I wasn’t going to do this post on Bates until his DNA test came back, but that may take a while. We only ordered one test, and since Mel is the oldest, it made sense to test him first. Now I’m thinking it may make sense to see how good of a job they do before I shell out another $60 for Bates test. And besides, it doesn’t really matter what he is, we’re just curious. (So I shelled out a donation to rocky ridge instead – which I highly recommend anyone else reading this do too, and magdrl, and your local shelter – okay public service announcement over.)
So Bates is our loveable, gorgeous rescue mutt. My entire adult life I have had mutts (until darling Breez of course), and I have never had so many comments on having such a good looking dog. Most people think he’s a lab. Yes, he does look a lot like a lab, but on closer inspection, he has no undercoat, a shovel bite (aka severe under bite), a white spot on his chest, a white toe (so much easier to cut that nail), and a rather squareish head. Oh, and he’s actually not black. No, I still can’t see him at night, but put him next to a true black dog, and you see right away that he’s dark dark brown. Dark chocolate. Yum my favorite J So if his DNA comes back full lab, I’ll eat my hat. Washed down with some nice gevalia dark chocolate. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s got a good bit of pitt in him, but shhhhh, don’t tell anyone! I want him to do therapy work with kids, and people around here are weird enough about big dogs around their kids, let alone a pitt!
My husband calls Bates our “suck up” dog. And honestly, I have never known such a people pleaser! It is so refreshing to train a dog like him. He focuses on me so intently, it’s almost unnerving. I swear you could put him in a room full of honey baked hams and yapping ankle biters and I could keep him from eating either with just voice commands. What’s most endearing to me though, is how amazingly good he is with kids. He can be rough and tumble with my two one second, and gentle and calm with my friend’s toddler the next. He’s one of those dogs that just came equipped with that knowledge. I don’t have to tell him to sit for the baby – he just knows.
Funny aside – my friend came over the other day with her girls – ages 4, 6 and 8. The four year old was fearless with the dogs, hugging on Breez (who at 30 inches easily dwarfs her), laying on Bates, just having a grand old time. About an hour in to our visit, Bob (our one tame, and rather large cat) comes strolling in to the house figuring he’d get some attention too. The four year old took one look at Bob and runs screaming for her mom! We had to laugh! The 70 and 90 pound dogs don’t faze her, but watch out for the monster kitty!
Anyway! Back to Bates. Lately I’ve been getting more and more comments on how well Breez behaves, and I’m starting to feel a little guilty taking all the credit. Much as I would like to have people think of me as this fabulous dog whisperer, the reality is, I lucked out. I lucked out that Breez is pretty tractable anyway, but I really lucked out that she is very bonded to Bates, and he is an ideal role model. Take leash walking for instance. With all my other dogs, it took months of stop, sit, change direction, no, don’t pull, no, squirrels are not the spawn of Satan, no, we don’t lunge at the obnoxious ankle biter, and my favorite when I used to run with Mel, recovering from being yanked off my feet because Mel had done his boulder imitation to check out a smell he had to investigate right now.
Bates learned the rules of the leash in one week. No kidding. One week. He was probably 5 or 6 months when we got him, and had never worn a leash or collar. First time on leash he freaked, did a wild horse imitation complete with rearing and flailing. I inwardly groaned thinking we had a long road to haul, but nope, I stood there and waited him out, kept the leash loose and let him come up to me. That was it – he got it. He lunged at a squirrel once, I said “no”, made him sit and watch the squirrel scamper away and that was the end of it. Now whenever he focuses on a small animal (we have rabbits and sassy chipmunks too), all I have to do is “eh” and he’s fine. We walk in front of a yard with at least 8 loose little dogs who show up en masse to bark at us (at 5am – I’m sure those people love me), and Bates looks at them, looks at me, and I say “come on” and that’s it. This is the role model Breez has had whenever she walks on a leash. The first time the furry piranhas came out she freaked of course, but between watching me and Bates, she learned quickly that we just keep walking. When rabbits thumb their noses at us on our dirt road, she really, really, really wanted to give chase, and kept looking at Bates like “helloooo!!! This is the part where we terrorize them!!!” But since he didn’t go, it was easier for me to convince her not to either.
Bates’ attitude in general is perfect for us. He’s a high energy goofball – always ready to play, always up for anything. I’ve yet to meet a dog who can outmaneuver him in his zoomies. He reminds me of a cutting horse with his stops and spins and fake-outs. But yet he is usually the calming force in the midst of chaos. When my son sliced his toe and was crying and hiccupping because of the blood, Bates came over, stuck his tongue in the screaming child’s mouth (very effective way to get him to stop) then put his chin in his lap. When my daughter is pouting about whatever it is girls sulk about, he sneaks up on her and thumps her with a paw – how can you not giggle?! When Breez is getting scolded for her (many) puppy transgressions, Bates is always there, sitting politely, looking at you saying “I didn’t eat the coffee table”, “I didn’t dump out the full water bowl.” Yep, suck up.
A few weeks ago, my friend came over with her new lab puppy – four months old, full of fun, typical lab “yeehaw” personality. While Breez and Biko scooted away from him with their “eeew puppy” attitude, Bates flattened him with a paw, sniffed him up and down, licked a few spots, then proceeded to give the puppy a lesson in real doggie fun. Bates pretended to be knocked down by the puppy, he toned down his zoomies so he was just out of reach, let the puppy crawl all over him, showed him how to shovel water with his nose at the stream, took him to all the best digging spots, laid down with him when he was tired and licked him when he fell down and kai-yaied. The next week we went to Mooch’s (the puppy) house. Poor guy lives with 5 crotchety (and slightly addled) jack russells. We put out a kiddie pool for the dogs, threw the human kids in the real pool, and the fun was on. Bates tried to teach Mooch some more zoomie moves and waited patiently for him to untangle his legs when it didn’t work.
So here’s the plan, and I hope to keep you posted. I’m going to take Bates to the nearest CGC class, pass that, then get him TDI certified. With those two titles under our belt, I’m going to appeal to our school district to allow me to use Bates for a reading therapy program, and also use him to visit schools and raise awareness for proper care of pet animals. (i.e.: don’t chain ‘em up out back for one.) Don’t quite know yet how I’m going to fit that in around soccer season and karate, let alone that job thing I have to do to pay the bills, but Bates is too special to keep to myself. But shhhh, don’t tell him that, he might quit sucking up. Well, maybe not.