Halloween is for Everyone (Even Our Dogs)

Mac as a feline.

What is your dog wearing for Halloween this year?
     I admit it.  I dressed up my dog in a makeshift Halloween costume last year.  But I did not spend a penny to do so.  I had leftover material from almost 10 years ago sitting in a dusty box.  It was a glorious piece of wild feline spotted fleece.  I happily cut it up and made a cape for him so he could match his "sister" who wanted to be a cheetah last year.  I couldn't resist.  Look how adorable they were in the photo, with matching pumpkin baskets to boot!

Everyone needs a sidekick on Halloween!

     We are now termed "pet parents" rather than "pet owners."  I have embraced this new title.  My dog is the reason I hit the pavement for at least one mile per day, sometimes two miles, in the spirit of his and my own fitness.  His smile and enthusiastic tail is the reason I perk up when I arrive home, despite how fatigued I might be.  And he is the reason I write every day.  My walk with him is the catalyst for my 750 word minimum online journal entry.  On a good day, our walk produces a good blog idea or the completion of my current chapter in progress.
     My point is that my dog is an important member of my family which is why we decided to include him in our Halloween family fun last year.  It didn't seem fair to leave him home.  The incessant doorbell and knocking stressed him out.  He loved walking anyway.  Why not see what he thought of all the people dressed up in costumes visiting each home?  He did not typically take walks in the dark, let alone see that many people outside at that hour.
     Mac is notorious for wanting to chase anything that speeds by him.  He can't help his Sheltie heritage.  He wants to herd kids, bikes, cars anything else that isn't moving in some kind of order.  But on Halloween evening, no one was in a rush.  Masked characters strolled together in herds.  This comforted him.
     Mac learned that if he sat while everyone patiently awaited for someone to come to the door, the homeowner might notice him and run back into the house to find a more appropriate treat for him.  Ah, yes.  There was something in it for him too.  He was also in costume, so after a couple of oohs and aahs, he happily accepted a lovely dog-bone shaped biscuit or two.

Halloween costumes from the 1970s.

Mac loves people and other dogs, especially those he recognizes from our neighborhood.  Last Halloween, we saw other dogs walking around with their families, but most were not in costume.
     Perhaps this year will be different.
     Amidst our nation's financial woes, industry trackers and market researchers say there will be a bright spot in our economy this coming Halloween.  Among many other colorful characters, we can expect Captain America, Iron Man, the Avengers, Obamas, Mitts, and perhaps some more super hero canines.

Halloween savings tip from my good friend Michelle: It's not too late if you would like to place your children's costumes from last year online on eBay or Craig's list in order to fund this year's costumes.  Or, consider trading costumes with your children's friends who attend a different school.

A Dog's Smile

Ever since welcoming my Sheltie Mac into my family life, I've developed a new skill.  I now have the ability to truly see a genuine dog's smile.  They are not very different from a human smile.  Eye brows are relaxed; eyes are bright and alert; the corners of the open mouth are turned up and the teeth are showing.  The only differences are that their unusually long or wide tongue is hanging out; their tails are wagging with great energy; and sometimes, they are panting.

I took my dog's smile for granted.

Every time I came home after dropping off the kids at school or running a day of errands, Mac smiled.  He was excited because he would soon have a playmate or at least a set of feet to lay next to while I typed on my laptop.  There was his trademark youthful, joyful, handsome pup face.  Like people, Mac sometimes demonstrated a lower energy smile with a closed mouth; that content look he got with his eyes half-closed while relaxing at his favorite spot on the sunny deck.  If you are a dog owner, I'm sure you've also honed this recognition skill.  It's the true barometer of a happy home.

If the dog is happy, well then it means he's getting a whole lot of love, playtime and attention.  Watch your dog or see if your friends who have dogs agree.  When the dog gets no love, everyone's too busy, too stressed out or too self-absorbed to realize the importance of just being. 

Once the kids are off to school, my daily goal is to walk one mile with Mac.  It's a great opportunity for me to brainstorm and process story ideas in my mind.  Well, for the past week, I've been extremely productive but not with my writing.  I've been donating 95% of my time to a charitable event I am co-chairing.  So many details and people are involved in the planning and preparations for this event.  It has depleted not only my time at home with the family; poor Mac has been on the peripheral of my radar.  Our walks have been abbreviated and his playtime has become less and less predictable.

So lately Mac has passive-aggressively been sending me signals.  His favorite treats have been half-eaten and purposely left in my path in the foyer.  He's been responding with nonchalance when I call for him.  I've had to search each room; he hasn't broken into a gallop when I sing-song his name.  If the house phone or blackberry acts up during our round of tug-of-war, he hasn't insisted that I pay him any mind.  He has simply dropped his end of the rope and curled up in another part of the house to mope.

Today I announced excitedly to Mac that we were going to do our full mile walk.  He was ready.  Then, I suddenly remembered there were two critical e-mail messages I needed to send, right that minute, despite holding the leash in one hand, wearing the house key lanyard around my neck and my right pocket filled with treats and plastic bags.  There she goes again, he must have thought, possessed by that THING!  When we finally reached the street, he led me to believe that he was a willing participant of our walk.

And then he communicated silently yet very clearly.  He sat.  I gave him my usual gentle command.

"Come on, Mac.  Let's go walky walk."

Nothing.

"Let's look for cars!"

Still no movement.

"Come on, don't you want to go sniff some mailboxes?"  He turned his head away with his nose in the air.  I gently tugged his collar with the leash and he defiantly pulled back his head.  I didn't recognize this behavior.  He was usually so agreeable.

"What's wrong, Mac?  You LOVE to walk!"

Silence.  He was earning my full attention.  He quietly basked in his subtle protest.  I approached him slowly and crouched down next to him, looking deeply into his eyes.

"I get it," I whispered into his left ear as I stroked his forehead and back.  "I've been a bad owner.  You're right."

His nose turned away once more.

"I'm really sorry."

This time he looked straight ahead at our original destination, lifted his back end and led me on our way.