Riley barks when the washer switches cycles and growls at a ticking clock when it’s quiet at night. He notices a bunny in the neighbor’s yard down the street and will chase every last bird off the beach. So how the hell did he miss this giant whale that washed up on the beach while we were standing there watching?! I don’t know. But after about a half hour he finally noticed and started barking. I guess there were more interesting smells on the beach that day than a dead whale?

City Water Taxi Dog Cruise

The last couple of months have been chuck-full of vet visists for Riley. The mites returned (or never really left), tumor removed, more stubborn mites on the paws. Now that our vet visits have dwindled to once every three weeks, Riley and I need to enjoy the summer.

I’ve come across a couple of dog-related events in the Boston-area we must attend: a harbor cruise to the harbor islands and Yappy Hour at the Liberty Hotel. And no, Riley won’t be dressing to impress for Yappy Hour.

Now if only the summer weather would arrive here in Boston….

I wonder if Dr. House takes on animal cases?

Holiday Excess

Life with Riley has been a bit crazy during/since the holidays. I thing we’ve both finally recovered. He has had some serious behavioral problems that have subsided. His mites returned. And an ear infection made him extra cranky for several weeks. His illnesses, of course, compounded the behavioral issues. One such “issue” involved him biting me when I was trying to put drops in his ears. And a Riley freakout during a his weekly bath for the mites.

But I feel like we’ve turned a corner the last two weeks. His skin scrapping came back clear on Saturday. Yay! Or maybe because it’s not 12 degrees everyday and the layers of snow and ice have melted so we can actually take a walk. Who knows. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the calmness continues.

They're even uglier dead.

Riley recently made his first kill. Well, the first kill I’m aware of. Who knows what happened when he was living on the street. I let him out in the backyard, at night, without a leash, because I was being lazy. The door opened and he burst outside. I knew something was up, his swift motion had a purpose this time, I could tell. And he didn’t make a sound. I heard a brief scuffle, then Riley comes out of the shadows, head and tail up high, with a quivering opossum in his mouth.

He strutted over and stood in front of me, wagging his tail. I pet his head and said “good boy.” It seemed the right thing to do; he was bred to do this type of job. But then the real fun began.

Riley trotted over to the back door, kill in mouth. He wanted to bring it inside. I said “NO. DROP IT.” Well, we’ve never perfected the drop it command. As was clearly demonstrated by his stubborn insistence to keep the dead creature in his mouth. He brought it into the middle of my tiny backyard, dropped it, and morphed into a wild animal. He was protecting his kill.

My best efforts were failing. He would not budge. I grabbed a broom to try to move him away from it. He tore the broom apart. I amazingly remained calm. My next door neighbor came out asking, “Do you need some help?”

I was afraid Riley would bite him and said no. But my kind neighbor persisted. And brought his wife and father-in-law out to help. They tried to distract Riley from over the fence. Nothing. Then all of a sudden my neighbor appeared in my yard, wielding a shovel, making a low growling sound and charging Riley. With this welcome distraction I grabbed an old patio umbrella and threw it over the dead creature.

Riley backed off and nonchalantly walked over to the porch and started eating the chicken I brought out in hopes of enticing him away from his kill. My neighbor quickly scooped up the opossum and threw it in the woods over the fence. Thank God he watches a lot of Discovery Channel wild animal shows. Who says tv doesn’t teach you anything useful? And thank God for fabulous neighbors.

I checked out Psycho Pup and called my vet. He didn’t have any wounds from his scuffle and was up to date on all his shots. The poor opossum didn’t stand a chance. But Riley had gloriously failed the ultimate dog test; choosing to protect his dead prey over obeying my command.

So we are enrolling in some one-on-one training after the holidays. He has come so far since I got him, but I can’t let this incident slide. His behavior was unacceptable. And he obviously does not see me as the Alpha. The trainer believes we can turn him around, with some hard work from Riley and me. And I’ll finish reading the Dog Whisper’s Be the Pack Leader. I bought it (at Book People in Austin – great independent book store! You must go! If in Austin!) when I was away at a conference and it’s been collecting dust. Perhaps Cesar can offer me some helpful hints?