Ruby lives with my friend, Lara. We both have reactive dogs who exploded our lives around the same time. But do not feel one crumb of sympathy for us. We gazed at our dogs, besotted. Even though, and let’s be honest, they were not easy for normal people to love.
Lara says, “I had to stop calling you my trainer when I ran out of horses.”
We met through horses, the only way I meet anyone. I want to think we grew up in similar ways, but the fact her hippie parents are my age blows that theory. We have dozens of things in common like books and food and photos of animals with trophy-worthy ears. And just enough things we don’t agree on to be interesting. We’re perfect that way.
Lara says, “I love how we evolved. How I started coming over when I didn’t have a lesson.”
Well, it doesn’t usually work that way. I think Edgar Rice Burro probably invited her. He knows about things.
Lara says, “But I was there the morning before I met Ruby.”
I can’t forget that visit. Lara had lost both of her dogs, Lasya and Freya, within days of each other in July 2013. It was brutal, but a week later, she honored them by getting Ruby, then soon after, Boca, a Potcake dog. Lara drove down to my farm to hang in the tree swing and scratch donkey ears and make the time waiting for Ruby pass quicker. Lara found Ruby’s mugshot on Petfinder. She was less than a year old, with ears tall enough to make a shade from the sun. The pup had a ginger and white two-tone face, and was advertised as a “corgi chihuahua” but a dog might say anything to get out of a kennel in Arkansas. A DNA test says she’s a spicy soup of border collie/Aussie and several terriers. The terrier parts won. Call her a Border Jack.
Five short months later, Preacher Man arrived on a plane from Texas, like a sullen mail-order bride. He’d managed to yip-jappity-yip himself into serious trouble, complete with death threats. Okay, it was a euthanizing list, but he was loud. Friends sprung him and my name came up. He’s here because on the prairie they can’t hear you bark. Mostly.
Ruby didn’t immediately identify as reactive. It took a few weeks, but when she felt safe, Ruby began to unravel. Preach only held it together till we got home from the airport.
We both write blogs. Lara’s is called Rubicon Days, and it’s a dog lover’s paradise, worth a visit. You know mine is about horses, but I cross the line. My very best and favorite writing is about dogs. Three months after Preacher Man arrived, in April 2014, I wrote my first blog about Calming Signals (Calming Signals: Are You Listening?) and it went viral. A Norwegian Dog trainer, Turid Rugaas, coined the term to describe the emotions and communication in canine body language. Calming Signals end up being universal. I had been applying my understanding of Calming Signals to the horses I trained for a few years. But that was the first time I had the courage to write about how I used them. And just like that, my life changed.
Meanwhile, Lara and I took two different approaches with our dogs. Preacher was older than Ruby and I felt he needed some serious decompression time. He wandered in the backyard in pajamas. We did less. Ruby learned tricks as a way of dealing with anxiety and Lara writes about it in her informative Rubicon Days. I am forever in awe of her “peanut butter toes” cue. But when the Ginger Sisters, Ruby and Boca, came to visit, we didn’t move the furniture out of the room. The dogs did.
Years passed. We wrote, we read. Lara and I had 4-hour lunches to talk about our dogs. Sometimes we go to dog shows and talk about our dogs. We asked all the existential questions: What if we accept them as they are? Or what can we do to make life easier for them? Meanwhile, our dogs negotiated the world, gained some amazing skills, and remained reactive dogs. Happy reactive dogs who never got in trouble.
Lara says, “Ruby does TV calisthenics, ‘Barkercize.'”
Our dogs are older now, but also our friendship. In the end, Lara and I probably changed more than the dogs did. Over years we got quieter, listened better, found more ingenious ways to help the dogs be okay. Our understanding of Calming Signals grew deeper, and we became better communicators. It wasn’t about our considerable training skills or whether our dogs behaved. Way simpler. We just love them.
There is an ongoing conversation with horse women at The Barn School about what to do about railbirds who give unwanted advice. Peers critical that they have gone off the deep end because they breathe with their horse. Or those who behave in disrespectful ways with our animals because they are showing off or think it’s funny. It’s the schoolyard bully with a smile on their face. Does peer pressure need to be negative? Can we flip it?
Too often, the most painful comments come from friends. Perhaps it was an unintended slight. If so, tell them. It’s as simple as saying, “Ouch.” And hope they apologize. Maybe you have been taking them for granted, and you need to be the friend you want to have. Let it be a wake-up call. Or it might be time to upgrade. Thinking of all my friends’ dogs since high school. Maybe they are the key. It might be time to let your dog pick some new friends. If you don’t have a donkey.
Never doubt how much we need horse friends and dog friends. We need our own kind as much as they do. Otherwise, the world would drive us crazy with its chatter. We need the solace of like minds where we can share our passion, our full hearts. Still, people don’t become friends by saying so. We must recognise the other person (or their dog or horse) in ourselves. If we are very lucky, we remain friends over generations of dogs and horses, cats and birds until the sun sets and we rest with their memory.
With gratitude for good friends like Lara, and all our animals. I know it’s awkward for my friends to be written about and only hear my side of our story. It’s like I don’t have the decency to talk behind their backs. So, I asked Lara if there was something she wanted me to say about Ruby in this essay.
Lara says, “Oh, just that she changed my whole life & being, but you already knew that.”
…
An audio version of this essay is available to subscribers on Substack.
Find Anna Blake and The Gray Mare Podcast on Substack or BlueSky social media. For specific training advice, search 1500 essays in our archives here.
If you or your horse appreciate my writing, please subscribe to this blog. Join us at The Barn School, our social and educational site, with member sharing and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.
Visit annablake.com for archived blogs, signed books, subscribe to this blog, or ask Anna a question about the art and science of working with horses. Want more? Become a sustaining member, a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online group and support the best bunch of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.
Ride for a new brand, find our Relaxed & Forward and Undomesticated Women swag at Zazzle.
Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.
Available Now! My new travel memoir is Undomesticated Women, Anecdotal Evidence from the Road. Ride along on a clinic tour through 30 states, 2 oceans, and 14k miles with me and my dog, Mister. It is an unapologetic celebration of sunsets, horses, RV parks, roadkill, diverse landscapes, and undomesticated women. Available now at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and signed copies from me.
Peanut butter toes! My curiosity is aflame. As someone who also helps her reactive dog by teaching tricks and offering her jobs, I applaud. But as I’ve had several reactive dogs over my blessed lifetime, I also applaud decompression. No dog or horse or cat or person is the same. To meet their need is the greatest gift. For me.
Thanks, Justinn. Peanut butter toes also involve nail clippers!
I think every animal I’ve ever been lucky enough to live with has changed my “life and being” – as Lara said.
I believe thats the case with most of us – HERE. “Having” a dog, cat or horse or any animal – just owning – makes a mockery of the connection between human and animal – when we all know what it CAN be. And loving them is the biggest part – no matter what their faults (or ours) are!
Thanks, Anna and Lara
Thanks, Maggie. I want this blog and the Barn School to be a hang out for people like us.
Well, you know me. You know my decades-long propensity for having dogs who barely tolerate me, little own anything or anyone else. Although my current batch are pretty friendly, they’re still to standard and don’t entertain friendships with human or canine strangers. Let’s just say they don’t do play dates. And I’m perfectly fine with that because generally speaking, I don’t do play dates either. A neighbor once asked why I insist on having dogs who seem to be so much work. (Read as: adversarial.) She has a Golden Retriever. ‘Nuff said.
And see? I thought you were listing all the best cattle dog traits! Yes, my traveling dog can’t be bothered either. Gotta love that. Good to hear from you, Cheryl.
Love the essay. Blessed with a long assortment of reactive critters, I learn from every one. We are currently without a dog (the cats don’t think this is a problem) but the right one will come along.
… as they do. Thanks, Mary
Thank you Anna. I had to relearn so much after my upbringing. That must be why I was drawn to Arabian horses and Cocker Spaniel dogs. Highly sensitive and communicative beings. If a harsh word happens to fall from my lips – well – it is obvious how it was received. So I am so careful.
My neighbor claps loudly at her horses and dogs. Maybe it works for her, but it makes my stomach hurt.
Your essays have been an instrument of my healing journey too.
Thank you, Julie. I’ve had enough yelling and clapping as well. Good for you and even better for your animals.
Always excited to read about another dog named Ruby. Mine’s a rescue, and a Texas mutt through and through. Because her DNA shows 40% Great Pyrenees and 15% Aussie Cattle Dog, we ascribe many of her habits as herding us. Which delights us, actually! Fun to learn from you about my two favorite species, dogs and horses.
Thanks, Jann. I do love herding dogs.
I no longer have horses after fifty years with them, (I still enjoy your posts about training as so much of it applies to life), but I love when you write about dogs. I’m excited to dig into Lara’s blog, as I have two reactive dogs who have changed my life and being. Plus, I’m a dog blogger who writes ‘dogoir’ and am always excited to find a kindred spirit – so thanks for sharing your friend and her pups. And thanks for writing so beautifully about all the animals (including people).
Thanks, Cara. Here’s to us and those like us!
This one hit home in such a sweet way. Goose says hi.
Who’s a good boy!!!! Thanks, Goose. I mean Toni.
Don’t have dogs or horses and loved this. Humans could learn a lot from our furry animals. (It’s possible I’ll get a cat- independent thinker, the heck with you, I’ll do what I want). Hmmm sounds like me.
Loved this, Anna! Thank you 🙏🏽
As if dogs and horses aren’t independent thinkers?? Well, animals are animals. Thanks, Carolyn
I love everything about this article. Just want you to know that, as the world works, I lost Rocky – the best Arabian ever, aged 32 – and then Jim and I found Montepulciano (Monte for short), a large drink of mixed houndness – an irrepressible constant motion machine whose color allows him to disappear into the woods at night. Very very vocal, very very puppy-ish, our other two dogs are flabbergasted. Everything goes in his mouth, he’s just passed Dobby (the Jack Russell) in height and his paws are the paws if a working dawg for sure! Everything goes in time he comes in from exploring our little acre of woods, he brings in yet another coveted piece of dead wood, which all three dogs proceed to destroy. Life is eventful, noisy, and … puppy-centric! I’m just avoiding the fact that for the first time in about 50 years I am horseless.
Sorry about Rocky, even at his age. I need to write about the number of us who transition to dogs this time of life. Monte sounds like a dog’s dog. I love him already. Thanks, Sherry.
Does Preacher Man really still bark all the time, as you have described in one of your books? If so, doesn’t it drive you crazy? Like you, I love animals (especially horses and dogs) and I also love nature. I want to listen to birds sing, not a constantly barking dog. I’m curious about whether you just learned to tune him out or whether you found a way to cut down on the barking.
I don’t do things that bother him, I keep my voice low, etc. As he got older, he barked quieter and a little less. But yes, he continued to bark a lot. And I knew what I was getting into, so I accepted him as he was. Hate the sin, love the sinner. Thanks Thomas.