Tag: dog lover

WOLF NOTES: An Uncommon Interview – Lauren Monroe

Welcome to WOLF NOTES, where interview questions stray from the rest of the pack. It’s nice to know the usual stuff like where an author gets their inspiration and why they write, but sometimes we need a little fun in our lives.

Lauren Monroe is a Maryland novelist and Pittsburgh-native who grew up appreciating beautiful scenery and nautical life. She learned to drive a boat long before a car! From Western Maryland and later to the DC suburbs, she has experienced life in small towns and large. Currently she resides, along with her husband and family, on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. Letting Go: Book One of The Maryland Shores and Second Chances: Book Two, women’s fiction in The Maryland Shores series, are her first novels. She’s at work on a third book in the series.

Wolf: Glad you could get away from the shore and visit. What is the nicest thing you’ve ever done to your characters?

Lauren: My characters, at least in my first two novels, had to have functional families with close relationships and pretty good interpersonal interactions, give or take typical sibling banter and a dose of parental embarrassment. That strength made them connect with one another, and I do believe, made them endearing.

Wolf: It’s nice to read about families that work once in a while. What is the meanest thing you’ve ever done to your characters?

Lauren: Ah, now that might trigger a spoiler alert. Many readers report, and I do believe, that Second Chances: Book Two of The Maryland Shores was more the page-turner than the sweet story that started off my series. Happily ever after would not keep readers engaged. So my characters needed a few life rings tossed their way. While my fans told me of their surprise at a few plot twists, I stand behind all of them because they simply had to happen.

Wolf: I understand. Do you consider yourself a cat person, or a dog person?

Lauren: I’m definitely a dog person. I owned a cat many years ago, but in adulthood developed watery, itch eyes to felines. I grew up with a beloved, shelter-rescued dog, and so far in my adult life, our family adopted two dogs who needed forever homes. It’s no wonder then that my characters in Second Chances became dog lovers as well.

Wolf: I was adopted by a sweet lovable dog as well. If you could have a super power, what would it be?

Lauren: Hands down, it would be to eliminate anger and promote civility, better conflict resolution, kindness, and understanding.

Wolf: Great idea. Which of your characters is your favorite?

Lauren: Tough question! If I had to pick one, I’d say Steve, the sexy guy I created in Letting Go: Book One of The Maryland Shores. However, I love and identify with Maren who has nautical interests and a home-based career, Liz being a therapist (which I am when not my pen name writing novels!), Paul as a proud Pittsburgher, and Pam pushing back against gender stereotypes and forging her own path.

Wolf: Not playing favorites. You’re a good parent. What is your favorite body of water and why?

Lauren: I grew up on a lake in Maryland and landed later in life living near the Chesapeake Bay. Never the same view, crossing over it several times a week still brings a certain calm and beauty that puts one’s mind at ease. Both sides of the Chesapeake became the setting for my novel series.

Wolf: Nice. What story are you working on now?

Lauren: Book Three of The Maryland Shores which is yet unnamed.

Wolf: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

Lauren: The urge to create never quite goes away. When not at the keyboard, I’m cooking, baking, reading, developing info-graphics for book promotion, swimming, watching movies, spending time with friends/family, and travelling when I can get away…that’s my life.

Wolf: Sounds like you have a busy life. Why do you think reading is more vital than ever in our frantic, often discordant world?

Lauren: Being surrounded by books brings comfort, and we know from recent studies conducted in the UK that reading as little as six to ten minutes when losing oneself in a character’s world lowers heart rate and lessens muscle tension. With such immediate, relaxing results, I’d ask why in the world wouldn’t people want to part the covers of a good story and just lose themselves for a little while?

Wolf: The only thing better is reading while petting a dog. Thanks for visiting. You can connect with Lauren through these links:

Social Media Links:
www.laurenmonroenovels.com
www.facebook.com/laurenmonroenovels
https://www.pinterest.com/novelistlaurenm/
www.goodreads.com/laurenmonroe

Star Touched

Wolf Dawn

Don’t miss out. Sign up for my newsletter.

June 5, 2019
MUDDY PAWS

Brown eyes look up at me, filled with such longing. They seem to ask “Are you the one?” Do you want me?” Black fur, smooth and shiny. My fingers sink into its softness. A small spattering of white decorates her chest and paws. Two ears perk, their tips folded softly like a tulip. Her fluffy tail swishes ever so slightly. Tentative, hoping without much hope.

I open the window and hang my hand down and am greeted with several licks. Silently she puts her paws on the sill and reaches out to kiss me. I glance at the sign. They think she’s a year old and their best guess for breed is a Border collie mix. Those eyes look into my heart and I freeze. Why am I here? Am I really ready for this? It’s only been nine months since Arthur passed.

I force myself away to look at the other dogs. My husband and daughter have already moved down the hall. A quick walk around only brings me back here, to her. Something about her calls to me so I flag a volunteer.

In the visiting room she jumps around like a puppy, sniffing, playing, and exploring everything and everywhere at once. There is so much to see. I bend down and spread my arms wide. She climbs in and snuggles, buries me with kisses. Then she darts to my husband and daughter. So energetic, so full of love. Who would give up such a sweetheart and why? They are questions impossible to answer, only surmise.

She bounds around the room like she’s never run before. For several seconds a ball holds her attention, then a movement distracts. Off again. Endless energy sends her every which way, but always she comes back to snuggle, to give one more kiss. She’s small, only thirty five pounds, but full of fluffy love.

I fill out the application with shaky hands asking myself if I’m really ready. It’s been a long time since I trained a dog and I wonder whether I can do right by her. When I leave she looks so sad. As if to say, “I knew it couldn’t last. No one wants me.”

Dog proofing the house takes all week. It’s been nearly fifteen years since we needed to do so. Everything at dog level goes away. Gates go up. Several trips to the pet store and everything is ready, toys, food, bowls, crate. Doubts still gnaw at me, but I am happy, excited. Soon my new baby will be here. Her name is Laila.

The skies opened up the day we bring her home. We leave the shelter with her tugging and jumping all over the place. My eldest daughter struggles to keep her under control in the car. Laila dives to the floor and manages to find a stray napkin. The box of tissues is fair game as well. Once home we go straight to the backyard, sliding on the rain-drenched lawn. The downpour has turned all the grass free places into mud pits. Laila is ecstatic. Once released, she circles the yard at high speed, leaving behind a trail of torn turf and mud. Her body stretches out with each stride, long, like a greyhound and just as fast. Thank God for sturdy fences. I wait until she begins to slow before I call her and she tries to jump into my arms. Wet kisses coat my hands as we enter the house for the first time.

Laila is everywhere, or would like to be. I keep the leash on to prevent her from jumping up on the counters, tables, and couch. Each new toy holds her attention for only moments. I can’t leave the room. By evening I sit on the floor, exhausted wondering if I’ve made a huge mistake. Is she too much for me? Too energetic? Then she crawls into my lap, so starved for attention. I sink into those brown eyes and wipe the muddy paw prints off my pants. This is right.

Curled into a tiny ball of fur, she sleeps. So quiet and peaceful. But as soon as we try to leave the room she cries and barks, pawing at the crate door. Pain and longing ring in those calls. It’s a new house full of strangers. Like any child she doesn’t want to be along. My youngest daughter sleeps on the floor beside her.

A new day dawns, rain continues to stream from the sky in sheets. And Laila greets me like a long lost friend. Once again she darts around the back yard intent on reaching the speed of sound. Already she’s learned to stay off the counters. My mind spins with all the other new things to teach her.

This is not a young puppy, yet neither is she a grown dog. Whatever her past, it could not have held much stimulation. Her little head darts back and forth, taking in all the new sights and sounds that greet us on our walk. A leaf blows by and makes her jump. So does the sound of water rushing down the street. A car drives by and she stares, fascinated at the sight. Even walking on a leash seems alien to her. But Laila is a fast learner and soon learns not to pull and tug.

Two weeks later Laila has learned so much. Counters and tables are off limits as are the bathrooms and bed. She goes into her crate voluntarily, sits while her harness is put on and taken off, and stands while her feet are wiped after a walk. In these few short weeks she has worked her way deep into our hearts. She curls up on her bed at night next to me, safe, happy. There are no more doubts, just plans for education, toys to challenge her mind and keep her interested. Slowly she’s learning that mommy will come home. It is a hard fought lesson. Somewhere in her past that fact was proven false. Her head rests on my feet as I write; you’ve found your family at last Laila. Welcome home.

February 7, 2014
For the Love of Canines: Arthur Part 2

Having an exuberant and inquisitive dog created some exciting adventures, several that I would have preferred to skip. I lost count of how many puzzle pieces disappeared, but they were minor inconveniences. Arthur liked paper like Praeses liked tennis balls – as snacks.

The biggest escapade happened while I was shopping. It was before I had a cell phone and being paged to the service desk in Target because of a medical emergency started a million horror stories racing through my mind. Were the kids okay? My husband? Had something happened to my parents or in-laws?

Arthur had swiped a tissue filled with my mother-in-law’s medications off the dresser. After several panicked calls to the vet and poison control, the dog that would vomit at the drop of a hat refused to throw up no matter what I tried. We ended up at the emergency animal hospital where he spent the night. He returned to us the next day groggy but otherwise fine. . . .Until my in-law’s next visit. Arthur took one look at them and refused to take the medicine I was giving him for itchy skin.

About that itchy skin, after a bad reaction to some arthritis medicine (and another trip to the animal hospital,) I pulled him off every medicine and supplement he had been given. The plastic water bottle and food dish got replaced by stainless steel. Within weeks his dry itchy skin went away, as did some of the stiffness in his joints. All that time it had been the plastic affecting his health. I’m amazed those kinds of dishes are still being sold. Stay away from them!

Arthur was definitely a mama’s boy, and followed me around like a shadow. If a nurse or vet needed to take him somewhere, he would tuck his tail and give me a worried look, but he always went. That was until he had a softball sized tumor removed from his leg. On our follow up appointment, he planted all four feet and refused to go without me.

Snowy white crept up Arthur’s muzzle and gray splotched his black fur. Those walks around the lake became too difficult for him. In March of 2011 Arthur had a mini stroke. He made an almost complete recovery, but it was just the beginning of many health problems. His eyesight began to fail and he showed signs of early dementia, but he still looked happy and didn’t seem to be in pain.

Even with the best of care problems can occur. Arthur developed a toe infection that ultimately led to an amputation. The wound took an unusually long time to heal, and it wasn’t until the lab identified two antibiotic resistant bacteria that it finally did. He put up with it all, even the cone of shame. For an old arthritic dog, Arthur sure was flexible. He pulled the cone off one night tearing out several stitches. Another trip to the emergency clinic ensued. Eventually, he healed completely and our happy dog returned. Arthur walked around the whole block a few times and even started to run again.

Sadly, he suffered another stroke January 10, 2012. Walking down the stairs became an impossible task. As his eyesight continued to deteriorate he became even more snuggly. It felt like he was trying to get as in much love as he could in our time left together. I knew in my heart that we were on borrowed time. We said our last farewell to our wonderful friend on April 28, 2013. He is sorely missed.

Arthur
February 28, 1998 – April 28, 2013

May 12, 2013
For the Love of Canines: Arthur Part 1

With a new baby and a 16 month old toddler, it was a year and a half before we got another dog. We had the pitter patter of little feet, but not the pitter patter of toenails across the floor, the soft brush of fur, and a wet nose.

While we would have loved to adopt, with two small children we wanted to be sure of temperament. After careful consideration we decided against another Malamute. While we loved Praeses, we wanted a breed that would get along with other dogs. Our choice – Portuguese Water Dog. We researched, visited breeders, clubs, and homes and finally found someone in Ohio that would have a litter ready for new homes about the time school let out. (I was teaching at the time.)

The breeder required a three page application and two letters of recommendations. It was clear from the start that they did this for the love of the breed, not to make money. Our particular pup ended up with an improper coat but that didn’t bother us at all. Go figure. He shed and looked a little different than the other PWDs, but his attitude was all PWD.

I drove out to get him the first week in June. When the door opened, there he was, Haleakala Aka Loekai, Hawaiian for Arthur King of the Sea, sitting politely at the door. Our eyes met, and I knew, he was the one I had been looking for. It felt as if Praeses was staring at me through new eyes. The first thing Arthur did was jump up and grab my braid, just like Debra did when she nursed. It was a bit of foreshadowing that I didn’t realize at the time.

When I mentioned the connection to Praeses’ spirit so to speak, I didn’t mean they were the same. They were as different as night and day. Praeses was snowy with typical malamute patterns. Arthur was jet black with a small white goatee. One was mellow and slow, the other bouncy and fast. Switching from a dominant female that lifted her leg, to a submissive male who squatted had its challenges. The first time I gave the heal command in obedience class; Arthur bounced like a rubber ball. I needed to learn to dial it down a little with him.

The first time I tossed Arthur’s toy, he trotted right back and plopped it in my lap. I was stunned. It was the first time a dog had voluntarily returned anything. Playing catch became a favorite game and Arthur, in his enthusiasm, would run into furniture, walls, and people. Anything in his way was bowled over in his desire to get the toy. He didn’t seem to notice. He very quickly transferred the idea of retrieving to the Frisbee and a little over a week before he began to catch it. His usual habit at that time was to drop the retrieved item on the ground at my feet. A few days after I had had some minor surgery, I looked at him with sad eyes and told him that I couldn’t bend down to pick it up. Arthur understood. He picked up the Frisbee and handed it to me. It was the last time I needed to pick up a toy for him.

Later on Arthur and I gave agility a try and loved it, but classes were too difficult to get to on a regular basis. I set up my own jumps and tunnels in the yard so we would play. Trips to the local lake and playground with the girls became even more exciting. If no one else was around, I would let him climb the ramp to the tower and go down the slide. His tail wagged and his tongue lolled as he played and barked. It took me a while, but I finally realized that if he had a ball in his mouth he couldn’t bark while he ran around.

May 9, 2013
For the Love of Canines: Praeses Part 2

After growing up with an untrained dog, I was determined to teach my puppy. The hopes were for a cross between Lassie and Rin Tin Tin. A friendly stranger introduced me to the Dog Owners Training Club of Maryland, and so began our education. Note the name says dog owners training, and not dog training. I had as much to learn about teaching a dog as Praeses had to learn about good behavior.

I took everything in stride, even when she talked back during class. And she really did talk back, even as she followed every command I gave her. Our education went so wonderfully, that I decided to enter her in an obedience trial. It wasn’t until we had earned the second leg of our Companion Dog degree that someone mentioned that Alaskan Malamutes were supposed to be difficult to train. She came in first place and was even the highest scoring novice at the show. The very next week at what should have been our last novice trial, she sat across the ring during the sit stay and turned it into a sit say. I wanted nothing better than to crawl under the mats and hide I was so embarrassed. Needless to say, we were disqualified.

Praeses did earn her degree a few weeks later. In fact, she was the highest scoring novice Alaskan Malamute in the country for 1990. Her picture is published in the Alaskan Malamute Annual for 1991 on page 8. She’s listed as Heljwins Praeses Kaplan CD with a score of 197 out of 200. We hit our obedience wall with retrieving. Wooden dumbbells just weren’t her thing. Neither was bringing things back to me. While we didn’t compete at the higher levels, we did continue going to class for fun.

People always asked me if Praeses knew any tricks. Well, I only taught her two stupid pet tricks. She could balance a cookie on the end of her nose and catch it on command. A friend of mine needed a wolf for a movie he was making, so I also taught her to play dead. Praeses was a bit of a ham and did a stumble-stumble fall while doing it, complete with convincing death vocalizations. She was billed as Praeses the Wonder Dog. Ah, the joys of life at an art school. Did I mention she wore costumes? I still have her Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtledog costume in the basement. She was Michelangelo, complete with numb chucks and pizza.

Down the street from my apartment was an empty lot which was used as an unofficial off Lead Park. Every morning and evening the local pack would meet up and play. Even as a puppy Praeses knew she would be big and tried to throw her shoulder at the larger dogs. It was rather amusing to watch. Remember that smart little pup who sought out the shade? Well, every time the dog tag/chase game ran its wide circle around the park, Praeses cut across the center to catch the leader. Worked every time. Overall, Praeses was very smart, except when it came to tennis balls. She absolutely loved them…as snacks. In a matter of twenty minutes, while visiting a friend’s house, Praeses consumed three and a half balls. Luckily she was fine, but didn’t feel well for a few days. She also learned to wake me by bouncing her head on my bed. As a rule, Praeses wasn’t allowed on the furniture, but one day when I was sick, she looked at me with those big brown eyes. I could see the question in her eyes asking “can I?” All I did was nod my head slightly and say ok. She was on the bed in a flash and quickly curled up at my feet.

Praeses was more than a dog. She was a companion and friend, the anchor that kept me grounded in reality, never allowing my mind to drift careless when I needed to be focused. We moved out of the city when I got married and started a pack of our own. Praeses passed away in her sleep one month before my second daughter was born.

March 8, 2013
For the Love of Canines: Praeses Part 1

Several years after Tiger passed on I found myself living in downtown Baltimore. Grad school at MICA was fine, but city life just isn’t my thing. I missed the outdoors and going for walks in the park without fear. Walks at night were out of the question unless I had an escort. More importantly, I missed the kind of companionship only a dog can give. No strings, no demands, just unconditional love. Unfortunately, without a MD drivers license, adopting from the local animal shelter was out.

I’ve always felt it important to do research before adopting any pet. After all, a bad personality mix is worse than no pet at all. The needs of the pet have to be met. A stray cocker spaniel followed me home one day. It was cute, but grabbed my ankles when I tried to play, which I found annoying. Besides, she was way too small for me. I wanted a dog I could pet without having to bend over, one I wouldn’t be afraid of stepping on by accident. It wasn’t hard to find her a good home, but that left me still dogless.

While perusing a book in the library, I discovered the perfect breed of dog for me. The first line on the description read “don’t let the wolf like characteristics for this breed deter you.” I was hooked. The Alaskan malamute is a working dog and like most of the northern breeds, highly independent.

I found a local breeder through an ad, and after several interviews, was allowed to pick a dog from her litter. Half a dozen puppies ran and greeted me enthusiastically on that 95 degree humid day. One small fur ball said hello, then separate from the frenzied pack and crawled under the shade of a lawn chair. She was different, with shorter fur, and in my eyes smarter for getting out of the sun. I knew then, that she was the dog for me. As luck would have it, she was also ‘improperly coated’, which meant she wasn’t a show dog. That was fine. I wanted a companion, not a beauty pageant queen. So, for 200 dollars and a barter deal for a few sculptures, my new best friend came home with me.

Praeses is Latin for guardian or protector or in her case, protectoress. She more than lived up to her name, protecting me from every squirrel and dog in the neighborhood. Her very appearance, even as a puppy inspired some people in the city to cross the road, rather than walk past her on the sidewalk. If they only knew. Praeses, like wolves in the wild, lived by the hierarchy of the pack. I was her alpha, but most people were betas in her eyes, putting her one level below. I kept that secret safe.

Funds were tight as a student, and I gulped at our first vet visit when the receptionist handed us our bill and politely said, “That will be 150 dollars this time” It was the ‘this time’ that got me. Owning a dog is expense but worth it.

Our first night, I was so afraid she would have an accident in the house, that I didn’t sleep a wink. Every time she stirred, I would scoop her up and take her to the curb. We finally got our rhythms in sync after a week or so, and my roommate told me how to make a station chain in the kitchen to keep her out of mischief until she was house trained. Even if I could have afforded a crate, my research had mentioned that malamutes preferred tie outs to the confinement of a crate.

March 2, 2013