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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Tag Archives: pets

Travels with Sadie-7: Tolerance

05 Sunday Jan 2025

Posted by petersironwood in nature, pets, Sadie

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

Democracy, dogs, life, love, pets, politics, tolerance, truth, USA

Today: A beautiful day in San Diego. Yes, it’s true. There are many such—even in January.



Our first discovery was a hawk which I heard the moment we stepped out the door. I tried to mimic the sound and told Sadie it was a hawk. We walked to the end of our street where the hawk was perched on the lamp post. Sadie looked up at it as I greeted the hawk. So far as I can recall, she’s never barked at one. 

Even before we reached the hawk, Sadie made another discovery. I have no idea what it was but I know from her level of excitement that it was a *huge* discovery. Rather than drag her along to some predetermined goal of my own, I indulge her explorations even when I can’t tell what it is that she’s so enthralled with. 

For her part, she tolerates me stopping to take pictures. I don’t think she understands why I do it. For that matter, I’m not sure I fully understand why I do it. But I enjoy it. I like sharing them. 

At one of the many “choice point” corners, the sun was just beginning to rise enough to light up the bougainvillea bush. It’s quite prevalent in the San Diego area so I assume it tolerates the climate quite well. 

Next we saw the sun rising. Contrails are also visible. Contrails are mostly composed of the potentially lethal substance: “Hydrogen Hydroxide” aka HOH or, more commonly H2O; i.e., water. Yes, you can drown. OTOH, you are more H2O than anything else and you can’t live without it. We tolerate the presence of water and even encourage it even though approximately ten people a day drown in America. 

The pineapple palm shown below has its flowers lit by the early morning sun which tends to exaggerate their orange color. Palm trees flourish in California and Florida. But apparently, it isn’t so much that the relish the sun and the heat as that they don’t tolerate freezing temperatures very well. I saw some, for instance, in Limerick, Ireland, not known for a balmy climate. 

I next spied these sunlit Christmas decorations. Of course, I could tell they were Christmas decorations and not Kwanza or Hanukkah decorations because, as everyone knows, the wise men found their way to Bethlehem on Reindeer. Or camels. Whatever. Jesus is often portrayed as blond and blue-eyed, so… Anyway, speaking of tolerance, some folks believe all Christmas decorations should be removed no later than January 1. 

Why? 

Are they confused? Do they look at these reindeer and think, Oh, my God! I thought we just had Christmas, but no! Here it is again already! I’ve got to buy more presents! Or…? It bothers me not the slightest if people want to keep their decorations up all year, be they Christmas, Easter, Halloween, or whatever. After all, some extremely wealthy people celebrate “Wealth Day” 365 days a year with their displays so why not? 

As we continued our walk, the golden sun lit up Sadie’s fur so I snapped the picture below. 

And then we came to the golf course. This is the tenth green. If you want to play golf, you will need to become tolerant of your own errors. 

So, as we began the long climb back up the street to our home, I began to wonder why tolerance seems so difficult for so many people. Intolerance of other races. Intolerance of other religions. Intolerance of other cuisines, clothing styles, color schemes, music, book genres, traffic merges, waiting in line, sexual preferences, and so much more.  

On the one hand, I don’t want to “be” anyone else or any other organism. I admire the hawk but I don’t want to be a hawk. I’m happy being a human. I admire many of Sadie’s abilities. But I don’t want to be a dog. There are many choices that other humans make which are different from the choices I make. 

So? 

———————————

Author Page on Amazon

Tales from an American Childhood

Dance of Billions

Imagine all the People 

Drawing the Line

Walkabout Diaries 

Use Diversity as a Resource: A Pattern for Collaboration

Travels with Sadie 5 — 2025 is Here

01 Wednesday Jan 2025

Posted by petersironwood in America, nature, pets

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

books, Democracy, dogs, fiction, fog, life, nature, pets, poetry, politics, truth, USA, writing

Happy New Year! 

I hope. 

Anyway, I welcome you to the New Year. Why not?



Fog. 

Our morning walk began, appropriately enough, in heavy fog. No sun. Cold. Damp. A slight but persistent icy wind. 

How appropriate, I thought. No sign of a sunrise. Not near here. 

Sadie, however, seemed oblivious to the fog, the damp, the cold, the politics. Before our walk began, I told her we’d try walking without the shoulder harness but she’d have to do “Good Walking” with no Pulling. She’s strong and pulling hurts my back and knees but especially my ankles and arches. The harness helps prevent her from pulling, but doesn’t really eliminate it. 

She did good walking. 

And I noticed that, up close, she is still as beautiful as ever. No gold or red from the rising sun, but still beautiful. 

Indeed, the fog shrouds what is distant, but up close? Bright signs of beauty still beckon. If we bother to look. 

Looking more distantly–ominous, if not downright evil.

Even so, the lonely mourning dove coos on her thin wire perch.

Soon, the sun does begin to shine. Darkness, like cancer and greed, always eventually loses. 

We cast a long shadow. 

The bees still buzz their magic.

I look for patterns and they are there. 

I look for color and it is there. 

Thank you Sadie. 

—————-

Author page on Amazon

The Winning Weekend Warrior

Tales from an American Childhood

Fit in Bits

Turing’s Nightmares

Life is a Dance

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

Dance of Billions

Come to the Light Side

The First Ring of Empathy

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Tools for Thinking

The Story of Story

Travels with Sadie 2 — Recovering the Special Ball

25 Thursday Jul 2024

Posted by petersironwood in pets, Sadie

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

ball, determination, dog, grit, pets, play, pool, story

Sadie, for those not already in the know, is half Golden Retriever and half Poodle—a “Golden Doodle.” She resembles a Golden Retriever much more than she resembles a Poodle. And, she takes the name “Retriever” seriously. Ever since she was a puppy, we’ve played ball.

We began these games with tennis balls. Our dog trainer, at one point, brought out a “Squeaky Ball” which resembles a tennis ball and bounces like one (slightly less bouncy) but has the additional feature that if you squeeze it, it makes a squeak. From that moment on, Sadie has preferred squeaky balls. I’ve tried some other types of safe balls. She has enjoyed the soccer ball a little but has totally eschewed the pickle ball. 

One of the many games we play with tennis balls is for me to go to one end of the driveway and hit squeaky balls with a tennis racquet. Sometimes she catches them on one bounce and sometimes she chases them along the ground. Once in while, she runs forward to catch the ball on the fly. I keep meaning to ask my dentists and/or my vet about this. 

An associated game is “grab and go.” Sadie will trot over to me and drop one of her squeaky balls right below her mouth. I use a grabber to try to snatch the ball off the ground before she can. I generally lose this game. I’ve tried many ways to distract her and a few of them worked initially. But now, she’s too savvy. Even novel ways to distract her don’t work. On some occasions, I do manage to snatch it away quickly enough. I’d estimate that happens about ten percent of the time. More often, before I manage to grab it, she gets bored and nudges the ball forward toward me with her nose to signal that I can now grab it without a struggle. 

To understand the next part, you’ll need to know that our garden features two very large Italian stone pine trees. I love them. However, they do tear up the driveway and yard to an extent. In a few places large roots surface and then form tiny “caves” beneath the roots. Sadie scooted the ball into one of these caves and then, in the process of retrieving it, pushed it in even further. I could not get to it. I put an iron chair over the spot so Sadie wouldn’t tear up everything living within ten feet. I told her it was lost and there was no way to get it back. She “accepted this” or at least she stopped trying. We soon went in for dinner and did not revisit the back garden and pool until the next day, in the early afternoon. 

We were beginning to play alternating sets of “games around the pool” with games that take place in the garden. Sometimes, as happened this afternoon, Sadie likes to begin the pool games by lounging in the sun (until she’s so hot, she knows it will feel even more delicious when she hits the cool water? IDK.) Since she wasn’t yet ready to play ball, I went down in the garden to retrieve some more balls for pool play. Once I got down there, with Sadie so far away, I took another crack at trying to get her “Special Ball” out from under the roots. (It’s much easier to try to get it out without Sadie trying to “help.”)

This shows Sadie lounging but *with* her “special ball.” It was taken a few weeks ago.

 

I tried several different methods to no avail. Suddenly, I heard a thundering sound. It was Sadie sprinting and springing to my position and she instantly set to the task of retrieving her special ball. She stuffed her snout in so far I was sure she couldn’t breathe. And, even if nose touched the ball, there would not be enough room for her to open her jaws on the ball. 

She got the ball out. We celebrated for a time by centering our games around her recently recovered Special Ball. For example, I throw three or four balls into the pool and Sadie grabs the nearest one but then, while treading water, trades the nearest one for her “Special Ball.” In a garden variety game, on the other hand, she might lead me down the garden path, while holding her “Special Ball” in her mouth. At some point, she will inconspicuously drop the ball and it’s up to me to find it. Then, she lags back in the lower part of the garden while I ascend to the Stone Patio and throw the ball. This allows her to come crashing through the garden at full speed catching the escaping “Special Ball” from behind.

What I can see of Sadie as I write this. She lies on my feet (so that?); she knows the instant I get up to do something which she recognizes as an opportunity to interrupt my behavioral flow with her requests.

————-

Sadie and the lighty ball

Sadie the sifter

Sadie is a thief

Sadie and the Squeaky Ball

Dog Years

A Suddenly Springing Something

A Cat’s a Cat

Author Page on Amazon

Travels with Sadie 1: Lamppost, Sign Pole, and Fire Hydrant.

23 Tuesday Jul 2024

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Democracy, dogs, life, pets, politics, truth

Did you ever read “Travels with Charley” by Steinbeck? “Charley” is the name of Steinbeck’s dog who travels with him on a car trip across America, or at least the first 48 states thereof. My wife and I—and our dog Sadie— recently met up with my cousin-in-law (is that a word? I guess it is now). Cousin-in-law Timm loves dogs too and suggested I should do a similar journal called “Travels with Sadie” and this is, indeed, the first chapter of “Travels with Charley.” 

I chose this topic while reflecting, as I often do, on what the world is like for Sadie and her kin. Sadie, like most, is thrilled to meet other dogs. If she can’t meet them in person, the next best thing is to sniff the spots where they peed. Although she hasn’t yet reached estrous, in the last few months, she’s been behaving differently with respect to the pee residue of female dogs on the ground and male dogs, which are on bushes, trees, lampposts, sign poles, and fire hydrants.   

It seems that the males inordinately prefer lampposts, sign poles, and fire hydrants over trees. That, to me, at first seemed curious. After all, trees have been in the picture for dogs and their ancestors for millions of years. These manufactured artifacts are brand new. 

Here’s my hypothesis. In the long-ago days of dogs, some dogs took it upon themselves to signal their presence by peeing on manufactured posts while others preferred trees. A post has fewer distractions—visual, aural, and most importantly, the olfactory sense. Thus, the post-preferring peers had a more impressive social presence resulting in more mating and more envy—higher ranking in the pack. Over time, the post-preferring peers proliferated and prospered. 

Over time, and perhaps even initially, the individual dog itself could “learn” that it had left a more salient and more lasting impression. How? Because they go back to the spot they themselves peed in, often repeatedly. Thus, they would learn that make a splash in the dog world, you’re better off with a human artifact. The fact that it smells like a human when it is first put into place may well “seed” the site as a place to exchange messages—perhaps a kind of canine Facebook—only not really the face. 

It also turns out that lampposts, sign poles, and fire hydrants signify three essential functions of a society. Lampposts are to shine light on reality. Medical research, science research, education, public service announcements, and books. To some extent, our laws are also a kind of lamppost. “Look people, we’ve learned the hard way, that it’s not good to steal. Don’t do it.”

Well, if that’s not clear enough, fine, we’ll write 100,000 pages of clarification. 

Sign posts include, to me, norms and customs, as well as directions of various sorts. There’s often a tension between lampposts and sign poles. The sign poles take work to design, manufacture, transport, and erect. That stop sign down the street didn’t just fall off the coconut tree. Similarly, customs, for instance, separating the work of men and women so that all nurses were women and all men were doctors, take work to implement and to enforce. People will not always stop at a stop sign and especially if they are never ticketed. Similarly, there will be individual women who desire to become a doctor and men who want to be nurses. There will always be tension in such customs between the norm and the individual desires. 

Photo by Midory Pho on Pexels.com

Imagine after a lot of work has gone into putting up the stop sign, the lamppost function of government sponsors a study that shows it would be much better to put in a traffic circle (roundabout) rather than the four stop signs. More traffic gets through faster and there are fewer accidents. You can easily imagine some resistance. The people who profit from making the stop signs, for instance, and the police officers who ticket those who only come to a “rolling stop.” The drivers may also object. Many of them aren’t used to traffic circles. Some initial awkwardness is predictable. 

To me, the fire hydrant represents the protective aspects of government. There are many! There are agencies, like the FDA, that ensure the cleanliness of our food and water. (Believe it or not, there are some providers who are so greedy, that they would actually sell you tainted food or drink if it would make them richer.) There are the Armed Forces, the Fire Departments, the Police Forces. In a way, Social Security and Medicare also fall into this region. It is a protective function of government. 

Sadie, meanwhile, is sacked out on the couch across from me. She’s had an active day; two long walks, zoomies, swimming, and ball playing. Our dog, like many, is very loving. She’s wary of anything new. But soon, she’ll be head over heels in love with another person.

The very greedy people who would have you kowtow to them while they steal the fruits of your labor love to use the rationalization that it’s a “Dog eat dog world out there.” It isn’t actually. Neither humans (for the most part) nor dogs (for the most part) are out there eating others of their own species. We are both pack animals. We both love and protect our families. Is there competition? Sure. But it’s all done in the scope of a cooperative society.

The natural tension between conservatives and liberals has a lot to do with how quickly one wants to see lamppost findings supplant existing psychic and physical infrastructure. And it is a very legitimate debate to have. Most do not want the extreme that every new finding in, say, medical research should instantaneously turn traditions and practices on their heads. Also, most do not want to ignore all new science and discovery and keep everything static forever. 

Photo by Stephen Andrews on Pexels.com

What is not a legitimate debate is for one side, like a spoiled toddler, to insist that if they don’t get their way, they’ll burn our civilization to the ground. Sadie wouldn’t do that. Nor would I. Nor would most Americans. 

Dick-taters

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Essays on America: The Game

The Ailing King of Agitate

The only them that counts is all of us

Dance of Billions 

Author Page on Amazon

Thrice Burned (trigger warning for abuse)

10 Wednesday Apr 2024

Posted by petersironwood in fiction, pets, psychology

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

dogs, fiction, life, microfiction, parenting, pets, story

(I decided to experiment with some 100 word micro-fiction).

Photo by Torben Bu00fchl on Pexels.com

“Once burned,” they say. Dad burned my brother Alan thrice. 

“Third time’s a charm” they say. Mom took Alan to the hospital. 

Too late. 

Dad skipped town. Mom went to prison for child abuse. 

News flash: Reformatories sometimes work; mine certainly reformed me. I learned to act out my fears and self-loathing by being cruel to wimpy kids. 

Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com

“No use crying over spilt milk,” they say. 

Even if the shattered glass impales your eye. Or both eyes. 

Photo by omar william david williams on Pexels.com

I saw well enough to grab a lethal vein-slitting shard. Damned dog Rocky barked to be fed. 

Damned dog Rocky saved my life.


The Game

The Orange Man

Stoned Soup

Dick-Taters

Alito and the Egg

The Ailing King of Agitate

Absolute is Not Just a Vodka

Life is a Dance

Join the Dance

Dance of Billions

Sadie is a Thief

Author Page on Amazon

About Writing

10 Sunday Dec 2023

Posted by petersironwood in creativity, fiction, pets, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

creativity, dog, fiction, novel, pets, writing

Hello!

I am alive and well. I haven’t blogged for a while. Here’s why: I’ve been taking a year-long course on novel writing. Yesterday, I sent off my book to the instructor for feedback. To me, writing a full-length novel has been more difficult than writing a Ph.D. dissertation. Writing non-fiction requires research, discipline, organization, and being willing to work hard.

Writing a novel requires all of those but it also requires keeping track of the implications of many little decisions. It is not only a cognitive strain but often an emotional one as well. It’s a never-ending series of choices. Science is often, but not always, a series of choices where there is an agreed upon better answer. Even when there isn’t agreement, there are a much smaller number of choices.

To me, writing non-fiction is like taking a long trip on existing roads. You may certainly face unanticipated difficulties such as construction zones, flat tires and bad weather.

Writing fiction is more like bushwhacking. No-one has ever trod (or will ever trod) your exact path. You may learn something by discovering or following the paths of previous writers. You might, for instance, discover that some writers go over logs that lie across their intended path. Others, may crawl under. Still others might go around the fallen log. Others might choose to back-track until another path is found. What should you do?

It depends.

And, that’s the nature of fiction. It all depends. It depends on what else happens in the book. How you choose to construct and describe one character depends on the others. Even what you name them depends on the other names. What happens in character development interacts with the plot. The plot interacts with the landscape and the mood. The mood depends on the tempo. The tempo, if it’s dialog must be consistent with the character who’s doing the talking.

Our dog Sadie and I have been co-creating and co-evolving games from the days she first came to live with us. Currently, we are playing a variant of “fetch.” Here’s how it works. One of us (most often Sadie) finds a squeaky ball. At some point, I get a squeaky ball from somewhere in the garden and say, “Get up on the deck! I’m going to throw the ball on the deck.”



Now matter where she is when she hears that, she sprints to the deck and awaits my throw. She sprints with spirit! I love to watch her run, not only for her grace and speed but even more so, for the whole-heartedness with which she runs every single time. I throw the ball up and she catches it in the air more than half the time. Even when she misses, she’ll scramble after it and proudly perch on the spot on the deck where I can see that she’s caught the ball. After elaborate and genuine praise, she sprints down the stairs to the lawn near me. Then, she will lie down with the squeaky ball in her mouth. After a time, she’ll move the ball away from her some distance. I walk over casually, as though I am not trying to “steal” the ball from her. When I get close to the ball, she quickly re-grabs it. After she’s had a few “successes” she will start hanging out farther and farther away from the ball. At some point, I’ll grab the ball and announce, “I’ve got it!” At that point, she again sprints up the stairs to go the deck where I will throw the ball up to her.

The part of this scenario that I think is most like writing the fiction is the part where Sadie is judging how far away the ball should be from her buzz-fast jaws. If it’s too close, I won’t even try for it. If it’s too far away, I’ll immediately grab the ball. Similarly, as an author, I want to keep the reader interested. If my writing is too predictable, it might be clear, but it will be uninspiring and dull. The reader will quit before they get to the end of the story. On the other hand, if I write too far from the reader’s expectations, they will quit because they cannot grab the threads of the narrative.

To me, the benefits of co-creating with Sadie (rather than “training her” to play the game in a particular and predetermined way) include that I can learn a lot by observing her. Another benefit is that it keeps both of our minds more flexible and more engaged (just as does good literature). Of course, there are two of us in this exercise and that is also true in the reading of fiction. Every author, including me, will make miscalculations about how far to stray from expectations. But whether you can follow across those miscalculations is not only a measure of my skill as a writer but is also a measure of your skill as a reader.

In the past, I’ve self-published my books on Amazon. These are mostly non-fiction, but one of them is a collection of fictional short stories. This time, I think I will try traditional agent/publishing. I am also thinking of putting together several more books, using the blog posts here as the seeds.

After a year long writing course, the single most important piece of advice I can give is:

“Get a dog.”



Don’t get me wrong. We have six cats and we love them dearly. The cats are smart, and I can certainly empathize with the cats. But their ability to empathize with me is either very limited or, as I suspect is more likely, they really don’t give a damn. On the other hand, Sadie is a pleasure to co-create with because she intuitively “gets” cooperation and collaboration. We accommodate each other and neither of us has any idea how the game will evolve.

By the way, I would feel I would be remiss not to share my secret of Holiday Gift shopping. There are literally millions of possible gifts! It makes choosing nearly impossible. Instead of putting yourself through that agony, simply go to my author page on Amazon and choose which book is most appropriate for which gift recipient. It’s fast, it’s easy, and you’ll have the thanks of at least on person which cannot be said for any other gift idea. And, in many cases, you’ll have two grateful people.

Author page on Amazon

Autobiography and Essays

Scenarios about AI

How to work more fun and exercise into daily chores

Sports Psychology

Sadie & the “Lighty Ball”

27 Saturday May 2023

Posted by petersironwood in family, pets, story

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

dogs, life, pets, story

Sadie and I have been playing various games indoors with tennis balls since we were fortunate enough to have her adopt us. Anyway, my philosophy is not to “teach her” games that I make up in my head but to have as close to a truly collaborative process as possible. 

Don’t get me wrong. It is fun to train a dog or any other animal. In some cases, it’s life saving; in others, it’s just a major convenience to train them. I’m not against it. And, we certainly continue to try to train her.


But when it comes to playing games, why not enter into a partnership of equals in collaborative invention. I try to be sensitive to her hints about what comes next. And she tries to be sensitive to mine. We’ve come to develop certain conventions around the playing of games. For example, if the ball rolls somewhere inconvenient, I let her try to retrieve it. She objects if I try to retrieve it first. That’s her job. But if she can’t reach it, it’s fine for me to reach it, first with my foot, or if necessary by getting “a tool” as I explain it to her. This is generally a crutch or a back-scratcher. 

It turns out that Sadie has a pretty clear preference about the type of ball to play with. The clear winner is the tennis ball. They are all better than any of five other types of ball. The biggest loser ball was the pickle ball which Sadie completely ignores and beneath even the dignity of an eye roll. Anyway, one that she sometimes interacts with is what she named—or possibly, it was me—“The Lighty Ball” because it lights up when it bangs into anything hard enough or anything bangs into it. Generally, I realize that when I kick or throw a “mixed bag” of balls, she pretty much ignores all but the tennis balls. 

So, tonight, I was playing with five tennis balls and the lighty ball. She was ignoring the lighty ball but I was kind of ignoring the fact that she was ignoring the lighty ball. I kept re-introducing it into the mix. She kept ignoring it. Fine. This is what it means to have a partnership. Sometimes. 

She just wasn’t getting her message across. And, I’m not blaming her. Not at all. But how else can she get her message across? 

To understand what she did, we need to take a short detour to the “holding pen.” As you read about someone in the their 70’s playing tennis ball games in the hallways, it might have occurred to you that this is asking for a broken whatchamacallit. But I take the view that “constant vigilance” should be practiced to minimize your overall chances of falling catastrophically or, in this case, dogistropically. Anyway, I do some things to minimize the risk. One is to shuttle the balls into a space between the wall and the bookcase. No-one will trip on them there. I call it the “holding pen.”

So tonight, I was playing this mixed ball game with her and I had to go feed the cats and then I came right back. Guess what? Sadie had put “The Lighty Ball” into the holding pen. 

I think the moral of the story is, if a dog is smart enough to find more than one way to communicate, why should so many humans stick to one? 

Sadie is a thief

Sadie the Sifter

Dog Trainers

Play Ball The Squeaky Ball

Hi-Dog-Ku

Sadie

Dog Trainers

15 Saturday Apr 2023

Posted by petersironwood in pets, poetry, psychology

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

dogs, education, learning, pets, poem, poetry, teaching

I thought I’d try to teach my dog to count

Instead, she tried to teach me not to count.

I  thought I’d teach my dog to think ahead.

She taught me not to think ahead, instead.

I tried to show avoiding mud is cool.

She schooled me on the joys of dripping drool. 

She’ll gobble down her own food  greedily. 

But also pepper, kale readily.

Her nose of course is quite beyond compare. 

Yet, she’s taught me some skill in sniffing air.

The barbecue of neighbors far away

That drifts into my zone is quite okay.

It seems to me important as we teach

To recognize that every species—each

Survived four billion years of trying time

Preferring human ways is not a crime.

For much of which we learned we should feel pride;

Recall we aren’t the only ones who ride

This wild spiral through our galaxy.

And when it comes to pure ecstasy?

Our doggie teachers show us how to play;

To dwell with happy every single day; 

To love with love that’s larger than our life.

They teach us how to fly above the strife.

For who can tell the teacher from the taught?

And who can count those moments quite unsought

When doggies reconnect our brains to hearts

It is the finest of the teaching arts. 

Sadie is a Thief

Sadie the Sifter

Doggerel

Natural Language for Doggies

The Puppy’s Snapping Jaws

Hai-Ku-Dog-Ku

Natural Language for Doggies

12 Sunday Mar 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

dogs, life, pets, politics, truth, USA

We recently acquired a dog. Sadie. Brilliant and willful. Half poodle. Half golden retriever. She’s an amazing ball player. And not just in terms of her physical prowess. She naturally exhibits most of the advice in The Winning Weekend Warrior. She doesn’t worry. She doesn’t berate herself for past performance. She is confident she can catch any ball, and if she misses on the first bounce, she goes after the second bounce as though, not only her life—but the life of the entire pack—depended on it. And if she misses it on the second bounce and accidentally nuzzles fifty feet away, she still goes after the ball! 

Before I wrote this essay, Sadie stood before me, staring those sad eyes into mine begging for another hour of ball-playing but I explained I wanted to write on the computer for awhile so she got up on the bed where she’s quietly chewing on a bone.

She and I communicate fairly well. Yet, it’s amazing how little they understand about human communication. Often, I wish I could communicate more fully. That led me to think about how to explain how humans use natural language in terms Sadie could understand. Thus:

———————

“OK, Sadie, humans (I point to my chest) like me use language in two major ways. One of those ways is to collaborate better by communicating meaning.”

Sadie barked. 

“I know, Sadie, I know. I haven’t explained those words yet; we’ll get to it.”

Sadie barked. 

Rather than try to clarify my previous statement, I thought it better to advance in the spirit of “appreciative enquiry” and so I said, “That’s right, Sadie! The second way that humans use language is exactly the way you use it, to bark at other doggies! Or, sometimes, just to hear themselves bark.”

Sadie barked. 

“OK, I’ll give you an example. You know how the doggies next door bark incessantly whenever they’re out at the same time we are? You know how they spend their entire time jamming their teeth up against the fence to show how tough they are and bark as loud as they can meanwhile ignoring ten thousand things in their environment that are actually more interesting—or would be, if they gave it a chance? Well, that’s exactly how humans sometimes respond. And, it’s how they respond without any adaptation or learning.”

Sadie barked. 

“Oh, yes, you’re right. Those doggies (I point in the direction of the better doggies) barked a lot when they first met you and they bark again when they don’t see you for awhile, but they wag their tails and come to greet you. Many people bark like that too. When they first meet someone different, they bark to keep them away and claim their property and their stuff. But when they realize that the threat is minimal, they become friendly and stop screaming.”

Sadie barked.

“Right again, Sadie. Sometimes doggies bark just because something is new or novel or different from what they’re used to. You yourself do this. The mail truck swings by. The gardeners leave a tool. It’s different and you bark. And lots of people are the same way. They bark when something’s different. It doesn’t even have to be a person. It can be a thing, a tool, a book, or even a thought. The difference is that you get used to the new situation and stop barking after awhile.”

Sadie barked. 

“You know, I have given you lots of different tastes of things: kale, lettuce, squash, carrots, tomatoes, cooked potatoes, cooked broccoli, cucumber, raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, and lots of other things. And I tell you you can take it or leave it. You liked or tolerated everything on that list. But some people—to tell you the truth—the cats are much like this, but don’t tell them I said that—some people who have never tried, say, raspberries will bark at the raspberries and at me for offering them. ‘What?! Raspberries?! I’ve never tried one; never will! They look like a hive of deadly ladybugs to me!” 

Sadie barked. 

“Well, those are two of the most frequent categories, but there’s another that’s also quite common. They bark to upset themselves and others. It’s as though it isn’t enough to bark at the raspberries. That doesn’t really upset them very much. So they bark and bark and bark until other doggies in the neighborhood are thinking something like: ‘Invasion! Invasion! Set off the alarm.’
Others, of course, are more like: ‘Something’s out there we can hunt down and tear the guts out of! Come on! Let’s go do it!’ And that’s pretty much word for word what the human pack does as well.”

Sadie barked. 

It’s amazing how much they understand about human communication. 


How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Sadie is a Thief!

The Puppy’s Snapping Jaws

Doggie Doggerel

10 Friday Feb 2023

Posted by petersironwood in nature, pets, poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

dogs, life, pets, poem, poetry

Seeing Sadie standing in the daisies

Helps me deal with the crazies;

When she’s got her muzzle grounded

It helps me stay robust and rounded.

Sadie is a golden doodle

She doesn’t look much poodle

But she’s just as golden as can be

In the sunlight she’s just as she as she can be

Which also makes me feel more me.

She romps along the beach

Chase and chasing anything that isn’t still.

Tries to meet and greet by nosing each

And every moment is a lifetime’s thrill.

At end of day, she dreams her dream

Tomorrow is another day

For her to spring and sniff and scheme

For her to turn the world to play.


Sadie is a Thief

To Relish the Steps

Hai-Cat-Ku

A Cat’s a Cat and That’s That

Happy Darwin Day!

Life Will Find a Way

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

The Walkabout Diaries: The Life of the Party

The Walkabout Diaries: Symphony

The Walkabout Diaries: How Beautiful and Green

The Walkabout Diaries: Bee Wise

Skirting the Turtle

Grandpa Fed the Animals First

Sadie the Sifter

The Puppy’s Snapping Jaws

A Suddenly Springing Something

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

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