The week just gone has featured some landmarks and signs that the lovely Ms V is growing. Again, some good, some not so.
On the landmark front, we had another trip to the vets for her final vaccination shots; 7 more days and we can unleash her on the unsuspecting world with another wave of socialisation trips. From a search-dog point of view we definitely need to see some livestock in its natural state, and from a personal perspective, we need to go and play on the beach. The vet thought she was in lovely condition, but asked what it was she chewed. It would seem that her recent interest in stones has already taken its toll. We need to stop that before the second set of teeth come in.
Venn’s weight has been increasing fairly steadily and has pretty much doubled since we first weighed her around the 8 week mark. It has mostly been a fairly uniform expansion of size, but this week her legs decided to go it alone and she is currently working on being a bit gangly. Today we saw signs that she is sprouting her father’s top-knot and J has threatened to tie it up with a mountain-rescue-red bow if it continues to grow. I would normally be concerned that this would make me the laughing-stock of the search dog puppy class, but I fear we may already have that covered…..
Venn has always been a bit of an ankle/leg biter and ironically at its worst once she is let off the lead. I have spent the last 2 months in down-hill mountain bike trousers as they are the only things tough enough to protect my legs (and survive the experience themselves). Anyway, over the last couple of weeks I have noted a subtle change in the nature of this leg interest, and am now sure that it has taken a decided turn to the “fruity” in a way that is very unbecoming for a young lady (and not so great for the handler). Apparently this is not uncommon behaviour in bitches, particularly puppies. We have told her that we will love and support her, whatever path she chooses (but ideally, if she chose the path that the missing person just walked down, that would be best). However, when I picture my future dog-handler self, standing heroically on the bleak mountain side and staring into the middle distance in a catalogue-man pose, the image does not usually feature a small black spaniel humping my leg. Just sayin’.
We had our first recall fail this week. The call wasn’t ignored, but she bolted off in the opposite direction, which made me wonder if she had caught an echo or lost sense of where I was rather than ignored the summons. I’m back making sure she knows where I am before calling.
We also had our first “camping” trip on Wednesday. With too many sharp teeth and claws to risk canvas, we spent the night on the floor of Jacky’s shed to get her used to changes of venue. She seemed to sleep fine, and indeed slept later than usual, but with my head right next to her cage, I got to hear every sigh, shuffle and fart that she had to offer through the dark hours.
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