Separation Anxiety

We just returned from Aunt Eva's, where Ripken and Parker will spend the week while Monkey and I are in Colorado. This is a big occasion, since it will be Parker's first separation from us since we got him. How will he handle it? If his reaction to our leaving him at Aunt Eva's is any indication, he doesn't seem to mind one bit. This might be due to the fact that he has two other dogs to play with there (not including Ripken), or that he immediately jumped on a sofa when he got there and was not scolded. He thinks he is in doggy heaven. He's not worried, at all.

I am worried. I am not worried for my dog's safety or well-being. Aunt Eva will take good care of him. What I am worried about is that when we get back in a week, the little bit of progress we made in the last five months teaching this creature how to behave in our home will be lost. He won't get training sessions this week, and Eva and Monkey and I did not sit down and have an exhaustive talk about what differences there are between her rules and ours. But, I have a good idea. Going to Aunt Eva's is like going to Grandma's when you're a kid. The boys will be indulged.

And like any father, I am not going to begrudge them that. But I know that when Ripken comes home, as much fun and sacking out on the bed as he enjoyed, he will know that the dog bed is where he sleeps, and the living room sofa is off limits. I wouldn't be surprised if Parker immediately runs to the nearest piece of furniture and starts tearing it to pieces.

We'll see.

Puppy Teeth

As we settled down to sleep the other night, I kept hearing a slightly disconcerting sound coming from the vicinity of Parker's crate. A sort of tinny rattling would periodically come from the corner where the dog sleeps, almost like a small screw was being tossed around by a playful canine. I got out of bed to investigate and found that Parker was indeed playing with a foreign object. However, that foreign object was one of his back teeth, which had apparently fallen out either just that moment, or some other previous moment he was in the crate. He seemed a bit miffed to lose his tiny, new toy, but after I removed it, he only paused a moment before starting to gnaw on his rubber bone with teething-puppy gusto!

So, another milestone. And, perhaps more importantly, a preliminary answer to an earlier question. In the last few days, Parker has started to develop that tell tale puppy breath. Granted, it is nowhere near the radioactive scent experience that Ripken's exhalations are, but the little one is beginning to develop a grown up dog breath profile. Is it a coincidence that this is occurring as his permanent teeth are coming in? I would bet not. I am curious to find out if this change in mouth emissions is temporary, or the first step down Smelly Dog Breath Road.

Doggy Dreams

It is highly likely that dogs dream in their sleep. I have watched Ripken as he kicks his legs in a prone running motion. I have heard him woof and watched his ears twitch. Occasionally, his tail wags in his sleep. Parker, as well, and, it seems, far more frequently, displays dreaming-like behavior. His breathing becomes irregular, his legs move, his tail wags, he whines and barks, and he shimmies like he has St. Vitus' Dance. In both of them, it is rather cute.

No one can know what dogs are dreaming of, of course. They can't tell us; they can't draw a picture. I suppose, with a long period of training on yes/no responses (one paw scrape for "yes," two for "no") to simple questions, followed by exhaustive Q and A sessions that might transcribe like the most involved game of Twenty Questions ever, researchers might be able to sort out the most basic of canine dreams. (Imagine: "Was it a good dream dream?" One paw scrape. "Okay. Were you chasing?" Two paw scrapes. "Hmmmm. Were you in a car?" One paw scrape. "Great. Were you hanging your head out the window?" Two paw scrapes. "Alright. Were you driving?" One paw scrape. "Excellent.")

Some theorize that the human dream world is populated by symbols. If I dream of a dog, it has a meaning, depending on whether the dog is healthy or dead, happy or chewing on my leg, behaving or tearing up my sock drawer. This begs the question of whether or not dogs dream in symbols. (I know I am out of my element here, but that has never stopped me before, so I am just going to plunge in on this one.) A dream is a dream, be it a dog dream or a person dream. It is instigated by the same neural processes, I imagine. So, I suspect that there is no intrinsic difference between the dream I had last night (which I no longer recall) and the dream Parker is having right now (complete with a moan and a head bob). Thus, if my dreams and my dogs' dreams are formed of the same elements (theoretically, since they really don't seem to be formed of anything, at all), then their dreams have the same symbolic significance as mine (i.e., either none whatsoever, or total).

The question, for me, is whether the archetypes are the same between the species. It would seem to me that a dog attaches a different sort of significance to things in the world than a person. After all, a dog's world is presumably much smaller than a person's. (At least, the world it is aware of. A dog is like Herodotus of the fifth century BC: the world consists of the Mediterranean and the land around it. That's it. The rest is ocean or vaguery.) In that vein, the symbolism has to be abridged, also, doesn't it?

So, for me, a dream about chewing on a shoe would add up to what? According to some, eating symbolizes the intake of new ideas. Okay. Shoes, it has been theorized might represent one's beliefs, the ground upon which you travel (spiritually, philosophically, what have you). So, a dream about eating shoes might symbolize my reaffirmation of my personal dogma. I am ingesting the same tried and true beliefs.

Well, what about a dog dreaming of eating a shoe? A dog eats everything, doesn't it? It seems to be the primary way that a dog (especially a puppy) interacts with the world. It is solace, recreation, and investigation in the life of a dog. Perhaps eating in a dream (for a dog) is a symbol of enjoyment, contentment. The shoe is clearly a symbol of wealth. Dog's have no need for shoes (products available at your local PetCo not withstanding). Therefore, shoes are a luxury. So, for a dog, a dream of eating shoes is a reaffirmation of its contentment living in the luxurious surroundings in which it finds itself: a house, abundant food, companions.

There is, also, the other possibility: that we're both just eating a shoe. Dream on, puppy dogs, dream on!

Shortcomings of the Lunar Calendar

Monkey and I recently had a discussion prompted by a new sign post in the life of our Super Puppy. On Wednesday of next week, P. Parker will be 20 weeks old. I mistakenly referred to his coming age marker as "five months." You know: one month equals four weeks, twenty weeks equals five four-week periods, so five months. Monkey of course says no. Her age gauge says that Parker will not be five months until July 24--a full ten days after Parker's twenty week birthday, and somewhere in the middle of his twenty-second week (will he be 21 1/2 weeks?)!

My solution was to recognize his five month birthday on Wednesday, leading up (twenty-eight weeks (seven months?) later) to his twelve-month birthday at forty-eight weeks (approximately the middle of January), and then recognize his one year birthday on February 24, 2011. I thought it was a brilliant solution, but Monkey, always with one eye on the calendar, one eye on her watch, and one eye on her laptop (don't ask me how she does that with only the two eyes), won't go for that.

So, ho hum, Parker will be twenty weeks on Wednesday next...but he will not be five months old. Calendars, with all their extra days and savings times and leap years and Canada Day, they are strange.