happy black lab, which splashed through the water ahead of its owner, then came out of the brush to have a look at us.

now, usually i have Sam on a fairly tight leash when we're approached by other dogs. and yes, i do feel anxious about what he may unexpectedly do next. then, however, i just felt calm. i greeted the dog happily, and so did Sam. just a polite nose sniff -- no jostling, and absolutely no jumping. the lab's owner even praised him for being such a nice big dog.

i can't guarantee that the next time we meet a dog it will be in such a relaxed situation as this. but i hope so, and if it is, i'll be confident Sam will behave -- and he will.

below freezing

for those of you who have been distracted by the recent floods in Africa, i can tell you that Europe has had its share of dramatic weather too, stuck under a spell of cold, and ice, and snow.



Sam the Snowdog hasn't minded this course of climactic events one bit. he's spent many long, happy hours out in the garden, just Being with the snow. but best of all is a big, open field full of fresh, fluffy snow. watching him trying to sniff, eat and run in the snow at the same time is very entertaining.

on the day when i took him to the big stray as a real treat, i noticed with surprise that the river had just frozen. i then watched as Sam zipped joyously back and forth on the white expanse of fun.

then he zoomed past me and down the bank. he didn't come back straight away, so i followed, to see what he'd found. it turned out he'd discovered about ice. he was out on it. ouch.

i called on him and hurried down towards the river. as i passed a tree, the ice must have broken, for when i was past it he was in a big black hole of water. only his head was sticking out.

i held out the treat i'd planned to use to lure him off the ice, and called and called. Sam made a heroic effort, but only managed to make a bigger hole. he rested his head on the ice. now i was really worried. had he given up?

a passing dog walker on the other bank -- which Sam was closer to -- got hold of a life buoy, but it was not of much use, as Sam was still too far away, and neither of us could get to him. the man's little dog looked worried at Sam's head in the water. i told them to keep going, i'd call someone if Sam didn't get out on his own. i also promised that i wouldn't try to jump in after him.

somehow, i thought i'd have better luck from the other side, so i ran back into the park, across the old railway bridge, jumped down onto the road and crossed it. in the river i saw... an empty hole. ouch again.

but wait. there was a set of tracks leading towards the hole, and another one, which must surely be leading out of it? and who was that on the other side, who was happily responding to my calls? SAM! panic must have given him wings. or perhaps he hadn't put down his head in despair, but to rest, or test the ice.

he was bouncing anxiously, wanting to get to me. once again in a panic, i told him to stay, stay, i really don't want you to go back onto the ice, you know. and funnily enough, he was content not to test it again.

now i had to go the long route around some houses to get back across the bridge and fetch Sam. as i was leaving, i saw him heading towards the bridge himself -- perhaps he was coming to meet me? another worry, as a happy, bouncy dog on snowy roads where there are cars is not such a good thing, either.

but i got back over the bridge without meeting Sam. where was he now? once again i called, and now he came running right up to me for a joyous reunification. i clipped on his leash and we hurried home, where he was wiped with two towels until his thick fur was only a little bit damp.

and then he wanted to go out and play in the snow again.



how many lives does that dog have? hopefully, at least the same amount of lives as a cat, or he'll be in serious trouble soon with his luck.

happy new year!

Sam is back from a most pleasant kennel stay, and has these new year's resolutions:
1. eat.
2. sleep.
3. finish off that blasted mattress so he can get a real dog bed.

oh, that Sam. always so ambitious!

a useful skill

this was Sam's first trick, figured out shortly after arriving with us, and kept honed because it brings its own reward. this is the first time i captured the whole thing...

a tale of fire and ice

when Sam came out one morning, he found that the water in one of his many storage containers was frozen. his immediate reaction was, naturally, to eat it.


a few days later, to his great and ecstatic joy, Sam found the ground covered in schnow! his initial was, naturally, to eat it.

after that, however, he turned into a snowdog once again. today, he's been out more than indoors. snow is just so much fun!

Sam, you're fired!

during his year with us Sam has definitely found his voice. i remember how, when he was living in the rescue kennel, he would jump up and down on the door to show how pleased he was to see us, but never bark like the other dogs did. after we took him home, he would howl sadly at night until he realised that we hadn't really left him for good.

it was a good while before he actually barked, but now he has figured it out. he'll bark if there's someone at the door, or something which makes noise in the street, but most of all he'll bark when Great Leader is coming home.

Sam's bark is quite loud, and a bit annoying if there's nothing to worry about. still, it can be useful to have a noisy dog -- a guard who'll deter thieves and other rabble, we thought.

then, my bike was stolen from just outside our door one night, and Sam didn't say a thing. it was my mistake, however, because i hadn't locked it, and someone could easily have been off with it without making much of an aural impression.

however! today, i discovered that someone had tried to take my two-week old replacement bike as well. this time, it was chained to the fence, and so the would-be thief had only succeeded in dislocatign the seat while trying to get it off.

this bike is also located right next to the outer door. and what did Sam do while this epic battle took place? he was an upside-down dog on his bed upstairs, and raised neither head nor voice. as a guard dog, he is a complete and utter failure!