Espy @ 10 weeks

Espy @ 10 weeks

Friday, November 29, 2013

Rico and Renae

A long story about a Bouv named Rico, but worth the time to read.

IF YOU WANT TO CAUSE A COMMOTION in any psychology department or any other place where animal and human behaviour is studied, all that you have to do is to claim that your dog loves you. Skeptics, critics, and even some ardent supporters will pour out into the halls to argue the pros and cons of that statement. Among the skeptics you will find the veterinarian Fred Metzger, of Pennsylvania State University, who claims that dogs probably don't feel love in the typical way humans do. Dogs make investments in human beings because it works for them. They have something to gain from putting so-called emotions out there. Metzger believes that dogs "love" us only as long as we continue to reward their behaviours with treats and attention. For most dog owners, however, there is little doubt that dogs can truly love people.
Take the story of Rico and Renae. Rico was a Bouvier des Flandres. At the time of this story, Rico was three years old and Renae was his eleven-year-old companion. Rico had been given to Renae when he was ten weeks old, and she immediately bonded with him, petting him, hand-feeding him, teaching him basic commands, and letting him sleep on her bed. Whenever she was not in school, the two were always together and within touching distance. The family would often fondly refer to the pair as "R and R." Renae was a relatively timid and shy girl, and as the dog grew in stature he brought her a sense of security. When Rico was next to her she felt confident enough to meet new people and to go to unfamiliar places. Rico took on the roles, not only of friend and confidant, but also of defender. When encountering strangers, he would often deliberately stand in front of Renae, as a sort of protective barrier. He seemed to be without fear, such as once when Renae was about to enter a store and two large men dressed in biker outfits burst out of the door, yelling at the shopkeeper and nearly knocking Renae over. Rico rushed forward, putting himself between the frightened girl and the two threatening men. He braced himself and gave a low rumbling growl that carried such menace that the men backed off and gave the child and her guardian a wide berth.
There was, however, one flaw in Rico's armour. It was a fear of water that was so extreme that it was almost pathological. Rico's fears stemmed from his puppyhood, when, at the age of seven weeks, he was sold to a family with an adolescent child. The boy had emotional problems and acted as if the attention bestowed on the new puppy somehow meant that he was less important. In a jealous rage, he put the puppy in a pillow case, knotted the top and threw it into a lake. Fortunately, the boy's father saw the incident and managed to retrieve the terrified puppy before it drowned. He scolded the boy and returned to the house. The next day the horrified parent saw his son standing waist-deep in the lake trying to drown the struggling puppy by holding him under water. This time Rico was rescued and returned to the breeder for his own safety. These early traumas made water the only thing that Rico truly feared. When he came close to a body of water, he would try to pull back and seemed emotionally distressed. When Renae would go swimming in the lake, he would pace along the shore trembling and whimpering. He would watch her intently and would not relax until she returned to dry land.
One late afternoon, Renae's mother took R and R to an upscale shopping area. It was located along the edge of a lake and featured a short wooden boardwalk which was built along the shore over a sharp embankment that was 20 or 30 feet above the surface of the water. Rene was clomping along the boardwalk, enjoying the way the sounds of her footsteps were amplified by the wooden structure. It was then that a boy on a bicycle skidded on the damp wooden surface, hitting Renae at an angle which propelled her through an open section of the guard rail. She let out a shriek of pain and fear as she hurled outward and down, hitting the water face down, and then floating there unmoving. Renae's mother was at the entrance of a store a hundred feet or so away. She rushed to the railing shouting for help.
Rico was already there, looking at the water, trembling in fear, and making sounds that seemed to be a combination of barks, whimpers, and yelps all rolled into one. We can never know what went through that dog's mind as he stood looking at the water-the one thing that truly terrified him and that had nearly taken his life twice. Now here was a frightening body of water that seemed about to harm his little mistress. Whatever he was thinking, his love for Renae seemed to overpower his fear and he leapt out through the same open space in the rail and plunged into the water. One can thank the genetic programming that allowed the dog to swim without any prior practice, and he immediately went to Renae and grabbed her by a shoulder strap on her dress. This caused her to roll over so that her face was out of the water and she gagged and coughed. Despite her dazed state she reached out and managed to cinch her hand in Rico's collar, while the dog struggled to swim toward the shore. Fortunately the water was calm, they were not far from shore, and Rico quickly reached a depth where his feet were on solid ground. He dragged Renae until her head was completely out of the water, and then stood beside her, licking her face, while he continued to tremble and whine.
It would be several minutes before human rescuers would make it down the steep rocky embankment, and had it not been for the courageous Bouvier, they surely would have arrived too late. Renae and her family believe that it was only the big dog's love of the little girl that caused him to take what he must have considered a life-threatening action.
This certainly casts doubt on Dr. Metzger's theory that dogs don't love us but act only out of self-interest. Why should Rico behave in a way that he certainly felt would risk his life? Surely, if he was evaluating the costs and benefits of his actions then he would have known that, even in Renae's absence, the rest of the family would be around to feed him and take care of needs.
Marc Bekoff, a behavioural biologist at the University of Colorado, has a different interpretation. He notes that dogs are social animals. All social animals need emotions, in part as a means of communication-for instance you need to know to back off if another animal is growling. More importantly, however, emotions keep the social group together and motivate individuals to protect and support each other. Bekoff concludes that strong emotion is one of the foundations of social behaviour and is the basis of the connection between individuals in any social group, whether it is a pack, a family or just a couple in love. Recent research has even identified some of the chemicals associated with feelings of love in humans. These include hormones such as oxytocin, which seems to help people form emotional bonds with each other. One of the triggers that causes oxytocin to be released is gentle physical touching, such as stroking. Dogs also produce oxytocin, and one of our common ways of interacting with dogs is to gently pet them, an action that probably releases this hormone associated with bonding. If dogs as social animals have an evolutionary need for close emotional ties, and they have the chemical mechanisms associated with loving, it makes sense to assume that they are capable of love, as we are. Rico's fear of the water was absolute, and never did abate. He continued to avoid it for the rest of his life and no one ever saw him so much as place a foot in the lake again.

No one, at least not Renae or her family, ever doubted his love for her. He lived long enough to see an event occur which would not have happened had he not cared for her as much as he did. When Renae graduated from high school, she posed for a photo in her cap and gown. Beside her sat a now much older Bouvier. The smiling girl had an arm around the dog, and her hand was cinched in his collar, as it was the day that Rico unambiguously showed her just how much he loved her.

From FB's Bouvier Des Flandres Appreciation group.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Thanksgiving 2013

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends.


With a little telekinesis I can move that turkey to my bowl.

Friday, November 22, 2013

Great Video of some cousins working

A pair of Bouv's with natural ears and tails doing obedience, Schutzhund, and carting.  The You Tube video is here; Nutty Bouviers



Thanks Sonja du Plessis May for posting on FB's Bouvier Appreciation Group.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

'nobody Touches Me With Impunity' a repost of an earlier entry

That is the warning, in Latin, that is posted over Robert Abady's kennel. It refers to the fierce Bouvier des Flandres guard dogs he raises, but the motto might well be Abady's own.

This is a long article about Robert Abady and his Bouv's.  The article is available at Sports Illustrated archives

Some excerpts: 
[1]



The bouvier des Flandres, native to Belgium, the Netherlands and northern France, is a shaggy, bearlike dog with cropped ears and tail and a heavy beard. In Belgium a show 
championship cannot be awarded to a bouvier unless it has won a prize for tracking or as an army, police or guard dog. The male is big, up to 140 pounds, very strong and agile. It is a good jumping breed. A bouvier holds the world record for scaling a wall: 16 feet. Originally bred in Flanders to herd cattle -bouvier literally means cattle dog -the dog is supposed to be of calm temperament. "The bouvier does not have a chip on his shoulder," says Abady's wife, Isabel, an assistant professor of French at Vassar. "He does not want to be nasty. He is gentle and friendly and marvelous with children. He is only aggressive when someone threatens his people or his property. Our kennel motto is Nemo me impune lacessit [Nobody touches me with impunity] The bouvier protects not because he’s vicious, but because he is your dog. He does what is needed."

As an example of the dog's measured response to a situation, Abady cites the time a plumber came to his house a day late when no one was at home. "There were seven dogs in the house," Abady recalls, "and the plumber was pinned to the living-room wall for eight or nine hours. When we came in, he was ashen. The dogs didn’t hurt him, they just wouldn’t let him move even though he was only a foot and a half away from the door. Of course, he should have come the day he said he would."





[2]
Then there was the time Abady went into Manhattan with Picot, an untrained year-old male.  "I took him into the Figaro, a coffeehouse in Greenwich Village," Abady says. "You could take a dog in there, eat, drink coffee and play chess in a relaxed atmosphere.  A guy who seemed about eight feet tall and wearing an orange motorcycle suit came in and sat at the next table. He ordered a hamburger and French fries.  Picot was, curled up at my feet. When this guy's order came, he got up and leaned across me to get the ketchup.  It was a very irritating and insolent gesture, as though he wanted to pick a fight.  I did nothing.  Shortly after that, he came back for the pepper and salt.  I did nothing.

As he was eating, he dropped one or his French fries on the floor and kicked it toward Picot.  I kicked it back.  He kicked again.  I picked it up and said, "Don't feed the dog without the owner's permission."  I threw the French fry back at him and, by accident, it landed on his plate.  Get the picture?  He stands up and pushes the table aside.  I stand, and suddenly I hear this high-pitched shriek from this huge guy.  I didn't know what was going on.  The place was absolutely still, and all I wondered was how a big guy, an enormous guy like this, could scream in such a high voice.

"What had happened was Picot had grabbed the guy by the hand. The guy fell over a banister, his hand bleeding, rushed into the bathroom and then shot out of the Figaro.  There wasn't a sound in the restaurant.  Not a sound.  It was eerie.  I didn't know what to say.  Should I offer to pay his check?  The waitress comes over, silently gives me my check, I pay and I leave with Picot.  I didn't know whether I could ever go back, but a few weeks later a friend of mine went in there and he told me, "Hey, there's this legend about this guy who went into the Figaro with a bear!  And the bear tore this motorcyclist guy apart!  The guy was all covered with blood after the bear chewed him up, and they had to carry him on a stretcher to an ambulance."  It tuned out the manager was delighted, because motorcyclists had made the place a hangout and annoyed his customers.

[3]

Although Abady has a poor opinion of the showing, he regards attack training as superb sport.  His only difficulty is finding a steady supply of "villains."  A villain is the fellow who serves as the bouvier's object of attack.  He should weigh at least 200 pounds, because a hurtling bouvier can easily knock down a lighter man.  Once the villain is knocked flat, the dog can burrow underneath the protective suit and do severe. damage.  "You find villains anywhere you can get them," Abady says, "Anyone who talks big and thinks he has guts.  We pay $4 an hour, but when a villain sees an enraged dog coming at him for the first time, he wants to raise the price." 

Me and the Curmudgeon that shares the house.

This is Gunner, mom & dad's rescue.  He appears to be part Briard.  He is estimated to be 8 years old and has been with us for a little over a year.  He is constantly in motion so dad has been unable to get a decent photo of him.  The photo was taken by Amanda Donohue, dad's niece.  If you are in the Alexandria, Virginia area check out her link.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Another Bouv My Size

Meet Kingston owned by Jean Marie DiLoreto, I am just a little larger.

2nd Annual Harpers Ferry Bouv Walk

I met a few new friends at Harper's Ferry.  That me near the middle, dad has blue jacket and orange cap.

2nd Annual Bouv Walk

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Lunch at Hooter's Bradenton, FL

Mom and dad traveled to Bradenton, Gunner and I got to go.  They had lunch at Hooter's where I got to meet one of the waitresses.


Dad talked to a local rancher who worked Aussies, he was impressed that I was a cattle dog.