How does it work, life with so many dogs?  At the moment, there’s 12.  At the top of the chart is Otter, who will be 15 in March 2009.  Her great-granddaughter Spider will be a year old in April 2009.  

How do I try to stay in balance so that none of the dogs appear to be lacking
something important to them? First, life with many dogs requires that I let go of the notion that I could possibly have the same kind of relationship with all the dogs that I could have with 1 or 2 dogs. Kind of like being married, and then being married with a kid, and then having 4 more kids (or in this case, 8 more after that.)  It is more complex in some ways, less intense on some levels, more intense on others, and yet the shared interactions also lift the burden from my shoulders to be ALL.

What constitutes a full life for a dog?  

As someone who has a lot of dogs, I get asked frequently this question:  “How
do you give enough attention to each dog?”  It’s a bit hard to explain to folks who haven’t lived with dogs ranging from near 15 years old to not even a year old and everything in-between.  And all related.  At the moment, there’s four generations living here, a lovely rich tapestry of genetics.

Easy to get lost in the technicalities of how I handle the grand old dame Otter as well as her great-granddaughter Spider.  Suffice it to say they have different needs.

The deeper, far more important question is how to know what is "enough."

A trainer wrote:  “You generally don't  try to teach math on the playground, it tends to take all the fun out of  kickball.”

This struck me as odd.  Did the trainer mean that they equated "training" with not fun?  Or as the equivalent of math?  (Math teachers of the world would like to know: And  exactly why is math synonymous with not fun?)  

To me, training is simply a conversation between me and a dog.  Like any conversation, it can be casual, fun, serious, difficult, silly, meaningful or meaningless, boring, dry, exciting, stimulating, etc.  It all depends on what's being discussed, how it's discussed, where it's discussed, who's talking and who's listening.  

“That may not be so cute when he’s a big boy!”  Wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve said that phrase.  And whether it was a bundle of fluff Bichon pup or an all-legs-all-the-time baby Great Dane, the caution was always worth heeding.  Because baby animals grow up to be adult animals.

Between my own dogs and helping others with theirs, a lot of puppies have grown up around or with me.  Storm, the newest baby in the house, is putting a new twist on raising a youngster and being careful about what he learns now when he’s little.

When he was born, Storm was about 60 pounds.  You read that right – about 60 pounds.  At birth.  Storm is a Scottish Highland calf, a sturdy baby bull with fantastic eyelashes and red shaggy fur.  At the moment, he’s laying a few feet away.  He is the official House Calf.