Mostly Maggie at Doggy Day Care

by Barb Norris

  Scrunching down on the floor and bracing myself against the outside of the crate door, I left just enough opening to get my hand inside to remove their collars. I had done this before with no problems. I got hold of Scally and managed to remove his gear. Suddenly, for whatever dog reason, Scally decided to stop cooperating. He was downright determined to get right back out of that crate. I, of course, was just as determined that he not get right back out of that crate. There was a great deal of pushing and pulling going on between us, but I definitely had the upper hand. Then, Wags decided to help his buddy and throw his weight into the fray. Wags wasn’t a very big dog and didn’t carry all that much weight, but it was enough.

  Somehow or other, the two of them managed to knock the crate door clean off its hinges. I’m talking a heavy, bone-breaking, three foot by six foot barred, metal door here. Boy, was I surprised! Thankfully, it dropped right straight down without falling over on any of us or crushing my toes. We had all miraculously managed to escape maiming or death. My knee and the crate frame were now holding the door upright. I couldn’t let go of it or it was sure to fall on someone. All I could do for the time being was just not move.

  Scally pushed his way past my shoulder, knocking me to a rather awkward sitting position on the floor. I managed to hang on to the door and keep it from falling over. Then Wags took a flying leap over my head and the two of them were running hither and thither. Yon wasn’t available or they would have been running there, too.

  They couldn’t get beyond the main kennel door so they were somewhat contained. In the meantime, Bonnie and Clyde, who had come in earlier, were enjoying the show. Bonnie was sitting at the front of her crate barking now and then. Clyde was zooming around in circles in his crate and was barking like mad. I think the two of them were actually cheering out loud for the two escapees and laughing at me. I’m sure I looked pretty darned silly.

  I changed my hold on the door and hung on to it while I pulled myself upright. I found a safe place to lean it and worked on catching up with Scally and Wags. I tried to quiet the two spectators, but they were going to continue to cheer as long as Scally and Wags were running free. All four dogs were having a good ol’ time. I was frantically trying to regain control, but was laughing too hard.

  Having finished with the door and given up on shushing the two cheerleaders, I came up with an idea. I decided to put the two rowdy ones into the smaller playroom directly adjacent to the kennel area. This took no effort at all.

  All I did was open the door to the playroom and invite them to join me. They zoomed right in. They were expecting to see some of their camp buddies. It was too early, though, and nobody was in the playroom yet. That didn’t bother them because they still had each other. Since it was almost time for co-workers to come in, it didn’t seem wise to attempt crating them again until back-up arrived. Best to leave them in the secure room for the time being.

  When Kate and Chris came in, they noticed the absence of that crate door. I explained what had happened, and they started laughing and told me they wished they had been there for the show. The two of them managed to get the door back on its hinges, still laughing at me.

  I was laughing at me. It finally hit me that I should have just gone inside the crate with the dogs. It would have been a little cozy but it would have been better than trying to work through the open door. With a little help from Kate and Chris we got the two of them back into a crate. I followed them inside and had no trouble exchanging those collars.

  This dynamic duo was one happy handful. They were both in exceptionally fine fettle that day. I could hardly wait for regular playtime to begin.

  It is quite impossible to be calm and assertive when you’re laughing.

  ~ Who Let the Dogs Out? ~

  Another day had dawned, and I was ready for the action. A quiet day ahead? It was a possibility. We only had four dogs scheduled. Of course, that didn’t really mean anything. It wasn’t unusual for unscheduled dogs to show up.

  In came Snowball. She was the only dog who didn’t get the “Hey, where is everybody?" look on her face when she was the first dog in. She glanced around, saw an empty room, shrugged her big white shoulders, got her good morning ear-scratch, and stretched out in her favorite spot to wait patiently for her camp buddies. She didn’t have to wait long.

  In came Sassy. She dashed over to Snowball and climbed right up on top of her to get her moving. Snowball cooperated and got to her feet. Sassy had rounded up a ball, with which she tantalized Snowball and the two were off and running. That only lasted until there was a pit stop.

  “Geez, Sassy, already? Okay, I’ll get the mop.”

  Here came George. He was a Sharpei who was a bit of a touch-me-not. He would tolerate a little petting, but really didn’t like any fuss made over him. George, aka Rammer, had a plan that would get him into the Just Try to Take My Ball game. His plan was quite simple. He ran up close to whichever dog had the ball at the moment, Sassy this time. He turned slightly away from her, threw a stocky but impressive shoulder slightly forward, sidled back toward her, and suddenly rammed her. Sometimes this dislodged the ball from the dog in possession. Sometimes it didn’t. It didn’t seem to matter who actually had possession of the ball, they all just kept at it.

  Sheba entered the room. She was a white Collie who loved people attention. She zipped around greeting everybody, and paid special attention to Snowball, who was taking her first rest of the day. The two of them were great friends. Sheba ran around Snowball, but couldn’t convince her to get to her feet. She gave up on Snowball. Well, there was more than one dog in this playroom. She turned her back on her buddy and trotted away in a huff.

  Her huff didn’t last long at all. She noticed Sassy was getting some petting, and Sheba certainly couldn’t be left out. She came over to Sassy and me, and tried to wriggle her way between us. The Sesame Street episode on In Between was obviously Sheba’s favorite. She tried this quite often especially whenever any other dog was getting attention from any counselor. Usually the first dog just headed off to some other activity. Sheba sometimes tried to get in the middle of any two dogs playing together. That never worked. She was either completely ignored or was forced to play with more than one dog at a time.

  Once convinced she couldn’t control the situation, be it with people or dogs, she just cheerfully dealt with it. Sassy dashed off to seek fun elsewhere. Sheba smushed herself against as many of my body parts as she could reach and was happily wallowing in the individual attention. When Chris, my counselor partner that day, came in Sheba had to race over to get attention from her. She didn’t want to miss anybody.

  Diablo, a German Shepherd mix, came in a little later. He was a happy dog, always ready to play. Not only was Diablo a welcome sight in camp, we counselors were also happy to see Diablo’s mom come in. Several times, she showed up not only with Diablo but also with home-made cookies for us. These were greatly appreciated by the staff. Since Diablo usually checked in during the morning session, I was never quite sure if any of his mom’s cookies made it to the afternoon shift. Probably not. Shame on us.

  Diablo wasted no time. He was immediately running over everybody, including Chris and me, and swiping whatever ball he could from whoever had one. This rarely caused any friction, which is good because Diablo, once he got hold of a toy, refused to give it up voluntarily. He’d much rather somebody try to pull it away.

  He loved to play Just Try to Take My Ball, but his idea of the game was to push the ball into your thigh, daring you to try and take it from him , which, of course, we never did. We all knew how Diablo was with a ball. You simply did not want your fingers anywhere close to his teeth. He was never aggressive with counselors or other dogs. It was just how he played. He never tried to bite, but he did adjust his grip on the ball and a very quick adjustment it was. I saw him coming, the ball in his teeth and aimed at my thigh. I tried to move my hand out of harm‘s way before he reached me, but not quite fast enough. Diablo hit me, adjusting his grip on
the ball at the same time.

  “Ouch! Boy-howdy, Diablo. You got me a good one.”

  Diablo’s grip adjustment included a chomp on my finger. This did some real damage and I had a perfect tooth hole at the base of a fingernail. It hurt like the dickens and it was bleeding rather a lot, as fingers tend to do. I left Chris in the playroom while I headed out to do a little first aid. This was painful but purely accidental. It was a case of a dog behaving like a dog, and had absolutely nothing aggressive about it. I just needed to be quicker. Or not play ball with Diablo. Na-a-a-h. I just needed to be quicker.

  I got sterilized and bandaged and went back into the playroom. Oh, Yippee. Just in time.

  “Excuse me, dogs. Make room for the mop lady. Thank you very much. Anyone else want to add to the puddle while I have the mop handy?”

  In came Scally, the Husky, and Wags, the Basenji mix. While Scally paid his respects to the others, Wags followed along, barking his way around the room. Scally brought a ball over for me to throw, which I did. Diablo dropped the ball he already had and raced Scally to see who could get the new ball first. Wags ran after them both, barking all the while. Wags spent almost all most of his camp time barking. Here I had thought this might be a quiet day.

  “Look, everybody, Lady’s here.”

  Lady was a German Shorthair mix who was a very lovey dog. She loved people attention and got along well with everybody in the dog world. She never initiated play, but she did run around with everybody, and gladly joined in on most any game in progress. She almost always minded her manners. The exception to her lady-like behavior was that she also just happened to be a pickpocket. If there was the tiniest bit of anything sticking out of a pocket—a tissue, a pen, your keys—Lady would help herself to it. She was so gentle you didn’t even know what had happened. Fagin would have loved her.

  When she was ready to be petted, which was often, she would approach the nearest counselor and place her head under the counselor’s hand and push it up. Really subtle hint. After her first pet of the day, Lady decided to get into the ball game and off she went.

  As Chris left the room for her morning break, Rambo arrived. He was pretty friendly for him. He actually came over to greet me. He greeted Lady and Snowball. He ran with Diablo for just a few minutes. He checked in with George and got barked at by Wags and Sheba. He zoomed around with Sassy and Scally for a minute. Boy, he must have had a big bowl of happy cereal that morning. Then he plodded his way over to the front doors and stretched out. After all this rare activity, he must have been tired. Oh, yes, he had definitely worn himself out and wasn’t even working on his normal excavating project.

  Uh-oh. A major accident at the far end of the room. This would require the mop, the scooper, and the whole mop bucket. I collected all the necessary equipment from the corner and headed down the room.

  As I finished up, I turned around and got a major surprise. My nine dogs seem to have dwindled down to only four. George was still in the room, looking a little confused. Snowball was in her corner, resting yet again. Lady and Sheba were looking at the kitchen door.

  Hey! That door was open. What the heck? Somebody had opened that door, and I knew darned well it hadn’t been me. Maybe I hadn’t left that door open when we found the dogs in the kitchen.

  I went into the kitchen and there were Scally, Wags, Sassy, Rambo, and Diablo, all very curious about the food, treats, and extra toys stored in there. They were reveling in their adventure in freedom. I collected my truants and hustled them back into the playroom. They didn’t argue at all, but I could almost hear them chuckling about their adventure. I was left with a mystery that needed solving. We obviously had a door-opener in the group, but who? No one ’fessed up.

  The dogs all went back to doing regular dog stuff. Snowball was still in her corner. Sassy was curled up on a bridge step. Diablo, Scally, and Wags were ripping around the room after each other. George was getting himself into position to do his shoulder slam into Scally. Rambo was now busy trying to excavate the floor at the front doors. Lady was honoring me by placing her head under my hand again. Sheba, not wanting to be ignored, trotted over and tried to wedge herself between us. We convinced her she really could get petted at the same time as another dog, even if she didn’t manage to get herself in the middle. Sheba settled for that.

  Chris came back and I told her about the escape attempt. We were both keeping a watchful eye on the door, hoping to catch the door-opening critter. Not a single one of them went anywhere close to that door the rest of the morning.

  The pre-lunch vigil started and all the dogs were paying very close attention to the kitchen. The dogs were taken, one at a time, out of the playroom and through the elimination station. We always hoped the dogs would make use of this room for its intended purpose. Then they were taken back to their crates. Scally and Wags, almost always rowdy, actually cooperated and headed back to the crate area with no fuss. Snowball was already in the appropriate crate. Diablo wagged his way back to his crate. Sassy and Sheba went in theirs, as did George. Lady voluntarily entered her crate.

  It was Rambo’s turn. This time he was a little more cooperative. He didn’t plant his immovable self, requiring someone to lift him into the crate. He might have been a little easier to move this time, but he still wouldn’t go in voluntarily. None of us had been happy with the wheelbarrow method we used last time so we needed to try something else.

  The large crates ran about four feet by six feet and floor to ceiling. This was good for big dogs. It was also good for counselors since one could stand upright inside. Memories of the Scally/Wags door-breaking incident prompted me to get into Rambo’s crate myself.

  I got to the very back of the crate and gently tugged on his lead, sweet-talking him all the while. He eventually succumbed to my charms or maybe he just wanted to be rid of me and stepped in. The next trick was for me to step over and around him, shortening the lead as he got further inside the crate. I maneuvered my way toward the door.

  Okay. Rambo was finally inside his crate. I was finally outside of his crate and all of my body parts were still intact. This was good.

  So far, none of the dogs had admitted opening that playroom door. Nobody snitched on anybody else. It was a furry wall of silence. Just who was it that had opened that door?

  Hm-m-m-m-m….

  ~ A Snowball Meltdown ~

  One day it looked like it really would be a fairly quiet day. I had a ten o’clock start time and, when I arrived, I gave Snowball a pat on her head. Her mom, a fellow counselor, had dropped her off before school that day and would not be working until later in the afternoon. Sassy, Sheba, and George came in and by ten-thirty it looked like every dog that would be in camp was already there.

  Kate joined us in the playroom. She dearly loved all the dogs, and all the dogs loved her right back. After greeting the three active dogs, Kate went over to the corner to say hello to Snowball, already sprawled out in rest mode. Kate stretched out on the floor, head to head with Snowball, and took the dog’s face in her hands.

  “Snowball, are you in there?” Snowball lifted one eye-lid, moved her head just a tad and went back to dreaming her doggy dreams. After forty winks, she was off and running around again. Kate was also off and running again, attending to one of her never-ending duties.

  George, the Sharpei, dropped in. George was friendly enough, but not one to seek attention. However, this day, he came right over to say hello. This was really unusual. He normally didn’t want much to do with any of the counselors, but here he was actually giving me a friendly greeting and wanting some petting. I was impressed. I mentioned this to Chris, the other counselor on duty. She responded, but I didn’t really hear what she told me. I was just happy to have George enjoying my attention for a change.

  After about half an hour, when Chris heard me call George by name, she repeated what she’d told me earlier. “Barb, that isn’t George. This is a new dog named Buddy.”

  Oh. That explained the friendliness. I hadn
’t met Buddy before. I wondered how long it would take to tell the two apart just by looking at them, if they were in the room together. I was sure there would be some subtle differences in looks, but they were never at camp at the same time so I never found out. I knew I’d be able to distinguish them by personality, though.

  Oh-oh, here came Spike, a very active Weimaraner. Spike absolutely loved to tear around the room with other dogs or all by himself. He was never still. He would deign to let you pet him once in a while, but he usually didn’t have the time for such frivolities. Spike was definitely a mover and a shaker in the dog world.

  Sassy and Sheba were busy climbing all over each other. Buddy went over to invite Spike to a game of Run Rampant and Bark. Spike got into the game with gusto. He was zooming all over the room, barking about every six feet or so. Buddy was trying his darnedest to keep up and barking about every ten feet or so. Snowball was restless. She didn’t want to play, and she wasn’t lying down. It wasn’t likely that the barking would upset her. That was common in camp. Well, this was odd.

  There were workmen up on the roof directly overhead. This might account for Snowball’s nervous behavior. They were making a lot of noise, and Snowball apparently didn’t like it. She got on top of the bridge, an extremely rare thing for her to do. The noise increased, and Snowball became more and more agitated. She got off the bridge, but got right back up again. She was really whining and literally shaking now. Snowball was the most laid-back dog I’d ever seen. Nothing bothered her. This behavior came as a complete surprise.

  I went over to the bridge to calm her down. I talked to her and hugged her, but it simply wasn’t working. Chris tried to calm her too and had no success either. Poor Snowball. She was rapidly coming unglued. Her favorite person in the world was not in the building. We had to think of some way to help her. Putting her in a crate wouldn’t work since she would then be both isolated and confined, with the noise level just as high in there. Chris and I were fresh out of ideas. I got on the walkie-talkie and paged Kate who came back to see what the problem was. We knew she’d come up with a solution.