Coming of Age

The day Sheba turned six months old will always stand out in my mind. She had her first esterus show just as I was calling the vet to schedule her for spaying. It must have been a weekend because I was at the school and she was running around the main floor with other dogs. I called out to her and expected her to come to me right away, like she always did. Instead, she stopped, turned to look at me, took a second, and then turned back to the other dogs. That shook me to the core. I felt something shift and come undone; like I had lost a precious link to life. I cried. 

What I did not know then, and what catches many dog owners off-guard, is that all dogs go through this stage between six months to two years. It is at this age that they start to mature sexually, their muscles fill out, and they feel stronger. Mother Nature touches a switch and releases hormones to push them towards adult independence. This makes them feel they can take on the world, and that they must prove they can. So they test themselves against everything - other dogs, people, the environment, and especially those they love and feel dependent on; in Sheba’s case, me. This shows up as a reluctance to pay attention, and a preference to do what they want instead of what you ask them to do. In our practice, we have seen how this progresses to a battle of wills that could involve barking, snapping, and biting. It is also at this age that dogs start to become defensive over space, their food and toys, and favored mates (often the yaya). They become territorial, and resource guarders.

Training using gentle and consistent methods is highly recommended for adolescent dogs and can help to stop behavior problems. I asked Jojo what I should do. He said, “Lean into your training and hers. The only way out is through this. Work harder to claim her attention and keep it.” He assured me this was an important phase in her development. She and I just had to go through it. I am so grateful for his counsel. That is exactly what I did. Eventually, I could again recall her from play, her accuracy improved, her work attitude was always eager and persevering. On walks she kept pace with me and was never more than a foot and a half away. She kept the leash loose and would check in with me so often, I wasn’t always aware of the leash. 

By the age of two she had all of her obedience skills firmly under the belt. She had some tricks too, and she knew how to run an agility course indoors. But she and I had not learned how to play tug together.

                                                                                                            

Dog of My Heart

I hear you about calling our dogs our kids. I agree whole heartedly. Doing that tends to blind us to the special-ness of our animal companions. In Sheba's case though, she really was my daughter; daughter of my mind, my time, and my self. I believe she felt that too, and I believe I helped her become the best version of herself. 

As Animal Communicator, Gouri Keshkar, said, “Yes Elsie 😊 She chose that role for herself. And still she was not codependent. She did not let go of her sense of dignity and independence so it was a different case. ❤️ “ 

                    - Conversation with Gouri Keshkar about her communication with Sheba.

Strong Foundations

Sheba came to live with me and ten other dogs when she was nine weeks old. Thankfully, they bathed her at the shelter before I picked her up and she stayed clean in the car. After the mandatory potty-on-arrival and introductions to the human household, she and I set to work outside on the porch. It was all the simple things - recalls, hand touches, sit, and down. She was such an earnest little pup. Only now, do I realize that her earliest impressions of me and home were very closely connected to learning, doing, staying engaged, and being rewarded.

In a very fundamental sense, she was easy to teach and train because she wanted to. Not only was her food drive off the charts, she truly enjoyed learning, and earning well for her efforts. It gave her a lot of confidence.

And, of course, I was never stingy with the rewards. She had endless cubes of cheddar cheese, boiled pork liver, and bright red tender juicy hotdog, crackling strips of homemake ground chicken and oats treats, and balls of hard baked molasses and peanut butter. I literally became her pin up for food. 

Those early days were our watershed. Our time apart, just for ourselves. I would wake Sheba up at 4:15 in the morning, go downstairs, and let her potty in the garden. We’d then grab the treats prepared the night before and start training. I have no photos or videos to show of those times but I can still see her clearly in my mind - her face looking up at me in the shadows of early morning. It was extremely fulfilling. We learned much about each other and the work. It was in those hours that we built the foundation of everything we were able to accomplish later. 

One weekend when she was about five months old I suddenly became conscious of watching her play with the other dogs, and marveling at how lovely she looked. It dawned on me then that I loved her. That she was like a daughter to me. She had ceased being homework and had become a beloved partner and companion.  

First Night Home

                    

Sheba’s first night home.  May 30, 2009.

Judging by the extraordinary length of time Sheba Braveheart spent gazing soulfully into your eyes, you probably often find her staring at you for no reason. You might wonder if Sheba Braveheart is trying to tell you something, like she is hungry, needs to go to the bathroom or has an opinion on what to do over the weekend. But Sheba Braveheart may not want or need anything - she may be just hugging you with her eyes. - Dognition Report, August 2, 2013.

Coyote's Spiritual Gift

“The spiritual gift of the Coyote is total integration with her life and her environment. She is strong, proud, and regal. She is fiercely proud of her independence and yet at the same time, she is fully integrated with everything around her.”   - Animal Wisdom Oracle Cards Guidebook by Dr. Cara Gubbins. 

Remembering Sheba now, I continue to be struck by how at ease she was in her own skin. She was always self-possessed, strong, regal, and fiercely confident of her place in the world. People would comment that meeting her was like meeting a real person. “I can see a presence in her eyes. There is someone there. She carries herself like a person,” they would say.

I adopted her almost 15 years ago as of this writing. My recollection of that day is admittedly colored by my experience of her life. But I believe it was her self-awareness that drew me to her, that made me choose her over the two littermates.

The backstory to her adoption started when I got a call one night from the shelter manager. A stray that had been picked up was already on the table for spaying when they realized she was pregnant. They wanted some inputs on whether to spay abort the dam, or let her come to term. 

By that time, I had already decided I wanted to embark on the adventure of becoming a dog trainer. Our teacher’s requirement was to create a “demo-dog.” We would work with it to hone our training skills, and bring it to the highest level of training fit for its temperament and physicality. He recommended we get a puppy, a mix, from the shelter. So I asked the shelter manager to let the dam come to term as I and another one or two people would adopt the puppies. The dam and all the puppies were in fact later adopted.

We visited the puppies often, but we made our choices only when they reached seven weeks. Sheba moved around the shelter's activity hall with purpose, like she knew what life was about. When I called to her using wordless clucking sounds, she came around, let me pick her up, and hold her for a while. When I put her down she went straight back to playing with her siblings; like the interlude had no ill effects on her.

This carried through to most of her life. Many things did not faze her. For example, although she did not like swimming or being in the pool, she would not panic if I lowered her into it. Instead, she would swim steadily to the other end and climb out. Thunder, lightning, and rain did not bother her. She must have really wondered about the border collies because they would shut down in storms.

Dogs did not scare her either; she would just stay away or tell them off if they came too close. When she was five months old, she and another five month old puppy had an interesting encounter with a boxer bulldog. The boxer was boarding at the school dorm while the owners were deciding what to do about its very serious aggression issues. Sheba and the other pups were with us in the training hall when they led the boxer in, on leash. As the boxer approached, one of the other pups turned on its back and very clearly peed on its own belly. The boxer sniffed it and moved away. All this while, Sheba remained lounging at my feet. I watched her as the boxer approached. She had gone very still, except that I could see her head move as she tracked the boxer. When he got to within two meters of us I felt on my legs, more than heard, a boom. It was her. The boxer promptly turned and walked away.

When she was a bit older, we joined a nosework class. One of her classmates was Jacob, the beloved malamute of a friend. He was an anxious boy, but with my friend’s training and management he was able to do a lot with her. One afternoon, as we waited for class to start, he decided to move close and check Sheba out. This was very unusual of him, as he usually preferred not to interact with other dogs. Sheba stayed relaxed as he came in, close enough to almost touch her with his nose. Only when he had stayed that way for more than the cursory couple of seconds did she let out a soft woof, the dog equivalent of a gentle “that’s enough.” He pulled back with a quizzical look on his face and moved away.

Years later she and Jacob spent a comfortable morning together at the park, and then later at a nearby restaurant. I tell myself now that Sheba knew Jacob was a gentle soul, if a rather anxious and unsure one, and that she made allowances for that.

Prologue

Prologue

This blog is about my darling Sheba, of whom I am heart achingly proud. She is the dog of my heart, daughter of my mind and time, my teacher, student, and friend. 

Several days after she passed away, Sheba asked me to write about her and our life together. She sent this message through Gouri Keskar, the Animal Communicator who shared that Sheba speaks with my voice, much like a child speaks with the voice of her mother. 

Sheba says she was always happy and proud to be seen around with me, to be doing things together, performing, and succeeding. 

Sheba knows I have a hard time telling stories about myself. So I do this to honor her request to honor myself and her, and our life together.