Spotty Dogs Rule

When I first began reading stories about Great Danes online I found many cute, funny, and heartwarming accounts of families living with Danes. My favorite was the ceiling fan story. This particular Dane had a knack for knocking down the ceiling fan when he was playing in the house. So far our ceiling fans are still in their proper spot, but our Loki pup could be the one to change that.

Great Dane owners can turn almost any story into a humorous anecdote. We do it because a) we LOVE our Danes, can’t imagine life without our Danes, are hooked on Danes; and b) when the choice is laughing or crying – and sometimes it is – laughing doesn’t upset our sensitive Danes nearly as much as crying does. Really, it’s all about the Danes. My Danes have done their fair share of mischief – although my husband uses the word “destruction” to describe some of their adventures. In the end, every incident makes a good story.

When Muse, our deaf/blind girl, was just a whisp of a pup, she loved to chew. No surprise – that’s what puppies do. She didn’t eat shoes or the dining room table, but she did chew a hole through the bathroom wall while I was in the shower one morning. Great Danes, even pups, have huge mouths and can do enormous damage fast. I was stunned to step out of the shower to find my sweet, precious pup eating the wall. Hubby was not pleased. But, in her defense, she did find a small water leak behind the hole that we wouldn’t have found had she resisted the urge to eat the wall. Dare I say “good dog?”

Danes are quite tall. This gives them the ability to counter surf. Unlike a medium or small sized dog, Danes can walk by the kitchen counter and take whatever they like, without any difficulty. Some Danes are really sneaky about it, too. A few years ago I made a scrumptious chocolate cake for my husband’s birthday.  It was cooling on the counter, far, far away from the edge and out of counter surfing range. When I went to run a quick errand I told my hubby to watch the cake and I’d be back shortly. When I got home the cake was gone. I assumed that hubby put it in the pantry so he could go back to whatever he was doing and not have to worry about Lucy. I opened the pantry – no cake. I asked hubby where he put the cake. “What cake?”  was his response. LUCY! Sure enough, there was Lucy, in her crate, crumbs on her snout and the plate under her blanket. The sad thing is she got away with it again a few months later when I made a cake for my son’s birthday.

Lucy (L) and Darla (R)

And then, there’s the yard. That is a touchy subject in our house.  Our front yard is lovely.  There are no holes. There are no pooh piles, either. The front yard has trees and grass. The back yard is another story. We do have grass. We also have trails and a few bald spots where the grass is thin. That’s not so bad. But the holes present a problem. Melody is an expert hole digger. She digs fast and deep. The challenge is catching her in the act. Since we have a deaf/blind dog holes are really a safety issue. Holes in the yard also disturb the balance of peace and harmony in the home, but only when hubby is getting ready to work in the yard.

Darla was our first foster failure, which means she came into our house as a foster and then stayed.  Even though she was a big girl as Dane girls go, she was sweet and gentle, and clumsy, very, very clumsy. Big and clumsy and lovable are not the best combination when your 150 pound Great Dane is zooming over to greet you.  When my nieces came to visit during the summer, they were both overwhelmed by Darla.  She was the biggest dog they’d ever seen. When Darla gave one of the girls a big Dane lean she nearly knocked my niece over.  The girls never were quite comfortable around Darla just because she was so big.

Even though Darla was clumsy, she was an adult, which means low energy. Danes in general are big couch potatoes after about 3 years old. Loki is big. Loki is clumsy. Loki is a puppy. Big, clumsy, and puppy is scary sometimes. In the dog room we have three sliding glass doors with screen doors that we open when the weather is nice. On breezy days it’s lovely. We also have tile floors, which are nice for house training and cleaning up muddy paw prints, but it’s terrible for zooming-out-of-control puppies trying to make it around the corner of the crate and out the door. When my husband came home and found the note to fix the back screen door he took the screen door into the garage and tried to fix it. When I got home he had one word for me – “Loki.” I smiled and asked if he’d fixed the door. He didn’t smile and informed me that we need a new door.  Such is life with Great Danes.

Up next…the high cost of Great Dane medical care

"How can you say no to me?"~Lucy, 3 month old Mantle Great Dane

Before I brought my little Lucy girl home I spent months reading everything I could about living with Great Danes. I read humorous anecdotes, health advice, general nutrition and growth information, training tips. I thought I was ready. For the most part that was true. I knew what kind of food to buy (or make – for the first few years of Lucy’s life I made homemade food). I knew about the general health risks associated with Great Danes, like hip dysplasia, osteosarcoma and bloat. I knew that training Lucy when she was still relatively small and young was important. I knew that Great Danes were sensitive, loving, and loyal.

There were things that I didn’t learn.

Puppies are cute. That’s why people want them. Puppies are a lot of work, too. But, hey, they are so cute! In my humble opinion and experience, Great Dane pups are almost too cute. How can you so no to that little darling with enormous feet, gangly legs, floppy ears, big eyes and drooly jowls? That’s part of the reason Great Danes wind up in rescue…somebody wouldn’t say “no,” so that precious darling at 6 months old and weighing about 100 pounds turns into a monster puppy. Training is not an option it is a requirement, otherwise when puppy is an adult serious problems and damage are the result.

Zoomies happen and when Great Danes get a case of the zoomies watch out! Running Great Danes are magnificent. But, they are giant and they do love their humans. Sometimes when they are in the midst of a zoom fest, well, they just want to share the love with their humans. Picture this: your 135 pound puppy is running fast…very fast… toward you, ears flapping, tail wagging, drool flying, grinning from ear to ear, and he’s not slowing down a bit! You are about to be run through. Of course, your pup will make sure you are all right. He’ll stand above you (or on you), looking down at you with a confused but quizzical expression (why are you down there?!) and lovingly lick your face. Eventually Great Danes gain control of their zoomies, but that may not happen until the middle years, say from 3 to 6 years.

Do not disturb....Danes at rest

Lounging is their favorite past time. My Danes prefer lounging wherever the humans happen to be – living room, kitchen, dining room, office, bedroom, or even the bathroom. Yes, I do get ready for work with as many as five Great Danes in the bathroom with me. No, my bathroom is not very big. Most evenings my husband and I sit on the sectional in the living room to talk about our days and sync our calendars. Our Danes are generous and usually make room for us. So there we are, in order, my husband at one end, then Muse, Melody, Loki, and me at the other end. Sometimes one or two foster Great Danes will manage to squeeze in, too.  No, the sectional is not that big, we’re just very cozy.

My Danes are believers in the art “Dane” shui, not to be confused with the art of Feng shui. Of course, this brings balance and harmony to my house…and involves a lot of furniture rearranging. Feng shui is the Chinese art of organizing space to maximize the flow of chi, or positive energy. “Dane” shui is an art, too. When the house gets “out of balance” my pack will do the following:

• move the dining room table to make the flow of “dane” energy move unimpeded through the dining room…
• move the living room chair to maximize meditation as they look out the picture windows and contemplate nature…and the neighbors cat…and the squirrels…
• move the comforter off the bed and onto the floor, helping their positive energy revitalize more efficiently and comfortably…
• rearrange the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter, removing oranges or bananas as needed to achieve maximum harmony and balance…

Whenever I mistakenly put a piece of furniture in the “wrong” place, my Danes lovingly remind me that I’m dead wrong when it comes to interior décor and fix the problem. They do approve of the tile throughout the house since it makes moving the furniture a little easier.

Certain topics are not discussed.  In some families there is an unspoken rule that certain subjects are not to be discussed, like politics or religion. In our home, no one talks about the price of dog food. No one questions how much I spend on kibble, treats, or obedience classes. If a certain pup “accidently” knocks the screen door off the frame there are no questions asked. The necessary repairs are made without a word. The Danes are here to stay. Period.

Nobody told me that Great Danes were habit forming. I confess, I am crazy about my Great Danes. They are gentle (after the puppy phase), they are giant (even as puppies), they are loyal and they are loving. But, what makes a Great Dane a Great Dane is their amazing ability to mix utter goofiness with royal dignity while somehow being able to read their humans emotions with startling accuracy. Even my puppy monster (still working on obedience) knows when I need a “lean” (Great Danes lean on their people to show affection) or a snuggle at the end of a stressful day. I need my Danes like I need my morning coffee…it’s a survival thing.

“Great Danes are like potato chips…you can’t have just one!” I know that many Dane enthusiasts manage to get by with one Great Dane at a time. I tried. I failed. For me, three seems to be the right number.

In the next post, trials and tribulations of living with Great Danes…

One of my favorite books of all time is a children’s book – Go, Dog, Go! A classic book by P.D. Eastman. I love the scene at the end of the book when all the dogs are in the tree having a dog party – “big dogs, little dogs, black dogs, white dogs…all at a dog party!” I don’t know how they got up the tree, but man, what a party.

That tree is about what my house looks like now – big dogs, little dogs, black dogs, white dogs, black and white dogs all at a dog party, right in my dining room…no, now in my living room… whoops, up the stairs, now in the bathroom…no, in the bedroom, down the hall, down the stairs, into the kitchen…five dogs playing, having a big dog party. Another 10 minutes and they’ll all be taking a nap…one big pile of napping Great Danes. Then it will be safe to walk through the house.

Muse left the fray first and got the chair. Humans rarely sit in the chair.We refer to it as the Dane chair. If memory serves, then that the chair is quite comfortable.

Melody took a long drink then hopped up on the sectional, in the corner, in her spot. With one big sigh, she rolls onto her back and sleeps deeply.

Loki flumped onto the dog bed, stretched out, rolled onto his back. There is nothing in the world cuter than a napping Loki monster.

Wesley (L) & Emmett (R)

Emmet and Wesley play on and on and on. It takes a lot to wear those two out. They are a funny match: Wesley is a very small Great Dane – only 90 pounds and less than 30″ at the shoulder. Like Melody, he’s what I call a compact Dane. He’s just a nice size. He’s also young and playful.

Emmett, on the other hand, is a very big Great Dane – 36″ at the shoulder, very long and lean. The fact that he’s lean makes him look even taller. Put the two together and it’s comical.

Both boys are what I call a lightly marked Harlequins – mostly white with black patches and spots. Each one has a physical impairment – Emmet is deaf and Wesley is blind in one eye. They both love walking in the neighborhood and playing with balls. Emmett knows how to fetch; Wesley knows how to chase. It works out well.

"Let's play!"

Each one of the boys has a different back story. But here they are, in my care for a short while until they are adopted. While they are in foster care they learn to sit, wait, come, leash walk, and how to just be dogs. Sometimes people forget that dogs are dogs, that they like to run, play, have their bellies rubbed and just be with their humans. Sometimes they bark or whine, or counter surf, but often bad behavior is driven by boredom or fear or loneliness.

Every dog, purebred or mixed breed, is unique. Not all dogs get along, even though humans make that assumption and sometimes put their dogs in situations that overwhelm the dog, which can lead to unwanted behavior. Some dogs have annoying behaviors that are just part of who they are. Humans might not discover the odd behavior until the dog has been living with them for a few weeks. It’s like when you get married and discover that your spouse squeezes the toothpaste tube in the middle rather than from the end. It’s annoying, but you can live with it. Some things you can fix, like teaching a dog to refrain from barking at the neighbor’s dog. Some things you just have to accept, like having a dog whine or howl at the bathroom door because you want a little privacy.

Wesley

Everyday we have a dog party – big dogs, little dogs, black dogs and white dogs all at a dog party. And man, what a party it is – howling, barking, tail wagging, toy chasing, tug playing all at the dog party. What a dog party!

Emmett is a lovely boy – loyal, loving, friendly. He’s learned so much since coming to my house, like waiting his turn and enjoying his crate. I thought he’d learned to resist the counter. He has, except when there are fresh, warm blueberry muffins just sitting there, unprotected and all alone. No one is perfect.

"Well, could you resist a delicious warm home-made blueberry muffin just sitting on the cabinet? Huh?"~Emmett

Emmett’s been picking up some of Loki’s habits, like guarding the oven. Who knows what could happen if nobody watched the oven, right? So there Emmett sat, on Loki’s rug, watching the oven. I left knowing that the oven was absolutely safe. How did I manage without a Dane in the kitchen?

The timer buzzed. I went down to the kitchen and there was Emmett, still watching the oven. I wonder what he thought he was accomplishing while he watched it.  It’s a mystery.

Wait a minute…drop that MUFFIN?! Emmett!

In his defense, Emmett was sitting. And I do give treats to dogs that come into the kitchen and sit patiently without pawing or whining or begging. Emmett DID sit. And he DID wait patiently for the muffins to bake and cool. And he was looking at me with his head tilted  to the side and one ear flopped over his head. If I had been in the kitchen he would have gotten a bite of a muffin. I gues he read my mind and wanted to save me a little time. Emmett is a thoughtful dog.

Where'd the ball go? ~Emmett

Emmett loves balls. He even knows how to play fetch, a rare thing for a Great Dane. Our very first Dane, Lucy, almost learned how to play fetch. She would play after watching our lab mix, Buddy, fetch. Lucy understood the idea that chasing the ball was good. She learned that if she ran after the ball she got lots of praise. Then she figured out that if she picked up the ball she got even more praise. Finally, she discovered that if she brought the ball back she got even more praise. She never quite grasp the concept of “drop the ball.”

Emmett’s first human must have spent a lot of time teaching Emmett the game of fetch, because Emmett loves to chase, catch, and return the ball. He waits with anticipation, watching the ball, while I get ready to throw it. Then, he chases, pounces, bats the ball, grabs it in his big drooly mouth and runs back, tail wagging, ears flapping. I have to admit that I was stunned when he brought the ball back. I wasn’t quite sure what he wanted. But, he managed to convey to me that it was time to play fetch. (Watch Emmett playing with his new jolly ball!)

Loki, my 9-month-old puppy-monster, watched intently while Emmett and I played fetch. Then he brought a ball to me. He dropped it and thumped his tail on the ground until he got my attention. I threw the ball. Loki dashed after it. He pounced, he batted, he grabbed the ball. He ran upstairs…ahh, Lucy all over again.

There are many different kinds of Great Dane sized balls around the house – giant tennis balls (Muse’s favorite), jolly balls (Emmett’s favorite), bouncy balls, treat balls, squeaky balls (why do the deaf dogs LOVE to squeak squeaky balls so much?!), smooth balls, textured balls, soccer balls. I learned about treat balls when Muse was a pup. Being both deaf and blind and full of puppy mischief it was imperative that I figure out how to keep her mind busy while burning energy or lose my sanity, not to mention the furniture. Treat balls were great. I’d fill a treat ball with liver or peanut butter treats, let her sniff the ball, and then let her play with it in the kitchen until she got all the treats. Then she’d take a nap, or at least be somewhat calm.

The whole gang was in my room this morning, lounging on the bed – Muse, Melody, Loki and Emmett. Muse was napping. Melody was gnawing on a nylabone. Loki and Emmett were laying down while playing with a green rubber ball. It was pretty funny watching them laying down and batting the ball, taking out of each other’s mouth…maybe they were too tired to actually get up to play. And then the ball rolled off the bed, bounced once, and landed by the closet door, which isn’t too far from the end of the bed.

The boys stopped. They watched the ball. Their ears perked up, their brow furrowed. Loki tilted his head. They looked at me then at the ball. Loki pawed the air. I could have given them the ball. But I didn’t. Then Emmett stretched his out long body, reaching for the ball. Not to be outdone, Loki did the same. Then Loki stretched out a little more than Emmett. This time Emmett copied Loki. This went on for several moments. Loki got to the ball first, grabbed it then realized he had a problem – his big spotty butt was on the bed but the rest of his big spotty body was stretched out too far, and now he was unbalanced. Loki has lots of experience being unbalanced. As Loki was struggling to get up, Emmett stood up, got off the bed, walked over, grabbed the ball out of Loki’s mouth and hopped up on the bed again. Loki was outsmarted by the deaf dog. In defeat, Loki climbed back into bed and scooted up close to Emmett, who started to share the ball.

The boys were unaware that Melody had dropped the nylabone. She grabbed the ball and ran. The boys followed. I followed the boys. Down stairs, to the back door, out the door and into the snow – Melody leading the way…

There’s just something about ears…

Emmett watching a friendly family game night...

One of the things that I love about my Danes are their ears. Cropped or natural, Danes have the best ears.  It’s hard not to rub an ear when I walk by one of them.

Cropped vs Natural

Muse's sweet pink ears.

Cropping ears is a personal choice; many show dogs have cropped ears. Some people think that Danes have pointy ears naturally, but that’s not the case. Natural Dane ears are wonderfully floppy. Muse, my deaf/blind Dane, tilts her head just right, letting her ears flutter in the wind. Melody stands perfectly still in the wind while her ears flutter.

Ear Wars

Melody melts when she gets a good ear rub.

Floppy ears are great fun for pups to catch. Once caught, ears make excellent chew toys. Melody, who’s a year younger than Muse, used to grab Muse’s ear to make her go outside. Melody would also play tug with Muse’s ear, which resulted in lots of ear first aid.

Ear First Aid

Just because ears are fun to tug doesn’t mean that ears are good tug toys. Ears are incredibly fragile, at least when being chomped on with puppy teeth. Poor Muse, her ears were bloody messes on many occasions until we finally got Melody to stop playing with ears. Ears bleed a lot and getting an ear to stop bleeding is more difficult than you’d expect. What’s worse, one firm headshake often causes the ear wound to start bleeding all over again. The worst ear injury Muse ever had was a big rip, which landed her in the vet (after hours) getting several stitches. We have a firm “NO EARS” rule in the house. When I yell, “NO EARS” every dog knows to drop the ear immediately. Fortunately for Muse Melody has given up the ear habit, but Loki still likes a good ear nibble every once in a while.

Floppy Ears

Gracie has the best floppy ears

Rubbing floppy dog ears can be very therapeutic.How can anyone remember the bad day (grouchy people, bad traffic, a flat tire) after spending a little time rubbing floppy ears? The longer I rub any one of my dogs’s ears, the more relaxed they get, the more relaxed I get. It’s like magic. Studies show that people with dogs are healthier and happier. I couldn’t agree more.  There’s nothing happier than floppy ears.

Emmett has that floppy ear thing going

Emmett likes predictability. He likes things to be regular, normal. My house is anything but predictable. So, like any other resourceful creature, Emmett created structure out of chaos.

Like most households in America, the morning hours are hectic – adult humans getting ready for work, teen humans getting ready for school, canines going to extremes to a) get their humans attention and b) prevent their humans from leaving while wearing clean, fur free clothes. My house is no exception.

At 6 AM, like clockwork, Melody goes downstairs to the back door…Emmett greets us with a “good morning humans”…Loki thunders down the stairs…Muse stretches slowly and deeply, then descends the stairs to join the ‘rest of the world’…Buddy follows at a safe distance. Everyone goes out. I gather the food bowls. Everyone comes in and we all go to the kitchen.

Once I open the pantry door, Muse and Melody go right back to their crates to drool and wait. Loki sniffs the kibble keeper, then goes to his rug by the sink and sits, briefly, before trotting off to his crate to drool and wait.  Emmett watches me scoop every single cup of kibble into the appropriate bowls. He escorts me to the dog room, carefully watching the bowls of kibble. While I pass out the kibble, he sits in his crate, watching and waiting.

Once the kibble is consumed, everyone joins me in the bathroom. They’re thirsty, of course. I have a decent sized bathroom, but me along with four Great Danes in the bathroom at the same time is…um…cozy. Muse and Melody are petite girls, each one being about 28-30” at the shoulder and weighing between 100-110 pounds each. They’re too short to drink from our sink, so they drink from the bathtub or toilet.  The boys, Loki and Emmett, are not so petite. Emmett is a tall boy – 36” at the shoulder, very long and lean; he’s gained weight since he’s been in rescue and is up to about 125 pounds. Loki is 35” at the shoulder, very long and broad, with a big thick chest; he outweighs Emmett by about 10 pounds – and he’s still growing! The boys prefer to drink from the bathroom sink – while I’m putting my contacts in my eyes or applying make-up or brushing my teeth. They don’t mind it at all if I share their sink space with them.

Then Muse goes off to nap, Melody and Loki go outside to bark at the neighbor dogs or play or zoom. Emmett stays close to the humans. He’s the biggest shadow I’ve ever had. He doesn’t make a pest of himself (like a certain spotty pup that I love). Emmett’s morning revolves around the humans. He follows me downstairs and waits patiently while I get my coffee. He follows me upstairs and waits while I get dressed. He watches me as I sort through my jewelry box and shoe collection. He wags his tail and smiles when we make eye contact. He follows me back downstairs, sitting by my side while I make my lunch. Where I go, Emmett goes.

The pups come thundering in the house, but Emmett stays by my side. I pack my bag as Emmett watches over me, making sure I don’t forget anything. Just before I leave, I gather up the bones and go to the kitchen. Emmett follows. So does everyone else. They all sit and watch as I smear peanut butter into each bone, then my pack runs to their crates, but Emmett stays by my side. I pass out the bones, kiss Emmett on the head, then shut the crate doors. He smiles and wags his tail.

I know that after chewing on his bone Emmett settles down to sleep. There have been few occasions that I’ve come back home after dropping kids off at school to work from home and found Emmett sleeping happily in his crate, snuggling into his blanket. His world revolves around the humans in the house. The other dogs are fine, but humans are the love of Emmett’s life.

Emmett is not my dog, but I am the recipient of his love and devotion. He’s my foster dog and for now my home is his home. But I know it’s temporary. Whoever opens their home and heart to Emmett will be a lucky human. Emmett will be loyal, loving and devoted to his human companion.  For whatever reason, Emmett is one of those special creatures who opens his heart willingly to those who are willing to open their heart to him.

My dogs aren’t perfect. They aren’t show quality. They’re not obedience superstars. What they are not is irrelevant to me. I love who they are…just dogs. Ordinary? No. But they are first and foremost dogs; bless their big muddy paw, that’s what they are – dogs.

If I wanted perfect dogs I wouldn’t have rescue dogs. If I wanted perfect dogs I’d be sadly disappointed since there are no perfect dogs. A dog may win “best of breed” and be a stunning example of a particular breed, but that dog doesn’t really care. At the heart of any dog is a dog’s heart.

My dogs are not the breed name by which they are classified. Right now, they are all sprawled out on the sectional, legs draped across each other. Hardly the image of a mighty Great Dane to be sure; they look more like of pack of mighty couch potatoes.

My dogs are not hunters, the job that Great Danes of the past fulfilled. They do manage to track down a ball or a bone on occasion, but that’s the extent of their hunting. But, when I leash up my dogs and we explore the great outdoors, I imagine them on the hunt – nose to the ground, tension filling their bodies as they search for their prey. The illusion is fleeting. A car passing by or a squirrel on the loose breaks the magic spell. But in those brief moments, my dogs are regal. They are mighty Great Danes.

My dogs are not humans, even though they sleep in my room and lounge on the couch. They are dogs. They need exercise. They need to know their place in the pack, which includes humans and canines in my home. They live in the moment and remind me to live in the moment with them. They remind me to enjoy a game of tug or a simple meal.

My dogs are necessary. The teach me to relax, to enjoy a belly rub, to growl at things that annoy me, but also to wag my tail everyday at the little things – a ball, a treat, a snuggle.

My dogs are my companions. They are part of my family, muddy paws and all. And though the life span of a Great Dane is all too short, I open my heart to my gentle giants. I give them my heart – they are trustworthy, faithful, and loyal.

My dogs are my dogs; my humans are my humans.  Dogs and humans are meant to do life together. I do all kinds of things with my human companions – play board games, watch movies, kayak in the summer; I do all kinds of things with my dogs – walk, play, lounge in the summer sun.  As a human/canine family, we love our yearly picnic with about 70 other Great Danes and their humans.

At the end of the day, no matter how good or how bad, I come home to wagging tails and happy faces – “our human is home”! My dogs are just dogs – actually, that is perfect.

I was sick. That’s my excuse – I was just too sick to be rational. And now, well, my pack has new expectations about food, my food to be exact. How quickly they learn bad habits. In the span of a few days they learned to sit, to beg, to expect me to share my breakfast. Or snack. Or lunch. Or dinner.  If only obedience training happened as fast.

While I was sick I shared whatever food I could manage to keep down, usually that was buttered toast. I didn’t share my Perrier-cranberry-grape cocktail, although I’m sure they would have been happy to share that, too. But the sickness passed. I was feeling fine. Things should have gone right back to normal. I was mistaken.

In the morning when I opened my cup of yogurt 4 Great Danes came racing into the kitchen, sliding to a halt just short of crashing into me. They sat in a semi-circle around me. They started drooling. I stared back at them in disbelief.

When the toaster popped up with my lightly toasted English muffin, I maneuvered through the pack of salivating Great Danes, through a puddle of drool, and retrieved my food. Forcing my way back through the mob, I made it to the counter and buttered and jellied the lightly toasted English muffin. I made my way through the Great Dane obstacle course to the table. They followed. Somehow I’d achieved super-stardom and now had an adoring fan club following my every move.

I sat down to eat. I felt a paw on my leg. Then, I saw the white paw moving toward the table. Suddenly, I felt moist breath on my neck as a snout rested against my shoulder. Another snout rested on my arm. I was completely surrounded. Four sets of puppy-dog eyes followed my every move. Drool began dripping off their jowls, landing on my leg, my arm, my shoulder. What had come over them?

I feed my pack every morning at 6 a.m. They get treats each afternoon. Dinner is served promptly at 6:30 p.m. Not a single one of them needed to eat – not even the monster pup who is still growing at an astounding rate. I ignored their pleading eyes. Loki monster, the ravenous pup, accepted the challenge and stuck his snout right in my face and gave me his sweetest, most pleading look. Emmett whined. Melody pawed. I refused to give in to their nonsense.

And then, Muse sat. I gave in to her good behavior. The worse the others behave, the better Muse behaves. I love this kind of peer pressure. Then Melody sat…a nibble for Melody, too. Emmett whined louder, but sat, so he got a little piece. Loki was not giving in…after all, he was the mighty Great Dane (pup), king of all dogs. At least that’s his opinion of himself.

He stared at the last bite of my English muffin. Then he looked at me. I ignored him. I reached for the last bite. He watched my every move. Who emerged as the victor in the battle of the wills – me against the mighty Great Dane (pup)?

"I'm starving!" ~Loki

Melody. In her rush to grab the napkin (she does like a nice crumb filled napkin), she grabbed the napkin and the last bite of English muffin, and then headed to her crate. Loki looked at me then followed Melody. I sighed.  Breakfast just didn’t seem as filling as I thought it would be.

I filled my coffee cup and reached for an orange. And suddenly four Great Danes were surrounding me…

Aren’t puppies cute? They’re cute for a reason – it gets them lots of love and forgiveness for all that bad puppy behavior. Puppies eat things, like shoes, couches, tables and power cords. Puppies shred blankets, socks, and clothes. Puppies pee on the floor. Puppies roll in pooh. Puppies jump up and bite. Puppies need obedience training. Puppies need frequent trips to the vet. Puppies are a lot of work. Puppies don’t stay puppies for very long.

In the past three years I’ve adopted three puppies. I’ve been through untold rolls of paper towels. I can’t count how many trips to the vet I’ve made with a pup. My shoe collection is in constant flux – one brief moment of leaving a closet door open and a shoe might go missing. And then there’s the extra laundry, the eaten homework (no joke), extra trips to buy MORE food because my little cutie pie is going through a growth spurt. I didn’t adopt puppies because I wanted a puppy. I adopted puppies because I can’t wait for the middle years.

In the life cycle of a Great Dane years from 3-7 are just the best. Muse, my deaf/blind girl, is almost 3 yrs old, and I enjoy her more each day. My foster boy, Emmett, is 3, and he is just a delight. Something magic happens between years 2 and 3 – the puppy brain matures and starts fitting the extra large body it controls.

Muse is a pleasure. She was an adorable, mischievous pup, but she emerged a gentle, calm lady Great Dane. She walks calmly with me. She’s patient when out in public meeting new people of all ages. She’s graceful and dignified. When she wakes me up in the morning she gently nuzzles me with her great, velvety soft snout. While watching TV, she doesn’t trounce on top of me, or play tug in front of me; no, she curls up next to me, head in my lap and keeps me company. I can trust her to be left loose in the house when I’m gone. She’s rarely in her crate now. She still plays tug. She zooms with the pups, just not as long and she’s not as wild. She learned to sit, down, and knows what is appropriate to chew.  Is she perfect? Mostly. But she does have this annoying habit of barking to get her doggie friends attention. It works. If Muse barks then either Loki or Melody usually go to her. Since Muse is deaf and blind that’s what she uses as a signal to the pack that she’s looking for them.

Emmett (R) - GDRI foster

During the middle years obedience training is more fun. Without the erratic puppy brain in full force, the adult dog can pay attention to the commands being taught. And the dogs in the middle years seem to learn faster in my opinion. I can work with my 8 mos old pup on a command and think he’s got it. But the next day, it seems like he has no idea what I’m telling him to do. Not so with Emmett. In the short time he’s been in the house he’s learned my signal for “no” and learned what is appropriate for playtime and for chewing. Loki’s been here since birth and we’re still working on those simple boundaries!

Our rescue currently has 3 foster dogs that are in their middle years. These delightful canines are hard to place. Most folks want a puppy or an adolescent. People pass over the dogs in their middle years and miss the benefits of an adult. I’ve adopted a Great Dane in her middle years. She was delightful. She fit right in with the pack. I didn’t know a lot about her previous life, other than that she was afraid of men. But she learned to trust men. She was a gentle soul. Her time with us was brief, but the time she spent with us was simply wonderful.

Rumor - GDRI foster

I’m so looking forward to the middle years with my pack. No more bad puppy behavior, but rather, lots of calm with a normal amount  of play, and that wonderful companionship that comes only with age.

Olivia - GDRI foster

Maggie - GDRI foster