tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67329067714812482492024-02-20T19:51:46.957-08:00KnarlwoodsKNARLWOODS — NATURAL CLASSROOMS FOR SUSTAINED LEARNINGAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-84332049905177956752012-07-05T10:47:00.000-07:002012-07-13T09:02:16.062-07:00Pitbull Blues - No Jumping for Joy Please!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Four on the Floor Saves Lives</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">In memory of Hemi - </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">7/16/2010 Euthanized</span></div>
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Song - <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQnOn76Uh0o">PitBull Blues by John Shipe</a></div>
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I only had the chance to work with Hemi one time - he was a gentle, fun and fast learner. Friendly. Exuberant.<br />
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Two days after his first class his 'very friendly' jumped on a six-year-old with splayed paws, scratched her face requiring stitches and cost Hemi his life at Animal Control.<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-1869388591349247012012-07-03T19:53:00.000-07:002012-07-13T08:58:19.409-07:00Don't loose your "Good Dog"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfdcc3ckX7w-2xsGxSbxU1zgKE689ao3_E-tP0fMuZqStbgFcYHf6cXkbcNNRiKTyKrXlVLPLRR-bko8zfl7VmMwHMQS1rRokKIoJ7MWHboGUlk1cwGjOI1aJCvEIc-oSJ9ExjJOdKJTw/s1600/lostdog.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498414217522753490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfdcc3ckX7w-2xsGxSbxU1zgKE689ao3_E-tP0fMuZqStbgFcYHf6cXkbcNNRiKTyKrXlVLPLRR-bko8zfl7VmMwHMQS1rRokKIoJ7MWHboGUlk1cwGjOI1aJCvEIc-oSJ9ExjJOdKJTw/s320/lostdog.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Lost Dog?</span><br />
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A sweet girl joined our household for a moment, we hope. Karl and I found her wandering on the highway and brought her home and spent the rest of the day - posting, visiting police, and letting people know about "good girl". Without tags we don't even have a name to call her.<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"I am a sweet loving family member without a voice to tell anyone who I am or where I live. Please make sure you tagged your pets to help people who help your animals find their way home."</span></i><br />
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NO MICRO CHIP - NO NAME TAGS<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Ideas to help find a lost dog.</span><br />
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Make sure your pet has identification - PET'S NAME, PHONE, CITY</li>
<li>Keep a current PET ID form in your car with a picture of you pet and yourself to prove identity</li>
<li>Make a poster of your pet and post in local areas - launder mat, near stop signs</li>
<li>Contact local animal shelters, police, veterinarians and drop off your poster</li>
<li>Post on social media to friends, neighbors and family</li>
<li><a href="http://www.petamberalert.com/lostpetfinder/">Pet Amber Alert </a>- Yes it really does exist.</li>
<li>When you find you pet call and thank the people who helped you.</li>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-90686877807168954842012-05-07T18:15:00.000-07:002012-07-13T08:48:56.554-07:00Putting Your Best Foot Forward<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here is a great training video on Rally foot work - let's get our class off on the right paws....<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-44046048246639586332010-06-28T08:51:00.000-07:002012-11-20T06:18:16.338-08:00Knarlwood's Tips for Tails - WHINING<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">What is my dog saying to me?</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The Knarlwood's poodle pack - Bonnie, Lana, Mak & Pinky - bark out a doggie tip to better your relationship with your furry pal.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuajnnck_D5X6JeOeLU3S5tumnTJH61oezEimCJht3UZTG6z6eg7NPIinN5zgN9af1nFfm3A6Zhj9PpSQXeoe7cO3WjvFK68SuLG6_nc5R7rUA_vR0LeDp7uCxSY3TYvYrsoKYtMC0bw/s1600/bonniemakjr_web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuajnnck_D5X6JeOeLU3S5tumnTJH61oezEimCJht3UZTG6z6eg7NPIinN5zgN9af1nFfm3A6Zhj9PpSQXeoe7cO3WjvFK68SuLG6_nc5R7rUA_vR0LeDp7uCxSY3TYvYrsoKYtMC0bw/s200/bonniemakjr_web.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Bonnie, a red standard poodle asks:</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330099;">"Why do I need to learn PeopleSpeak when most humans don't understand DogSpeak."</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><em>Jodee Kulp, <br />author and certified dog trainer answers with a stretch:</em></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"That's a good question Bonnie, dogs seem to be at a verbal disadvantage when it comes to spoken language. Body language and canine actions definitely speak louder than whines, howls, barks, and growls we humans hear."</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399;">"My noises are as important as words. They can be loud or soft, high or low. My sounds mean different things just like your words and when I mix them with body behaviors humans can learn what I am trying to communicate. Dog whines are a good example."</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Whines?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399;">"Of course, whines express my emotions. When I whine I may be scared, upset, in pain, needy or having a great time."</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399; font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Tell me more about whining, Bonnie."</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399;">"I whined, cried and quit eating when my best dog friend died. That was my I feel really hurt and sad whine. I whined when my human got hurt and pulled on my human dad's sleeve. That was my I'm scared and I need more help whine. And I whined when I hurt my leg. But, not all my whines are when I am scared, upset or in pain."</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"They aren't?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399;">"Nope, if I REALLY have to go potty I might jump around, whine and give my human some nose pokes. That means I need something really bad and I know it is not polite, but sometimes I even whine for a treat or when want to play."</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"Yes, you do, are there more kinds of whines?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333399;">"Well, I purr-whine and groan when my human rubs my belly or Mak kisses or bites me on my neck in the morning. And our pack's favorite whine is a whine-howl when the police and ambulance drive by our house. Mak sings bass, Mama (that's me) sings tenor and Pinky and Lana join right in with alto and saprano. We make quite the neighborhood chorus. It is such fun! Most of us dogs just want to please our pet parents. Whining dogs are not bad dogs, they are dogs with needs."</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"That's interesting, thank you, Bonnie. Next time maybe you can educate us on Barking."</span></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-37106784149789973532010-02-04T09:34:00.000-08:002010-07-18T10:54:38.974-07:00Rocky - A Wrinkle In Time<em>I need a signal of first response to stress - something the family can pick up on too!</em><br /><br />Rocky's entrance on week two was quite different from the previous Thursday, my CGC students still wanted to stay and support this effort. First to learn from the experience, second to have the opportunity to work on skills and friendships. Rocky saw me and wagged his tail. He sat as he came in, we returned to the weaving course and played "follow the trainer." The father now clicking at moments of calm control and was now able to walk in aisles with me coming up to say hello.<br /><br />We moved to a quiet area 25 feet from my neutral dog families. Rocky's stress level increased and I realized the first sign was a subtle wrinkling on the top of his head. If his head muscles drew tight - we were already to level two. Rocky was showing us his first level reaction by the subtle pulsing. Having access to a quiet signal from the top down was valuable for the family. We worked to create the calm before the brain storm. This time I took Rocky for his walk - 20 feet from the neutral dogs (in a penned area) - the method of walking was the same as the weaves, but without the distraction object bowls. Within three rounds he was watching me and waiting for the click instead of reacting. I was beginning to get a relaxtion response. I handed the lead to the father and we played "follow the trainer" around the same paths, by now the CGC canines were playing in their area and ignoring the activity. We always ended in our safe quiet place - sometimes working on sits, downs and lots of relaxtion clicks and treats.<br /><br />Mom, asked to handle Rocky and we played the first "follow the trainer" and then she walked alone. Note the first timing of the game is fast and as we work toward relaxtion we mix up the walk timing - slower, normal, fast. By now Rocky is walking quickly 12 feet from the other dogs (behind penned area). We end the stress work and move back to the fun weave game in the back of the training area.<br /><br />Rocky leaves with no reheasals. We have had 8 outbursts.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-28092972181577268302010-01-28T21:30:00.000-08:002010-02-14T09:53:24.503-08:00Rocky - Hope Instead of Fear Aggression<div align="center"><em>The dogs with the most complex behaviors provide me the most wisdom. </em></div><p><br />Rocky joined my private sessions snarling as he came into my training environment - a 95 lb <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">pitbull</span></span> whose next stop was death. "How can I trust this gentle dog with my 7 year old and family? He is mild and sweet in our home. Yet, he is like <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jeckle</span></span> and Hyde when he sees another dog. Can you do something?"<br /><br />I offered they bring him in from the car. Two <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">CGC</span></span> (canine good citizen) students volunteered to remain in the area chatting and working with their dogs while I worked with Rocky (50 ft distance, but still <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">scent able</span> and out of sight)<br /><br />The family purchased a 15 minute 'test drive the trainer 'session. They were right. He entered as a pulling, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">snarking</span></span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">pit bull</span>. With my pocket full of treats and a clicker to mark calm, I greeted them giving rocky my distance and the family unit a warm welcome. (Note my greeting was not a direct approach but friendly human hellos and canine calming signals as I wove to greet them)<br /><br />Rocky was curious at this strange human walking, head turning, lip licking behavior - He licked his lips, sat down, turned his head to the side and then faced me with a tilted head. I clicked - he tilted his head the other way looking at me. At ten feet, I did not approach further, the family was loaded up with treats and we talked about "walking in a friendly manner." I asked the father if he had control, he did and I asked for a leadership stand, respectful (firm, kind) voice with a "Let's Go." And we walked as I drew closer chatting with the family we went to a quiet area where I set up a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">serpentine</span> course with distractions (4 upside down food dishes) to weave through. We spent the next minutes playing following the leader as I made encouraging sounds walking in front of the weaves - the game was fun, fast and controlled. The dog looking between trainer and father for advice. </p><p>At the end of each course we moved to a quiet place, Rocky sat where we worked on calm response - handlers given stills in attention, and positive training techniques using clicker - observance, click, treat. We practiced this in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">multiple</span> areas and then played "weave with the trainer" again. In addition, I removed myself to pet and get dog licks from my two neutral dogs, returning with scent. Rocky was having fun in a stressful environment, under control and happy. We ended the session with a "no rehearsal of bad behaviors".<br /><br />Come on Rocky, Let's get into the car. With out a peep tail wagging he walked out. End of session one. We had a LONG way to go, but I believed the dog was workable and not ready to be put down. We would work 30 minutes a week for eight weeks. I committed to teach, the family committed to work with Rocky in learning. </p><p>What was interesting is the response from my two neutral dogs in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">CGC</span>. When Rocky first <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">snarked</span>, both dogs <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">bristled</span> on guard (they were 50 feet away) and both dogs wanted to go toward Rocky and not retreat. The handlers of the two CGC students allowed their dogs to play. </p><p>No rehearsal on exit. 25 reactions in 15 minutes. </p><p></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-45708086255655823152009-05-31T12:17:00.000-07:002012-07-13T09:07:09.350-07:00Remember to Care for Each Other<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Positive dog training builds - TRUST and SAFETY to create I DID ITS<br />
which creates more TRUST - more SAFETY and more I DID ITS<br />
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When an animal feels safe and trusting they have the capacity to learn and grow and contribute to your life. Join the movement of paw-sitive training - our canine friends depend on it to prevent aggression.<br />
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Life is filled with challenging days and struggles. It is the relationships in life that truly matter. Our dog partners provide comfort throught life's storms and hold us safe in their furry type of love.<br />
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We in turn must keep them safe and protect them. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-26501285277224676192007-12-09T16:41:00.000-08:002007-12-09T16:43:17.323-08:00A Gift from an Otter<p>Poor old angry bear,</p><p>Torn and tattered,<br /> banged-up head,</p><p>Knocking on brick walls again.</p><p>Rest, my bear friend,<br /> The otters are here,<br /> clinging,</p><p>So you can float free<br />For just a short while.<br />Grab the hand of that small one fuzzy bear,<br /><br />The one you have hugged so often,<br />Hug her again, so she too can rest.</p><p>We will hold you up,<br />We will hold you both.</p><p>Otter Cynthia</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-55154000376633718742007-12-09T16:23:00.000-08:002007-12-09T16:35:21.792-08:00Bear in MindThe bear is back in my mind<br /> a grizzly wrizzly izzly bear<br /> with a flurry of surly wurly feelings<br /><br />that want to grow<br /> and growl<br /> and snarl<br />but they can't<br /> because there is nothing<br /> and nowhere to place<br />the snarly warly barring teeth<br /> feelings so real.<br /><br />I have no fairy wand to wave to make life better<br /> - to change what has been done to 45,000 children a year in this country.<br /><br />Under the hearts of those who may say they love them.<br /><br />I want to shout loud and clear that<br /><br /> DRINKING<br /> while pregnant must stop<br /> and . . .<br /> that the person you are growing matters.<br /><br />That this person matters to me<br /> and to ther others who will love<br /> and care<br /> and hold the little he or she.<br /><br />The bear is back in my mind as I remember when you came<br /> so small,<br /> with arms so thin and legs<br />so small<br /> you were 'bearly' a northing at all<br /><br />except a very big voice.<br /><br />Bear in mind -<br />A growling raging voice proclaiming your incidious beginning.<br />And not yet half a year you vomited every thing you tried to eat<br /> until we found the special foods so you could survive.<br /><br />And the mama bear in my mind went looking for answers<br /> to help you live<br /> and grow.<br />And you did.<br /><br />Bear in mind -<br />A growling raging voice proclaiming you could not be touched<br /> or held<br /> or cuddled<br /><br />and I wanted<br /> a snuggly<br /> wuggly<br /> buggly child<br />who I could hold<br /><br />- and so the mama bear in me found ways to enjoy you<br /> and realize that you loved the best you could<br /><br />- until we learned about how your body worked<br /> and the sensory issues at twelve<br /><br />- how could a mother not know or doctors or others so educated<br />- the bear in mind was there searching<br /> - but not finding<br /> - asking with no answers because I did not have the right questions.<br /><br />Bear in mind -<br /> A growling raging voice proclaiming that fun things to do<br /> were too intense and yet you my child were the most intense of all<br /><br />- and I learned to calm and quiet all the grizzly voices in my mind<br /> and not add energy to energy so you could learn<br /> and grow<br /> and go <br /> and do like other children<br /><br />- and you grew into a giving, loving, forgiving child<br /> woven with the grizzly bears of your mind<br /> we did not understand.<br /><br />Alien in a world I understood that could not understand you.<br /> With media and advertisement undermining all we said<br /> - because they knew<br /> and we didn't<br /> and they were the truth.<br /><br />Oh the bear in my mind wants to pound my chest<br /> and more than growl.<br /><br />Do bears roar?<br /><br />Bear in mind -<br /> You grew<br /> and you grew<br /> and you grew away<br />because<br />we were not who you wanted to be<br /> - could be<br /> - would be<br /><br />The bears in our minds no longer be silent<br />- pushing each other away<br /> with our snarls <br /> and growls<br /> and stares.<br /><br />We were not the MTV family<br /> or the Bratz<br /> or the Glamour girls<br /><br />- we were happy in our litle den<br /> with our close friends<br /> doing close friend things<br /><br />- while you my little cub needed to run and explore what you believed was pots of honey at ends of rainbows that did not exist except in the media of music and video.<br /><br />The bear in my mind watched as you worked your way through your imagination<br /> of Truth with brain injury caused by alcohol to the unborn<br /> - 100% preventable -<br /><br />I asked my child what happens<br /> when you go around the same tree over<br /> and over<br /><br />and in her wisdom she shared.<br /> "I fall down like a nut."<br /><br />I smile.<br />I laugh.<br />And I know there is hope.<br /><br />Bear in mind -<br /><br />I hope you have come to the end of yourself dear little baby bear<br /> - your spirit still intact<br /> - so that it can change the course of history for others<br /> - you my child are one<br /> - only one of many<br /> - too many<br /> - 45,000 a year too many.<br /><br />The bear in my mind wants to hybernate<br /> - to go away and sleep it all off as a bad dream but there must be no hybernation<br /> - we mother and father bears must remain awake.<br /><br />We must embrace the voices of those<br /> 45,000 a year<br /> 450,000 in ten years<br /><br />- we must stand together with all our bears in our minds<br /> and change the course of<br />time.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-50225264101966651232007-11-09T16:09:00.000-08:002007-12-09T16:19:45.611-08:00AUTUMN COLORS OF FETAL ALCOHOLWith the weather changing<br />they wear fall colors<br />in heaven. . . .<br /><br />a bright orange and warm sweatshirt. . .<br />a pair of bright orange and warm pants . . .<br /><br />plodding in slipper<br /> - leaving behind the stupor<br /> laughing with renewed acquaintances<br />who come<br /> and go<br /> when it gets cold<br /><br />warm food<br /> - clean sheets<br /> - a shower<br />for 72 hours a piece of heaven.<br /><br />I watch my daughter and wonder<br />- did you decide to come as you say to protect yourself from yourself and the streets and the bus ride home or were you transported<br /> - like so many others.<br /><br />There is a shipment tomorrow<br /> - some will leave the state hospital awaits its new guests<br /> - guests with thin upper lips and ears not quite right<br /> - guests with beautiful smiles and innocent laughs<br /> - my daughter is the youngest<br /> - most are in for the first cold snap<br /> - Minnesota is hard on the homeless<br /> - those who lost their battle to alcohol before they were born.<br /><br />I look at the faces<br /> - the placement of the eyes<br /> - once innocent now filled with street pain.<br />I look at the scars and gashes and nashes of white streaks<br /> on dark skin and dark streaks on white skin<br /> - scars have no mercy<br /> - they remain.<br /><br />Most are older<br />- perhaps many have children<br /> - how many children<br /> - it is easy to make a child<br /><br />when you are lonely.<br />when you are scared.<br />when you are hurt.<br /><br />It is easy to confuse sex with love.<br /><br />It is easy to hurt a child when you don't understand.<br />Understanding.<br /><br />I understand that my daughter is struggling with deep pain as she says hello to people she<br />met three years ago. She is not afraid of these people<br /> - I have walked with her as before in odd times and odd places<br /> as she recognizes a friendly face<br /><br />- She says hello<br /> - at a clinic or a store<br /> - or perhaps the back alley on the way into church.<br /><br />Had it really been three years since she came up the grey elevator to heaven<br />- for some people<br />- life on earth is a hellish struggle<br /> - yet they laugh<br /> - and smile here.<br /><br />For a blink they are safe and warm and clean and the people who work here are good.<br /><br />Her birth father told her he looks forward to the safety of heaven -<br /><br />She talked to him this time<br />- to let him know she was his daughter<br /> no not yet? will he believe it is really she here<br /> the daughter he gave away.<br /><br />- Perhaps it matters less now.<br /> She knows and understands.<br /> in the span of three years his mind has gone further away<br /> and now once again he is safe <br /> within the structure<br /> and the rules<br />and the walls <br /><br />within the boundaries of the orange clothes<br /> and the grey elevator.<br /><br />Hidden inside the tan building<br /> - surrounded by trees turning orange for autumn - - -<br /><br />the hopeless who pray to turn orange<br /> before the frozen truth is exposed.<br /><br />Who dare explore this truth.<br />Are we smart enough to seek answers.<br /><br />My daughter smiles her beautiful smile.<br /><br />Tomorrow her social worker will pick her up.<br />It will be time to go. . . .<br /><br />Where?<br /><br />when you are lonely.<br />when you are scared.<br /><br />Where?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-217115752092926582007-10-24T07:32:00.000-07:002012-07-13T09:07:54.115-07:00Man's Best Friend - Limey Boy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Ever since our Life in the FASlane <a href="http://www.betterendings.org/FASDCamp2007/">Teen Adult Camp for persons with FASDs (August 3-6, 2007)</a> a young adult with Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders has been working with Knarlwoods to develop a Psychiatric Service Dog Program for FASDs.<br />
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Today is day two of introduction to PSD (Psychiatric Service Dog) training for Limey and his new handler. Yesterday we spent time being a part of the community.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-24957195950572915972007-10-13T11:01:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:21:38.949-08:00BEST ADULT FICTION - TINY TITAN<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwJVpCKjSf2mjuTgcgV_5NpoG9Szwpvvp10li8C5RBfiKO0vl4IupGQhRwN2urW69CDEe0dbhIHMGTXgyud8OQzh3b824E8yqz1hRmq6kgnKfzj6GtWbS2te2OqUEsHQyYopV86O7N18/s1600-h/MCA_Recipient_RGB.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120884084805968834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 138px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px" height="198" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwJVpCKjSf2mjuTgcgV_5NpoG9Szwpvvp10li8C5RBfiKO0vl4IupGQhRwN2urW69CDEe0dbhIHMGTXgyud8OQzh3b824E8yqz1hRmq6kgnKfzj6GtWbS2te2OqUEsHQyYopV86O7N18/s320/MCA_Recipient_RGB.jpg" width="147" border="0" /></a> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLlq1raCyi9lTKG8GD6UdymUrnJOFBSx1sY0fpjTcWCm7GTcvytQSIi0Nv4_tHnRWOojprrSsT9t-IOgMCg_TxuawwYvlaiJgP6sV4Tv9t7hL8eWt8wE9sxBPE1a8Cx0oTaZ6jTXK699s/s1600-h/AnnBecca.jpg"></a>Life for the Yurcek's has never been easy, but two years ago October the Yurcek family faced a crossroads and Ann Yurcek decided it was time to pull out all her journals and snippets of paper and finally write "that book!" Many people had encouraged her, yet with 11 children who could find energy or time to write a 470 page memoire?<br /><br />Afterall she was "just" a mom.<br />But "just a mom" had a story that needed to be told.<br /><br />Then the struggles began.<br /><br />Ann fought for her story with the same tenacity she founght for medical and mental health provisioning for her children. It was crucial to her that the whole story - three complete separate stories - remained intact. It was vital that it was written in "just a mom" vernacular and script. It was pertinent that no embellishment of truth happen. Afterall this was simply an American family with and extraordinary life experience. A life so complex that for many it would be easier to believe it was fiction. But Ann had armloads of proof to prove every bit was true.<br /><br />Themission of the Mom's Choice Awards (MCA) is to recognize authors, inventors, companies, parents and others for their efforts to create quality family-friendly media, products and services. Tiny Titan by Ann Yurcek publishd by Better Endings New Beginnings has brought smiles and laughter, hope and encouragement to all who read it.<br /><br />"We're delighted with the outstanding works represented in this very special group of recipients," said Tara Peterson, founder of the Mom's Choice Awards.<br /><br /><strong>RECIPIENT</strong> OF BEST OF ADULT NON-FICTION MOM'S CHOICE AWARD<br /><strong>FINALIST</strong> IN YOUR HEART OUR HANDS (for philanthropic spirit)<br /><br />Recipients are profiled in a special limited edition of Entro produced exclusively for the Mom's Choice Awards. The publication is available by special order from major retailers nationwide, via the online retailer Amazon.com and from the MCA website.<br /><br />Congratulations Yurcek Family You represent America at its BEST!!!!<br />We're glad we resisted all those edits and you stuck to your strategy!<br /><br />Jodee Kulp, Publsiher<br />Better Endings New Beginnings</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-87087478042925539352007-10-01T10:39:00.000-07:002007-10-14T08:43:35.371-07:00Parenting Isn't Pretty: The book that kept me reading all weekend<a href="http://mamatude.blogspot.com/2007/01/book-that-kept-me-reading-all-weekend.html#links">Parenting Isn't Pretty: The book that kept me reading all weekend</a><br /><br />We really appreciate Terry Mauro who gave us the boost of getting the word out about Tiny Titan by Ann Yurcek. Ann and I both took a leap of faith when we joined hands to produce this. What an accomplishment. Read Terry's great review.....<br /><br />Today we learned we won <strong>Best Adult Non-Fiction by the Mom's Choice Awards</strong> - Best Adult Non Fiction...The Yurcek family's complex life experiences are shared so that others will have hope.<br /><br />Congratulations Ann!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-69265905751428654462007-09-12T15:58:00.000-07:002007-12-09T16:04:47.400-08:00Fly Away Dear MotherGood morning dear Mother<br /> - I am safe<br /> - I did not die<br />though I wanted to,<br /> hoped to<br /> and almost tried.<br /><br />But I stopped<br /> myself<br />because you taught me how important living is.<br />And I want to live.<br /><br />And not be bound by all the trappings of my mind that spirals down into abyss twirling and swirling and spinning until I am small so very very small and alone and only alcohol takes away the pain - like when I began in a liquored sea under my mother's heart.<br /><br />I stopped myself mother because you took me from a place of empty arms into your home and<br />into your heart and you poured everything you had to give into me<br /> - to help me and now I want to change and grow again<br /> - to get up from where I have fallen back and back and down.<br /><br />Pray for me mom<br /> - that I find another man<br /> - I cannot be alone at night for I am scared<br /> - so scared to be alone and so I go alone to where a friend stays and never leaves<br />- an old friend I met not long ago but for always<br />- my bottle friend<br />- who comes when I am in pain<br />- to relieve my mind of the twisting and turning and twirling. It does not let go because I come<br />back to open the cap and drink the drink and feel the forgetfulness I seem to need when nothing matters anymore and I cannot go on, but then I must.<br /><br />I must wake up and I want to live and not continue in such a way as I have done once again<br /> - once again I fell so hard but this time I saved myself not you mom not you chasing me<br /> - finding me<br /> - picking me up from places you have never been,<br /> nor would ever go because of who you are.<br /><br />But you went<br /> - each time before because of me.<br />Because you loved me<br /> - you came to find your little one<br /> - lost, hurt and alone..<br /><br />So mom I called you this morning. Because I know that you're love is real and you do not forget the little girl who did work a job and did graduate from high school and did learn to do so many things others said I could not do. But I could. And I can do them again - I can you will see. I will try to fly again. Perhaps there is another way.<br /><br />This place is safe mom - you put me here to keep me safe when I was just a fledgling adult<br /> - a child really now I know, but I am 21 and oh so much wiser<br /> - perhaps.<br /><br />Perhaps not.<br />I dunno.<br /><br />I asked for help to come where I knew I would be kept safe and warm and cared about<br />a place where people like me with no one come when they are scared and alone<br /><br />- those who come regularly call this place heaven.<br /><br />Those who live on the street and under bridges and sleep with plastic bags for quilts. Once again I see my dad, the man who gave me life<br /> - yellow and withered<br /> - here in the place he told me was heaven<br /> - county detox<br /> - his life so hard. He's over 50 and he still has not learned to read!<br /><br />I cannot call it heaven mom for I have a home<br /> - an apartment -<br />I have a family and 13 birds that call me their mother<br /> - birds of every color of the rainbow that sing me to sleep<br /> and wake me in the morning to their songs.<br /><br />What will happen to my birds mom?<br /><br />Will you come and care for them and keep them safe and warm while I am here<br /> - becoming once again the me I lost<br /> - the me lost to the bottle before I was even born.<br /><br />I want to fly mom.<br /> I want to fly fly away and be safe.<br />Life is so hard<br /> ....but I won't quit.<br /><br />Perhaps we can all pray for all our young people with FASDS who try so hard.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-30452317064170571552007-09-09T15:44:00.000-07:002007-12-09T15:57:33.419-08:00Coulda, woulda, shouldaFASD Day 2007<br /><br />If only it shoulda woulda coulda been different.<br />Not that I really want everything different but one thing.<br />If only my daughter's mother would have abstained from drinking -<br />at least for a moment -<br />at least for enough time to allow this beautiful child<br />to be born whole -<br /><br />I can't put back what she was never given.<br />Some gifts are only given once.<br /><br />In essence I have done my job, done it the best I could. Laid my life down so to say, as have so many of us. So so very many.<br /><br />My daughter has the best laugh in the world - it is a laugh that can burst a rainbow out of a thunderstorm. Too many thunderstorms today I have no laughter.<br /><br />Enough.<br />Enough.<br />Enough<br /><br />I shout to the heavens, because the world is not hearing. Everynight another mom<br />shares a bottle with her unborn baby - somewhere - someplace - sometime...in celebration, in pain, in joy, in sorrow - there is always a reason.<br /><br />Alcohol has lots of friends.<br /><br />I want to run away - I want to grab myself a box of Oreo's or Chocolates or Boston Cream pie - but instead I take my vitamins knowing that is what I truly need -<br />to pass another day<br />- another test<br />- of who I am<br />- what I am capable of giving and forgiving<br />- not what I want.<br /><br />I want to drink a whole pot of coffee<br />- so I pour myself a cup of Camomile tea.<br /><br />Perhaps that will ease the pain of another derailment<br />- another collapsed bridge<br />- another twin towers.<br /><br />For you or I life is so simple because we can see the complex.<br />But what it you<br />couldn't,<br />didn't,<br />can't.<br /><br />I want to grab my own bottle or chemical and numb myself from the pain<br />- the chaos, the confusion of consequences of her trail of tears<br />- but I sip my tear and instead weave a word tapestry<br />for others to understand the pain and nonsense of FASDs.<br /><br />My daughter walks on a very very narrow line to maintain a piece of normalcy.<br />A push or shove however slight can tip her balance.<br />Balance for her is still in full pendulum swing<br />- back and forth<br />- back and forth<br />- back and forth.<br /><br />I want to cry but I know if I began I may never stop<br />- I have held and counseled too many other parents and friends and families as the reach out for support. And I have been strong for myself and for them. In the journey with my daughter<br /><br />- I have been prepared to understand for others.<br />And like Alice in the rabbit hole<br />I fall once again into my daughters madness....<br /><br />Oh if only she reached out instead of came because she needed a crew to clean up her demolition site. In a whirlpool she is sucked into things unfathomable. Mom I found a job I can be a dancer for an agency - translates to a stripper for a pimp. It was such fun and it's very easy work. And this my dear boss sir is what I've found on my own to pay my bills because I used the passcode you gave me to help you out. I was only being kind. You did not tell me the passcode was a<br />secret - when you were busy you recited it aloud so I could type it in. I am proud of using the computer - I can do that now and I have learned new things - I even memorized your passcode. The one you now tell me is a secret and I am not to know it. But you told it to me and you had me enter it, again and again and now I don't understand why I am fired.<br /><br />I try so had to control myself - I limit what I eat, where I go, who I am with. I even limit the amount of alcohol I drink to numb my own inadequacies - a twenty ounce water bottle is now only half full - It's half empty - I used to drink the whole bottle - but not any more - I am doing well - so well - only trouble is I need it more often now now that I don't have a real job. I was proud of my job - I made pizza's - I topped them and made them pretty. I liked my job. I wanted to do in my way on my own. But then I entered the passcode - on my own was what got me in trouble one more time.<br /><br />My head hurt so I took a pill - mom had invited me to dinner - and we had talked during the day nicely - but the pill I took was not an aspirin<br />- I don't want to die I want to live<br />- and at the restaurant in front of my family<br />- I slipped from being me to someone else<br />- my brain and my chemistry turning to mush - but I was not drunk<br />- I didn't drink.<br />I tried to act grown as I became a child.<br />No I didn't I maintained my composure<br />- but they said there would be no more dining in publics with them.<br /><br />My "friends" dropped me off at my mom's and dad's but they weren't home and I was cold and wrapped up in a table cloth she had on her stoop.<br />Stoop too low sometimes don't I.<br />I want to go home<br />- so mom takes me home - alone - now I have no boyfriend<br />- we had been together for other two years - he is my best friend's lover now.<br /><br />Did I say best friend .... well maybe not anymore.<br />Her sister helped me get some money - dancing - dancing - it was fun.<br />They let me drink - I am adult - I am see I can prove it too you.<br />Oh I forgot - maybe I cannot prove it<br />- my wallet was stolen at the party<br />- my ID and my social security card.<br />I kept my SSC when I got my job<br />- This time I am an adult so I didn't give it back to mom. I am 21....<br /><br />I would have had money - all the money I ever needed but mom locked down the check book<br />I took from her office.<br />It had my name on it. - It was mine - she said it was ours.<br />I bought nice things with the checks<br />- things I wanted - or thought I needed.<br />It didn't take long to spend a lot of money.<br />It didn't matter to me there was only $15.00 in the balance.<br />What is a balance? The bank always has money.<br /><br />My bruises - well - I have not been eating well<br />- I have been drinking too much<br />- I have not taken care of my birds<br />- don't worry it was better when I was working<br />- when I had to be someplace on the same days<br />at the same time sober and looking healthy.<br /><br />Do I care - no yes I mean no. I dunno.<br /><br />.....I dunno ---- I dunno.<br /><br />As a mom I leave the groceries at the front door, with her and a friend 'a safe friend' to clean and repair and help her get back onto the ridge. Walking on a ridge is always hard - dips and turns and stones and crevices to jump. Those of us who raise children with FASDs understand all too well the death toll of Liberty Ridge. It is a hard climb and even with the most experienced climbers working together - few make it.<br /><br />I will stand on the other side of this new crevice - looking for the next piece of gear to help her. But it has been an arduous climb and I am weary. Like so many of us no matter how well I care for myself - I need rest. I need strength and fresh water. I didn't go to a FASD celebration yesterday - I couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't - yesterday I had nothing to celebrate.<br /><br />Jkulp 9/2007 - Happy International FASD DayAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732906771481248249.post-82031148212631547712006-10-17T07:35:00.000-07:002008-07-17T07:37:26.627-07:00Seven Steps To Learning - Wisdom from a DogSir Makone of Knarlwoods joined our home this past week, all fifty empty brained pounds packed into still to grow folded skin. He was already the size of Bonnie our two-year-old standard poodle. Beki, our sixteen year old had died five days earlier and Bonnie had not eaten since her death, refused to ride in the car that never returned her mother and moped around the house trying to fit into her role as the only dog critter. Already her bones protruded from her skin and the bounce and light was fading. I understood her feelings, those feelings were the very reason she had originally joined our home.<br />Bonnie arrived two years ago as Liz, eighteen and full of the wonder of the world had ventured off into adulthood carrying the burden of FASDs and the belief that “when you’re eighteen you can do anything ‘you’ want.” Watching her transverse chasms and be drawn into trauma, I needed something to hang onto as both my daughter and the old dog she left behind skittered often close to death. Bonnie brought into my home of sadness and worry the joy and laughter of puppy antics and I claimed her and trained her with the same neuro skills Liz had taught me to help her brain grow while our old girl Beki claimed the little ragamuffin as her puppy and taught her dog manners. Bonnie had become a sanctuary for me when Liz fell again and again into difficult life experiences, her fur had soaked in oodles of tears as she had licked the salty water off my cheeks and cheered me on with dog ideas to make me feel better. She was a faster learner than I and a good teacher.<br />To see Bonnie, now almost a big dog pining for her adopted mother broke my heart. We had all survived the treacherous journey and learned much – Bonnie could play the piano with her nose and Liz could ride the metro from one side of the city to another without getting lost or picking up a “friend” who needed a place to stay. Timid Bonnie had learned to meet and greet strangers in polite doggie style and Liz had learned to keep her home a private place of refuge. I had learned that the five year brain training program we had set up for Liz didn’t stop her need to explore the world filled with coldness and stress and miscommunication and human predators. Her need for self-experience to find herself and understand the limits her brain injury placed on her was a journey she had to make on her own without the controls and structure and safety we had provided.<br />------<br />Makone “Mak” is peacefully sleeping by my feet as I type this article in my up”stairs” office. At nine months old he had no idea two days ago how to get up any of our steps. He was afraid of the steps to the kennel and the steps to the car and the steps to the studio and the steps to the basement. Some were carpeted and some were yellow wood and some were brown wood and some were concrete and some were painted white.<br /><br />They were all steps – simple steps.<br /><br />And yet Mak came to teach Karl and I a very important lesson for our daughter who has finally settled into her own home of safety and sanctuary. Mak came to teach us that even though he looks full grown he is a baby and babies need a lot of love and guidance to grow. Mak came to teach Karl and I that each step is a new learning experience and each step is different. He came to remind us that his heart wants to do each step but sometimes his mind doesn’t know how. He came at this moment to show us that some steps he could go up and some steps he could go down, but some steps he isn’t ready to touch at all. Maybe someday, maybe someday when he is a big dog. With Mak we expect accidents and piddles along the way as he plods curiously and innocently into each life experience. Liz has learned much in her two-year life experience college of hard knocks. Karl and I have learned as much as Liz has grown.<br />Mak backs up and spreads his gangly feet in all directions to protect himself from each new steps – Liz in her own way does the same - she loves and hates learning.. Mak came to remind us that just as we had taught Liz in our home, we needed to move to teaching her out-of-our home with the same love, compassion and expectations – step by tiny step finally gradually handing her our controls and respecting that they can become her controls.<br /><br />Today we implement a seven-step process in exploring or teaching her a new skill.<br />1. REVIEW - We review the options of how to teach so we have a backup plan. We make the initial calls, visit the site and discover the details.<br />2. WATCH We tell Liz what she is going to learn and take her through the process to accomplish the task. In this first step she is the observant participant with us – we do not require learning.<br />3. WATCH-EXPERIENCE We repeat the experience with her contributing pieces of the learned task.<br />4. EXPERIENCE – WATCH We repeat the experience with her contributing more pieces of the learned task and we begin to step away.<br />5. EXPERIENCE – SHOW – She tells me what to do and I laugh and become a partner in “her” learning.<br />6. SHOW – LET GO – She shows me as I watch and then let go.<br />7. I CAN – She skillfully and a bit fearfully completes the process, while I sit in a parking lot waiting or stay close to the phone to guide. I Can, can take a while and when learning is mastered we move on to the Next Step in our adult journey.<br /><br />For a while we will keep Mak leashed to our side because he does not have the skills to be independent and unknowingly could be injured or killed.<br />We keep Liz tethered to us with the line of love - the same line of love that invited us to a homemade turkey dinner, with gravy and mash potatoes, stuffing and cornbread. I stopped by to demonstrate getting the neck out of the turkey and putting the big bird in the oven. I left her to do the rest herself. I came back to read the recipe for stuffing to her, while she prepared it herself and I demonstrated cooking the giblets. Then Karl and Bonnie arrived to join her and her boyfriend at her “own table” in her “own kitchen.” Her Christmas tree glowed red and green and white in an organized living room. It had been a long journey to get to this place and the journey will continue.<br />Mak came to remind us of the management of that journey – kindness, compassion, clear simple direction – and only one step at a time.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03920915649990015283noreply@blogger.com0