I can’t believe how fast this winter went by! Our season in the sun was great, except for one very sad thing — I lost my best friend on Marco — sweet little Gracie. She crossed that rainbow bridge this winter and I will furever miss her. ❤️ Here’s a photo of us when we were just pups.

Other than that, we enjoyed the usual: Walks along the Cape, visiting with other doggies and humans and playing Frisbee in our big yard area (not allowed, but Momma picks and chooses the rules we follow). We did not do agility as Momma was still nursing her hurt foot — although I noticed it did not stop her from playing golf. Just woofin’.

I had my usual village of caregivers, starting with Gunnar, Momma’s great-nephew. Momma really played the injured foot/boot card with him, and he was my go-to human for potty for about a week. Momma also enlisted the help of her niece, Celia, during her stay, even though, as far as I could tell, the boot was ancient history by then. Thank you Gunnar and Celia!

I also spent time at Camp Bow Wow in Naples. They were terrific and those camp counselors took some pawmazing photos!

Most of my care and walks were done, though, by my trusty sitter/walker, Janice. She is so sweet and loves me bunches, and always sends Momma pictures of me like these below!

And one day I even had a substitute walker named Len! Len and his wife, Barb, are Momma’s friends and when Janice couldn’t make it over, Barb volunteered Len (get this: so Momma and Barb could go golfing!). Len did a great job and sent Momma this photo without her even asking!

So you can see, I was well cared for. Momma even did her best to brush (and I use the term loosely) my teeth. She was very dogmatic about it, methodically going over my eleven remaining teeth — except for the one she still hasn’t located. Momma’s friend, Lori Ufken, captured these pics of me enduring my nightly torture. It looks like a real Sit Stay Pray moment, doesn’t it?

BARK Air!

The trip home went okay, except there was the usual commotion like when my carrier wouldn’t fit under the seat in front us. Luckily no one objected (and no social media post gone viral moments) when Momma plopped us down in someone else’s seat.

But really, dear readers, I’ve had enough of this under-the-seat crap, and plan on an exciting new mode of transportation next year! Luckily, our friend, Lori McCahey, sent me a link to a fabulous new doggie airline — BARK Air! It’s a real dream-liner and you can check it out at https://air.bark.co! Does it get any better than this? I can’t wait to pre-order my dog food and beverage of choice such as water and bone broth. And get this — we will be served our beverages during takeoff and landing maneuvers to avoid discomfort caused by cabin pressure changes.

I’ve also read that BARK Air will have other goodies on board including calming aids such as music and lavender scented refreshment towels. Also, BARK’s concierge will have calming treats and poop bags should we need them. And guess what — no gates, no crates and no annoying security lines. Can’t you just picture me now? Maybe I’ll even bring Momma along as a support human. And if she plays her cards right, I won’t even make her ride under the seat in front of me.

Lina, Time for fur to fly

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

Now that it’s pretty clear that President Biden will be the Democrat candidate for president in 2024, I think it’s high time I announce that I will be chair of the #BowWows4Biden brigade again this year. (You’ll have to excuse Momma’s frequent interjections as she is very touchy on this subject.)

As you can see, I am wearing my Joe scarf from 2020. This is because Momma refused to get me a new one. (“Beggars can’t be choosers, Lina; besides it’s vintage.”) (Like you, Momma?)

I am quite excited to support Joe again this time around for many reasons. First, I know he is a dog person. (“If by dog person, you mean someone whose dogs regularly bite secret service agents, I guess you’re right.”) Also, I know that President Biden is always for the underdog and I can count on him for free food if need be. (“Right on that count, too! Where do we apply?”) And woof has it that the Biden Administration is even considering an animal-friendly regulation strengthening standards for public handling, training of personnel and environmental enrichment. (“Clearly, the world is going to the dogs.”)

I know that President Biden would definitely support my doggie woke agenda cuz he himself is very woke. And I can’t imagine he won’t stand up for doggie rights in the face of centuries of oppression. In fact, I would go so far as to woof that he might be in favor of repawrations in the form of millions of doggie treats. (“No doubt.”)

And if I get a place in President Biden’s cabinet — maybe a new agency called Department of Doggie Rights? — my first priority will be suffurage for dogs! This may seem a little far-fetched, but who has better instincts to sniff out a good, honest candidate than a dog? I think a simple paw print on the ballot or a wag of the tail for voting should “do the trick!” (Momma: “As if we don’t have enough voter fraud to deal with already.”)

And so dear readers, anything you could do to help support our #BowWows4Biden cause would be appreciated. As many of you know, I’ll have my work cut out for me in the radical red state of Florida. To that end, I do some pawliticing every day when I walk Momma around the Cape. It will be a relief when we return to Minnesota in April, where I can probably take the rest of the year off. (“You are the perfect Democrat, Lina.”).

Lina, Pounding the pavement for Joe!

WOOFDA!

Now that I’ve got Momma trained (please see the Woof Wokeness post at https://linasdogblog.com/2024/01/12/a-problem-free-trip-and-woof-wokeness/), things are going a lot more smoothly around here. 

I especially like it when Momma asks if it’s okay to pet me, and when (pawrsuant to my instructions, i.e. begging) she gives me treats while she dines. It’s only fair, right? She’s also really good at getting down on all fours to retrieve (sound familiar?) one of my pink balls from under the furniture. And my poop outside. I have even claimed her favorite chair in the TV room, without too much argument from her — and most of the bed. She’s also adapted to my new rules of a 5:30 DST (dog standard time) walkup call.

One final tweek I’ve made to our routines is that I now call the shots when we’re walking on where to go, how far we should go, and how often to stop and what for. If I want to visit with fellow doggos or nice humans, we stop — even if Momma doesn’t want to. If I want to pee, we stop — even if we have already stopped for peeing one hundred times before on the walk. And if I don’t feel like walking, I put on the brakes and get a free ride with guess who. I just wish I would have thought of fighting back against human oppression and supremacy years ago. In any case, no time like the present, and this dog wokeism movement is really getting legs at our house!

And that kind of begs the question, no? Isn’t it high time that all doggos break the bonds of oppression? And who better than me to head up this revolt? As Napoleon himself would say, “if you want a thing done well, do it yourself.” So going forward, fellow canines, I woof that we start with a sit-in (“You’d be good at that, Lina”), until some changes are made. No tricks, no face licks, no greeting at the door, and no obedience until our full doggie rights are recognized, and we are in charge! Think Bone-a-Part. Vive la revolution! 

Lina, Soldiering on

WOOFDA!

Pawscript: Leading a revolution can be such hard work! 

Dear Readers,

To be honest, I thought our flight to Florida might be problematic but we kinda sailed through — no doors flew off and we arrived safe and sound. Things got off to a good start when, once through airport security, Momma spotted one of those people movers for the aged or mobility challenged (check both boxes here), and we quickly hopped on. Momma was quite pleased when the driver even motored us to a doggie relief station before heading to our gate. (And to my “relief,” it was appropriately not gender specific unlike those old-fashioned human relief stations.)

Upon boarding, a nice flight attendant, noticing Momma’s boot (I think she was exaggerating-limping), helped bring me to our seat and tucked me in place for the ride! Momma, who can’t get the picture out of her mind of the dog who suffocated in the overhead bin a few years ago, frequently interrupted my peaceful sleep to see if I was still breathing. I know, right? Here we are with our driver (note I am keeping a sharp eye on the goings on) and me startled with yet another breathing check during the flight.

At long last, doggie trainers go woke! 

And now, on to a topic near and dear to this Toy Aussie’s heart. A few weeks ago, Momma’s friend, Rita, emailed her a copy of an article from the New York Times (Rita being a fan, Momma not so much), about a dog trainer named Mr. George with some new, long overdue, ideas in dog training. Ideas which mostly put the dog in charge, if you get my drift.

Some right-wing extremists are accusing Mr. George, in advancing his theory that trainers should never cause a dog discomfort, of going woke and creating a cult with a radicalized agenda. They also pawntificate that it’s the people with gender neutral dogs that support these progressive ideas. As one who often lifts her/his back left leg to pee, I embrace that concept! (Momma: “Oh, please, Lina.”)

Mr. George’s program, which is called force-free training or positive reinforcement training (as opposed to those trainers who use corrections) has some aspects that I can really get behind: For example, advocates of positive training recommend that a dog sitting patiently watching his owners (I think caregivers might be a better term) eat dinner should be showered with treats, or that a caregiver should close the curtains to stop a dog from barking at passers-by rather than using corrections, and — this is my favorite — that dogs give consent before being petted, which Mr. George wisely connects to toxic masculinity. See what I mean? (“I don’t, Lina, what does that mean?”)

In closing, dear readers, I think Mr. George is a genius and that it’s about time I start exercising my rights as the alpha in this relationship! Thank you, Rita! I may even throw a bone to Momma and let her pet me once in awhile. 

Lina, Breaking the barriers of oppression!

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

Well, our calm didn’t last for long. A week ago Momma had a tumble that caused this tiny Aussie to take on an even greater role than the emotional support dog I always play.

We were upstairs, and as usual, Momma was engrossed with who knows what on her computer. She had been at it so long that I came up to check on her — and frankly to let her know it was getting close to dinnertime. As usual, she said something placating like, “I’ll be done in a minute, Lina,” then turned back to her screen. 

After a while it was becoming dusk, and she realized she needed to turn on a light so she could check on a password. (I have mine on my iPad, but Momma still lives in the dark ages and has a ten or more page typewritten list of passwords, most of which, she has been warned, have been compromised.) But I dogress.

Momma stood up suddenly to reach for the switch and stepped out with her right foot, which was “sleeping” as it turns out. Actually, the leg/foot wasn’t operational at all, and her foot curled in and down she went. As was her habit, she cried out my name. A few times, in between moans. Luckily I was at the ready, and immediately began circling and licking her face. I even licked her right foot, having determined with my excellent support dog skills that it was where the injury was.

Long story short, Nanny Becky came over and took charge, with me as her assistant. We got Momma all situated in a bed downstairs and I went off to a blessed night of peace at Nanny’s house. Next day they left me to tend the home fires (not real fires this time, thankfully), and drove to Tria Orthopedic Center in Bloomington. Tria is great, and it did not take long for the doctor to determine that Momma had a couple of fractures and some sprained ligaments. And I would not be exaggerating to woof that both Momma and Nanny loved Dr. Jones. I don’t think Momma really needed to tell him he was “straight out of central casting,” though, do you? After the doctor visit (who pawmazingly said he gets at least one patient visit a month from a foot “sleeping” accident), Momma was fitted with a boot, and they headed home.

What do you think — Momma kinda likes the look of the boot and finds it garners her sympathy and attention and better service when she’s out and about. Which is good because she must wear it for 4 – 6 weeks.

To speed the process along, for both of our sakes, I continue to provide aid and comfort for my charge. And I’m thinking about loaning myself out to Tria as part of their medical team. Maybe I’ll woof to Dr. McDreamy about it.

I just can’t wait to see how our trip to the airport and Florida goes. I’ll be stuck in the carrier and can only give her support through mental telepathy I guess. I’m also thinking Momma will, for once, hop on one of those electric carts for transporting passengers with mobility issues. And this year she won’t be tempted to accuse the driver of agism when he offers her a ride. Just woofin’. Don’t worry, I’ll spread the charm and all will be well.

Lina, Bone fide support dog

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

Over the years you have heard me woof about #agility. About how I love the training as it stimulates me physically and mentally. It is a fun sport, but requires some thinking and intuitive and on-the-spot decision making. Especially where I am concerned.

Let me tell you more: Agility training is done is a huge arena with all kinds of colorful and inviting obstacles. They include jumps, tunnels, weave poles, the dog walk, the A-frame, the tire, the teeter, and the paws table!

Momma and I have been training now for about six years, both in Minnesota and Florida. “Running the course” takes some skill by both (probably mostly) handler and doggie. This will explain why, from almost the very beginning, Momma would “beg” the trainer to be my handler. In other woofs, she could tell she would have a lot to learn, and had her own “obstacles” to overcome.

But, alas, trainers in both states said no, and Momma had to learn to lead me through the courses all on her own. Sometimes it works better than others. Let me give you a snapshot of a typical day at Agile Canines Training School in St. Louis Park, Minnesota, the school run by our Minnesota trainer, Annelise Allan.

Momma and I usually arrive early for our class, which is intermediate level and includes three or four or five other owners and their dogs. Or should I woof owners and their masters, which from what I can see is more the case. [Smiling and doggie emojis.] This is so we are not rushed and I have a chance to go both potties. I can tell that Momma lives in fear that I might have to go in the arena thus adding to the stress I can tell she is already under.

After all the doggies are placed into crates outside of the arena, the handlers join Annelise for a walk through of our first course for the day. It has a lot of obstacles (usually between 14 and 20), and it is not numbered. Sometimes when Momma is in a jocular mood I can hear her ask Annelise where the numbers are. [Scattered chuckles.] Momma is only half kidding.

Momma quickly sizes up the course situation to see how comfortable we might be with the obstacles, and more importantly, the height at which the bars are placed for jumps. I am the only dog who jumps at 8″ in our class, so Momma is always relieved when they are initially set higher for bigger dogs. This means we won’t go first, and will give Momma more time to learn.

Anyway, back to class. After Annelise explains the course, the handlers start at the beginning and walk it, practicing various options for successfully guiding us through it. Momma usually makes sure she is following the group so she knows where to go next and can copy some other handler moves. One area that is problematic for Momma is the crosses handlers use to turn us in the right direction. She has finally picked up on the front and blind crosses, but the rear one still eludes her. And I think she’s still wondering if there might be a double. And as you might guess, I therefore often have to adjust on the run and make my own decisions about where to go next. But the good news? Every time Momma makes a mistake, I get a “screw up” cookie. And guess who gets the most screw up cookies of all? Just woofin’.

So, Momma and I muddle through, sometimes we even have a doggone good run and I go like lightning! And then all the other handlers cheer for me as if I’d just won a national championship. (I think they have a soft spot in their heart for the little Aussie to be honest.) And it’s all good, especially when Annelise yells at Momma to give me “lots of cookies!!!” at the end of a run.

So just in case you were curious, that’s what we do! And so you know, Momma and I used to do trials, but decided for a number of reasons we weren’t competition material (for example I puked in the crate once waiting for a run, and we both hated hanging around all day, me in the crate, Momma fretting). Anyway, here is what a typical course looks like on paper. This is from a competition in 2021, and you can see Momma’s plan of attack for one of our runs. I see that Momma has scribbled X? (front? blind? rear?) a couple of times — which means I better be ready for anything.

I have attached a video of one of my best runs so you can see how the obstacles actually look in the arena.

So even though I’ve hung up my competition leash, I still have fun as one of the dogs still in the arena.

Lina, Still diggin’ it!

Woofda!

Dear Readers,

As Thanksgiving approaches, I would like to share some of my many blessings with you, my loyal followers.

First of all, I’m thankful I’m still standing. As I may have mentioned before, Momma was not an experienced doggie parent, so there was a lot of trial and (mostly) error in the beginning. As you can imagine, there has been a giant learning curve for Momma, and I’ve had a big job training her. All is calm for now, however, and I’ve even taken down my “Dog for Sale” sign. See https://linasdogblog.com/2017/06/23/the-last-straw/ or Chapter 10 of Sit Stay Pray for more on that.

Second, I’m thankful I’m still able to eat even though I’m down to eleven teeth. It goes without woofin’ that this is especially true when trying to wolf down turkey at Thanksgiving time.

Third, I’m thankful for help from my caregivers, and as my hero Hillary says, it does take a village! Nanny Becky, Dr. Becca and Janice (in Florida) are always ready to step into the breach when Momma is away, and I must admit, I enjoy the peace and calm and stability they provide. Om.

Fourth, I am thankful that I still have some of the same furry friends I met when I was just a pup, including Auntie Rachel’s dog, CoCoa, Dr. Becca’s dog, Winnie, and Anne’s dog in Marco, Gracie! Old friends are the besties!

Fifth, I am thankful that Momma no longer feels it’s necessary to bring me to the vet every week. I get a little tired of the unnecessary prodding and probing, and I am quite sure that our pet insurance company is happy, if not broke, by now.

Sixth, I am thankful for the activities I get to enjoy including playing catch, long walks, agility, boarding with Momma, and doggie games and puzzles. I still remember when I got to herd sheep very early on in my life — although Momma was so nervous about it that I was always on a long lead, lest I get trampled. Just think what I could have done if I was really Lina Unleashed!

Finally, I am thankful for you, dear readers. I am happy to report that I have now written over 200 posts, my site has had over 40,000 views and over 14,400 visitors. If I learn that you especially like one of my posts, I am filled with gratitude and joy. (So is my ever-watchful Momma!)

Momma and I hope you a joyous Thanksgiving filled with your favorite treats. And woofing of treats, here’s a photo from our 2023 holiday pictures taken by Laurie Erickson (https://laurieerickson.photography). Doesn’t she do a pawsome job? And a big woof-out to our friend, Lori, for our festive Christmas sweaters.

Lina, Appreciative Aussie

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

As you may have noticed, I’ve been a little quiet lately. I had eighteen teeth removed in September and I was one miserable little dog for quite a while.

It’s hard to keep a good dog down, though, and now I’m healed and feel better than I have in like forever. One might say I have a new leash on life. And not to point any paws, but one thing Momma learned from this experience is that no tooth is better than a bad tooth. She had really “dug in”against a removing a bunch of my teeth before, especially the front ones, thinking that it would result in my tongue permanently hanging out of my mouth (“and how would that look, Lina?”). Thankfully, wiser heads prevailed, I got rid of the bad teeth and my tongue does not hang out (unless I’m sticking it out at Momma when she’s not looking — but don’t tell her).

So life goes on — I’m back at agility, back fetching my Frisbee, visiting with my friends and going to day care at Camp Bow Wow. And I bet the Camp counselors there like my personal enrichment one-on-one time with them much better without my stinky breath. Here I am playing ball with one of them!

For her part Momma is doing everything she can to save my few remaining teeth (and avoid another huge bill to be honest). She is adding TropiClean fresh breath solution to my water dish, carefully measuring out 5 ml in one of her shot glasses every morning and adding it to one cup of water. She is also giving me a Teenie Greenie every other day to prevent plaque and tartar buildup and as a treat to me. She decided against giving me one every day because each bone has 25 calories. God forbid I gain an ounce. Here I am enjoying one! You will see two of my remaining teeth sticking out.

Then there’s the part that’s a little problematic — Momma wiping my remaining eleven teeth once or twice a day with pre-moistened, honey flavored, textured wipes that fit over one of her fingers. Actually, to be honest, she only wipes ten teeth clean because she still has not located the eleventh one, but knows it’s there from the diagram the vet gave her. Any ideas from you, dear readers, would be welcome, cuz I would not look forward to another extraction.

Boo!

One of the highlights of my fall was having Doctor Becca and Winnie stay with me for a week when Momma went off galavanting in Florida. Winnie and I are still great friends and love playing tug of war. (Momma was secretly cringing when she saw this video, hoping I wouldn’t lose any more teeth, but luckily Becca knows what she’s doing.)

Dr. Becca (Perpetual Motion) and Jenny Gott (Animal Intuition) had a Howl-O-Ween pawrty at their offices, the Saturday before Halloween, and here are Winnie and me in full costume! Note that Winnie is wearing a skeleton t-shirt in keeping with her momma’s career as a chiropractor. And note that I am wearing an astronaut costume in keeping with Momma’s life as a space cadet. (Did I just woof that out loud?)

Seriously though, I am wearing an astronaut outfit that Momma bought me when she was tweeting @elonmusk asking if I could be the first support dog on one of his SpaceX rockets. Guess we still have not heard from him on that one.

Luckily Becca did not make me wear my “space helmet” that Momma tried on me. Seriously?

Winnie and I also enjoyed some down time with Becca at home and a beautiful fall walk. I think I’m all better now.

Lina, One dog whose bark is definitely worse than her bite

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

After my latest dental prophylaxis (or as I like to call it, torture), I have eleven teeth left. But, don’t you worry, dear readers, I may be doggie down, but I’m not out. I can still take sustenance and report to you about life with Momma.

It’s been ruff two weeks, no two ways about it. It all started on September 5, when Momma drove me up to Blue Pearl Vet Hospital, about an hour north of our house. She, of course, had this appointment prearranged but I had no clue what was about to take place. And since I’d always had fun and been fawned over at BP, I was not in the least bit concerned. Here I am happily prancing into one of the waiting rooms, and with Jennifer Ficken, my trusty vet tech. All was cool, right?

Wrong. When they whisked me away from Momma, it dawned on me that I was in trouble. I think it was the fake-cheerful hospital-issue blanket that gave finally gave it away. And even my most pitiful/spare me look did no good.

Later that day, I was put under and (after assurances from my vet, Dr. Edstrom, that my tongue would not permanently be hanging out, and an okay from Momma), I was minus eighteen teeth. And Momma was minus a small fortune. (Don’t forget to mention they gave you a “free” nail trim, Lina,” Momma grumbled.)

When Momma made the voyage to collect me that evening, we were both miserable. Me because, well, mouth surgery, and Momma because she was worried about me and aftercare. After getting instructions from Dr. Edstrom, (keep me away from steps, I may drool blood, try giving me food, administer my pain and anti-inflammatory pills, call if there’s an emergency, etc.), we set out for the long journey home. Momma had placed me in a crate in the back of Sparky and tried not to drive crazy so I wouldn’t throw up. She also had range anxiety because Sparky was running low on charge so she didn’t dare turn the on the air conditioning. Could she not find a hospital closer to home? Or maybe charge the car before she left?

Anyway, we finally made it home, and Momma, pawrsuant to instructions, tried to feed me. Hello? — have you ever tried to eat after having eighteen teeth removed? Momma was at wits end. How would she get me to eat my pills if she couldn’t hide them in my food? Digging deep, she finally remembered that she was supposed to tuck them into a piece of a meat, and that “did the trick.” Here I am wondering what happened to me, and letting Momma know that there were not enough treats in the world for me to forgive her.

I do have to woof, however, that Dr. Edstrom did a pawsome job — my mouth is feeling good, and I’m getting stronger every day! And Momma has been busy reading up on doggie dental care. She has now decided that, no matter what, she will not put me or her pocketbook through this trauma again. She has been busy shopping for Greenie treats, water additives, sprays, gels, toothbrushes, toothpaste and tooth wipes. I don’t know whether I’m relieved or not.

In the meantime, I’ve been getting back to normal, taking walks, playing frisbee, doing agility class and I even went to Camp Bow Wow while Momma golfed on Sunday. Here I am during my personal enrichment time. And no, my tongue does not stick out all the time.

Lina, Recovering but it was close . . .

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

Well, you may think I’ve dropped off the face of the earth, but it’s just that I’ve been too doggone busy to write! Momma has been galavanting around the world, so I’ve been with my beloved Nanny and Uncle Tom. Here are several photos of me with the Griffins, starting with the day Nanny took me for my weekly vet visit (at Momma’s request). All was well.

Now that Momma is home, things are back to “normal.” I get to go out on the pontoon once in a while (although because of global warming, it has been way too hot lately). In the photo at right, I am anxiously waiting for Auntie Cathy, Auntie Rachel and CoCoa(!) for a recent morning breakfast cruise.

And even though I’m getting to be a certain age (a term Momma often uses for cover), I don’t have many physical ailments, although you wouldn’t know it from my constant trips to the vet. Here Dr. Mourning (on the right), a favorite member of my medical team, is examining me last month at the Blue Pearl Clinic.

One visit I never mind is to my pawsome chiropractor, Dr. Becca, (https://perpetualmotionchiro.com). Here I am getting a much needed adjustment due to my rigorous agility training. Bow-WOW! Thank you Dr. Becca for making me all better.

And speaking of my age — tomorrow I turn nine years old! I hope you enjoy this throw-back video of me enjoying my second birthday greeting from Nanny. It really is a must see.

Lina, Celebrating!

WOOFDA!