Day: June 20, 2012

Dear Karen Thompson, I wrote once about the idea of the lifetime dog, a dog that enters your life at a particular point in time and marks it forever. I thought at the time that you could only have one lifetime dog, but I have had more than one. There was Orson, who brought me to the farm, a dog beyond my ability to change or contain. And Rose, who made my life here possible. And Lenore, who kept love alive for me when I most needed it.

Red and I walk on the path together in the morning, before Maria awakens. He walks ahead of me a few feet, and then turns to make sure I am coming along. My dog.

Now, you have given me Red. He is, in two days, a lifetime dog, my companion and kindred spirit. It is almost as if he grew out of the soil here, he fits in so well.  We already read other like a well-worn book.  When I asked you how much I could pay you for Red, you said you wouldn’t – couldn’t – take any money for him. You felt that God had led him to me, and you couldn’t take money for that. Who does that in our world? Who gives a dog like that away for free?

People have all kinds of strange ideas about what it means to love a dog, but I think you and I Karen,  see that in the same way. You do what is best for the dog, even if it is not best for you. Love sometimes means letting go.

I know you got Red out of a bad situation and gave him a good one. I know you gave him the great gift of training – how to live in the world. I know that you and Red are soulmates, as you are both hard-working with great hearts and much courage. I did not appreciate until I got to know him what a remarkable dog he is – he will take me to many new places – what a wonderful trainer you are, and how good your profoundly spiritual instincts are in pairing him up with me. You will not  regret it, I promise you that.

You are person of great faith, character and integrity and apart from the great gift of Red, there is the great gift of your friendship, of great value to me. I have not always had good friends in my life, and what a joy to finally be finding some. I love our evening phone calls, your tar-thick Southern accent (You pronounce Vermont in four syllables), your great sense of humor. I loved that when I told you Red was having some trouble getting balky sheep to move, you said, “well, get in there with him and support your dog. Give them a poke with your foot. You’re in it, too.” I did, and they moved.

A great dog is no more a pet to me than to you.  A great dog is a partner to walk into life alongside a lucky  and simple human being.  Something by your side to trust and love. Not a wife or husband, but a partner still, a pure and enduring presence. You knew that Red was ready for a life that included work but also transcended work. You know I could provide that to him and I will.

So walking on the path with Red I thought of writing this Dear Karen letter, in the hopes that you would see it first thing in the morning when you get up on your farm, check on  your dogs and have your first cup of coffee. I know you are not a blogger, but I suspect someone will let you know about the letter.

I think I will always think of you when I think of Red, two loving and honest and generous spirits, lights unto the world. Thank you, sweet spirit, good friend, and that rarest thing – a truly selfless advocate for dogs. Thanks from both of us.

For me, the greatest art sometimes come from my front yard, a democratic place without self-absorbed artists and writers, galleries and gatekeepers. Art has its own rules. I was thinking about the heat wave gripping the  farm – even Red is comatose – and I saw the hazy sun light up a flower hanging on the porch in a basket, red flowers behind it. It seemed holy to me, sacred, a call to life, a sacred spark, the light calling me to step out of fear, anger and judgement, to be my own person, to stand for love and light. To tell my story and encourage others to do the same.

I’m getting hundreds of questions about Red,and while I can’t answer them personally, I will try and speak to some of the most frequently asked. I appreciate the interest. He has touched a nerve and many hearts.

– Red is not a rescue dog. I think he was roughly handled at some points, but I would not describe him as abused. He was born and bred in County Tyrone, Northern Island, then made his way to Karen Thompson in Virginia. She is a famous border collie breeder, trainer and advocate, the kind of person I approach when I want a dog. We talked for weeks and for many hours before she agreed to let me have Red. She was as careful about me as I was about him.

I believe there are two good ways for me to get a dog: “rescue” dogs like Frieda or Izzy have been wonderful dogs for me. But both have experienced sometimes severe behavioral and medical problems, including the savage cancer that ended Izzy’s life prematurely. Izzy and the dogs in his line had a number of breeding/health issues and Frieda came close to being euthanized for her behavioral issues towards men and dogs and other animals.

With a working dog – or a therapy dog, or a companion animal that goes into the world  – I don’t play Russian Roulette with behavioral and medical histories. I have to know precisely where the dog came from, what the breeding lines were, what the health,  litter and other experience is. Karen has that information about Red, worked with him closely, even daily, for some years. I knew just about everything about this dog before I met him. That is generally the way I like to choose dog. That is how I got Pearl,  Lenore, and then Rose. The most important part of getting a dog for me is the process of choosing one, often the part of the process many people spend the least amount of time on. I don’t get a dog in order to rescue one or not to rescue one. That is secondary.

The best traits in Red and Rose came from good breeding and training. That is why Red is a remarkable dog. Many rescue dogs are remarkable dogs – I have two – but it is a different process. I  reject the moral and often unknowing bullying of many people about there only being one way to get a dog. This harms as many dogs as it helps.  There are several ways to get a dog, of course. There are several ways to do anything.

I am using a number of positive reinforcement training techniques with Red – and he is already very well trained. The issues he has do not relate to herding, but to living in a household, which he has never done, jumping up, riding in a car,  basic obedience. He will come for me, but not for anyone else yet. He was not fully housebroken and tends to jump up and paw people – a minor thing but not something I want him doing to the many people who reach down and hug him, and who inadvertently reinforce this behavior. Red is more than appropriate with other dogs – is calm and easy with them. He is not used to leashes, and is not street trained.

Right now, training is pretty basic. Five minutes, two or three times a day. I want him to be successful, confident, relaxed.  I stand 20 feet from him and Maria calls him. Takes two or three times, but he is beginning to do it. I ask him to “lie down,” and then, “stay.” When I get him staying for three minutes, he will have learned that. That will take about six months.

Border collies are obsessives and are easily driven mad by people throwing balls and stimulating them all day, often out of guilt. They can also attach powerfully to people to bring them to sheep. So they have to get to know other people and obey them. They have to have more than one activity. Red is coming along with me as I shop and see people. There is no playing in the house, no toys. He spends two hours in the crate for every hour herding. In the crate at night. Works in the morning. To get to sheep he must lie down at the road for two minutes, then cross. Then lie down, and then come to me, and if she is there, to Maria. I don’t want him obeying only me. We are making him stay at the gate, stay before going out the door, stay before coming in. I don’t permit “push” dogs who plow ahead of me or behind me. People go first.

These are the things we are working on. I’ll provide more details through the week. It’s going very well. No accidents in the house, no incidents with other dogs, and he is really getting the “stay,” “lie down” and come commands. Going slow, very patient, very focused. Few words, clear commands.

Most people do not know that donkeys are ferocious guard animals, and Simon in particular really dislikes dogs. He sees border collies as coyotes coming in to attack the sheep, I think, or perhaps the other donkeys. He nearly killed Lenore when he first saw her – she won’t go near him – so I am trying to introduce him to Red gradually. Red seems unimpressed and so far skirts around him, but I’m moving slow.

I realized this week that I need a border collie in my life. Somehow, our minds are alike, God help us all.

Later today I want to write about training Red.

So this is the message. What I learn every day.

When you feel the fear. When you hear the voices in your head

telling you that it can’t be done, shouldn’t be done, that the

world is too overwhelming for a chump like you, then respect yourself.

Move forward. Listen to a different whisper. That says this:

You are good. You are worthwhile. You can live the life you wish.

If you move forward. Change the script in your head. Write a different story.

On some level beyond my comprehension, Red knows this. I am learning what

he has been through, how generous and accepting and loving he has chosen

to be. And how strange. I want to be the same way.