tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5740146315586614552024-03-05T17:35:17.712+11:00Melon's Animal AdventuresLife with animals in the human world. Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.comBlogger162125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-83025605216289311712018-05-09T16:27:00.000+10:002018-05-09T16:27:54.457+10:00Wordless Wednesday: Afternoon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-32041179045861943952018-02-12T21:08:00.003+11:002018-02-12T21:08:45.930+11:00Monday Mischief: Sherlock's Socks<blockquote class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-permalink="https://www.instagram.com/p/BfF3ZzKAGT-/" data-instgrm-version="8" style="background: #fff; border-radius: 3px; border: 0; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.5) , 0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 658px; padding: 0; width: 99.375%;">
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BfF3ZzKAGT-/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Sherlock would never, ever steal socks. #whome #theywererightthere #imissyou</a></div>
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A post shared by <a href="https://www.instagram.com/melondious/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px;" target="_blank"> Melon</a> (@melondious) on <time datetime="2018-02-12T09:29:47+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Feb 12, 2018 at 1:29am PST</time></div>
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<script async="" defer="" src="//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js"></script>Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-13555696730845883842018-02-09T23:21:00.000+11:002018-02-09T23:21:21.702+11:00In Which Everyone Does Something New, and Lots Is LearnedAs a dogsitter, I only ever board dogs from one household at a time with me at home. More often than not, that means only one dog at home. It's easy and comfortable for me and my family.<br />
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But it doesn't make for much dogsitting, and it means I may not be available for my clients. So occasionally, if someone wants just daycare or overnight, I'll consider taking multiple dogs -- if they're a suitable match.<br />
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Yesterday, I did a trial for one such situation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ava and Darcy</td></tr>
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I trust these two with almost anything, you know that. Meeting strangers, being in public, meeting dogs. But as I learned yesterday, relationship dynamics are always more complicated when there's <i>two of them </i>interacting with a third party together.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Darcy and Sherlock</td></tr>
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My current boarder is 3yo cavoodle Sherlock. Tallest cavoodle I've ever seen, and quiet and gentle.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rawr!</td></tr>
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Well, I followed all my usual protocol -- leashed introductions outside my property, but then inside (into the yard) for off-leash as soon as possible. I needn't have worried about Sherlock, who has lived here for the past week, being territorial -- it was Darcy (and Ava?) who barked at him and he backed away, unsure.<br />
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Fortunately, things settled once we were inside. Over the day I discovered that Darcy can be pushy with other dogs, that Ava can be the fun police and that Sherlock and Ava can't share tennis balls.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you spot the fun police?</td></tr>
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But I also discovered that the dogs can be mature enough to settle when separated. So with a little management -- like a lot of things in life! -- they can coexist together.<br />
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And I appreciate the joyful moments, like this one:</div>
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I loved seeing all the playful body language from Darcy and Sherlock -- and think I've worked out what Ava's behaviour is too. Any guesses?</div>
Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-23659486178949967322018-01-24T06:00:00.000+11:002018-01-24T06:00:03.055+11:00Wordless Wednesday: Dodge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYZbJShhyphenhyphenzGJVw9FOnt18NcVznIqlman6eyX3tx4OltWb4hf_Lpf1qb5lb3zeeNQLaczDkGHxGMxpkgeNVq5S6eB_EQoT56HVJvtMJkuEfaZZgU2obx8OMRTNuuPnoxU51D90QV76AFPC/s1600/DSCF8620+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYZbJShhyphenhyphenzGJVw9FOnt18NcVznIqlman6eyX3tx4OltWb4hf_Lpf1qb5lb3zeeNQLaczDkGHxGMxpkgeNVq5S6eB_EQoT56HVJvtMJkuEfaZZgU2obx8OMRTNuuPnoxU51D90QV76AFPC/s640/DSCF8620+%25282%2529.JPG" width="424" /></a></div>
<br />Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-5920920925983822882018-01-11T08:31:00.000+11:002018-01-11T08:32:16.081+11:00Thoughtful Thursday: Listen to Your Dog<blockquote class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-permalink="https://www.instagram.com/p/BdyKtwagV-E/" data-instgrm-version="8" style="background: #fff; border-radius: 3px; border: 0; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.5) , 0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 658px; padding: 0; width: 99.375%;">
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BdyKtwagV-E/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Smudge was barking at the door, presumably to go out to play/bark at the neighbours. Now, everyone knows how hard-line I am -- no barking for attention, you can go out when I let you out, etc etc. But *I'd* called Smudge in, a little while ago (due to barking at other dogs -- too early! 🌤). She'd been out with her bone toy. Now she was shut in and bone was outside. I opened the door for her to go get it. After she'd brought it in, she settled down to chew it while I made breakfast. Sometimes, listening to your dog isn't that hard. #listentoyourdog #newyearsresolution #choices #dogtrainingthoughts #thinkythoughts</a></div>
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A post shared by <a href="https://www.instagram.com/melondious/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px;" target="_blank"> Melon</a> (@melondious) on <time datetime="2018-01-10T21:22:20+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Jan 10, 2018 at 1:22pm PST</time></div>
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<script async="" defer="" src="//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js"></script>Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-47358925527712114632017-12-27T06:35:00.000+11:002017-12-27T06:35:40.323+11:00Wordless Wednesday: Smudge's Favourite Thing (Christmas Edition)<div style="text-align: center;">
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Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-34632773592836249922017-12-23T21:22:00.001+11:002017-12-23T21:22:54.142+11:00In Which We Examine Smudge's Favourite ThingIn the photo of Smudge in my last post, she had a denim bone. This is a toy I hand-sewed from old jeans (stuffed with polyfill and a couple of squeakers) and is Smudge's favourite thing at Chez Melon.<br />
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She runs around squeaking it, tossing it up in the air and chasing it, barking at it and growling while she shakes it.<br />
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She takes it with her on patrol...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It may be useful on my quest.</td></tr>
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She carries it when hanging out...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the humans to come out and play.</td></tr>
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She picks it up when anyone enters the room and gives you <i>this </i>look.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You wanna play, right?</td></tr>
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She can run, pee and bark with the bone in her mouth, although I don't have photographic evidence of this.<br />
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She also sometimes sits in bed with it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not sleepy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not if you wanna go and play.</td></tr>
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What's your dog's favourite object?</div>
Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-53436469803001755072017-12-19T21:00:00.002+11:002017-12-19T21:03:34.252+11:00Character Study: A Gal Called SmudgeHello dear readers. I hope you're all enjoying the lead-up to Christmas, and aren't <i>too </i>busy with preparations!
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And now to my latest furry companion...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smudge, 1.5 yrs old</td></tr>
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Smudge is a young spoodle (cocker spaniel x toy poodle) who will be living with me over the summer while her humans are away. </div>
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She's only been here a few days but I have discovered that she is quite the character!</div>
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For one, she's a chatterbox. She likes to narrate her day with a variety of whines, barks and growls. She can be extremely vocal about us leaving the room, although she has since realised that we aren't going to disappear if we go into the hallway. She barks at her toys before pouncing on them. She barks excitedly about food and walks. Sometimes she whines <i>loudly </i>(for no discernable reason). And her growls while wrestling her toys are really quite formidable! </div>
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I guess you could say she has a flair for the dramatic.</div>
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She's also very clever. While filming her enthusiasm for toys, I caught a moment where her toy got stuck in the chair and she effortlessly solved the problem: </div>
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The other interesting thing about Smudge is that every member of the family interacts with her in some way. Now, I am the dogsitter. And my dad loves the dogs and always slips them treats (to my constant exasperation), and lets them follow him around the garden and drink from his watering can.</div>
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My mum, however, rarely interacts directly with the dogs except to tell me how cute they look doing something. But as she loves to see Smudge play so joyfully, mum's played fetch with her a few times outside. Now <i>every single time </i>mum enters the room Smudge picks up a toy and runs to the garden door. And every single time mum feels guilty... and most times she goes out with her "just for five minutes". </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is fun! Throw it again!</td></tr>
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It's going to be an interesting summer!</div>
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Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-60678358015782358552017-11-29T16:36:00.001+11:002017-11-29T16:36:39.691+11:00Wordless Wednesday: Visit from a Polar Bear<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-7857108664873775192017-11-21T11:23:00.000+11:002017-11-21T11:23:54.249+11:00On Choice, Ethics and DarcyI recently attended the Association of Pet Dog Trainers (APDT) Australia annual conference. One of the messages threaded through many of the speakers' talks, I feel, was about accepting our learners (dogs and other animals) for who they are. Knowing the innate tendencies of species and breeds is part of it. But giving animals choices is another.<br />
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I'm lucky to come into animal training at a time where the 'progressive' notions of positive reinforcement and such are becoming mainstream. But I think the idea of 'free choice' -- what I think of as 'autonomy' -- is still pretty novel. I've always believed that training is for a better lifestyle -- as in, if my dog is well-trained she can come to more places with me and have a better quality of life. But people like behaviourist <a href="http://www.behaviorworks.org/" target="_blank">Dr Susan Friedman</a> take it one step further when she says that training isn't manipulation; instead, giving more skills gives more choice. She asks us to explore how we can ask questions in our training -- how can we ask a bird if he really wants to step on our hand to be picked up? Does a dog really want to put her paw out to have her nails clipped? If we teach her to put her paw forward, she can choose at the time whether or not to do so.<br />
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It's a couple of weeks later, and I've just started Mechtild Käufer's <i>Canine Play Behaviour: The Science of Dogs at Play</i>. In the introduction she mentions that dog owners often say 'My dog loves me the way I am'. And I, Melon, agree, they do! But Käufer then flips the question -- do we love our dogs just the way they are? Or do we try to "train and mould our dogs into an ideal" (Kaufer p2)? I'd say yes. Many of us trainers judge owners who do no training and just complain about their dogs' behaviour, saying they don't understand how dogs work. Which is probably true. (For more info, read Jean Donaldson's <i>The Culture Clash </i>-- it's amazing.) But <i>we </i>know how dogs work -- and we just train them into what we want. Isn't that kinda unethical?<br />
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Which brings me to <a href="https://melonsanimaladventures.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Darcy" target="_blank">mister Darcy</a>. I've written before about my struggles walking him because he pulls, chases moving objects and stops to dig holes. (Or rather, <a href="http://melonsanimaladventures.blogspot.com/2017/05/guest-post-trouble-with-walking-humans.html" target="_blank">he wrote about the troubles walking with us</a>! Telling, isn't it?). I also wrote about the progress we've made through reward-based training -- which has made life a bit easier. But it's still a struggle walking him, and the fact that he probably sees me (holding the lead) as an obstacle to what he wants (to run at the birds/insects/shrubs/leaves/people) probably means that, well, I <b>am </b>an obstacle to what he wants. And that's not very nice, isn't?<br />
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So what am I going to do about it? I don't have a concrete plan. But at the conference animal trainer <a href="https://animaltrainingsolutions.com.au/" target="_blank">Peta Clarke</a> discussed using reinforcers other than food -- like chasing birds for her bulldog. He knows that the freedom to go chase them comes from her, so he'll wait for her cue to go do so. She gives him the cue to go chase them as much as she can because he enjoys it! She has control but he also feels he has control.<br />
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Since I realised a lot of Darcy's pulling on the lead is actually towards moving objects (he'll dart forward and then I see a small moth nearby), I've been thinking about putting it on cue, as she did. I don't want Darcy to see me as the obstacle to his fun, nor do I want to deprive him of what he obviously finds very rewarding! But I have some logistics to work out -- I mean, I can't just cue him to chase birds on a leash walk down the street. He'll just get frustrated as he hits the end of the lead, not to mention a sore neck when he goes <i>boing</i>!<br />
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I'll keep you posted -- all comments, ideas and suggestions welcome.Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-64417648342015923212017-11-16T21:18:00.001+11:002017-11-16T21:18:05.819+11:00Throwback Thursday: Itty Bitty Darcy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What do I do with it?</td></tr>
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(It's a <a href="http://melonsanimaladventures.blogspot.com/2016/08/a-surprise-in-mailbox.html" target="_blank">tug toy for mice</a>, silly pup.) <br />
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D'artagnan aka Darcy at 9 weeks old.Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-33340721330697302332017-09-27T10:44:00.000+10:002017-09-27T10:53:39.878+10:00Wordless Wednesday: Chomp<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVKXo0_IrjNi4-VRPias4AX8TFifRnAgRS0anXI1l1wmWUy-FZT3mGEDw9l4l1g35OltLDj-K18bQ2-8dwbYQMH9YnWammEwPY1eQ5D28Bx94Ak61rYB_buqQqulCL88ZoEnv2pAZuHn3/s1600/DSCF8305+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="birds eye view of french bulldog puppy lying on grass, mouth wide open with rope toy" border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVKXo0_IrjNi4-VRPias4AX8TFifRnAgRS0anXI1l1wmWUy-FZT3mGEDw9l4l1g35OltLDj-K18bQ2-8dwbYQMH9YnWammEwPY1eQ5D28Bx94Ak61rYB_buqQqulCL88ZoEnv2pAZuHn3/s640/DSCF8305+%25282%2529.JPG" title="" width="640" /></a></div>
Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-56383403953555450632017-09-26T23:02:00.001+10:002017-09-26T23:02:42.225+10:00Training Tuesday: Crate Work with Coco<blockquote class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-version="7" style="background: #fff; border-radius: 3px; border: 0; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.5) , 0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 658px; padding: 0; width: 99.375%;">
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BZgUJblgqBm/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">15 week old Coco is learning to go to her crate when asked. 🐕 (Please excuse my super clumsy treat delivery!) #dogtraining #puppy #puppytraining #frenchbulldog</a></div>
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A post shared by Melon (@melondious) on <time datetime="2017-09-26T12:52:51+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Sep 26, 2017 at 5:52am PDT</time></div>
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<script async="" defer="" src="//platform.instagram.com/en_US/embeds.js"></script>Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-64422640495777158892017-09-24T20:42:00.001+10:002017-09-24T20:42:05.480+10:00Sunday Funday: Rope Toy Romps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Do you guys remember the <a href="http://melonsanimaladventures.blogspot.com.au/2016/08/a-surprise-in-mailbox.html" target="_blank">rope toy for mice</a>? Okay, it's not really for mice. But it's so small I didn't know <i>what </i>it was for... until Coco showed me!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First, you pounce!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCDOttWuZDzvVUmlMTlRVAMqmstoYldAXbs8UNF86i6fi8Ga1lHBst97zCbI5Wq0J5v54EJ3jpSxD8tCE6Apt3lccvYn_94L3hCAVrVblxKDHJkhqGWEmwRh2i4O7Pfs8vzLiPJBxmfI0/s1600/DSCF8289+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCDOttWuZDzvVUmlMTlRVAMqmstoYldAXbs8UNF86i6fi8Ga1lHBst97zCbI5Wq0J5v54EJ3jpSxD8tCE6Apt3lccvYn_94L3hCAVrVblxKDHJkhqGWEmwRh2i4O7Pfs8vzLiPJBxmfI0/s640/DSCF8289+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then, you shake...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YK1hsctjLGCTAV6kDxYkWroKRJfyl6K3L1ZiW52a02b998wWjwLxeomGHxGyTuxI72q1l-jA9sKsp-wYlAJ5jfsQgbxxMvXu4nywo8sPhEK77GPZdQkEJCqz2B2_hIVI4RQwGoTPRrXa/s1600/DSCF8290+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YK1hsctjLGCTAV6kDxYkWroKRJfyl6K3L1ZiW52a02b998wWjwLxeomGHxGyTuxI72q1l-jA9sKsp-wYlAJ5jfsQgbxxMvXu4nywo8sPhEK77GPZdQkEJCqz2B2_hIVI4RQwGoTPRrXa/s640/DSCF8290+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wheee!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-83709168514757293362017-09-23T12:08:00.000+10:002017-09-23T12:08:06.725+10:00A Visitor: Of the Baby Puppy VarietyIt's puppy time!
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<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimFP0jG7T24pAceRnY_q2_6bOm7gV9Mh2yaSIi4HluDcOeU0FTOG1_KV2Ol-aC_MvA1w6M1pKZSuPB1ytIzGwEH8zHvOmFLgKGyLk_jRwHbsDYgEDNAEdpDq9q_lXZDfCUKnXdpe6dIbNe/s1600/DSCF8242+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimFP0jG7T24pAceRnY_q2_6bOm7gV9Mh2yaSIi4HluDcOeU0FTOG1_KV2Ol-aC_MvA1w6M1pKZSuPB1ytIzGwEH8zHvOmFLgKGyLk_jRwHbsDYgEDNAEdpDq9q_lXZDfCUKnXdpe6dIbNe/s640/DSCF8242+%25283%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br />
This is Coco. She's a 15 week old French bulldog staying with me this week.</div>
<div>
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<div>
She's teeny tiny -- or at least she seems that way to me, despite spending most of my days with Cavaliers. I guess it's easy to forget how little and babyish puppies are! </div>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkEkEs3nFw1OMd3XSFeZe8yIImPXe4L9RbcBzbjZyj1sCtNf6nO1LT9jLXYLSzWDxXd4A1NzP5SXgVbh1pi_qmI82X0_pxieIgmO5ytusXg1BAULBlqPCPTdghJTIHQT3szcSl9Tpqus2b/s1600/DSCF8250+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkEkEs3nFw1OMd3XSFeZe8yIImPXe4L9RbcBzbjZyj1sCtNf6nO1LT9jLXYLSzWDxXd4A1NzP5SXgVbh1pi_qmI82X0_pxieIgmO5ytusXg1BAULBlqPCPTdghJTIHQT3szcSl9Tpqus2b/s640/DSCF8250+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Human, what is this?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br />
It's early days, but I'm pretty sure we're going to get along. She's confident, which I love, and curious without being a pest. And we've had a couple of good games of tug-of-war. Stay tuned for video!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She wasn't a fan of being put in the laundry for a nap (puppy alone training: starting above threshold -- oops) but has settled into having her pen in our main living area. From there she is now happy for us to leave and return. She had a good sleep in her crate last night, too. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Coco likes to explore the yard, and frequently engages in what I'm fairly sure is scent marking. Has anyone else seen scent marking from such a young dog?<br />
<br />
Otherwise, we are having fun. It can be tiring to keep up with puppy routines, but I'm looking forward to showing Coco the big wide world, which is always my favourite thing to do with puppies.<br />
<br />
And, like all puppies, she sleeps like an angel.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Wf_41t5nkXNr1_W1becnqkiXXsD43X5zOnOTlAdPzEfisiRVktQaIQumgXlBnnA45y_VcXr1VaL__FI9eccCkYISrMKXWdSR1Ntjv5d1fNIxgkGPGr4X5svJvq0ZZho0jYdE0veTDeuS/s1600/DSCF8315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Wf_41t5nkXNr1_W1becnqkiXXsD43X5zOnOTlAdPzEfisiRVktQaIQumgXlBnnA45y_VcXr1VaL__FI9eccCkYISrMKXWdSR1Ntjv5d1fNIxgkGPGr4X5svJvq0ZZho0jYdE0veTDeuS/s640/DSCF8315.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zzz.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-20284873993302035382017-09-06T06:00:00.000+10:002017-09-06T06:00:00.398+10:00Wordless Wednesday: It's A Dog's Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjmYweJbTOqLmwgnKTWvCaTmpOM56si0XAXmOL9MNk4AP8O7tUbR2cRaS1W80g9gPYwQ6JE7ePGnLGyaXH8irfcCeuY_0UBkGgFtyGVWmcY3rKwGq0VEc-b4tlETgV6X5weaL909GGdtX/s1600/DSCF8117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Large golden retriever head, eyes closed, fills the screen. Sunny day with blue sky and swing set in background." border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjmYweJbTOqLmwgnKTWvCaTmpOM56si0XAXmOL9MNk4AP8O7tUbR2cRaS1W80g9gPYwQ6JE7ePGnLGyaXH8irfcCeuY_0UBkGgFtyGVWmcY3rKwGq0VEc-b4tlETgV6X5weaL909GGdtX/s640/DSCF8117.JPG" title="" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-8820885418557939502017-09-05T18:13:00.000+10:002017-09-05T18:13:45.111+10:00In Which Being A Dog-less Dog Lover Has Its PerksI'll be honest. Being a dog-less dog lover -- much less dog trainer -- sucks.<br />
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But <i>sometimes</i>, it provides unique opportunities.<br />
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Last night, I went to obedience club, even though I wasn't rostered to teach. The other instructors often bring their own dogs to train when they aren't teaching. But, of course, I don't have a dog of my own. No matter. I could just watch a class -- there's always something to learn about teaching [humans], and training [dogs], by watching others.<br />
<br />
But then my colleague Ryan, who <i>was</i> teaching last night, offered to lend me his dog, Barney, so I could participate in a class.<br />
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I felt a bit of a thrill as I took Barney and joined the line of students waiting for our instructor. (Not Ryan -- we run many different classes.) Now, I have taken <a href="http://melonsanimaladventures.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Ava" target="_blank">Miss Ava</a> in class before. But this felt different -- probably because I've never worked with Barney before! So I imagine the feeling was one part 'I hope I don't embarrass myself' and two parts 'hey, this is cool'.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi3v5sJ9DttL3Yyl97IR7HOFYXzkiD3d4EFY_31FQEHie5Na16FR1qI11C-0uSADIs2_AZCD1foM8179Yu9SvGZX16-yYelX4Q-HtXWLJ5epsNqXvvDFj3qxxQh1SBvYzIuqz7CXgpXIfs/s1600/File+5-9-17%252C+4+43+46+pm.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi3v5sJ9DttL3Yyl97IR7HOFYXzkiD3d4EFY_31FQEHie5Na16FR1qI11C-0uSADIs2_AZCD1foM8179Yu9SvGZX16-yYelX4Q-HtXWLJ5epsNqXvvDFj3qxxQh1SBvYzIuqz7CXgpXIfs/s640/File+5-9-17%252C+4+43+46+pm.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What are we waiting for?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It turned out to be a bunch of fun! Barney is a <i>wonderful </i>dog. Very, very laid-back for a young labrador, and he was very responsive to me, despite the fact that, well, he doesn't know me! Even more impressive was the fact that Ryan was about 10m away, walking around and calling instructions to his class. I've seen dogs in class ignore the 50-60 other strange dogs and their handlers working around them, but lose all focus because their other human, fur-sibling or doggy friend are elsewhere on the field.<br />
<br />
But Barney, absolutely <i>cool </i>dog that he is, was content just to glance over at Ryan when we took breaks. Loyal, but composed.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh92WZRQEtPH8AZEPjs7X_GcXF8_SNQdth1L83sd5yOzyJTCAKeiPYkApZ1plbEOSyYfpsSD8-yWHMoxHkpyXiNK7LhW3hamRtAB6g5uhR_9NtPUGXTW7CeESmICoRV5FILeRqo4fuMtyHz/s1600/File+5-9-17%252C+4+45+13+pm.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh92WZRQEtPH8AZEPjs7X_GcXF8_SNQdth1L83sd5yOzyJTCAKeiPYkApZ1plbEOSyYfpsSD8-yWHMoxHkpyXiNK7LhW3hamRtAB6g5uhR_9NtPUGXTW7CeESmICoRV5FILeRqo4fuMtyHz/s640/File+5-9-17%252C+4+45+13+pm.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I may be lanky, but I'm cooler than James Dean.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It was a great night. I'm grateful to Ryan for lending him to me, to the instructors at club who trust us with crazy shenanigans, and to my classmate who always gives me great training (and teaching) advice every time we see each other.<br />
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And of course this dude, who made my night! I'm still grinning.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMYuTBU0GTUFiFPPo5sNdDRRSr459knPTRhDuP9pdY26U1Uklvgwch8xuNcylgh3XNm6F-RwwkD6cNrzMQIsVSEs6WkxnPLcX0k6_I6C9uhPnwYVxtEAArrrg28znULhsu1Ef-CknUz1a/s1600/File+5-9-17%252C+4+46+14+pm.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMYuTBU0GTUFiFPPo5sNdDRRSr459knPTRhDuP9pdY26U1Uklvgwch8xuNcylgh3XNm6F-RwwkD6cNrzMQIsVSEs6WkxnPLcX0k6_I6C9uhPnwYVxtEAArrrg28znULhsu1Ef-CknUz1a/s640/File+5-9-17%252C+4+46+14+pm.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's cool, you can pay me in treats.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Being dog-less in the dog industry is a weird place to be. But sometimes, cool things happen.Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-1871559414635942582017-09-04T14:18:00.000+10:002017-09-04T14:18:38.783+10:00A Feature: In Which We Discover The Truth of Being a Café DogKeisha here to tell you about the life of a café dog.
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<br />
Sometimes the scratches need some work...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZFxsqfrzcQiFs8EUTRGdlbqz88aFMnFBp50O75f4DYMmqw2bJrfOQjzrVCiUixNHX-jUKrXl-Lalm5gkq6A9mb-xdKaD1wScZdMp5PpVNmhpivfYRIVh7YGqTcCPuLZ1khsIaAeZY3cA/s1600/DSCF8121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZFxsqfrzcQiFs8EUTRGdlbqz88aFMnFBp50O75f4DYMmqw2bJrfOQjzrVCiUixNHX-jUKrXl-Lalm5gkq6A9mb-xdKaD1wScZdMp5PpVNmhpivfYRIVh7YGqTcCPuLZ1khsIaAeZY3cA/s640/DSCF8121.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little to the right.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4c_d3_-GuwyPg2r-8Ma1Y3HpDFcMQ0nd73bPUEjenJN5rXThPTBHDKNGp0UVFHJvOzd_uEsm8w6Aan8FeAZB8ad7ArC01mCbvp6f9HI0BB9XMAwU6SfFKZwvFes2LSan6OmHDO9ePoghp/s1600/DSCF8120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4c_d3_-GuwyPg2r-8Ma1Y3HpDFcMQ0nd73bPUEjenJN5rXThPTBHDKNGp0UVFHJvOzd_uEsm8w6Aan8FeAZB8ad7ArC01mCbvp6f9HI0BB9XMAwU6SfFKZwvFes2LSan6OmHDO9ePoghp/s640/DSCF8120.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">There we go.<br />
<div>
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</tbody></table>
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Sometimes people want to give you hugs.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1JCQE2ifI5e4Tsq57psc8KEJ8cSpwy076Udrff0CIb7TgoHjc8w93NxeI4vCJi-HJcuemGcFtztW3FxicCj-kb381OTBrjjiBDn8hlM4-pKEn245EMOLjs05fWY03Fx4fTYPNx8lyvnm/s1600/DSCF8130-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1JCQE2ifI5e4Tsq57psc8KEJ8cSpwy076Udrff0CIb7TgoHjc8w93NxeI4vCJi-HJcuemGcFtztW3FxicCj-kb381OTBrjjiBDn8hlM4-pKEn245EMOLjs05fWY03Fx4fTYPNx8lyvnm/s640/DSCF8130-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm so cute you can't stand it?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TwjzkpNSdPtrY1UgyEmfbHgCahqOEyxkvW844UjNrLYbPBsD2qp09abjW83pK2IXQG3z6Yh7vjhYnbZhIYin9gFtC4znXBO6yTgXoIFunNfc0yXjkxULPqqOjGlG5e6OQHApO2fuuDyx/s1600/DSCF8131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TwjzkpNSdPtrY1UgyEmfbHgCahqOEyxkvW844UjNrLYbPBsD2qp09abjW83pK2IXQG3z6Yh7vjhYnbZhIYin9gFtC4znXBO6yTgXoIFunNfc0yXjkxULPqqOjGlG5e6OQHApO2fuuDyx/s640/DSCF8131.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There, there, human.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's a hard life, but someone's gotta do it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4n-DxFvTFNmzz18bKiIc05EAkCrsfdVSG17WnFWJpGUq0eN_nSoL21rozJ1b4Cr_WJmHnafMEsUwPMOm8sivPs4dmQhr859tVN9NXzwjzWR2SrUv1aonOz1Ha60uB46O32_puLMI8VDS6/s1600/DSCF8125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4n-DxFvTFNmzz18bKiIc05EAkCrsfdVSG17WnFWJpGUq0eN_nSoL21rozJ1b4Cr_WJmHnafMEsUwPMOm8sivPs4dmQhr859tVN9NXzwjzWR2SrUv1aonOz1Ha60uB46O32_puLMI8VDS6/s640/DSCF8125.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guess I can make the sacrifice.</td></tr>
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Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-38354301036640237842017-08-31T20:27:00.000+10:002017-08-31T20:51:46.936+10:00A Report: In Which Keisha Writes HomeYou know how when you go on holiday and you arrive at your destination, you send your family a message to let them know that you've arrived safely? (One of the many wonders of technology.)<br />
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Well, our latest houseguest would like to check in with her humans from her current vacation spot at Chez Melon.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hi guys!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's me, Keisha.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melon says I should tell you what I did today.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well, I went for a walk.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then, I had dinner.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What did I do next?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Better get comfy while I try to remember.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Then... then...</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCkbG4mVkHWD6ljCT3KnWkjd69zhlI2kDtUbSCAHnH5en_lQdKgijCQkXJwVCo1kcms9Oz8t2x453NsX6AZLsZs8NHJ7bXbIIECR9vzn4RDUcxqnLJsO10kQHMsgzaNwwbc1eVb7FaR9hyphenhyphen/s1600/DSCF8103+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCkbG4mVkHWD6ljCT3KnWkjd69zhlI2kDtUbSCAHnH5en_lQdKgijCQkXJwVCo1kcms9Oz8t2x453NsX6AZLsZs8NHJ7bXbIIECR9vzn4RDUcxqnLJsO10kQHMsgzaNwwbc1eVb7FaR9hyphenhyphen/s640/DSCF8103+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmmff.</td></tr>
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Hey, Keisha? Keisha, it's Melon. Did you have anything more to add? You awake?<i> Keisha? Helllooo?</i><br />
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... hmm. Guess that's all for now, folks!Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-74549045776280899522017-08-20T10:22:00.000+10:002017-08-20T10:22:12.097+10:00A Visit: In Which A Rather Pleasant Houseguest Comes to StayRemember Apollo, the Golden Retriever who really knows how to relax?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMnMqCNdVndj1T0xqGQxv6RtfUxHMCpP7e8TzX2kUnaiLC_i9s1CdlQZsBFEeSHENIHcU_9zKhrLUQkcVDaELkXNlsO23OqDgwsbb-NpXe_VFhoiP2V4kEIzBzk4NpsTHTimRrPsEhWTO/s1600/IMG_6062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMnMqCNdVndj1T0xqGQxv6RtfUxHMCpP7e8TzX2kUnaiLC_i9s1CdlQZsBFEeSHENIHcU_9zKhrLUQkcVDaELkXNlsO23OqDgwsbb-NpXe_VFhoiP2V4kEIzBzk4NpsTHTimRrPsEhWTO/s640/IMG_6062.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lifesaver float is not for him... BOL!</td></tr>
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Well, he stayed with us again for about a week and it was great. He's an easy dog.<br />
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For one, he really knows how to relax.<br />
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No, really -- despite his size he is relaxed in the house, never counter-surfs or paws the humans.
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And he's an easy walker, which is great because at ~45kgs (at a guess), he needs all the walks he can get!<br />
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Lastly, he carries his bunny everywhere, which is, quite frankly, adorable.<br />
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Come back anytime, Apollo. You're always welcome.Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-6521096506057221182017-08-18T07:00:00.000+10:002017-08-18T07:00:12.367+10:00Flashback Friday: It's Gatsby Time!Things are still happening around here, but we've had some technical difficulties and the human has a bit of a cold. So while those updates are still coming, I think it's time for a flashback!<br />
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Miss Gatsby is the first dog who ever boarded at my house. She's a beautiful Japanese Spitz and was just a year old when she stayed with me.<br />
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She loves the outdoors and I loved to watch her explore the yard.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She's regal</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And elegant</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixK6nIbDJ8_yAN45dmErDN_LVTLbVHIKXqEXheKFpVn7Oz-KcCtrnblCZyoRZF1pvgZSSVsA2ZN1FiE9sEhIWoVNh5U0Gvy5wDEyhHeNhni3QzeV-Mfg-DC5dgnryt3soo0YWXWYS0pTyz/s1600/DSCF4355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixK6nIbDJ8_yAN45dmErDN_LVTLbVHIKXqEXheKFpVn7Oz-KcCtrnblCZyoRZF1pvgZSSVsA2ZN1FiE9sEhIWoVNh5U0Gvy5wDEyhHeNhni3QzeV-Mfg-DC5dgnryt3soo0YWXWYS0pTyz/s640/DSCF4355.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But silly</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkByONxasNdOUTypI_7WqXgWcPyog5a_-JEzNsu_1HdiMltq2D7xWzsN7QlLLii3qrTPygAev0ES2ZSGtrWELqa3CM-9Ws05p2OWvHa6Sf1AMY49RQrqiDh5u80CvjIludCF4wYTInBJV0/s1600/DSCF4441-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkByONxasNdOUTypI_7WqXgWcPyog5a_-JEzNsu_1HdiMltq2D7xWzsN7QlLLii3qrTPygAev0ES2ZSGtrWELqa3CM-9Ws05p2OWvHa6Sf1AMY49RQrqiDh5u80CvjIludCF4wYTInBJV0/s640/DSCF4441-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And fun.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkroEX_DcIt2T9WpKFh-lec4r0enRB-sMguQ4grMNzV0-0hvRzvcQsTn28OL20k1SHGDW9vRKgEpg23SMarHiXVegRKC3GWxfOOM-dC-qPOQ4LOmyKSmhDtJioBrwQgceRcNdsFFQkCu7E/s1600/IMG_4763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkroEX_DcIt2T9WpKFh-lec4r0enRB-sMguQ4grMNzV0-0hvRzvcQsTn28OL20k1SHGDW9vRKgEpg23SMarHiXVegRKC3GWxfOOM-dC-qPOQ4LOmyKSmhDtJioBrwQgceRcNdsFFQkCu7E/s640/IMG_4763.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Gech!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Most of all, she's sweet and her trust in me when she visited reminded me of what I have to contribute as a trainer and as a companion <i>to </i>the canines.Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-57068338630813292432017-08-07T16:30:00.000+10:002017-08-07T16:30:00.987+10:00Mischief Monday: Shhhh...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHZucrb9UhrQsUT_YZGrbupwX0bnrlAfQd9UxNpvKXr17S5Ci24-m-m0FqLiai3WmpJoZkCK60R5vXzjlL7aJXBe471a0qfmWXBWMzqJxBVAblun8J5irmnSZqvFjjOpbJMJ2xGKBNqmw/s1600/IMG_8161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHZucrb9UhrQsUT_YZGrbupwX0bnrlAfQd9UxNpvKXr17S5Ci24-m-m0FqLiai3WmpJoZkCK60R5vXzjlL7aJXBe471a0qfmWXBWMzqJxBVAblun8J5irmnSZqvFjjOpbJMJ2xGKBNqmw/s640/IMG_8161.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If I stay vewwy vewwy quiet... no one will notice me under here.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuu_Lx1S8v7Bs1UNO4ClpZYrmuXauKoEssPIaZqaqPgIAspCQ_krUSVT4PKVvtLXfUUoyFtXbWYILsqzyedIE80E3H_raZFLbeE3sFiGf-Z4eGp4Gy0ApJsrGbDwmRt-qznnKnrVw8_Jjv/s1600/IMG_8164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuu_Lx1S8v7Bs1UNO4ClpZYrmuXauKoEssPIaZqaqPgIAspCQ_krUSVT4PKVvtLXfUUoyFtXbWYILsqzyedIE80E3H_raZFLbeE3sFiGf-Z4eGp4Gy0ApJsrGbDwmRt-qznnKnrVw8_Jjv/s640/IMG_8164.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right?</td></tr>
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<br />Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-71709098611594376842017-08-05T19:01:00.001+10:002017-08-05T19:01:20.980+10:00The Story Progresses: Melon Has A GraduationA week ago, something cool happened. I became an official instructor at the <a href="http://hillsdogclub.com/index.html" target="_blank">Hills dog obedience club</a>!<br />
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Yes, I've been teaching there for a few months. But I'm a full obedience class instructor now, because I finished the training course. I had a graduation and everything!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPucmo0qSBw_QoFetfIJo67KCwR_zKIBnNasaSbwDcfuc3zsdWsg7OKMp7D1UIacuE1tW8uc90TEVBvCYzTfVtMiFDDOo7w2bKm8JeSGleBZEayfWBoB-m22Fk0I4MLlpYsFDS4X_Kd_-/s1600/File+4-8-17%252C+9+43+04+pm.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPucmo0qSBw_QoFetfIJo67KCwR_zKIBnNasaSbwDcfuc3zsdWsg7OKMp7D1UIacuE1tW8uc90TEVBvCYzTfVtMiFDDOo7w2bKm8JeSGleBZEayfWBoB-m22Fk0I4MLlpYsFDS4X_Kd_-/s400/File+4-8-17%252C+9+43+04+pm.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Honestly, it felt a little weird because for the other graduates, graduation night was the culmination of <i>a year</i> of study and teaching experience. (Also, most grads being significantly older than me, it was a brave step back into the world of study for them.)<br />
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Whereas I joined the course half-way and made up the homework in a short amount of time. Yes, I did the reading and written work. But since that was done alone at the comfort of my desk, it doesn't quite feel the same as a shared adventure with my peers.<br />
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But I'm very glad to be part of the team, excited for the opportunity to contribute and very appreciative of the warm welcome. The club has a really dedicated group of volunteers who teach and organise and do everything else that needs to run an organisation -- and all to benefit the community. So I'm proud to be part of the team, and will have lots of teaching adventures to share!Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-65118200205435319362017-07-25T00:14:00.000+10:002017-07-25T00:14:57.451+10:00A Shout-Out: To The Best Clients EverYou all know how much I love my cavvies, Ava and Darcy. But it's time I told you why.<br />
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I had a difficult week last week. My anxiety triggered a depressive episode so I was missing in action for a few days. Then a client's dog dropped off for boarding turned out to be dangerous, so that had to be (carefully) managed.<br />
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Today, I pulled up outside Ava and Darcy's house. I heard barking and shook my head, thinking they had heard me. But it wasn't them, just a neighbour's dog. Sorry, Darcy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRQEbcKmhRJPsnj6d3cpOqssa5HBUnaEdUD2gsEdeVZ3XTVUdxaSnvqf3mqTGAVeBBZJDRibddzhgDxSzZH_2a8yU4e8GrdBIgsrLxNcd_GUc2hXy0c9L1Nntlx9_tHGlgP7LI3_J-JYY/s1600/DSCF7599+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRQEbcKmhRJPsnj6d3cpOqssa5HBUnaEdUD2gsEdeVZ3XTVUdxaSnvqf3mqTGAVeBBZJDRibddzhgDxSzZH_2a8yU4e8GrdBIgsrLxNcd_GUc2hXy0c9L1Nntlx9_tHGlgP7LI3_J-JYY/s640/DSCF7599+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why do they always suspect me?</td></tr>
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I went in, and their wagging and jumping began, but I wasn't jumped <i>on</i>. Ava waited quietly and Darcy wriggled and leaned on the fence, but he did very well for a 9-month old.<br />
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The pups toileted where they should and amused themselves while I cleaned, ate and took a breather. I was super impressed that they waited for an invitation before availing of my very-accessible lap when I sat in the lawn chair. That is an impressive feat for my sweet-as-pie lapdog friends!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNb7oyHz9nGhvFNt0c8cJU26-5I3iH3F_EpCgLGNYbBnIUEqtRpEKPko6KRwBylslr8mOGwX4mjAx2s3yZc8BqTP2ktp8DUi98bVro6RMLK_sbwfh1MRhx2Daj2mj3wb9WxxSa5D3yO-I/s1600/IMG_2970+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNb7oyHz9nGhvFNt0c8cJU26-5I3iH3F_EpCgLGNYbBnIUEqtRpEKPko6KRwBylslr8mOGwX4mjAx2s3yZc8BqTP2ktp8DUi98bVro6RMLK_sbwfh1MRhx2Daj2mj3wb9WxxSa5D3yO-I/s400/IMG_2970+%25282%2529.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All dogs are bred for a purpose. Ours is to sit in laps.</td></tr>
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To further sweeten the deal, it was a good day for Ava's famous #FOMO (fear of missing out). A handful of kibble in her slow-feeder bowl kept her occupied while I took her brother out for a walk. And 'disaster Darcy' truly is a disaster no more as he walked along, politely greeted a lady who wanted to pat him and waited patiently when I 'parked' his lead under my shoe to chat to a neighbour.<br />
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It was the best tonic after a difficult week.<br />
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Yes, I'm proud of 'my' pups. But the real credit goes to the humans. Christina and Tim have done a marvellous job at raising these two dogs. They are happy, healthy, friendly and fun to be around. This is thanks to the time they've have put into them. Both working full-time with long hours, you wouldn't think they'd be able to put that work into their dogs.<br />
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But Ava and Darcy wouldn't be so <i>good </i>just from my training. Tim's driving the dogs to puppy school and the park, Chris getting up early to take the pups out, diligently bathing, brushing and grooming the dogs so they're used to it. Playing training games and buying endless toys. Their super-sensible attitude, trust in my dog training skills, and willingness to try my suggestions (even the weird ones!) are all what made Ava and Darcy who they are.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWWDBsUkP8sxkAnH1b7jxqk_u-V_FpLdsDk4kLm7KtBG4OcrhZJKvizsT8UoCaiLrKMaKieS4X7lVthBBA5L1zLGm2Uz_jvYebZhr9UHVdE6Krn3Z0RECEw78jPia8TNfOyQCFCd3QXqe/s1600/IMG_6987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWWDBsUkP8sxkAnH1b7jxqk_u-V_FpLdsDk4kLm7KtBG4OcrhZJKvizsT8UoCaiLrKMaKieS4X7lVthBBA5L1zLGm2Uz_jvYebZhr9UHVdE6Krn3Z0RECEw78jPia8TNfOyQCFCd3QXqe/s640/IMG_6987.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't listen to her, Darcy. We're naturally this cute.</td></tr>
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I have the best job because of your two munchkins, guys. They do you great credit.<br />
<br />Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-574014631558661455.post-82279706384695450252017-07-12T07:00:00.000+10:002017-07-12T22:19:49.784+10:00Wordless Wednesday: Upstairs, Downstairs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUg6lpo_ghgtnNOsuc21XSTOTX6XqzDMAqxRax9wphqw31O82DYSBC2tMSvlF-pl6Jxitta8kbIf7mOYTtYfg7KVrxuNOyKE4zKqm81M-58_NRjpFjrPJeWgf1hcR9feLdILbKrJiInJXd/s1600/IMG_7761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUg6lpo_ghgtnNOsuc21XSTOTX6XqzDMAqxRax9wphqw31O82DYSBC2tMSvlF-pl6Jxitta8kbIf7mOYTtYfg7KVrxuNOyKE4zKqm81M-58_NRjpFjrPJeWgf1hcR9feLdILbKrJiInJXd/s1600/IMG_7761.JPG" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakvJ5-uFrdnNg4d1LsVxpPowj43XxjgugCCkGeM9TWZFqLwaaNNE9gviyidqRwR7buO8wKkoq2w7-0ppXnYcoEAatuqb7AgkpmyrFBji93UrZlxL9US7K-uZpCq1-sX9TMJNql0FIYhST/s1600/IMG_7765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakvJ5-uFrdnNg4d1LsVxpPowj43XxjgugCCkGeM9TWZFqLwaaNNE9gviyidqRwR7buO8wKkoq2w7-0ppXnYcoEAatuqb7AgkpmyrFBji93UrZlxL9US7K-uZpCq1-sX9TMJNql0FIYhST/s1600/IMG_7765.JPG" /></a></div>
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Melonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096024678243322835noreply@blogger.com4