Dogs and Squirrels

Dover has several passions in his life. Perhaps the first has to do with tennis balls, although I think food might compete. But if no one wants to play ball with him, he avidly participates in the ancient canine sport of squirrel watching. He lies at the open slider doors at maximum alert, and if a squirrel trespasses his territory, he is off like a shot after the catch of his dreams. The squirrels, of course, are on to him, and they partake of the ancient squirrel sport of dog baiting. The score, at the moment, is squirrels 5,284, Dover 0.

Every time Dover tears out in hot pursuit and the squirrel lopes away in leisurely retreat, I empathize with Dover about lost opportunities and dreams.

A friend sent me a poem she wrote about her dog, now several years deceased, who also partook of this sport. One couplet in particular caught my eye:

To tree each squirrel is never a mistake

when desire is the truest path to take  .  .  .   

                           From "Apprentice," Gail Thomas, © 2008.

Reading this, I pulled up short. Dover thoroughly enjoys the chase - would he enjoy the capture and hunter's triumph as much? If he actually made the snatch, would he stand transfixed, wriggling body dangling from his soft, unharming mouth, eyes begging for information about what comes next? Perhaps I had been interpreting this game all wrong, and it is the sharp eye, the burst of speed, and the satisfaction of seeing his quarry speed away that Dover chalks up as a win. Maybe the score is 5,284 to 0 in Dover's favor, successful pursuits and triumphant returns marking the game as victorious.

I have to admit that I don't really know what goes on in Dover's mind, and the "nature red in tooth and claw" school of thought would go with the bloodiest outcome as being the best and truest description of this hobby. But there is an evolutionary role for play as well, and so I am pleased to think that Dover is into squirrels for the sport. I definitely like that there is more than one way to consider these games, and not just the one that chalks Dover up as a steady loser instead of a skilled and speedy gamesdog. So, just possibly, I really do not know what my fellow travelers value and hold most dear deep down at the core of their hearts and souls. That includes, but is not limited to, my dog Dover.

Dover's other passion.

Dog psych 101 - not that different from people!

The New York Times has reported that tennis players are a mite superstitious about the tennis balls they use and go through a ritual of choosing just the right ball (fluff matters) from several before serving. A friend asked whether Dover is as choosy as tennis players. Dover and his friends are indeed very devoted to tennis balls, but each has his or her own particular style in making these important decisions.

When Cisco (center, above) starts a game, she goes around the yard and sniffs each ball until she finds the one she likes. Then she uses only that ball for the duration - she won't accept or chase others. Dover considers it great sport to steal Cisco's ball - he will go out of his way to beat her to the fetch. Once in possession, he will parade and prance around the yard, taunting her, giving her meaningful looks, lying down with his chin on it or protectively placing it between his feet. Cisco fixes an unwavering stare on Dover, the ball, and Dover again, making very meaningful eye contact.

At some point, Dover will raise his head to take in the scenery, Cisco will move, whereupon Dover darts his head back over the ball. Eventually we can trick him and toss another ball, which he will chase happily, whereupon Cisco snatches her preferred ball - until the next time Dover beats her to it.

Dottie (above, right) will take any ball that comes her way; she hoards them - she is indiscriminent.

Dover is fickle. He will initially sniff balls out and chose one, but he easily falls to the allure of another.

He continues, however, to keep an eye out for Cisco's choice. Sometimes Cisco brushes her chosen ball by Dover's face as if to say: Hah Hah I have it and you don't. Dover, who is very fast, just lays low and waits his chance.

The two of them know exactly what they are doing.

Dover is temporarily on the disabled list, having had neck surgery to clean out a deep abscess of unknown origin. At first diagnosis the large lump was thought to be a possible lymphoma, but luckily, when the biopsy was done, what the vets found was gory abscess stuff. So DeeDog has to observe and only gets to look pitifully at the tennis balls, which for some reason are not on the fly.