Well she doesn’t howl at the moon. Dogs don’t partake in this nocturnal endeavor. In fact, either do wolves. They simply howl at night to signal each other when hunting. At least this is how I understand it. Dogs on the other hand, sleep through most nights. And most of the day for that matter. And they rarely howl. They do bark though. And Third Dog barks more regularly than either first or second dog ever did. Although with both of those dogs we may have been too caught up with our two kids to recognize a howling dog. Quite often one of the kids was howling. And if I remember correctly the dogs slept well and deep through all of it. Moon or no moon. Kids or no kids. Howl or no howl.

Dogs seem to bark most often at the presence of people. And in many cases the presence of other animals of any kind. Which leads me to believe that since the United States is abandoning our lunar space travel program, there’s little chance that any more moon-howling will be going on. Third Dog will have to be content to howl at kids riding by on bicycles; at skate boarders…and squirrels. I don’t know if there has ever been a dog that actually caught a squirrel or a rabbit, but as a witness to my own dog’s attempts to catch the critters I have to believe that fat chance is the appropriate analysis of the situation. The fact that a dog will bark first is a small but vivid insight into their character as I doubt there are many dogs that really want to catch these little woodland creatures and the best way to assure themselves that they won’t is to bark crazily in warning before they begin a frantic and fruitless trace. I think in the history of “dogdom”, dogs were once fierce and fearless hunters. But then so were men. And our evolution has been inexorably bound. Although dogs are still trained to hunt, they give over their catch, rather gently in most cases, to the hands of men.

But Third Dog bounds with startling determination after small prey. The amazing thing about Third Dog is that as soon as the chase is over, after a moment or two of sniffing the ground and looking, quite bewildered up into the canopy of the trees in which the hunted creature has vanished; the chase is over and I doubt that the pup has much memory of what it was that brought her hurtling across the yard with such strange and primitive abandon. The animal having vanished, why not lie upside down on the grass and scratch her back. The chase itself was executed with complete commitment and purpose. She just can’t remember what they might have been. And they’ll always be something else to chase.

The barking can be a good thing. Howling at the moon certainly has its place in the living of any life. And the chase…well, the chase is the thing isn’t it. And the catching is rarely as important as we thought it would be. Half the time we all forget exactly what it was we thought we were after. I think perhaps admiring the good ground, enjoying the canopy of the trees and moving on to the next pursuit with inspired determination may be the thing.

Howl or no howl.

I’m not sure what the clinical definition of obsessive might be. But surely this dog’s behavior in some instances can be described as this. Maybe it’s a characteristic of the species or maybe humanity has inbred this trait in our dogs through our own obsession with tricks and commands; the need to declare alpha dominance over our canine companions. But besides the flirting with obsession, there is, at the same time, something admirable about the behavior as well. A certain clarity of purpose – a singularity of intent.

Focus and single-mindedness, traits I sorely lack, have never been better exemplified than by Third Dog. Besides doing her best to get our attention at any time of the day, her primary focus is a blue and yellow plastic circle known as a Frisbee. Frisbee is a word not dared uttered in our quiet home without a readiness for immediate action. The word inspires the frantic search and ends with the longing eyes over a mouth full of plastic cylinder which can turn our beautiful dog -– a saucer clenched in her jaws – into a cartoon character. I don’t think there is anything our puppy would rather do than to plunge headlong across our rear lawn in pursuit of the cylinder, suspended in its own innate and frenzied circular flight. The Frisbee is an important center of her life; her unrelenting focus admirable. But unless my wife or I are ready to indulge her in her passion, the word can’t be uttered. We have to spell it…F….R…I…

Once indulged, nothing stands in the way. Gardens are gone in the blink of the eye as she dashes across everything in her hot pursuit. And then once gathered in her jaw, she bounds back to us across the landscape and delivers it for another launch. She is, after all, a Retriever. In these moments, exclusively so.

Our second Golden would retrieve nothing. She would chase an item; examine it; and then leave it lying where it fell. She had no interest in the pickup and delivery of anything, however fascinating they might be. Second dog could fit four of five balls in her jaws, but she had no interest in depositing them anywhere specific. For Third Dog, on the other hand, the pickup and delivery are integral to the satisfaction of the task: a kind of canine Federal Express. (more…)

The shrinking economy and the sound of crashing finances are heard everywhere; strangely reminiscent of other financial failures and the difficulties of past generations. We have our own struggles… a small business in a challenging economy… a daughter in college and a son just finished. As with almost all families these days, we watch every dollar and are careful of how we spend. But sometimes you just have to live. And recently, my wife taking off to the cape with some friends for a spring getaway, I put two bills on the counter for her because I knew she was watching every dollar. One was a hundred dollar bill and one was a fifty. This is a nice neat way to have $ 150.00. Two bills. Not a fortune by any means, but some spending money. Fun money.

Not so fast. Enter Sandy. (more…)

Maybe it’s because our lives are so much more quiet that this third golden retriever of ours, seems so much louder. She barks. I rarely remember our second dog barking except in the most extreme circumstances… the unexpected presence of cats, for instance. That could’ve been because we had teenagers around most of the time…with friends…those loudly joyful or strangely belligerent young people who pass through this phase of life as if they are riding a skateboard through a china shop… (more…)