Sunday, February 28, 2010

How to Train a Cheetah


A rabbit-coursing Cheetah in the UK, circa 1937.

I am always a bit amused by the folks who talk about scientific dog training.

What they are trying to suggest is that there was no good dog training before B.F. Skinner (or Karen Pryor) and that they have discovered a secret science.

Now I am a big fan of B.F. Skinner. A great man.

I am an even bigger fan of Keller Breland and Marian Breland, who studied with Skinner, and with Bob Bailey who married Marian Breland after Keller died and who went on to helpe popularize reward-based animal training here in the U.S.  Karen Pryor will tell you most of what she knows she learned from Bob Bailey, who will tell you most of what he knows originated with Marian and Keller Breland who, in turn, learned a great deal from Skinner.

That said, B.F. Skinner did not invent operant conditioning, any more than Newton invented gravity.

Operant conditioning predates Skinner by many millenia, and not just in training dogs.

Consider this text from an 1865 publication entitled "Dog Breaking: the Most Expeditious, Certain and Easy Method".



Hey, that's operant conditioning!

Well yes it is. And in a book called "Dog Breaking" no less.

Hmmmm.... What's that about?

Well, it has more to do with language than technique. Language, you see has always been a problem in dog training.

The term "breaking," as used here, is simply a term moved over from the world of horses. It does not mean you are beating a dog into submission. Far from it, if you actually take the time to read the text.

But of course, when a rival publication came out in 1882, the term "breaking" was the new bogey man (every new product needs to first demonize the old).

Breaking? That must mean beating the dog to death right?

Who wants something that is broken? No one!

The new publication was entitled, "Practical Dog Training: or, Training vs. Breaking" and it wanted everyone to know that you could actually train a dog with a bit of food and a check cord.

And never mind if that was the the exact same message of the earlier text!

The "dog training wars" had started, and YES, it was mostly nonsense right from the start.

Of course, when B.F. Skinner's disciples came along, they too promised a new "scientific" system to replace the "old coercive" system of dog training that they said had preceded them.

They had just learned, they said, that animals could be taught to come for a piece of food, and that they could be taught to avoid things that made them uncomfortable.

Really? Tell us more!

Of course when Skinner showed up, he did not clarify things much in terms of language, did he?

In fact, he made an even bigger muddle of the language by using words like "punishment".

Punishment? Who wants to punish a dog? No one!

In fact what was being meted out most of the time was not "punishment" as we commonly use that term, but a simple instruction that says "we need less of that."

What Skinner called "reinforcement" was simply instruction that "we could use a little more of that."

Language continues to obscure, of course.

When Cesar Millan talks about "dominance," he is not talking about beating a dog as some assume; he is saying the human needs to be setting the agenda. The human needs to decide what food is served, when it is served, who gets it, and in what quantities. The human needs to decide when a walk starts, where it goes, and when it ends. The human needs to decide the rules of the house, not the dog.

Of course words like "dominance" tend to set off a lot of folks, just as words like "punishment" do.

Most of the time these folks have not actually bothered to read B.F. Skinner or Cesar Millan, much less page through old dog training books by Barbara Woodhouse or William Koehler, or the even older texts on "dog breaking."

It's so much easier to demonize stuff if you have not actually read it!

OK, enough about that. Point made (if a point is to be made).

I promised a lesson in how to train a Cheetah. Where is that?

The paragraphs below come from that earlier-named 1865 text on "Dog Breaking," and once again we find operant conditioning at work:

The education of the cheeta is no less progressive than that of the dog; and whatever patience the latter may require from his instructor, the former demands far greater; not so much from want of docility, as from the nearly total absence of all the feelings of attachment so conspicuous in the canine race.

The cubs when they are very young are stolen from the rocky fastnesses where they are usually bred. They are immediately hooded, and allowed no other exercise than what they can take when they are led about by their keeper. While he is feeding them, he invariably shouts in a peculiar key. In a month or so their eager looks, animated gestures, and possibly cheerful purr-ing, testify that they comprehend its import as fully as a hungry young ensign does "the roast beef of old England." They are then slightly chained, each to a separate bandy (bullock-cart), and habituated to its motion. They are always fed during the drive. They thus learn to expect a good meal in the course of their airing.

After a time the keeper, instead of feeding a promising pupil while he is a prisoner, goes to a little distance from the bandy and utters the singular cries now so joyfully heard, upon which an attendant slipping off the chain and hood the liberated cheeta runs to his trainer to be fed. By degrees this is done at increased distances. He is always conducted back to the carriage by the keeper's dragging at the lump of meat of which the animal retains a firm hold.

The next step is to for the man to again commence feeding near the cart, but without making any noise -- the removal of the hood being the only thing to tell the spotted beast to begin to look about him for his dinner. The last step is the substitution of a kid or wounded antelope ... His education is now completed; but for many months he is never unhooded at a herd unless the driver has managed to get the cart with a very favoring distance."


If you are a hawker or falconer, this all might sound pretty familiar.

Indeed, falconers had been training and flying wild birds for a millenia before B.F. Skinner trained a pigeon, or Bob Bailey noted that "you cannot choke a chicken."

But don't tell that to the "modern scientific" trainers. They still have something "new" to sell!
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ICE Round 1, Day 3, 4 & Aftermath

Obviously I have slacked on the daily updates. Getting the strength to write was near impossible. In short, I've been feeling awful. After day one, there was no more dancing with the IV pole. After the second day of meds things certainly got to be woozy, cloudy and anxiety provoking. By Friday after Dr. Dailey stopped by to tell me I could be discharged I was showered, packed up, shoes on and unhooked from the port waiting eagerly in a hospital chair when my mom and sister arrived to take me home. Since I've been home, I've been spending most of my time trying not to vomit or mustering the strength to get off the couch.

I handled the Carboplatin okay when it was added on the third day bringing the total hours of receiving drugs to five. However, each night when the meds finished dripping, I got very nauseous despite all the nausea blockers I would take hours before. Luckily, the "as needed" anti-nausea meds seemed to cut it, though on the last night I woke up needing it twice. I wasn't feeling hot at all Friday morning, but I wanted to go home so, so badly that I sucked it up as hard as I could. Dr. Dailey came by and I told him that I was doing okay and that I was definitely ready to go home. He agreed and provided me with some at-home scripts for nausea blockers and Atavan. I felt as if my head was disconnected and that my eyes and appendages were buldging from all the fluid I'd been in-taking and all the hot, stale air. I hung my head out my mom's car's passenger window like a dog on the way home and she even opened the sunroof for me though it was snowing right into the car.

But it wasn't all bad. I just feel so badly right now that it's hard to remember anything else, but I'm trying to focus on the positive as unfortunately I've got to do it all again ... twice. I had great surprises from some more visitors. Nicole came by to have lunch with me. Melissa, Leah and Kyle came Thursday evening, while my chemo was dripping, with treats and smoothies, then my brother-in-law, Eric, showed up to add to the laughs and Craig stayed until I was ready for sleep. We got quite rowdy as they played props with the ridiculously small TV monitor on an arm that served as the entertainment in my room. More co-workers stopped by with gorgeous flowers, sweet notes, and my fav Starbucks treat.

All the nurses were truly, truly amazing. I had great care the whole way through and never felt alone or neglected. They even rolled around with a "high tea" cart on Thursday while Craig and I were relaxing. A nurse in a crazy purple and red hat came in with a vast array of fresh pastries and donuts, coffee and tea to choose from. Fantastic! I enjoyed a 45-minute massage which felt fantastic on my achey legs especially, and even received a Reiki session the morning of my discharge. I was so taken away to a peaceful place that I didn't even hear my boss come into the room with a latte for me - very stealth. I also took a wellness workout class with two other cancer patients - one just 18 years old who had been in the hospital for a month, and a 60ish year old woman who was neutropenic and had to wear a mask to protect herself. I, on the other hand, managed to snap the exercise band they provided us while doing a set of tricep curls. It was humbling and made me realize how good I still have it, and how I do not want to lose my strength and how hard I'll have to work to keep it.

Now I am home and as I said, my time has literally been spent trying not to vomit. Friday I felt real woozy, but my symptoms were controllable for most of the day. My mom and sister cleaned my whole house while I slept and watched bad TV. Then Craig got home and my Dad arrived and we all just relaxed and watched the Olympics and I watched them play Wii Fit trying to do their own ski jump and slalom races, Craig bouncing up and down on the Wii board dodging wrecking balls in the obstacle course. I kept asking them to do funny things to keep my mind off the pain. Those included my mom doing mock Olympic sports around the house with a "Fuck Cancer" beanie on her head. This was funny. I'd call out "speed skating," "short program," "skeleton," or "bobsled" and she'd pantomime. Oddly, they all looked alike. It was hilarious.

But then suddenly the laughing turned into awful, awful stomach pains and I got very serious and snippy. I hadn't had a bowel movement since I was admitted to the hospital and the nausea blockers tend to block the action down there too. So, it was debilitating s-pains to the point where I was asking someone, anyone, to just stab me in the stomach to alleviate the pain. I sipped on hot chamomile tea, did the exercises that my mom said she would do with her c-section patients that were clogged up, but nothing (still) has seemed to work. With awful pains and vomit hovering right at my throat sphincter I was able to get up to bed, take an Atavan and fall asleep.

Yesterday I woke up with less stomach pain though the nausea was still there. Craig had to drive me back to Hartford Hospital to get a Neulasta shot at 7 a.m. This is the equivalent to 10 of the Neupogen shots that I used to get during the ABVD. It will serve to stimulate my bone marrow and get my counts back to reasonable levels. The nurse practitioner explained that I'll have a lot of bone pain in my hips, shoulders, chest, and gave my a prescription for vicodin. I'm starting to feel it this morning and may in fact go get that script filled. The rest of the day yesterday I was uneasy but stable. I got enough strength to take a walk with Sam and Craig down at the park, which was hard, but felt great. Dr. Dailey told me to alternate rest periods with activity periods so I'm doing my best, even if it's just a few minutes on the treadmill. Much of the day was spent cuddling with Sammy and watching trashy tv like "16 and Pregnant," "America's Next Top Model" and "Real World DC." I ached to be able to sleep, but the stimulating effects of the steroids matched with the uncomfortable stomach feelings prevented that so I watched "Billy Elliot," started a puzzle and picked at whatever food I could take - forcing down nutrients.

Then nighttime came and it was almost time to be able to take an Atavan which helps with nausea and anxiety. I got up off the couch to let Sammy out while Craig slept a few cushions over. I shut the front door, turned back around, burped, and that was the end. There was no stopping it. I woke Craig up to wrenching vomiting. I made it to our nice, wood-woven garbage basket in the living room - not ideal - but better than the floor, I suppose. Craig ran to get a replacement and I shifted my barf aim into a cardboard box as he hovered over me. It kept coming and it sounded and smelt inhuman as I wretched animal-like. I despise, despise, despise throwing up and can't remember the last time I did it. Tears streamed down my face and I was sweaty and achey in my already raw intestines. I had been so proud that I never threw up from the ABVD. I guess high-dose chemotherapy is no joke. Once I brushed my teeth and showered I admit that I did feel better. For the first time in four days I wasn't nauseous, but I worry that this will continue, and I know how important it is to keep nutrients down.

This morning? So far so good. More achey and weak than nauseous so hopefully that's a good sign. My little brother made the trip from Roger Williams so I am looking forward to seeing him today and hope to again be able to make it out of the house for some fresh air and a walk. Other than than, just taking things literally hour by hour.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

My shadow...wild mustard and popcorn trees!

We're usually in Hawaii at this time of year, but this year we are here in Northern California and spring is bursting forth all around me!

The hills are so green that it almost hurts my eyes....the wild mustard meadows are an expanse of bright bright yellow and all around are beautiful trees with the most delicate buds and flowers in pinks and whites.

Our children and I always called them popcorn trees because.....well, they reminded us of popcorn popping open.










You're Not an ABUSIVE Trainer, Are You?



Have you noticed that the "instant experts" have decided that every kind of dog collar is the wrong one?

A flat collar, after all, does not stop the dog from pulling, while a slip collar can choke!

Surely no one would greenlight either one!

A pinch collar pinches, while an e-collar shocks.

Surely no one would greenlight either one!

What about a constriction harness or a head halter?

Good lord NO!

The former squeezes the dogs insides and does nothing to stop the dog from pulling, while the later can scrape against the eye and cause corneal damage and neck injury.

After hearing this, if you are terrified that you might "do it wrong," with your new dog, then the message has worked.

You see, so much of this nonsense comes from "click and treat" dog trainers who are intent on selling their services, their books, and their CD-roms.

Their main message is that you are probably incapable of training your own dog without their input.

If you go it alone with a book from the library, you might injure your dog!

Never mind that hundreds of millions of dogs have been trained for thousands of years on six continents without the advice of click-and-treat dog trainers.

The click-and-treat folks want you to know they are here to Save the Day ... provided, of course, you have a credit card.

Part of their pitch is fear.

You aren't an ABUSIVE owner are you? Because they want you to know they do not believe in ABUSIVE dog training.

You don't believe in OUTDATED training methods do you? Because they want you to know they believe in only the LATEST, MODERN methods.

Surely you want to be modern and non abusive?

All right then -- sign up with any of the trainers to be found in the directory!

Now there is nothing wrong with going to a dog trainer (all for it), and there is nothing wrong with click and treat dog training (all for it)

But do me a favor eh? Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining!

Example one is the simple slip collar. It's been used for a thousand years and it works.

I am past 50 years old and I have never seen a dog injured by one, and I bet you haven't either.

I have seen dogs injured by cars, fences, broken glass, hot tar, and nails, but never by a slip collar.

Now take a look at this pamphlet put out by an outfit in the U.K. called the "Association of Pet Dog Trainers".



The take-away message this outfit is promoting is that we are supposed to "lead them not choke them.'

That sounds brilliant, but take a close look at the picture in the middle.

How can you lead a dog if the point of tether on the harness is at the midpoint, and facing backwards?

You can't!

In fact a harness of the kind shown is what you might put on a sled dog or a horse hitched to a plow or wagon!

Harnesses of this type are designed to pull a weight from behind, not allow an animal to be lead from the front. In short, the harness shown does the opposite of what is needed!

What about the text on the side that says "Studies"? That sounds substantive, but guess what? No studies are actually cited.

What you get instead is text from an unknown canine opthamologist who warns that "91% of dogs with cervical anomalies experienced harsh jerks on lead or had a long history of pulling on the lead."

That sounds ominous until you think about it for 15 seconds.

Did you notice the lack of a numerator? Did you notice the lack of source? Who did this study? Over what time span? Did you notice there was no mention of how these "injuries" were defined? Was this a longitudinal study?

We have no idea. This could be 11 dogs over 50 years out of a population of 60 million dogs for all we know.

What we DO know is that in 2,000 years of dog training, no one else seems to have seen widespread neck injures in dogs from proper use of a slip collar.

William Koehler did not see it, nor Barbara Woodhouse. You and I have not seen it. And neither has your veterinarian, I will bet. Have you noticed that your vet puts a plastic slip lead on all the dogs before leading them to the waiting room?

But, of course, there's more. Did you notice that the text talks about dog injuries occurring when a dog has "a long history of pulling on the lead"?

Eh?

A choke chain is designed to prevent pulling on the lead. It is not a tie-out collar; it's a training collar!

This is basic.

Also basic is how to put on a choke collar.

Look at the picture below, on the same pamphlet. The big choke chain at left is backwards!



And these folks want to instruct the rest of us on how to train a dog?

Who are these folks? Who or what is the "Association of Pet Dog Trainers"?

It sounds fancy, but in fact this outfit is nothing more than an umbrella click-and-treat dog training referral service which markets it members by demonizing other dog training methods.

Cesar Millan? Shoot him! His methods do not work (and never mind that you can see them working fine every night on your television).

Chain slip collars? Inhumane and out of date (and never mind they have worked for 2,000 years).

E-collars? Ban them! (and never mind they work fine provided you read the instructions).

To support their authority, this dog trainer referral service parades their logo. Apparently a bit worried that their logo alone might not be enough, they also toss on a dog food logo for added measure.

Surely a few logos are authority enough to criticise and demonize Barbara Woodhouse, William Koehler, and 2,000 years of successful dog training by experienced men and women on six continents?!

Now to be clear, I am not saying these folks cannot train a dog.

Of course they can.

But you will pardon me if I hold on to my wallet with one hand and my slip collars and leashes with the other.

You see, I am pretty sure about one thing ....

If someone comes along and tells you that everything that everyone else has been doing for 2,000 years in the world of dogs is entirely wrong, you should RUN (not walk!) in the opposite direction.

Nothing good starts with a lie.

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Friday, February 26, 2010

God Says to Kill SeaWorld's Management?



Over at a web site called Rightly Concerned they seem to be suggesting that God wants Seaworld's management DEAD.

Their rationale? The Bible tells them so!

Chalk another death up to animal rights insanity and to the ongoing failure of the West to take counsel on practical matters from the Scripture....

... If the counsel of the Judeo-Christian tradition had been followed, Tillikum [the Killer Whale that killed its handler] would have been put out of everyone's misery back in 1991 and would not have had the opportunity to claim two more human lives.

Says the ancient civil code of Israel, "When an ox gores a man or woman to death, the ox shall be stoned, and its flesh shall not be eaten, but the owner shall not be liable." (Exodus 21:28)

So, your animal kills somebody, your moral responsibility is to put that animal to death. You have no moral culpability in the death, because you didn't know the animal was going to go postal on somebody.

But, the Scripture soberly warns, if one of your animals kills a second time because you didn't kill it after it claimed its first human victim, this time you die right along with your animal. To use the example from Exodus, if your ox kills a second time, "the ox shall be stoned, and its owner also shall be put to death." (Exodus 21:29)


Of course, the Bible also greenlights slavery, rape (provided you pay a small fine and marry the girl), and human sacrifice.

Follow directions people!
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Don't Worry, Be Happy

Found this over at We Need Coffee and loved it.

For those who want an epic beat-poem voicing a similar thought, however, click here.

Yes, it's 9 minutes long, but it's worth every second! Promise.
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Are Pet Dogs More Myopic Than Working Dogs?



The "Nearsightedeyes" web site reports on a study of about two hundred dogs by veterinarian Christopher J. Murphy and his colleagues who found that certain breeds of pet dogs were prone to myopia.

..... two-thirds of Rottweiler and half of German shepherds and miniature schnauzers in this study were significantly myopic, by more than 1.5 diopters. The myopic Rottweilers were close to 3 diopters nearsighted on average. Generally, people who have more than about 0.75 diopters of nearsightedness will complain of noticeable impairment and find they need to wear glasses or contact lenses to function in everyday life.

The animals in this study population were all pets. Interestingly, when Murphy and his coworkers looked at a second population of German shepherds – animals kenneled at Guide Dogs for the Blind in San Rafael, California – they found that the guide dogs had average normal vision, with fewer than a third showing even as much as 0.5 diopters of nearsightedness.

The guide dog program did not specifically test dogs’ vision in selecting animals, but they did flunk out any dogs that failed to perform well in training, which suggests that myopia results in a real impairment in getting the job done. The average farsightedness of sporting dog breeds suggests that there has likewise been selection at work in these breeds – that good distance vision has a demonstrable effect on making a good working dog.

The researchers noted a tendency for severe nearsightedness to run in families, which suggests a strongly inherited component. In breeds that are not expected to perform anything more demanding than lying on the carpet, walking on a leash, and finding their supper bowl, there has no doubt been little selection for good vision, which has allowed myopia to sneak into the gene pool.


I would throw up a caution flag here: a pool of 200 dogs is pretty small, and not much can really be known about vision across breeds with a sample size so small.

How many Rottweilers, German Shepherds and Miniature Schnauzers were really in the sample, and how much genetic variation within these breeds did that sample really represent?

Not many and not much is my bet!

That said, an expanded and improved study might be a good project for some budding canine opthamologist to cut his or her teeth on.

A hat tip to Gina Spadafori at Pet Connection for sending the link my way!
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Thursday, February 25, 2010

Free Willy?



Whatever happened to Keiko?

Kieko, for those who do not know, was the star of the movie "Free Willy."

Keiko was born in 1977 or 1978, and captured near Iceland in 1979. He was then sold to the Icelandic aquarium in Hafnarfjörður.

Three years later, in 1982, he was sold to Marineland in Ontario, Canada, where he first started performing for the public and where he began to develop skin lesions.

In 1985, Keiko was sold to Reino Aventura (now "Six Flags Mexico"), in Mexico City, for $350,000.

It is here that Willy first came to the attention of a writer and producer for Warner Brothers, who wrote and produced the movie "Free Willy," which premiered in 1993 and made over $153 million worldwide.

Thanks to publicity from the movie and its sequels (and with the very reluctant support of Warner Brothers) a push was made to "save" Keiko by moving him to a better aquarium in the U.S.

In 1996, Keiko was flow out of Mexico by UPS and rehomed at the Oregon Coast Aquarium in his own $7 million tank. Over the next two years, Keiko gained over 2,000 pounds in weight and rid himself of his skin problems.

In September of 1998, Keiko was flown to Iceland under the auspices of Jean-Michel Cousteau's Ocean Futures Society.

The goal: Return Keiko (aka "Willy") back to the wild.

Keiki was flown in a US Airforce C-17 transport jet to a massive holding pen in Klettsvik Bay in Vestmannaeyjar, Iceland where he was to be re-acclimatated to the wild.

Part of the reacclimatization program eventually included supervised free swims in the open ocean where, after a period, Keiko appeared to begin feeding on his own, and where he also met (and perhaps socialized) with wild Orcas.

On a supervised free swim in July of 2002, Keiko disappeared, and he could not be relocated despite satellite telemetry attached to one of his fins.

In November of 2002, Keiko was spotted off the coast of Norway, almost 900 miles away, and he followed a fishing boat to the port of of Halsa,. Norway.

From Halsa, Keiko was led, through the open ocean, to nearby Taknes Bay where he was fed by caretakers, and where the responsibility for his care was transfered from the Ocean Futures Society to the Free Willy Keiko Foundation and the Humane Society of the US.

In December of 2003, Keiko died in Taknes Bay, Norway, apparently of pneumonia.

He was buried on shore, his grave marked by a stone cairn assembled by Norwegian school children.
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ICE Round 1, Day 2

I'm starting to get the urge to rip this IV line out of my port. It's getting old being tethered to this pole. It's certainly not as agile and stealth as I am. It's like walking around with another person that doesn't know personal boundaries. There are six wheels like spider legs and maneuvering it is like trying to maneuver a dud shopping cart that squeals and tends to the left. This is especially precarious during my hourly bathroom trips. The pole doesn't exactly fit in there with me so I have to close my room door and pull it against the outside of the bathroom door feeding the tube through a crack and I get just enough slack to reach the toilet seat. However, IV pole or no IV pole, I've been walking laps around the unit a few times a day at a good clip. Yesterday I got up to six laps holding my pole like we're walking arm in arm. This morning the speed slowed some; I am starting to feel more lethargic and I think the drug effects are starting to settle in a little.

Yesterday, my sister and parents came for much of the afternoon. It was great to see her all tanned with California sunshine. A good contrast to the dreary, dreary weather that's been outside my hospital window. The originally forecasted snow has instead been only rain and slush so I haven't seen the sun since I've been admitted. We talked and caught up and she brought me some fun West Coast trinkets that now decorate my window sill paired with a bouquet of flowers from my best friend since childhood, Kristen, who also made it by for a visit yesterday. It's a combination of the cala lilies I carried in my wedding and the Gerbera daisies she carried in hers. My parents and sis took walks with me, we played cards and watched videos. I finished Lance's book and am onto my next, so in short, I'm keeping busy.

A highlight of the day was the chance to take a shower, albeit in a communal shower. I wore flip flops. That meant I could be disconnected from my pole and it was quite, quite liberating. They kept my port accessed so that I wouldn't have to get stuck with the needle again and liberally applied Glad Cling Wrap with waterproof tape all over the area to protect the dressing from getting wet. I milked the "unhooked time" for all that it was worth and certainly did not hit the nurse call when I got out of the shower. I figured I'd just wait until they thought about coming to reconnect me to my fluids. To add to this best part of the day, when I came back to the room all fresh and clean there was my boss Lee and a co-worker Marcia there to visit with armfuls of candy treats and a dark chocolate Dove ice cream bar. It was great to visit and catch up with them. It's been almost three weeks since I started my leave of absence from work.

Last night when the chemo drugs started at about 5 I got very tired. They dripped until about 9pm and then I got the nausea wave again at 10pm or so, but again the nausea blocker they gave me worked wonders. I immediately fell asleep and didn't wake up until 6am when they came to draw blood from my port and had to disturb me to roll over. They were in three other times throughout the night to administer the post-chemo drug Mezna but I didn't even crack an eye. I was out. Luckily, I've always had an uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere, one time even on a fur couch at a posh New York City night club with techno music blaring and people dancing all around me. There are many witnesses. I'm always the first to fall asleep at parties and am known to curl up anywhere to retire. When I'm tired, I'm tired. This sometimes handicap works in my favor here because it must be a nightmare for light sleepers with bed alarms going off and frequent announcements over the speakers throughout the day and night.

This morning I'm feel very swollen from all the fluids I've been in-taking and very dry from the air here. It's quite toasty and there's not a lot of circulation. Fresh air will be wondrous upon my release tomorrow!

Dr. Dailey has been by each morning to check on me. He reported today that my bloodwork has looked good, that my electrolytes are holding out. I'm a bit anemic, which could be causing the sloth-like feeling I'm starting to encounter. Overall, he's very pleased with my progress and has full confidence that I'll do well with the Carboplatnin I'll be getting today for the first time.

Lots to look forward to this morning and today. I already had a visit from another huge hearted co-worker, Joanne. Craig will be back this afternoon and several other friends have mentioned they'll be dropping by. I'm headed to the wellness workout now. I asked if I could be disconnected for it, but no suck luck, though I'm assured that I won't be the only one in there with an IV pole. Then my masseuse comes at 11 a.m. for an hour of bliss.

The Three Parts of Operant Conditioning

What we call "dog training" is also called "operant conditioning."

For all the mumbo-jumbo you hear about dog training, there are are only three basic parts to it: positive reinforcement, aversive reinforcement, and extinction.

Positive reinforcement is any kind of consequence that causes a behavior to occur more often. Examples include food, praise, and play. In some situations, positive reinforcement can be the removal of an aversive reinforcement.

Aversive reinforcement is a consequence that causes a behavior to occur less often. Examples include a leash pop, a harsh sound, or any kind of nonverbal aversive communication made through body movement or positioning. In some situations, punishment can also be the removal of a (positive) reinforcement.

Extinction is simply a complete lack of response. The nonresponse should be total -- no eye contact, no noise or sound triggered by the dog, and no responsive body movement. The dog is invisible.



Watch the short animated clip above, and you will note that the cartoon Cesar Millan uses all three methods to train South Park's Eric Cartman after "Super Nanny" collapses and goes insane in the face of the trials and tribulations of this spoiled-rotten child.

Step one in the Cesar Millan bag of tricks is to extinguish Cartman's negative behavior.

What Millan is doing by ignoring Cartman is signaling that a "new sheriff" is in town -- one that will not be overly reactive.

When Millan talks about "calm, assertive energy" what he is really saying is that the owners have to react less.

A calm owner is not sending a lot of signals, and an assertive owner is not sending tentative or confusing signals.

Send fewer signals. Send clearer signals. Do not be drawn into the dog or the child's drama in a kind of call-and-response situation.

By ignoring young Eric Cartman at the beginning, Millan is creating a "silence" which forces Cartman to pay attention. Suddenly he is not running the show, which means he now needs to pay attention to see how (and if) he can regain control. Cartman is used to running the show and he thinks that is his job. Millan is teaching him something else.

Cesar Millan puts up with a certain amount of nonsense from young Eric, and then he sends a negative signal. The signal has two components; one is tactile, and the other is oral (but not verbal).

Even as he sends the "punishment" of an unambiguous negative signal, Millan is also maintaining his control by ignoring Cartman.

Cartman is not able to "lead" the group by acting out. In fact, both Millan and Cartman's mom are ignoring him! He has gotten a negative reaction, but he has not gotten an empowering response that makes him the center of attention.

At the end of this clip, Millan is seen walking Cartman.

Walking does several things simultaneously-- it gives Cartman something physical to do, and it helps to drain off "the jitters" that both kids and dogs naturally have if they are kept cooped up for too long.

Taking Cartman for a walk also forces the Mother to spend "alone time" with Cartman -- a major reward for Cartman (attention-seeking is one reason he may have been acting out).

The act of taking Cartman for a walk also puts the Mother in the role of initiating, leading and ending the activity.

In short, walking the child or the dog is both a reward (time with mother), a remedy (activity soothes anxiety), and a recapitulation of the pack hierarchy (the Mother is reinforced as the pack leader).

Watch any episode of The Dog Whisperer, and you will see Millan use these same three techniques over and over again.

And to recap, he is using ALL of the tools of dog training:

  • Positive reinforcement (reward)

  • Aversive reinforcement (punishment)

  • Extinction (nonresponse to minor inappropriate behavior that is not self-reinforcing).


Is Cear Millan using dog treats and a clicker for positive reinforcement? No, not generally. But yes, that too is a way of giving positive reinforcement. Contrary to what some dog-training faddists might have you believe, however, click-and-treat is not the only way to give positive reinforcement.

Is the punishment harsh? No. Cartman is not being spanked, much less whipped with a telephone cord. What is happening here is simple communication. The goal is to get the child or the animal to understand what is not wanted, as well as what is wanted. Aversives do not need to be harsh for either a human or an animal to want to avoid them.

You will note that Millan does not always use a leash to train. It shocks people that Millan actually touches a dog! Oh. My. God.

But Millan is no fool -- he knows dogs in houses do not (and cannot) spend their life on a leash, but mild corrections are still needed. The answer: a simple tap with his fingers and a harsh (but not loud or overly threatening) sound serves as a warning that the immediate behavior is improper.

Millan's timing is excellent. He generally corrects dogs in mid-action, and so there is no ambiguity as to what is being said. Sometimes he will "body block" by squaring up his body with the dog -- a way of punctuating his message.

For the record, your life is a product of the same kind of operant conditioning that is being practiced by Cesar Millan.

You get to work on time because of the prospect of positive reinforcement (praise, pay and promotion) and negative reinforcement (criticism, demotion or termination).

If you tell a racist joke at the water cooler, and your coworkers turn away and act as if you are invisible, your bad behavior will be extinguished pretty quickly.

Here's a question: Do you think people would stop at a red light if they did not get traffic tickets for running through them?

Should a store owner praise you and tell you what a wonderful person you are when you pay for your goods, but simply look the other way if you steal them? If you steal from the store, should the limit of the store owner's displeasure be to tell you "no" and not praise you?

How do you think society would work if there was only praise and no punishment?

How do you think society would work if there was only punishment and no praise?

Think both of those questions over.

You see, the world needs balance. And it needs balanced trainers who come at the job with a complete set of tools.

As I have noted in the past, I can build a house with only six tools, but I need every one of them to do a credible job.

The fact that I do not use a level and a square as often as a saw and hammer does not make these two tools expendable.

And so it is with dog training.

I can train a dog with only three tools, but I need all three do to a credible job.

I would no more salute a dog trainer who never used aversive reinforcement than I would hire a builder who never used a level and a square, and for much the same reason -- lining things up and keeping them tight makes the entire structure more durable under stress and in bad weather.

And really, isn't that when we need a good house most?

As for Eric Cartman, how did the rest of his training go? Well, let's see:


The entire episode can be seen here.

Notice that young Eric Cartman had settled down pretty quickly.

Is he happy that he is not the center of attention and leading everyone around? Not yet! But Mrs. Cartman is not at her wit's end here -- a glimmer of hope is revealed because for the first time ever, Cartman is getting clear and consistent communication. Part of that communication is that bad behavior has consequences, and that the agenda is no longer being set by the small annoyance at the end of the leash.



In the end, Eric Cartman is completely transformed. No longer angry and out of control, he is getting regular positive feedback for engaging in model behavior.

He has learned the most important rule of society: Do good, get good; do bad, get bad.

But of course, it turns out that young Cartman's needs are easier to fill than his mother's!

When Cesar Millan leaves, Mrs. Cartman find that she is lonely again, and she reverts back to her old ways of making Eric the center of the house, sending the wrong signals, and relinquishing all power to "the little monster".

Any question as to how that ends?

Now to restate a point I have made before: Cesar Millan's way is not the only way to train dogs.

That said, all successful training methods are based on only three components: positive reinforcement, aversive reinforcement, and extinction. Almost everything else else is chaining, shaping, timing and repetition -- methods to put a point on the pencil.

Different trainers will have different mixes of positive to negative reinforcement, and some will use extinction to better effect than others.

Some trainers are better at timing and nonverbal communication than others.

Different trainers will have different preferences in terms of rewards and aversives, and most good trainers will change those rewards and aversives based on the type, temperament and preference of the animal.

That said, if a trainer does not ever use extinction and does not ever use aversives in training, you do not have a complete trainer or a complete training system.

Can a man with just a hammer and a saw build a house?

Sure.

But remember that the house will be slower to build, will leak when it rains, and will be hot in summer and cold in winter.

Some people are fine with that -- "Hey, it's just a little cabin in the woods. I'm almost never there."

Other folks demand a higher standard. They want a carpenter with a tape measure, a square and a level as well a hammer, a saw, and a glass cutter.

Not only will the house that carpenter builds go up faster, it will also do the job better in the long term.

Yes, both carpenters will be working with just saw and a hammer most of the time, but those four other tools, properly used, actually do make a world of difference.
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Same Breed, Same Day


Click to enlarge

Cesar Millan's much-loved and gentle Pit Bull, Daddy, has gone to the big kennel in the sky. He was sixteen years old.

Like so many Pit Bulls, Daddy was a dog acquired in haste by a young person -- this time the rapper Redman.

When Daddy was four months old, Redman decided the dog was more than he could handle, and he took it to Cesar Millan who ended up keeping the dog.

Daddy was raised it in a calm, assertive manner (I had to say it) in a pack of more than 30 other dogs of every size, shape and demeanor.

In his 16 years on earth, Daddy showed what is possible with a Pit Bull in the right hands.

Sadly, too many Pit Bulls end up in the wrong hands.

Every day of the week, more than 2,400 Pit Bulls are euthanized in America because -- like Daddy -- they were acquired in haste, and unlike Daddy, they were unable to find their "Cesar Millan."
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Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Killer Whales and the Limits of "Click and Treat"



In the March issue of Dog's Today, veterinarian Ian Dunbar has an interesting line.

After telling us that "science based training techniques are the best way of getting good, reliable results," and explaining that he never uses any aversive corrections when he dog trains, and that he even dislikes leashes because "leash training gives owners a false sense of security," he asks "I mean, how on earth would you reprimand a naughty killer whale?"

Right.

Dunbar is a pure "click and treat" dog trainer. He runs a dog training school in California, and he has written dog training books. I said nice things about him (and every other dog trainer who has ever written a book) in the March issue of Dog's Today, even as I explained the limits of his type of pure-positive training.

As for Killer Whales, you would think their name might be a caution.

You might think Ian Dunbar would have done a little research on this animal before writing about them.

You see, there are only 47 captive Orcas in the world, but these animals have attacked their positive-training handlers dozens of times, and have actually killed five of them.

The latest fatality occured today at Sea World.

I cannot tell the story or raise the issues better than Heather Houlahan does over at her blog, Raised by Wolves, so go over there to read her take on it all. And be sure to read it all.

As for Ian Dunbar, I have good news for him: there appears to be a new opening for a trainer of Killer Whales at Sea World.
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Satisfaction


No Longer Available

Pedigree Dogs Ex-SLOWED



Pedigree dog food has some good ads. See here for two past examples featured on this blog.
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Girls Gone Wild :: 1924


Click for huge version.

Three models in 1924 at "Arlington Beach", which was an amusement park on what is now the grounds of the Pentagon, across the river from Washington, D.C. and about a mile from my house. The water at this "beach" is the Potomac River.

Image from Shorpy.com. Click here for a terrific colorized version.
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ICE Round 1, Day 1

So I survived the first day of the ICE chemo regimen. We "checked in" to the HH Spa in the fifth floor of the Bliss Wing (appropriate) around 8:30 a.m. yesterday. Nearly 24 hours later, I've had two sacks of chemo drugs, a constant drip of fluid at the rate of half-a-cup every half hour from 11 a.m. yesterday on, three small sacks of another drug to protect my bladder against the chemo effect, lots of snacks that I brought and (gasp) two pretty decent hospital meals.

My room is large and private. I have my own small (very small) TV that gets lots of channels and my own bathroom and sink. However, no shower. This I have to share communally with the rest of the floor. I've asked my mom to bring back flip flops for me as this reminds me of college days and I'm a little skeeved about going in there barefoot.
I have a huge window that runs the length of the far wall through which I was able to watch the chunky snow flakes mixed with soothing rain throughout the day. Signs of healing. It seems there will be mixed winter weather outside the window for my entire stay here, but I actually think that's more tolerable than bright sun would be as in this type of weather I feel like you're supposed to be cooped up and cozy. The sun would only make me ache to be outside soaking it in.

The care has been nothing short of extraordinary. And I'm not just saying that because I work in the marketing department, really. I've been truly impressed by the resources, the attentive care, all the offerings. We've been flooded with helpful pamphlets and printouts with details on each of my drugs. We had a visit from a social worker to talk about finances. A nutritionist is scheduled to stop by at some point. Craig was given a rickety but mildly comfortable cot to stay the night in. There are no limitations on accepting visitors or having sleepovers. I'm signed up
for a "wellness fitness class" Thursday morning with the other patients on the floor. Volunteers will be coming by to give me a therapeutic Reiki session each day, and I was even given a gift certificate for a massage scheduled for 11 a.m. Thursday right here in my room, paid for by a generous grant from an organization called Angie's Spa that has partnered with the Gray Cancer Center. All of these pieces certainly balance out the bad. It's *almost* like our Sandals honeymoon. I can get plastic canisters of oj and cranberry juice or mini cans of gingerale whenever I want it and Hood ice cream cups are available on demand! My bed moves up and down and I can adjust my foot and back positioning with ease.

My nurse, Susan, was with me all day yesterday and she was so thorough and thoughtful. The first step was to access my port yesterday morning. It's all done under a lot more anti-infection protocol here as an inpatient. She wore a mask, gloves, a gown, and I had to turn my head during the insertion. The needle went in beautifully and now it's all covered and taped and nothing that I have to worry about for the rest of the stay. I can even shower with it accessed after they cover it with cling wrap.

The day progressed with a whole lot of waiting, but Craig was with me all day, and we kept busy taking walks around the oncology/palliative care unit (with my IV pole in tow since we are now attached), reading, napping, playing games, etc.

Late morning I took a drug by mouth, Allopurinol, that will lower the amount of uric acid in my blood and protect my kidneys, which can be damaged by one of the chemo drugs. Then at about 5pm came the nausea blockers, also by mouth: Zofran, Emend, and Decadron. It wasn't until 6:30pm that I started the chemo drugs. I'm told this is because the pharmacy mixes all of the outpatient chemo first since the cancer center closes at 5pm then they tackle it for us inpatients. After they mix it the drug bags go through four different check points to verify accuracy, so it's understandable that it took a long time.

Susan was detailed in explaining what the effects of each of the drugs would be. She went over everything about the amounts I was being given, how long each would take, matched it up to my ID number and told me that I should feel no differently than I did before she started dripping them in - and if I did, to let her know right away.

The first was the Etoposide (E). It dripped into my port for one hour. Then came the Ifosfamide (I), which dripped for three hours. With such a late-day start, this meant that I received chemo until after 10:30pm last night. The Ifosfamide is the one that is nearly double the dose a normal adult would receive as part of the pediatric protocol I am under. The Carboplatin (C) won't come into play until Thursday when I will receive all three ICE drugs. All the while that these are dripping, I receive IV fluids as well. It's extremely important that I drink a lot even on top of that to flush out the residual tumor particles that the drugs are smashing through. I get to pee in what's called a hat in the toilet so they can monitor my urine output. They're watching all of my bodily functions very closely.

All yesterday I felt great. My parents arrived to visit for the evening just as the chemo was getting started. They joined Craig and I as we watched Jeopardy, chatted and laughed and ordered in a couple of pizzas from J Restaurant/Bar just across the street - they deliver right to the floor! I was so hungry from the anti-nausea drugs and steroids. I powered my whole penne pasta florentine with chicken hospital meal then 4 pieces of pizza. I guess my appetite isn't affected. However, Dr. Dailey warned me this morning that I might want to tone that down as the stomach upset may still be on the horizon. I did some laps around the unit with my parents and showed them the lounge area where there's a big fish tank, comfy couches, and a pantry with food and drink up for grabs. I'm grateful that I'm able to walk around and eat whatever I want. I really have no restrictions.

It wasn't until about 11 a.m. last night when I started feeling crappy. I all of the sudden had a huge wave of nausea, complete with that hot, scary feeling. Way worse than I ever got with the ABVD chemo. Sweaty all over and head spins and that awful awareness of my throat sphincter. I thought for sure I was going to vomit. I called for the nurse and she was able to administer another anti-nausea drug which Dr. Dailey had ordered in anticipation of this reaction (God bless him) to be given on demand. It worked well and had the dual effect of knocking me out to sleep which helped everything. The night nurse said she tried to wake me up and I wasn't budging, even with a shove, so I guess I slept deeply, at least for a few hours. But then I was woken every three hours to receive Mesna, a drug that also drips into my port for 15 minutes and will protect my bladder from damage that can be caused by the chemo drugs. I got the last one at 6 a.m. and have been up ever since.

Today, same routine. My sister flew in from Cali late, late last night, delayed by the snow, and her and my parents are currently sleeping at my house and taking care of Sammy. I can't wait for them to arrive later this morning. It'll be great to see her! Craig is also taking a half-day of work and will be back to be with me later this afternoon. Even if we're not talking or all doing our own thing it is great to have others around me, so that I don't feel alone, especially when my IV tether puts things out of reach. Even though I can unplug it from the wall, it's not exactly dainty and the spider-like wheels don't make it into tight spaces to reaching things can be difficult. It'll be a good feeling to be detached on Friday. But until then I know that it's feeding me life-saving meds so I'll deal with it.

Another video produced by my talented husband. We found some creative ways to pass the time. I wonder what we'll be doing on day 4, eek:


Just Another Agility Course


This is a repost from July 2007.


While hunting with terriers is an ever-changing, always dynamic day in the field, Kennel Club go-to-ground earthdog trials are normally about as interesting as watching submarine racing.

Hours are spent on the sidelines looking at absolutely nothing, as everything takes place underground and there is no real quarry or actual digging. Bring a chair and a book, and maybe an iPod. It's going to be a long day.

In the video clip, above, we see a valiant attempt to make the slow-moving earthdog trial a visual sport, with an up-and-down earthdog setup, built above-ground, and coupled with a clear plastic side so that the dogs can actually be seen by spectators. I think this rig may have been created for an Animal Planet TV show.

The object of the endeavor is a fox mask at the end of the run.

What is missing here, of course, is even a close approximation of real work; the dog does not have to find the quarry, nor can it get lost underground as there are no side pipes.

The wooden walls are smooth and spacious and present little obstacle to even an over-large dog.

Though there is a constriction point at one point in the pipe, the dog can see what it is up against, and since the barrier is exactly the same as the one it has faced in training, it is not much of a novelty. Even then the dog has to be coaxed to "dig through" the blocking material, which is not real dirt, root and rock but paper excelsior.

Finally, of course, the thing at the end of the pipe is taxidermy and not a live fox, groundhog or raccoon that will lunge, bite, rip a muzzle, snarl, or even bolt.

This is a habit-trail for dogs, same as pet stores sell for hamsters.

I used to think go-to-ground trials did no harm and might even do some good if they drew people into the real world of terrier work, but I am no longer sure. This "see through" trial is even easier than a regular go-to-ground set up, and is pretty far from real terrier work.

There is really no way to "fix" these earthdog trials with better design. The reason for this is simple: the dog has to get through the trial in a few minutes so that the next pay-to-play contestant can step up in an orderly matter. Nor can the test be too hard, or folks won't drive hours to collect their ribbon. Nor can people be asked to carry tools or do any actual digging as many of the human contestants seeking ribbons are in such poor physical shape that crossing a gravel parking lot is considered a journey.

How many people think these earthdog trials are a close approximation of real hunting? Most think that, I can tell you!

That said, if they get even a few people out in the world of digging ... well, there is some small hope of that, I suppose.

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Tuesday, February 23, 2010

C-Sections at the Kennel Club


A Mastiff gets a c-section.

A study paid for by The Kennel Club, and published in the Journal of Small Animal Practice notes that in some breeds, the vast majority of dogs are now born cesarean.

The study looked at 151 breeds that reported on at least 10 litters. A total of 13,141 bitches, whelping 22,005 litters, were included in the analysis. The frequency of cesarean sections was estimated as the percentage of litters, by breed.

The top ten breeds for cesareans were:

  • Boston Terrier (92.3%) (#19 AKC breed in 2009)


  • Bulldog (86.1%) (#7 AKC breed in 2009)


  • French Bulldog (81.3%) (#24 AKC breed in 2009)


  • Mastiff (64.6%) (#27 AKC breed in 2009)


  • Scottish Terrier (59.8%) (#52 AKC breed in 2009)


  • Miniature Bull Terrier(52.4%) (#125 AKC Breed)


  • German Wirehaired Pointer (47.8%) (#74 AKC breed in 2009)


  • Clumber Spaniel (45.2%) (#128 AKC breed in 2009)


  • Pekingese (43.8%) (#53 AKC breed in 2009)


  • Dandie Dinmont Terrier (41.4%) (#151 AKC breed in 2009)


What's the cost of a c-section on a dog? Anywhere from $500 to $1,200 or more.

There were only seven breeds for which there were no reported cesareans. These were the Australian Silky Terrier, Curly Coated Retriever, German Pinscher, Hamiltonstovare, Irish Terrier, Pharaoh Hound, and the Portuguese Water Dog.


A Logical Conclusion: Chihuahua as Handbag





Reductio ad absurdum.
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Monday, February 22, 2010

The Time Has Come

Tomorrow starts my first round of pediatric high-dose ICE chemotherapy. It'll require 3 nights and four days in the hospital, but Dr. Dailey tells me that it should be "uneventful" and that I'll do well with it. Being in the hospital will allow me to receive the fluids that I'll need and the pre- and post-chemo meds plus super anti-nausea blockers. It's important that I'm monitored for side effects. I'm told that I'll be able to unhook from my port for periods of time so that I can walk around (plus apparently the steroids will make me very restless). I'll have my own room and Dr. Dailey has already told the nurses that I'm coming, that I'm "really nice" and that I work there at Hartford Hospital, so that's a plus! I'm just trying to think of it as a little spa retreat for a few days - on demand cocktails and all.

These past two weeks have been full of preparation. First and foremost was the embryo preservation and the final count is 3 healthy, growing embryos that are now being cryopreserved on a shelf in a secret location until we are ready to use them. We are thrilled at the outcome and so happy that we went through the process. It makes our future even brighter.

I've been walking every single day. Luckily it's been beautiful out so I've been able to get fresh air. On the days when I don't get out before nightfall, I now have a fabulous treadmill on loan from a very generous friend! I've been upping my calorie intake trying to put on some pre-chemo pounds and eating lots and lots of fruits and veggies and au natural foods. I've been reading up on stem cell transplants, watching video blogs and reading about other's experiences, researching my chemo regimen, visualizations, and coping mechanisms. I digested another Dr. Bernie Siegel book and am just about done with Lance Armstrong's "It's Not About the Bike" - very, very inspiring and the book I've most been able to identify with. We share a very similar coping style and mentality and hearing his struggles and triumphs really affirms my beliefs as to the best way to take cancer head on.

Craig and I took a road trip over the four days that we had post-IVF procedure and pre-start of chemo. We went to Philly, a city to which I've never been, and I got to run the actual steps that one of my idols, Stallone, climbed as Rocky, we ate cheesesteaks and explored the Franklin Institute. Then it was on to Virginia/DC to visit my college roomie and her fiancee - two of my favorite people in the whole world. We had a fabulous time just hanging together eating good food, playing Wii, exploring Georgetown, watching the Olympics and marveling at all the spandex over a few beers. They're the kind of friends that you just automatically fall back in sync and comfort with as soon as you see them no matter how long it's been. That was exactly what both Craig and I needed. Plus, I got to fulfill some Matron of Honor duties and help pick out wedding invitations and weigh in on tux choices for their wedding in May, which makes me so happy. We came back recharged and sore from all the belly laughs.

I feel ready for this - as ready as I can be, I suppose. I've packed a bag of comfy clothes and another bag of healthy snacks to counteract the hospital food. I'll be arriving with a little mini cooler and another backpack full of books, magazines, card games, laptop, iPod, crosswords, word searches and various other distraction paraphernalia. I think I'm covered.

Now it's time for what is hopefully a good night's sleep then check-in under "Diamond" at 8 a.m. Maybe there'll be a towel sculpted into the shape of a swan waiting on the hospital bed to greet me.

Old Dog : Joyce Carol Oates



From Old Dog a short piece by Joyce Carol Oates in Where Is Here?

There he lies, in the grass, in his habitual place, waiting for you. It has been years. He is aged, near blind. But he waits. In the grass, in his usual place. For you.

He is part collie and part German shepherd. His fur has coarsened and feels like wires, dry and unforgiving, to the touch. Its luster has long since faded; it’s that drab dun color of a deer’s winter coat. He is lying, forelegs extended, shoulders and head quivering erect. His eyes are rheumy, as if covered with a thin film of mucus. His muzzle is gray, his lower lip unnaturally swollen. From time to time his nose twitches and his ears prick up alertly at imaginary sounds; actual sounds, less loud and immediate, he is less likely to hear.

He has become an old dog, you would hardly recognize him now. The bony haunches, the lusterless eyes, ribs showing through his fur. When he’d been a puppy, his small eager body was charged as if with electricity; he seemed never to sleep, nor even to rest. His eyes shone with a doggy intelligence and good will. His feelings were easily hurt but his hurts easily forgotten. He loved you above all things, and has never outgrown that love. You were his fate, you alone. Though this was not a fate you would have acknowledged.
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