Lily Archives - Smart Dog University

Remembering Lily

July 25, 2017

Remembering Lily

Tiger Lily
January 16, 2002 – July 7, 2017

It’s taken me some time to write Lily’s obituary post.

I don’t know if I’ve been avoiding it because it’s just too hard to write it or if I think it needs to be perfect. But enough is enough. So here goes, imperfections and all…

Lily was our matriarch.

The second service dog we raised (the first one to stay forever), Lily had a clear set of rules by which she lived her life. Feisty and fearless, Lily was a force. She was serious. She had a work ethic I wish I had. She’d do just about anything and never wanted a training session to end.

She was a Labrador, but she didn’t really like to retrieve and she wasn’t really into swimming.

She would retrieve if it was part of her job (if we were in a training session and I asked her to get her leash, for instance), but she was not the Labrador who would chase the ball for hours on end. And while she didn’t think too much of swimming, we couldn’t keep her out of Lake Anna where she’d fish all day long. Back and forth, head cocked to the side looking for minnows and blue gill, she’d be up to her belly in the lake from 9a until dark if we didn’t make her get out and rest.

She was one (of the three) reasons we went to the lake every year for vacation.

black Labradors, black Lab, service dog, service dog in training — Lily (~8 months) with her service dog pal, Rocky

(The other two reasons were Nemo and Tango.) We built a ramp so the dogs could get out of the water more efficiently and Lily navigated the ramp like a seasoned sailor. Her balance and love of all things unstable served her well at the lake where she loved jumping on the Jet Ski with us and tooling around the lake for as long as we’d let her. She jumped on the wake board and would hang out on it all day with us. If we moved toward the boathouse, she was the first in (and the last out). She was also notorious for taking a flying leap into the wheelbarrow whenever we had it out — she delighted in the challenge of keeping her balance in the wheelbarrow whether it was empty or filled with dirt. The more unstable the surface, the more she loved it.

While she wasn’t the retriever of the family (Tango held that title), she delighted in running interference after we threw Tango’s bumper into the lake. She’d bark, jump, grab the ruff of his neck and do everything she could to cause mischief for Tango, who lived to retrieve. Interfering in Tango’s retrieving was one of the few instances of silliness that Lily allowed herself.

We joked that Lily was the stereotypical librarian who wore her hair in a severe bun and shushed everyone else all the time.

Lily's still beautiful. — Photo by MaryKate Battles

She was the rule creator and enforcer. Playing was almost beneath her on any regular day. Playing was for dogs and Lily obviously didn’t group herself among “those things.” Her disdain for playing was almost comical.

Two or maybe three times a year, though, Lily would let her hair down, change out of her conservative suit, and let it rip.

And watch out! She was a WILD woman! We loved seeing that side of her come out, even though we knew “Wild Lily” would disappear almost as quickly as she arrived. She would solicit play from the others, she’d blatantly steal something just to get our attention, or she’d just straight up jump on Tango or Nemo to get them to notice her and her craziness. Her “hair down” moments were short, but intense, and then she’d be back to Librarian Lily.

Lily got along with all the dogs that came through our house, but she had a special affinity for Tango, particularly as she got older.

It wasn’t uncommon for me to find her curled up with Tango in his bed, tucked in as tight as a little bug in a rug. She began to follow Tango and looked for him for clues as to what was going on as her hearing and vision deteriorated in her senior years. She was clearly comforted by his presence.

black Labrador, black Lab, dog training, dog walking

Lily was an athlete. She could keep up with the boys, often outrunning and outmaneuvering them whenever they got too close and she was in danger of “being captured.” For many years, she was my walking partner. She pushed me hard, too! It wasn’t uncommon for me to jog just to keep up with her fast pace. She kept up her walks until she was about 15, although her speed did diminish a bit the last six months of her life.

We loved all her different personalities and enjoyed her growing old with us.

A few years ago, we noticed her hearing was diminished. A year or two later, it was clear that her eyesight was fading, too. I was amused when Lily started “getting into trouble” by standing on the dishwasher door to lick the plates or when she’d shop from the recycle bin. “Look at her, learning to live a little,” I’d say.

It became clear about a year later that what we were seeing was the beginning of canine cognitive dysfunction.

Her “living a little” turned into staring at the wall, going to the wrong side of the door (going to the hinged side instead of the open side to go out, for example), walking endless circles, loss of house training, and other little slips that were clearly more than normal aging. We made accommodations for her. We put the mattresses directly on the floor so she could get into and out of bed easily (she began to fall out of bed frequently as her eyesight got worse, and I was afraid she’d seriously hurt herself). I got her a raised feeder when she lost her balance putting her head down to drink or eat. We developed an alternative form of communication that didn’t rely on her hearing. (I’d tap her lightly on her back, which caused her to turn in my direction, and then I could direct her to move where I needed her to go.)

She also had what I think was degenerative myelopathy.

So while she wasn’t in any pain, she gradually lost the ability to control her hind end. Lily hated our help and so I tried to let her do as much on her own as she could. We knew, though, that there’d come a day when she wouldn’t be able to function without our help. We tried lots of things to help her (sticky spray for her feet, rug runners on all our hardwood or tile floors, sticky treads for the floor, etc.) and those helped for about a year, but on her last day with us, she couldn’t stand up even with our assistance.

She didn’t languish. One day she could walk, the next day she couldn’t.

And while she wasn’t in pain, she also wasn’t able to do anything for herself so we made the decision to let her go.

Our fabulous veterinarian came to our house and we all gathered ’round, feeding Lily bacon as she was sedated and finally euthanized. It was peaceful, it was quick, it was merciful. And that’s what she deserved. She gave life every single day she had. We laugh and say we think she and Nemo must have struck a bargain at some point and he gave her some of his days — he died at barely 11 years old while Lily lived to a fabulous 15.5 years.

We took her the very next morning to be cremated. We waited there for her and she was back home with us less than 18 hours after she died.

She was a tiny little Labrador, but man, did she have a large personality.

We will miss that little sprite for the rest of our days.

Living with Old Dogs: Lily’s Cliffhanger

April 20, 2017

Living with old dogs…it’s an adventure, to put it kindly.

A rollercoaster, even.

I’ve been sharing more of my old dog stories lately.

It’s what my life is like these days. I’m thankful for Schooner because while he’s middle aged (4 is getting up there for some Great Danes), he’s still playful and agile.

So my old girl, Lily, is 15 and 3 months.

Lily, old dog, black lab, Labrador, clicker training, Frederick. Smart Dog University Yes, at age 15, she gets credit for every month — when she’s 15 and a half, I may even start giving her credit for the weeks. Her canine cognitive dysfunction is in high gear. Her eyesight is getting worse, and I fear her hearing has completely abandoned her. I have self-diagnosed her with degenerative myelopathy, too. [I’m a dog trainer, not a veterinarian, so obviously, don’t rely on me or this blog for veterinary advice. Consult with your veterinarian for veterinary advice.] I’ll write another blog post about all these issues later, I just want to give you a glimpse into my crazy life and my crazy brain.

Early in the morning, around 5:15a, Lily fell out of bed.

No worries, the mattresses are directly on the floor to ensure she can still sleep on the bed and to be sure that when she does get out of bed (onto the carpeted floor) she doesn’t hurt herself. I heard her and I waited for her to get up and walk into the hallway, which is my cue to get up, follow her, and let her out to go to the bathroom.

But there was no noise. No movement.

I throw the covers off, flip the light on, and there she is, lying just as she fell. I go over to her, put my arms under her shoulders (at which point she usually rights herself and I then help her up). Nothing.

She still doesn’t move.

She’s breathing, she’ll even blink if I move my hand toward her face. But no movement. I call for my husband who is getting ready to leave for work. He gets on one end, I’m on the other and we lift her up. I’m sure she’ll start to move, stiffen her body, or somehow show some sort of indication that she’s aware of what’s happening and will try to help.

Nothing.

living with old dogs, Lab, labrador, black lab, Smart Dog University She’s breathing regularly, her gums are nice and pink, she blinks as I move my hand toward her eye. I watch her for another 15 minutes before the other dogs come in and tell me it’s their breakfast time. Confident I’m going to be calling my husband later in the day to tell him Lily has died, I reluctantly take care of the other dogs and get their breakfast ready.

Before I’m finished getting their breakfast ready, here comes Lily, be-bopping into the kitchen looking well-rested and ready for the day.

I laughed and laughed. That’s Lily. We joke that she’s like a Timex — takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’. She’s a tank: she’s not fast, but there’s nothing that can stop her. We know her time is coming, and it’s not too far in the future. But I believe that right up until that very minute, she’ll be trucking on — over and through anything that’s in her way.

So until that time comes, I’ll still check her breathing (at least) five times a day while she’s sleeping to make sure she’s still alive, I’ll clean up after her (the degenerative myelopathy contributes to her incontinence), and our house will look like a wayward home for throw rugs and runners (to help her keep her footing on our hardwood and tile floors).

Are you living with an old dog? Leave a comment with your adventures and roller coaster rides. I’d love to empathize with you.

Personal Life. Business Life. It All Blends Together Sometimes.

January 26, 2017

Personal life. Business life. It all blends together sometimes.

Most readers of the Smart Dog U blog know that I own Smart Dog University, a one-woman dog training business. Like most micro business owners, I do it all: accounting, marketing, admin, teaching, email, blogging, training, well, you get the picture.

In addition to the business, I have my personal life which includes (now) three dogs.

Two of which are seniors (13.75 years old and 15 years old), and the other is a 160 pound giant of a dog, Schooner the Great Dane. In the last 45 days, one of my dogs died, two of the three remaining have had surgery, and all three have been to the veterinarian in the last seven days.

vet, veterinarian, Great Dane, Labrador, yellow lab, black lab — Three dogs at the vet at the same time

Sometimes my personal life bleeds into and affects my business life.

When Nemo died, not only did my personal life go off the rails, but I had to cancel class that night, which I know put my clients out through no fault of their own. No one complained, of course, they were understanding of my situation and my distress, but still — personal affected business.

Just this week, I took my 13.75 year old Labrador, Tango, in for an ultrasound (we were trying to get to the bottom of some abnormal blood and urine results).

The week before, his chest x-rays showed no abnormalities, so I was fairly confident the ultrasound would be equally unremarkable.

Imagine my anguish when I was told he had a mass on his spleen.

That led to same-day surgery to remove the 7 cm mass.

yellow Labrador, lab, yellow lab, splenectomy, — Tango recovers from a splenectomy

Surgery is tough on an old dog. I’ve worked on my laptop from my couch since Monday (which is where I’m writing this blog post) — and slept here, too, so I can take care of this sweet old dog as he recovers with me at home.

yellow Labrador, yellow Lab, splenectomy — Nothing like a comfy chair at home to make you feel better after surgery.

I’ve turned down clients this week who wanted to schedule in-home training appointments.

I’m loathe to leave Tango alone while he’s recuperating and still woozy from the anesthesia and the subsequent daily pain medication. My husband has modified his schedule, giving up his time after work at the gym, to ensure that when I leave to teach my group dog training classes, that he’s able to be home with Tango.

Again, personal life affects business life.

While I’ve kept up with email (email is so easy — I can answer email from almost anywhere), I’ve fallen behind on returning phone calls. Today, I need to carve out an hour or so devoted solely to returning calls.

I know I’m likely to lose some business due to the personal life/business life crossover.

And that’s stressful. I want to be responsive. However, with two old dogs, I know I can’t be the best in both my professional and personal life. So for now, personal life takes priority.

I don’t know how long I’ll have these oldsters.

I can’t reschedule time with them — we have only a finite amount of time together. I have a robust net of qualified trainers to whom I can refer clients who can’t wait. And for that I’m thankful. And I’m especially thankful to those clients who understand that a phone call might be returned a day or two later, and would prefer it that way as they love their dogs just as much as I do mine.

To all my fellow micro business owners, we may feel scattered and strung-out, especially when our home lives intersect and cause disruptions in our business lives.

But with support from family and friends — and those fabulous clients who understand our dilemma — we’ll get through it. Those folks allow us to tip the balance occasionally to whichever side needs us the most. For that I’m eternally grateful.

To those who do business with one-person businesses, understand that we’re doing our absolute best and often are running two lives at the same time — our personal life and our business life.

And there’s often no line separating the two. That’s both the upside and the downside of running your own micro business. Sometimes my business gets more of me than my family does. Sometimes I have to pull back from the business because my family needs me. It’s a balancing act that, for the most part, pretty much balances out. Except when it doesn’t.

Lily’s Milestone: 15th Birthday

January 17, 2017

Lily’s Milestone 15th Birthday

A long time ago, I made this sweet thing promise she’d give me 15 years.

Lily, black Labrador, service dog — Lily as a youngster

Earlier this week, she made good on that promise.

The sweetest girl turned 15 on Sunday/Monday. (The date is in question because I have it January 15 on one of my calendars, and January 16 on another calendar.) Not that it matters — she made it to 15 either way!

black Lab, labrador, black labrador, birthday celebration — A Happy Birthday McDouble for Lily’s 15th!

When we have a service dog pup in training, their first birthday is a big deal around here — we generally only get that one big day before they head back to the service dog organization a few months later. Our permanent dogs usually get a big-deal party on milestone birthdays — the big decade and definitely the big 1-5!

The birthdays in the middle are hit and miss. I will never forgive myself for letting Nemo’s 11th birthday go uncelebrated in 2016. I was busy packing for my business trip to Kansas City and I thought we’d have him for several more birthdays. “I’ll catch it next year,” I remember thinking. I won’t be making that mistake again, for sure.

We usually go low-key for the non-milestone birthdays. Maybe some crumbled bacon in the dinner bowl, a nice, long walk, or some extra lovin’.

But this was a big one.

It called for the good stuff! I got party plates, balloons, candles, and double cheeseburgers for everyone! If I thought Lily would’ve enjoyed wearing a birthday party hat, I’d have bought those, too. The only part of the entire celebration that mattered to Lily was, naturally, the double cheeseburger! I got one for Tango and Schooner, too, because I thought, if they knew what a big deal this was, they’d want to partake, as well, in this Celebration of Lily.

As much as I’d like to request that Lily give me one more year and make it to 16, I don’t think that would be fair. She’s had a really good 15 years, and all I want for her now that she’s held up her end of the bargain is that she lives the best life I can give her.

Lily was the second service pup we raised.

She joined Rocky (the first service dog we raised) and they overlapped for several months. She was quite attached to Rocky, and I worried about Lily the day we took Rocky back for his next level of education.

Thankfully, Lily got to visit with Rocky every time she went back for her monthly check-ins. They would romp and play as if they’d never spent a day apart. And when Rocky graduated and got paired with his person, we were lucky enough to dog-watch Rocky a few times each year when his family traveled abroad. It was like homecoming when Rocky would visit. Lily and Rocky fell back into their old habits the instant he stepped back in the house.

She was quite the feisty girl when she was younger.

She was what we call “reactive on leash,” which means she’d act like a crazy-dog when she was leashed and we encountered another dog. We had no trouble introducing her to a new dog if she was off-leash. And thank goodness, she was just really noisy, she wasn’t aggressive toward other dogs. But that reactivity made outings a real pain in the neck. It was embarrassing to have this lovely little Labrador at the end of her leash up on her back legs, screaming her head off. “She’s not really mean, I promise,” I’d mutter as I crossed the street.

Lily was the dog who had to be crated whenever we left the house until she was about 12 years old.

She was the most mischievous little dog we’ve had! She delighted in getting into everything. Rip, shred, destroy! Sometimes she’d go a few months without destroying anything and I’d always think “Aha! We’re getting somewhere!” But then I’d come back home and find that she’d shredded or destroyed the very things she’d left alone those last few months. Back in the crate. To be honest, I think she misses her crate — she loved being crated, it was her zen room. She seeks out tight spaces to this day, I think she’s trying to recreate the solace that her crate gave her.

She is still fairly physically active for an old girl.

Her vision and hearing have declined, but she can still jump on the couch all by herself, loves to go for walks, enjoys being outside in the fresh air with the other dogs, and will still get a wild hair and jump around like she’s 3 years old.

black Labrador, black Lab, dog training, dog walking — Lily loves her walks!

Her cognitive ability continues to slip, but not to the point that she’s lost her zeal for life. There are bouts of wandering and circling, and sometimes it looks like she was on a mission to do something very important, but forgot what that was. Which is kinda how some of my days are now that I think about it.

Old, black, Labrador retriever, aging dog, dog training, Frederick — Losing her vision and her hearing, but still sweet!

I don’t know how much time we have left with this lovely lady, but we’re loving every day with her. Happy birthday, Sweet Lily!

For the Love of an Old Dog

May 4, 2015

I’ll do almost anything for the sake of my dogs.

This year, I’m giving up something I love dearly: raising service dogs. When we started raising puppies for service work back in 2001, I was a newlywed. I’d never owned a puppy ever and was a relative newcomer to the organized, specific training required of service dogs.

The second puppy we raised, Lily, our sweet now 13-year old, didn’t make it through the service dog program — and neither did the next two puppies we raised (Tango and Nemo). In the span of about three years, we went from one dog to four dogs! It was a fun time — we had a houseful of young dogs and always had a puppy in rotation. The dogs enjoyed the puppy, they helped raise him, entertain him, and teach him dog- and people-skills.

We hummed along happily, raising and loving the latest service puppy in training.

Over the years, our lives changed. I quit my Federal job and started Smart Dog University. I loved the job of puppy raiser. A new puppy every year, watching those young dogs learn and grow and turn into fabulous working dogs who were worth their weight in gold. I enjoyed every aspect of puppy raising, even house training.

“Puppy Raiser” became who I was.

It’s what I did. It became part of my identity. I was the “lady with the service dog puppy.” Raising a puppy didn’t slow me down, personally or professionally. I showed up for meetings, conferences, seminars, and talks with a puppy in tow. Often, I was the presenter and the pup would be my co-presenter. I don’t think people knew my name, but recognized me because of the puppy who was always with me, rain or shine.

Over the past few years, as our dogs grew older, we began to realize that our dogs seemed to be enjoying the puppies less. I still loved puppy raising, but our dogs didn’t think too much of it. They were snippier, it took them longer to accept the newest addition, they played with one another less, Tango wouldn’t chase his ball if the puppy was nearby… It was an endless number of things that had crept up on us silently, but once I noticed it, there was no denying it. Our dogs were done with puppy raising.

After Levi’s turn-in, I had a lot of travel on my calendar. I wasn’t going to get another puppy for at least three months. Good, I thought, this will give me a chance to see how our dogs do in a puppy-free house. The change in our dogs was clear after the puppy left. Overnight they began to play more, wag more, have more energy. They seemed happy to be retired from puppy raising. Lily, our matriarch, is thrilled with the decision. Tango loves our afternoons in the backyard now, where he can retrieve his tennis ball without being chased by a puppy, and Nemo has sole custody of my husband’s lap every evening.

If they’re happy, I’m happy.

Do I miss raising a puppy? You bet! But, my dogs have worked hard for 13 years raising pups — they’ve earned their retirement, I think. We’re now walking together every day, I have a chance to teach them new skills, and we have the time to just hang out under the shade tree together, enjoying this lovely spring here in the mid-Atlantic.

It’s taken a few months to get used to not having a puppy with me. I’m no longer “the lady with the service dog puppy,” and I’m a lot more ok with that than I thought. It’s likely that we’ll raise a puppy again, but not while we have our current menagerie. Hopefully, it’ll be quite a few years before we get back in the puppy raising routine, no matter how much I love it. Having my dogs happy and carefree is a little more important to me.

Talk back: have you altered your life or your home for your older dog(s)?

Train Your Dog Without a Clicker

February 19, 2015

I hear it a lot: “Do I HAVE to use the clicker?”

While I highly suggest using the clicker, nothing says it’s a requirement to teach your dog. However, what makes the clicker a useful tool is that it:

sounds the same every time
carries no emotion — every click is the same
doesn’t need “translation”
is unique — doesn’t sound like anything else in the environment

The clicker is definitely my tool of choice, but there are times when it’s not convenient to carry the clicker. Or, what if you find yourself without the clicker (or don’t want to be burdened by carrying it with you)?

Easy peasy: Use “YIP!” instead.

What is it?

Yip is a nonsense word that I say in a high-pitched, enthusiastic voice that stands in place of the clicker. It fulfills the same criteria listed above for the clicker, so I think it’s a great stand-in for the click.

How do you use it?

Use it just like you would use the clicker. Both the clicker and the yip are called “markers.” That means they mark the exact moment the dog is doing what you want and it also means the dog earned a goodie. To teach your dog that yip = treat, simply pair the yip with the appearance of the treat. Say yip and then reach to give your dog a treat. Repeat about te
n times and your dog will understand the meaning (and value) of yip.

When do you use it?

Use it whenever you want to tell your dog he’s done something right and can expect payment! When I’m training service dogs, they sometimes accompany me to public places like the library, a restaurant, or the movies. I’d be the villain if I clicked my way through a dinner or a movie, so I leave the clicker (but not the treats!) at home. I can modulate the volume of yip so I’m not annoying fellow movie goers with the essential training the service dogs need.

You might use yip in place of the clicker when your hands are full — maybe when you’re working on trimming nails or another grooming task that takes two hands. Or maybe when you’re walking two dogs at the same time. Or, not that this would happen to you, but maybe you forgot your clicker at home (or like me: just can’t find it!). The yip stands in whenever you don’t (or can’t) have your clicker on you.

Rules

The rules are the same no matter which marker you use:

If you yip, you must treat.
Yip only for stuff you want your dog to do more of (in other words, don’t yip to get your dog’s attention or get him to stop doing something)
Yip first, then treat.

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Lily

Remembering Lily

Tiger Lily January 16, 2002 – July 7, 2017

It’s taken me some time to write Lily’s obituary post.

Lily was our matriarch.

She was a Labrador, but she didn’t really like to retrieve and she wasn’t really into swimming.

She was one (of the three) reasons we went to the lake every year for vacation.

We joked that Lily was the stereotypical librarian who wore her hair in a severe bun and shushed everyone else all the time.

Two or maybe three times a year, though, Lily would let her hair down, change out of her conservative suit, and let it rip.

Lily got along with all the dogs that came through our house, but she had a special affinity for Tango, particularly as she got older.

We loved all her different personalities and enjoyed her growing old with us.

It became clear about a year later that what we were seeing was the beginning of canine cognitive dysfunction.

She also had what I think was degenerative myelopathy.

And while she wasn’t in pain, she also wasn’t able to do anything for herself so we made the decision to let her go.

Living with old dogs…it’s an adventure, to put it kindly.

I’ve been sharing more of my old dog stories lately.

So my old girl, Lily, is 15 and 3 months.

Early in the morning, around 5:15a, Lily fell out of bed.

But there was no noise. No movement.

She still doesn’t move.

Nothing.

Before I’m finished getting their breakfast ready, here comes Lily, be-bopping into the kitchen looking well-rested and ready for the day.

Are you living with an old dog? Leave a comment with your adventures and roller coaster rides. I’d love to empathize with you.

Personal life. Business life. It all blends together sometimes.

In addition to the business, I have my personal life which includes (now) three dogs.

Sometimes my personal life bleeds into and affects my business life.

Just this week, I took my 13.75 year old Labrador, Tango, in for an ultrasound (we were trying to get to the bottom of some abnormal blood and urine results).

Imagine my anguish when I was told he had a mass on his spleen.

I’ve turned down clients this week who wanted to schedule in-home training appointments.

Again, personal life affects business life.

I know I’m likely to lose some business due to the personal life/business life crossover.

I don’t know how long I’ll have these oldsters.

To all my fellow micro business owners, we may feel scattered and strung-out, especially when our home lives intersect and cause disruptions in our business lives.

To those who do business with one-person businesses, understand that we’re doing our absolute best and often are running two lives at the same time — our personal life and our business life.

Lily’s Milestone 15th Birthday

A long time ago, I made this sweet thing promise she’d give me 15 years.

Earlier this week, she made good on that promise.

But this was a big one.

Lily was the second service pup we raised.

She was quite the feisty girl when she was younger.

Lily was the dog who had to be crated whenever we left the house until she was about 12 years old.

She is still fairly physically active for an old girl.

I don’t know how much time we have left with this lovely lady, but we’re loving every day with her. Happy birthday, Sweet Lily!

I’ll do almost anything for the sake of my dogs.

We hummed along happily, raising and loving the latest service puppy in training.

“Puppy Raiser” became who I was.

If they’re happy, I’m happy.

Talk back: have you altered your life or your home for your older dog(s)?

I hear it a lot: “Do I HAVE to use the clicker?”

What is it?

How do you use it?

When do you use it?

Rules

Talk back! What’s your marker to use in place of the click?

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Tiger Lily
January 16, 2002 – July 7, 2017