Learning to skijor with an adrenalin-fueled dog

When we brought home a stunning dog with shiny black fur and tan highlights, we had no idea what were getting into.  His name was Cricket and he came from a house that contained 28 other dogs, all somehow concealed from the landlord.  Conditions in that house, according to dog shelter workers who were called in to relocate all the dogs, were the worst they had ever seen.  Dried feces covered the floor several inches thick.  Every feeding was an exercise in survival skills when an entire bag of dog food was ripped open and fought over.  Cricket was named by the person who horded all these dogs, perhaps because of his glossy black fur but more likely because his tail had a noticeable crick.  If you have 29 to name, using distinctive physical attributes seems practical.  The fights over food must have been awful and even years later, Cricket was never a good eater.  When that house was emptied of dogs, only 8 were considered for possible future adoption and the remaining 21 were euthanized.

Cricket was 4-1/2 months old when we brought him home.  When he was in the house with 28 other dogs, evidently there were few or no other human visitors and the windows were covered.  The dog shelter where we adopted Cricket initially withheld these facts, perhaps hoping it didn't matter.  Unfortunately, this failure to socialise Cricket with lots of people would have dramatically catastrophic results.  I don't think it's possible to overstate the significance of letting dogs socialise with a wide variety of people while the dog is an impressionable puppy.  Experts in dog behaviour refer to this short period of time as "plastic" where a puppy must experience all the stimulus he will encounter as an adult dog.  Future army dogs hear gun-fire, met gangs of solders and ride in trucks as impressionable pups.  Future leader dogs learn about traffic and crowded sidewalks while still puppies.  Future family pets must encounter extended family members, people who deliver the mail, men who come to fix the furnace, neighbours who visit while still puppies.  Cricket and the other dogs were not exposed to any of these stimuli.  In fact, the drapes must have been drawn tight because even wind making tree leaves move was foreign and scary to him.

Neurologists say that both in humans and in dogs, when sufficiently frightened, we experience a brief moment  where we "freeze up."  A brief instant of paralises while our brains decide on either "flight or fight" is accompanied by a release of adrenalin to help us either run away or confront and neutalize.  Cricket lived in a world where nearly everything outside the house sent him into this involuntary, adrenalin-fueled, fear-driven reaction.  He was afraid of birds, horses, deer, cars, people, people on bikes, people running and on and on.  Conversely, being around other dogs would relax him.  In fact, Cricket was so calmed by other dogs that he would often ignore people who showed up with dogs.  Woe to those people who don't have a dog!

Inside our house, Cricket was easy going and relaxed (as long as no one came to the door, walked by the window or slammed a car door.)  Outside he was in constant fear and juiced up with adrenalin.  After he scared off our neighbor, it was clear that Cricket could be outside only if on a leash, which made exercising him difficult.  Early on, I made him a sled-dog harness and hooked him up to my mountain bike.  When it became too snowy for biking, I would ski behind him.  When he was full grown, he weighed just under 100 pounds.  He was exercised everyday, regardless of rain, sleet or snow.  He learned to turn right and left on command during our first couple of weeks.  After learning "gee" and "haw" he became adept at other commands, like "gee around" (u turn to the right) or "haw over" (hug the left side of the road.)

Maybe it was because he never got much of a chance to run free that he would run like the wind while pulling me on a bike or skis.  He grew to be a large dog and his daily exercise program combined with top quality food turned Cricket into an elite athlete.  Skiing behind him was a magical feeling.  The only other experience I've had that felt similar was the first time I got my windsurfer to plane, ripping through the water with what feels like uncontrollable power.  Except that amazingly enough, Cricket's power could be asked to follow the left fork in the trail.

Copyright 2013 Paul Larsen