Glad to read you are taking on the challenge of a mazurka and I wish you success. As for poor Eli, as a breeder of show/performance dogs, whenever I raised a litter I introduced them to various sounds, including falling pots and gunfire (I have hunting dogs) simultaneously with a good experience (food, toys, cuddles). But every puppy in the litter is different, some could care less while others were sound sensitive, no matter how much exposure to sound I offered. It's difficult to have a sound sensitive dog, especially with thunder and fireworks. I hope the weather improves and Eli can relax.
Yes, like you, I did all the things with all my dogs, but they are all different, and Eli is particularly fearful. He is alarmed by airplanes overhead.
I have been busy the last few weeks. Your posts have been put on hold until I found the time to enjoy them. What a treat. Until this one, I went through all four seasons at your house. Having read your posts for a few years I am familiar with the high points of year-round living in Wisconsin. You make it sound so nifty that this Floridian would love to pack up and move north. But then again, I have lived in the north, 3 years in Boston and 35 years in Atlanta. Atlanta weather bears no resemblance to your house, but it does get cold and a yearly snow or ice storm to varying degrees, no electricity for days on end, roads iced and not cleared and hauling the wood upstairs to the fireplace is enough for me. Besides, there are great skin friendly mosquito repellant on the market these days. Thanks for the check in. Marilyn
I'm glad you're feeling well enough to tackle your piano. Hopefully it won't be much longer until you are feeling well enough to take on whatever you want. Poor Eli, please give him a hug from me. He really does look scared.
And probably drooling. My Gypsy is stone deaf so thunder is not a problem, she just tumbles outside into the rain and comes back soaking wet! Dogs, they said, it’’ll be fun, they said! Sounds like you’re on the mend. Getting frustrated at a price of sheet music is evidence of the road to wellness. Love to you, and those troublesome biggies.
I am glad to hear you are feeling better. Poor Eli, I hope the thunder has passed so he can relax and come out of the fireplace. Not to make light of the situation, I have just never seen a shepherd in a fireplace before!
I had difficulty concentrating on this post after reading that you might cut one of your favorite parts of the book. I hate that we readers might have to miss it! Some of my favorite characters are in this series. But now all I can think of is poor Eli, I hope the storm doesn’t last.
Reading this reminded me of a bitter-sweet moment with my big dobe. He got ANGRY when there was thunder, he would go from window to window trying to see who dared to challenge him and he would bark loudly a few times in response. He did that until he was around 13yrs old, I wondered why and then I realized he couldn't probably hear it anymore. I went over to the sofa he was sitting on and held him, told him it was alright that he didn't have to worry about the thunder anymore and that he was a good boy with tears going down my face. I was trying to be happy that he would never be angry again at a storm while also very sad realizing "my boy" was now very old. He licked my face and was happy to see me. A great consolation is he was still always happy to see me for the 2yrs he had after that. 15 good years. 😊🐾
That is a bittersweet moment. Pete, too, became too deaf to be afraid, and it was a blessing, but also sad. How lucky we are to have such beautiful and sensitive creatures in our lives.
Oh my goodness, James; what a personality your beloved boy had. 🥲 My little Siamese mix, Lucy, hated thunder so much that she would hide under my (low positioned) coffee table. As she aged, she seemed to not be affected any longer, so I assumed she, too, had become deaf. I lost her at age 16-1/2 on March 14. No more storms, baby girl. 💔
Thank you so much for caring. I'm doing better. I have her cremains in a nice urn. I have a male cat left who's spending a lot of time with me. Time softens the hurt. 💕
Fifteen years is a long life for a Dobie, but any span short of our own lifetime is too short. I had two beautiful, sweet Dobes in my life, Ollie and Berkeley, and I still touch into pockets of grief from time to time. It is ineffably sad to lose a beloved dog. 🐾❣️
I have a friend who's family had a doberman rescue for multiple generations and he told me that he never saw a 15yr old doberman, he said he saw three 14yr old dobermans and he saw hundreds of dobe's. The odd thing is my dobe was large and often large dogs don't live as long. He was near 120lbs in his prime, he was about as muscular as a dobe could be. Thick muscular neck that was a little wider than his head , big chest and muscular tall legs, he could put his front paws on my shoulders when I stood tall. He was very athletic too. I am a big guy, a short 6'5" & 250lb+ and among his favourite things he liked to play was "feats of strength" with me. I'd get on my knees and we'd grapple, tug of war with a rope. I'd do "pull downs" (rope over a tree limb and he'd hang on to the end of the rope). I'd always give up before he let go. I couldn't get his jaws apart if he had hold of something and I was strong then, I could easily pick up the back end of a small car. He was also the fastest dog I ever had, we'd run him on a rural straight dirt side road behind a pick up truck (I'd sit in the truck bed and call him) and he could hold 48mph for a mile. (People have told me that's impossible, I saw him do it many times.) He once jumped a 7ft fence while chasing a big buck. He was playing, I saw him run beside the buck for a 1/4 mile, he just wanted someone to run with. He was an alpha with zero prey drive. He had NO interest in cats, rabbits, squirrels, small dogs but any other large dog that didn't bow down to him meant he wanted to fight. On 2 occasions, I had to drag him away on a leash when we encountered a black bear on a nature walk. (Both times I was lucky that I saw the bear before he did and I managed to get the leash on him.) A funny thing is a local farmer would pass by our house on Sundays with a horse and cart. If the farmer was using his white horse, my dobe would barely look up at him. If the farmer was using his black horse then my dobe would lose his mind and I'd hold him until the farmer with his horse & cart were out of sight. I always wondered if my big dobe thought the black horse was giant black doberman? He was smart for a dog, the only dog we had that I never saw do anything "gross" like pick up a dead animal etc. We did however have to change our kitchen garbage container that had a pedal to open it, he'd press the pedal to get roast beef or steak bones. We've had multiple dobes and even took care of a couple of them while their owners needed the help. All good dogs.
You are right about their short lifespan. If having a good soul meant anything for longevity, then dogs would outlive us. 😊🐾
That is an interesting story about your dog’s polar reactions to the two horses. Don’t you wish you could have asked him? He sounds very special, and I bet you still miss him. My Doberman, Berkeley, unbeknownst to me or anyone, was born with a congenital liver malfunction; he could not metabolize copper. Copper thus built up in his liver and, over time destroyed it. We discovered this through routine labs and began to treat it; I got a special copper-free diet for him for home-cooked food from the university veterinary hospital and cooked his meals and chelated the copper in his system with big pills of penicillamine. But he did not make it. After 10 months , he died; he was not quite 3 years old. He had so much heart; one week before he passed, we were in the woods, and I recalled him to jump about 9 feet over 2 large fallen trees - he gloried in doing that. He was the most beautiful dog, with natural ears and a shiny, black coat. Very athletic and loved to fetch tennis balls hit with a racket. In the days before he died, I was walking him around our house with the help of a towel to support his hindquarters. Suddenly he rallied and started walking with great purpose toward the pond and woods where we had walked every day. He found the strength to make it all the way down the dam and back. He was determined. Later, he walked through our home, going into every room and taking it in. I was weeping. That night he left his bed beside my chair and sat squarely in front of me, gazing into my eyes. He would not break his gaze. I knew he was saying goodbye. Shortly after we went to my bedroom to sleep, he began to seize. He was otherwise healthy and too fit to yield to death, but his quality of life was now gone, so I drove him to the vet to stop his suffering. It was the most painful loss of my life. I kept a journal of his final days. How I loved him. Thank you for sharing your story. It helps me. There is something about loving a dog, really knowing a dog and being known, that brings out the tenderness in us. I am so grateful for that.
I'm sorry about your pup. Dogs are the best and you are right that they would be an interesting conversation. "Let's go for a drive and we can stop and get some burgers at the drive through.." 😊🐾
James, I just came across your response to my response (!!) to your post about your precious dog. I want to ask how you are doing, as that was a hard loss. When my Berkeley died, I looked at his photos a lot, and videos of him running, and I always wept and wondered if perhaps it was too painful; but then I would feel better; it was cathartic and helped me to release some grief. I hope you are well. I don’t think we ever really get over the grief, but over time it softens. Anyone who has loved a dog understands.
Your story brought tears to my eyes. How lucky Berkeley was to have found one of those rare people who was able to try to find the problem and prolong his life. I know how wrenching it is to lose a young dog—it’s hard enough to lose an elderly one—and I know it is a grief that marks you forever. Loving him as much as you did and losing him is probably one of the hardest things you’ll ever do.
I just now saw your comment about Berkeley. Thank you so much. I am learning my way around Substack at the same time I am recovering from a stroke that damaged my memory and my ability with words, which had been defining characteristics. A sense of humor is required. Today I happened upon a page with all the replies to my comments (who knew that was out there?!) and was rewarded with your kind response.
I enjoy your posts so much. They are full of love and reality, and they resonate for me. I told a friend about the limping turkey who had been turned away from his family and its comfort and protection; I said “Now I am worried for that turkey.” I mention this to say that your writing stays with me; you made me see the turkey and its distress. Today, it is the earring; I have an earring story, too
Always, the dogs. I hope to figure out how to send you a photo of Satchel on Substack. I haven’t photographed him in his raincoat; it is a hand-me-down from Berkeley and from Ollie before him They were Dobermans, 80 lbs., and Satchel is a big German shepherd, 100 lbs., with a long spine. He is huge. A lot of his back sticks out from the coat. It serves to keep him from getting soaked. It does not scream “photo op.” He does not mind.
I hope you’re feeling better and free of the cough. Sending good vibes on the energy paths.
Your big guy and my Moses had so much in common. How lucky you were to have him for fifteen years. And how lucky you both were to have each other. Your stories never fail to bring tears to my eyes. What would we do without dogs?
It is heartbreaking to see them so frightened. I think it is wonderful that you have such great distractions in a time when we are getting mired deeper and deeper into the insane asylum. Take care.
Poor Eli, it's distressing to see our beloved pets struggle. You may have have tried this already - it seems like you have tried a lot of different things - but I have read about some success with frightened dogs that don't respond to the usual desensitization approach; would it help to create a safe space that Eli can go to and just hide out, where he'd feel a bit more secure? Maybe a crate draped in blankets, with a nice soft bed, located in a central part of the house, or basement, where the flashes, sound and vibration are less. Just a thought.
As an aside, our GSD Rolo is also reactive to loud noises like thunderstorms and fireworks (hence my having read extensively about this). His is a different issue, though. He doesn't seem afraid, just seems affronted and wants to go outside and sort out whatever is making this noise. Interestingly, when he's at daycare, he doesn't react to thunder at all... We suspect he feels the need to protect us and our home from the dastardly thunderstorms, but he doesn't feel like he's on duty at daycare...
He has just such a spot. It’s deep in the basement near the dryer. He likes the sound of it, and asks to have it turned on. But today he wanted to be near me. I don’t always understand what he needs, but I do try.
It never ceases to amaze me how different dog personalities can be. They have their own unique character and temperament, with their own likes, dislikes, idiosyncrasies and foibles. Part of the joy of having dogs is discovering all of these and loving them for who they are. And, of course, never, ever judging them for who they aren't.
Eli breaks my heart: such an imposing, fearsome and majestic being. When in fact, he is a tiny, cuddly Velcro puppy who wants to hide in mama’s lap. Please kiss him for me.
Ah, Eli. If you're not going to use the fireplace again until Fall, you could clean it out and put in a cozy dog bed--but that is me, the worst disciplinarian ever.
Oh my! Love sweet Eli. ❤️
Pour Elli I hope he calmed down now and you can work on you book and your piano. Have a good Sunday.
Poor baby. Life sucks when you are afraid. Maggie is having a lap day too with this rain. She hears the thunder
Glad to read you are taking on the challenge of a mazurka and I wish you success. As for poor Eli, as a breeder of show/performance dogs, whenever I raised a litter I introduced them to various sounds, including falling pots and gunfire (I have hunting dogs) simultaneously with a good experience (food, toys, cuddles). But every puppy in the litter is different, some could care less while others were sound sensitive, no matter how much exposure to sound I offered. It's difficult to have a sound sensitive dog, especially with thunder and fireworks. I hope the weather improves and Eli can relax.
Yes, like you, I did all the things with all my dogs, but they are all different, and Eli is particularly fearful. He is alarmed by airplanes overhead.
Sending love and peace to dear Eli. ❤️
I have been busy the last few weeks. Your posts have been put on hold until I found the time to enjoy them. What a treat. Until this one, I went through all four seasons at your house. Having read your posts for a few years I am familiar with the high points of year-round living in Wisconsin. You make it sound so nifty that this Floridian would love to pack up and move north. But then again, I have lived in the north, 3 years in Boston and 35 years in Atlanta. Atlanta weather bears no resemblance to your house, but it does get cold and a yearly snow or ice storm to varying degrees, no electricity for days on end, roads iced and not cleared and hauling the wood upstairs to the fireplace is enough for me. Besides, there are great skin friendly mosquito repellant on the market these days. Thanks for the check in. Marilyn
I'm glad you're feeling well enough to tackle your piano. Hopefully it won't be much longer until you are feeling well enough to take on whatever you want. Poor Eli, please give him a hug from me. He really does look scared.
And probably drooling. My Gypsy is stone deaf so thunder is not a problem, she just tumbles outside into the rain and comes back soaking wet! Dogs, they said, it’’ll be fun, they said! Sounds like you’re on the mend. Getting frustrated at a price of sheet music is evidence of the road to wellness. Love to you, and those troublesome biggies.
I am glad to hear you are feeling better. Poor Eli, I hope the thunder has passed so he can relax and come out of the fireplace. Not to make light of the situation, I have just never seen a shepherd in a fireplace before!
It’s a little silly.
I had difficulty concentrating on this post after reading that you might cut one of your favorite parts of the book. I hate that we readers might have to miss it! Some of my favorite characters are in this series. But now all I can think of is poor Eli, I hope the storm doesn’t last.
Never fear. It will all come out just as it’s supposed to be.
Really ruthless editing is what makes books great. For authors, it must make life hell.
Reading this reminded me of a bitter-sweet moment with my big dobe. He got ANGRY when there was thunder, he would go from window to window trying to see who dared to challenge him and he would bark loudly a few times in response. He did that until he was around 13yrs old, I wondered why and then I realized he couldn't probably hear it anymore. I went over to the sofa he was sitting on and held him, told him it was alright that he didn't have to worry about the thunder anymore and that he was a good boy with tears going down my face. I was trying to be happy that he would never be angry again at a storm while also very sad realizing "my boy" was now very old. He licked my face and was happy to see me. A great consolation is he was still always happy to see me for the 2yrs he had after that. 15 good years. 😊🐾
That is a bittersweet moment. Pete, too, became too deaf to be afraid, and it was a blessing, but also sad. How lucky we are to have such beautiful and sensitive creatures in our lives.
😊
Oh my goodness, James; what a personality your beloved boy had. 🥲 My little Siamese mix, Lucy, hated thunder so much that she would hide under my (low positioned) coffee table. As she aged, she seemed to not be affected any longer, so I assumed she, too, had become deaf. I lost her at age 16-1/2 on March 14. No more storms, baby girl. 💔
Such a difficult loss. How are you doing?
Thank you so much for caring. I'm doing better. I have her cremains in a nice urn. I have a male cat left who's spending a lot of time with me. Time softens the hurt. 💕
Yes, time does help. But having your cat must make a big difference, too.
He is kind of a brat, but he does help. 🙂
Fifteen years is a long life for a Dobie, but any span short of our own lifetime is too short. I had two beautiful, sweet Dobes in my life, Ollie and Berkeley, and I still touch into pockets of grief from time to time. It is ineffably sad to lose a beloved dog. 🐾❣️
It is among the hardest things I’ve ever experienced.
They teach us so much except how to go on without them 😞
So true.
I have a friend who's family had a doberman rescue for multiple generations and he told me that he never saw a 15yr old doberman, he said he saw three 14yr old dobermans and he saw hundreds of dobe's. The odd thing is my dobe was large and often large dogs don't live as long. He was near 120lbs in his prime, he was about as muscular as a dobe could be. Thick muscular neck that was a little wider than his head , big chest and muscular tall legs, he could put his front paws on my shoulders when I stood tall. He was very athletic too. I am a big guy, a short 6'5" & 250lb+ and among his favourite things he liked to play was "feats of strength" with me. I'd get on my knees and we'd grapple, tug of war with a rope. I'd do "pull downs" (rope over a tree limb and he'd hang on to the end of the rope). I'd always give up before he let go. I couldn't get his jaws apart if he had hold of something and I was strong then, I could easily pick up the back end of a small car. He was also the fastest dog I ever had, we'd run him on a rural straight dirt side road behind a pick up truck (I'd sit in the truck bed and call him) and he could hold 48mph for a mile. (People have told me that's impossible, I saw him do it many times.) He once jumped a 7ft fence while chasing a big buck. He was playing, I saw him run beside the buck for a 1/4 mile, he just wanted someone to run with. He was an alpha with zero prey drive. He had NO interest in cats, rabbits, squirrels, small dogs but any other large dog that didn't bow down to him meant he wanted to fight. On 2 occasions, I had to drag him away on a leash when we encountered a black bear on a nature walk. (Both times I was lucky that I saw the bear before he did and I managed to get the leash on him.) A funny thing is a local farmer would pass by our house on Sundays with a horse and cart. If the farmer was using his white horse, my dobe would barely look up at him. If the farmer was using his black horse then my dobe would lose his mind and I'd hold him until the farmer with his horse & cart were out of sight. I always wondered if my big dobe thought the black horse was giant black doberman? He was smart for a dog, the only dog we had that I never saw do anything "gross" like pick up a dead animal etc. We did however have to change our kitchen garbage container that had a pedal to open it, he'd press the pedal to get roast beef or steak bones. We've had multiple dobes and even took care of a couple of them while their owners needed the help. All good dogs.
You are right about their short lifespan. If having a good soul meant anything for longevity, then dogs would outlive us. 😊🐾
That is an interesting story about your dog’s polar reactions to the two horses. Don’t you wish you could have asked him? He sounds very special, and I bet you still miss him. My Doberman, Berkeley, unbeknownst to me or anyone, was born with a congenital liver malfunction; he could not metabolize copper. Copper thus built up in his liver and, over time destroyed it. We discovered this through routine labs and began to treat it; I got a special copper-free diet for him for home-cooked food from the university veterinary hospital and cooked his meals and chelated the copper in his system with big pills of penicillamine. But he did not make it. After 10 months , he died; he was not quite 3 years old. He had so much heart; one week before he passed, we were in the woods, and I recalled him to jump about 9 feet over 2 large fallen trees - he gloried in doing that. He was the most beautiful dog, with natural ears and a shiny, black coat. Very athletic and loved to fetch tennis balls hit with a racket. In the days before he died, I was walking him around our house with the help of a towel to support his hindquarters. Suddenly he rallied and started walking with great purpose toward the pond and woods where we had walked every day. He found the strength to make it all the way down the dam and back. He was determined. Later, he walked through our home, going into every room and taking it in. I was weeping. That night he left his bed beside my chair and sat squarely in front of me, gazing into my eyes. He would not break his gaze. I knew he was saying goodbye. Shortly after we went to my bedroom to sleep, he began to seize. He was otherwise healthy and too fit to yield to death, but his quality of life was now gone, so I drove him to the vet to stop his suffering. It was the most painful loss of my life. I kept a journal of his final days. How I loved him. Thank you for sharing your story. It helps me. There is something about loving a dog, really knowing a dog and being known, that brings out the tenderness in us. I am so grateful for that.
I'm sorry about your pup. Dogs are the best and you are right that they would be an interesting conversation. "Let's go for a drive and we can stop and get some burgers at the drive through.." 😊🐾
James, I just came across your response to my response (!!) to your post about your precious dog. I want to ask how you are doing, as that was a hard loss. When my Berkeley died, I looked at his photos a lot, and videos of him running, and I always wept and wondered if perhaps it was too painful; but then I would feel better; it was cathartic and helped me to release some grief. I hope you are well. I don’t think we ever really get over the grief, but over time it softens. Anyone who has loved a dog understands.
Your story brought tears to my eyes. How lucky Berkeley was to have found one of those rare people who was able to try to find the problem and prolong his life. I know how wrenching it is to lose a young dog—it’s hard enough to lose an elderly one—and I know it is a grief that marks you forever. Loving him as much as you did and losing him is probably one of the hardest things you’ll ever do.
I just now saw your comment about Berkeley. Thank you so much. I am learning my way around Substack at the same time I am recovering from a stroke that damaged my memory and my ability with words, which had been defining characteristics. A sense of humor is required. Today I happened upon a page with all the replies to my comments (who knew that was out there?!) and was rewarded with your kind response.
I enjoy your posts so much. They are full of love and reality, and they resonate for me. I told a friend about the limping turkey who had been turned away from his family and its comfort and protection; I said “Now I am worried for that turkey.” I mention this to say that your writing stays with me; you made me see the turkey and its distress. Today, it is the earring; I have an earring story, too
Always, the dogs. I hope to figure out how to send you a photo of Satchel on Substack. I haven’t photographed him in his raincoat; it is a hand-me-down from Berkeley and from Ollie before him They were Dobermans, 80 lbs., and Satchel is a big German shepherd, 100 lbs., with a long spine. He is huge. A lot of his back sticks out from the coat. It serves to keep him from getting soaked. It does not scream “photo op.” He does not mind.
I hope you’re feeling better and free of the cough. Sending good vibes on the energy paths.
Your big guy and my Moses had so much in common. How lucky you were to have him for fifteen years. And how lucky you both were to have each other. Your stories never fail to bring tears to my eyes. What would we do without dogs?
Moses loved his pack. He was in the top 1% of the top 1%. Moses was magnificent. 😊🐾
He was.
It is heartbreaking to see them so frightened. I think it is wonderful that you have such great distractions in a time when we are getting mired deeper and deeper into the insane asylum. Take care.
Poor Eli, it's distressing to see our beloved pets struggle. You may have have tried this already - it seems like you have tried a lot of different things - but I have read about some success with frightened dogs that don't respond to the usual desensitization approach; would it help to create a safe space that Eli can go to and just hide out, where he'd feel a bit more secure? Maybe a crate draped in blankets, with a nice soft bed, located in a central part of the house, or basement, where the flashes, sound and vibration are less. Just a thought.
As an aside, our GSD Rolo is also reactive to loud noises like thunderstorms and fireworks (hence my having read extensively about this). His is a different issue, though. He doesn't seem afraid, just seems affronted and wants to go outside and sort out whatever is making this noise. Interestingly, when he's at daycare, he doesn't react to thunder at all... We suspect he feels the need to protect us and our home from the dastardly thunderstorms, but he doesn't feel like he's on duty at daycare...
He has just such a spot. It’s deep in the basement near the dryer. He likes the sound of it, and asks to have it turned on. But today he wanted to be near me. I don’t always understand what he needs, but I do try.
Perhaps you need a comfy chair next to the dryer! ;)
We can sit nearby in the family room.
Moses wasn’t afraid either, but seemed to relish the sound. He used to hang his head out the car window and sing with sirens, too!
It never ceases to amaze me how different dog personalities can be. They have their own unique character and temperament, with their own likes, dislikes, idiosyncrasies and foibles. Part of the joy of having dogs is discovering all of these and loving them for who they are. And, of course, never, ever judging them for who they aren't.
They are all individuals. Just like we are.
Eli breaks my heart: such an imposing, fearsome and majestic being. When in fact, he is a tiny, cuddly Velcro puppy who wants to hide in mama’s lap. Please kiss him for me.
Ah, Eli. If you're not going to use the fireplace again until Fall, you could clean it out and put in a cozy dog bed--but that is me, the worst disciplinarian ever.
Yeah, Nancy. That’s a thoroughly terrible idea! :)
Delightful!