For some strange reason, the lyrics to “The Way We Were” have been playing over and over in my mind lately. Not in an obnoxious way like some songs do but no matter what, I can’t seem to purge them from my memory banks. It was just subtle enough to make me wonder about how memories work for dogs.
Dogs don’t have much in the way of short-term memory (in Sam’s case, this didn’t come as any big shock to me). I’ve been putting Calendula gel on Sam’s wound and on the IV insertion point to help the healing process. He despises this daily routine (even though it has made a significant improvement) and it’s been enough of a stimulus to trigger a flight response every time I open any tube or jar..be it hand cream for myself, or whatever. He slinks away quietly and tries to make himself invisible. And yet, he conveniently ‘forgets’ and tries to lick at it every opportunity he can, regardless of how many times I correct him. A recent Stockholm University study found that while dogs do have short-term memory, it can be forgotten in a manner of moments (this underscores a lot where Sam is concerned). Dogs have specialized memories which last much longer and allow them to remember such things as their owners, yet a passerby could be greeted in neutral terms (unless they become a frequent visitor) and will likely be forgotten quickly. I’m still trying to figure out why Sam does not put 2 + 2 together when it comes to the mailman but that’s a whole ‘nutter’ topic and might have something to do with people wearing uniforms because he’s has the same reaction to the UPS delivery guy as well (clearly that guy must also be a serial killer).
While dogs are able to ‘remember’ things, they do it in a different way. Uprights recall personal memories through episodic memory. Simply put, episodic memory is the collection of past personal experiences that occurred at a particular time and place. This is where we basically travel back in time to recall an experience. Dogs don’t have that same process-theirs is associative. Just like putting your shoes and jacket on before taking your pet for a walk, he will become excited whenever you do so because he associates that behavior with the event of going for a walk. It’s the same scenario if the catalyst is the evil vacuum cleaner. Try to recall the first time you brought out the vacuum. Your pup may have gone up to investigate and take a sniff at it. As soon as you turned it on and the infernal racket freaked the dog out, that association colors every other subsequent episode when you drag out the vacuum in the mind of your pup.
You can try to change that association however the stronger it is, the more difficult it will be. The best way is to try to take steps that create new positive associations. I know, easier said than done but worth a try, right? Till then, looks like those memories will light up the corners of my mind…now if I couldn’t only get Ms. Streisand to vacate the premises. Maybe I should listen to a different genre of music to replace the monotonous repetition of those lyrics and create a new association that isn’t so mind-numbing. Any suggestions?
Me and my Shadow was a popular 1927 song co-written by Al Jolson and Billy Rose and one that’s been recorded by a number of people (i.e. Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr., even Liberace, among many others). It was performed by James Caan in the movie Funny Lady. Since returning from California, Me and My Shadow has been more like this.
Notice how Sam is focused on me during a recent walk rather than on the road ahead of him? More often than not when I’m working on the laptop, his head is squarely laying on my thigh or in my lap. If I’m on the sofa, he’s right there with his head on my thigh or staring at me or laying as close to my feet as he can possibly get. He follows me throughout the day rarely leaving my side. Instinctively, I start to pet him because he’s so sweet and soft but after 5-10 minutes of petting, I’ll stop and he just stays there or he’ll settle down laying right next to me or on top of my feet.
Because his leg was vastly improved (many thanks for all the well wishes), we went back to the hospital for the first time since September (you may recall we took a leave of absence from our pet therapy work while mom was in hospice and recovering from her recent health issues).
Sam seems somewhat unsure of himself at the hospital. He kept looking to me for guidance and encouragement. He has not been particularly focused on patients. He seemed to relish the time with the nurses (perhaps a light came on in his pea brain about them always having treats to offer?) but the patients and visitors it was more of a ‘meh’ kind of reaction. Take it or leave it, he could go either way…until we encountered a young man carrying his 13-month old daughter down the hallway. Sam seemed pretty eager to check them out so I led the way. His tail was wagging furiously and the fellow was very complimentary about him. He kept asking his daughter is she wanted to pet the puppy but she was kind of nonplussed (maybe Sam’s size intimidated her) but Sam was unwilling to drop it. He started pawing at the man’s knee-something he’s NEVER done before. At last the man bent down and had his little girl touch Sam. She still wasn’t all that impressed, but Sam was happy as a clam at high tide and the guy was pleased Sam was ever so gently and sweet while she pet him.
We had another encounter in a hallway with a deaf man who had an interpreter with him. Sam was only slightly interested in him and far more interested in the interpreter but in keeping with his ethos, he zeroed in on her (perhaps she needed a visit more than the fella did?). Hard to say but I do trust Sam’s ability to decide those things even when others may think he’s not that great since he doesn’t fawn over all patients at times. Sometimes its the visitors who need his kind of attention and energy more than the patients do.
It might take some time getting back into the swing of things doing what Sam does best but I’m watching him. Till then, I’ll be humming the song…Me and My Shaad-ddow.🎶
Me and my shadow
Strolling down the avenue
Me and my shadow
Not a soul to tell our troubles to
And when it’s twelve o’clock
We climb the stair
We never knock
For nobody’s there
Just me and my shadow
All alone and feelin’ blue
And when it’s twelve o’clock
We climb the stair
We never knock
For nobody’s there
Selection. Lately I’ve been losing sleep. And whenever that happens, often a song pops into my head. You know the feeling. No matter how you try to forget it, that song plays in the background. Most of the time, insomnia is just annoying but often it has been the impetus for some of my best thoughts, decisions and revelations.
What am I losing sleep over these days…relates to trying to find a suitable addition for Sam. When Sam joined the household over 7 years ago, there were already two Old English Sheepdogs in residence (because obviously I couldn’t mop drool, kibbles, pieces of grass and twigs up enough). Both were delightful joys and both very different personalities. Eliot was the curmudgeon worry-wort and Puck…she was named for the Shakespearean character from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and completely lived up to the moniker. Sam was thoroughly captivated by her in his ‘paw-sinova’ mind. When both of the OES’s moved across the Rainbow Bridge, he took both their absences hard, but especially Puck’s.
Thankfully the song currently playing is one I actually like as opposed to one I despise: One Republic’s, Counting Stars (though very weird video), “Lately I’ve been, I’ve been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be.” I have been earnestly looking to add to our home but keep getting hung up on the selection process and the question, “Are you the one?” Can you even call it a pack when there’s just two to start?
We recently had the opportunity to bring an adorably sweet and gorgeous little sister home with us. Her family situation had dramatically changed and she was perfect. Four years old, fabulous charcoal colored Standard, with soulful brown eyes and a boundless energy for chasing balls. Maybe that was it (Sam’s lack of ball playing interest is well known and he couldn’t even catch a cold if he tried, let alone a ball), but after the initial sniff and greet, he was mostly nonplussed (maybe because she left him in a cloud of dust when he tried to chase after her-seriously that girl had some wheels and it just might not have been the most confidence building trait in his mind–a male ego thing maybe?). At any rate, after carefully examining our personal circumstances, we I ultimately passed and it left me wondering, how do you know when it’s the right one?
When I first found out Sam was available, I wasn’t completely sure about the timing and certainly didn’t have a strong feeling about whether or not he was the perfect one as I do now. I cannot even fathom him not being my bud. Oh sure, I was excited at the prospect of bringing a Standard into the fold (my last Standard had crossed the Rainbow Bridge a number of years before). I always wanted to have another but wasn’t quite 100% sure if it was a spot on idea and there were already 2 big dogs in the house and he was very different from past poodles. Still I brought this somewhat aloof and decidedly goofball dog home. Trust me when I say he’s still a goofball but back then he was goofy in different ways. He had no experience with city life and it showed. Now he’s just wonderfully goofy but very city acclimated and I wouldn’t change a hair on his head because of it.
For about the last year or so, I’ve been scouring poodle rescue sites locally and nationally, applied for countless available dogs with various organizations and talked with numerous folks about adding another brother or sister. I already know that a puppy probably wouldn’t be right for us, a somewhat seasoned dog would be a much better fit so breeder shopping isn’t something I’ve considered. I’m looking for another companion to add and want to do the right thing by rescuing a dog whose life circumstances have changed and who needs a loving home in which to thrive. We’ve got love to spare and have been viewed as an ideal applicant, but…I haven’t been able to figure what makes one better or more desirable than another? Is it that soulful eye contact, the nudging under an arm to ‘pet me, pet me!’ or that relaxed sigh when they’re contently laying next to you hogging the sofa or bed? Or is it just old fashioned chemistry? Is it all of that or something more intrinsic? What defines being smitten?
How do you determine that special quality that makes you know “this is the one for us?” or do you just let it play out? And yes, I am aware that all of the pups that I’ve checked out thus far may not have been perfect for any number of reasons, yet I think there might be something else, something deeper and I’m definitely on a quest to figure that out. This is probably why Counting Stars is playing in my brain non-stop and keeping me awake at night. Something, somewhere is definitely trying to tell me something but I’m not sure what that is just yet. Got any answers?
How did you know the pup you chose was the right one for you? Leave us a paw print with your thoughts and how you selected the perfect one and when you knew it was perfect because I definitely need a good night’s sleep. 🎶🎶🎶
Remember that 1964 pop song ‘Leader of the Pack‘ by The Shangri-Las (dear lord, did hair really look like that back in the 60’s-OMG!). It was a pretty decent hit for the girl band and a moderate cover hit for Twisted Sister in 1985 (among others) about teenage tragedy. But what I mean by leader of the pack here relates to ‘leadership.’ Wikipedia says this about leadership: “…described as “a process of social influence in which a person can enlist the aid and support of others in the accomplishment of a common task.” The dictionary defines leadership as apersonwhoguidesordirectsa group, providing guidance or direction. When it comes to our dogs, we definitely provide support and direction. We are their caretakers, making sure they remain safe. As owners we are charged with their safekeeping, we provide a pack that they may thrive, shelter from storms, food and love. This is what they need, this is what we do if we’re responsible pet owners.
Another aspect of the dynamic relationship with our fur-kids is loyalty. We are faithful and devoted to them and they to us. It’s a unique bond between biped and canine and I had an opportunity to view the two side by side the other evening when I was out in the garden. I often let Sam hang with me in the garden while I putz around pulling Sumac seedlings (will they never end?), watering, etc. He loves being outside keeping an eye on me, sniffing to his heart’s content without me nagging him to move along but mostly he loves to greet passers-by. A couple of women who live nearby stroll by frequently with their pup and Sam absolutely adores both of them. He’s isn’t all that crazy about their pooch who even after 2 years still goes immediately for Sam’s ears, but any chance to see either of them, well he’s more than happen to split from the yard to say hi, tail furiously wagging with a big goofy grin on his face. They always laugh at Sam’s goofiness and we chat about the latest goings on in our ‘hood. As soon as Sam spied them, he was gone in a flash, despite my calls to stay screeching. That dog was on a mission and it didn’t involve me. Luckily he didn’t run out into the street and no one was hurt, other than my ego at my lack of ‘leadership’ with him. He leaned heavily against on Roxann’s leg, looking longingly up into her face. He was in heaven with his friend. I called him repeatedly to get back into the yard but my pleas voice went unheard. I walked out to the sidewalk to bring him back and he still refused to budge. We all chuckled about it but it got me to thinking. Why was my dog ignoring me (beyond usual)? Did he not respect my leadership where his interests collided with my commands and his needs?
Then I said, “ok for you, I’m going back inside,” and started back up the walk toward the porch. He then came galloping toward me immediately and then leaned against my leg looking up with those adorably sweet amber eyes. I realized that while my ‘leadership’ may be hit or miss sometimes with Sam, his loyalty can never be questioned. He’ll always be my lap dog, peacefully snoozing away on top of my legs and yes, probably dreaming about the next encounter with one of his neighborhood BFF’s but I know he’ll always be completely mine.
