Feeding Time

In his recent post, "Storm Treats," John Katz discussed feeding time at his farm.  (http://www.bedlamfarm.com/page/5/)  He said, that he has "found in my life with animals that if they are fed and watered and sheltered faithfully, they come to trust it, and rarely get overly aroused or dangerously eager." His photograph of his wife Maria feeding treats to a calm assembly of sheep and donkeys,  further proves his point.  

I'm hoping that, eventually, Hattie Mae and I will come to a similar understanding. After three months, I hope she trusts that I will feed her regularly and shelter her faithfully.  And, despite my earlier efforts to teach her otherwise, I have come to learn that the couches and beds (both human and canine) are all at her disposal.  As is the fireplace, that I shamefully admit, I turn on for her all too often.  

She's there right now... as I type...

I know you can't see the flames,
but, trust me, they're flaming.  

along with the cat and the remnants of yesterday's snow day.  

But when it comes to feeding time, she is still overly aroused and dangerously eager.  All I have to do is pick up her food bowl and her pupils grow to the size of dinner plates.  "That dog is completely over stimulated by food," one dog trainer told me.  Tell me about it! Thus, in order to feed her, I put her in a "sit" and "stay" so that I can walk down to the basement to get her food.  (When I kept it in the pantry, she seemed overly protective of it.) By the time I return to the kitchen, she is no longer sitting or staying, her eyes seem even bigger, and then, The Happy Dance begins.  

The Happy Dance is a whirlwind of movement.  There is twirling, curling, and pivoting, followed by leaping, bending and skidding.  It is an uncontrolled dance of pure joy and delight.  (I wish I could get this excited about my food)  Yet, despite her chaotic movements, it's also all about focus.  For, during this dance, Hattie's eyes never lose sight of her bowl.  Ever!   She has even been known to whack her head on the wall, or the corner, in the midst of one of her pirouettes, because she was too busy watching the bowl and not where she was going.  (hence, the dangerously eager part) 

But she never seems to mind, or to hurt.  She just carries on.  Until she skids to a stop, drops to a sit, and starts to shake. And she continues to sit, and continues to shake, while I place her food on the floor,  and walk back down the hall where I give her the "okay" to eat.  

I realize that trust and faith don't happen over night. I also realize that three months is just a blink in the eye of Father Time.  So, for now, I will keep on feeding, watering, sheltering, loving, and enjoying my dog's dance until the day that we can walk down the hall together.