My Madigan So Wants To Chase Rabbits.

My Madigan sits looking longingly out the living room window. Within his sight a rabbit hops, stops and nibbles clover. Madigan remains put unsure of what is really out the window-- stays put until the rabbit hops across the yard, out of Madigan's sight. But not to worry-- Madigan is on it.

From window to window-- living room, study, guest room, bedroom, dining room -- and back to the living room for but a short look before repeating the search. His intent is obvious -- keep up with that rabbit!!

In the living room is wooden rocking chair near the window. Aha-- Madigan  has discovered if he climbs on the rocking chair he has a wider view. So with back feet planted firmly on the cushioned seat-- front feet resting on the arm he stands, tail up, one foot raised for quick leaping down, head moving from side to side, eyes surveying all he can behold. Then a rabbit (my yard is so rabbit infested this year) hops into his sight. Down from the chair, at the window he waits. The rabbit nibbles clover, moves on out of Madigan's sight. From window to window he retraces his previous pursuit of the rabbit. Until exhausted from the effort he falls into the prone position and promptly falls asleep. A rabbit reappears, nibbles clover and eventually moves on. Madigan sleeps on.

Too Young and Bold or Too Old and Wary

Young mothers and old pet owners share wariness. As a new mother I worried about my first child-- his first steps, turned to falling, sent my heart racing, my legs running, my arms reaching. My third child - I barely remember his learning to walk. Why did I not remember that?

As an old pet owner I seem to have regressed to the young mother  syndrome. My  trusted dog, Petronius, old like me was a stay close to home, come on the double when whistled for, sleep long hours  Mutt. But Petronius developed a stomach tumor, which claimed his life.

Since my husband's death my home had been a two person habitat -- me and Petronius. With Petronius gone it was just me! A lonely existence. That's how I came to have Madigan-- a not quite two year old beagle-terrier mix. My instinct had been to adopt an older dog, but this cute little white with brown spots Mutt stole my heart when I learned he was on the 'to be killed list'.

Now to my old woman wariness. I was so diligent at keeping Madigan on leash unless confined to the house or fenced in garden. The fear he might stray from home and not find his way home haunted me. And stray I knew he would for his need to chase rabbits was unconquerable. And so many rabbits live in my yard and surrounding property. One look from any window in my house will reveal not one or two but three or four or more. If in the house Madigan runs from window to window. If on the leash outside he pulls so hard I am pulled along.

Thus the following scene. The usual 11PM leash walk for bladder and bowel relief on this night was a nightmare. Barely out the door, firmly leashed, Madigan saw or heard or sensed a rabbit. A quick jerk-- he was gone, dragging his leash behind him, disappearing in the dark.

Clad in nightgown, slippers, flashlight in hand, whistle on the lanyard around my neck, I trod my yard-- for what seemed hours. My heart was heavy. I imagined him gone forever. No word but FRANTIC is applicable.

Finally exhausted from walking, calling, whistling and hoping I collapsed on the glider on the front porch. A tear rolled down my cheek. I had lost Madigan.  How long I sat I am not sure. But Madigan-- out if breath , dragging his leash, bounded onto the porch. He jumped into my lap. I clasped him to my chest.

I need an old dog, but I so love this young one.

Dogs and Learning Tricks

Teaching an old dog new tricks-- means what? An easy task? A hard trick? And this is different how from teaching a young dog new tricks? And what kind of new tricks?

Have you ever watched a proud dog owner show off his dog's tricks? Sit, stay, come-- all easy commands. Play dead, jump through hoops, run an obstacle course? not so easy.

But hard?

Hard I saw at a sheep herding demonstration on a recent trip to Ireland. Two border collies lay prone-- with eager eyes which said, "Just tell me when."  They watched the sheep with pricked ears awaiting the slightest command from the shepherd.

Two dozen or more sheep grazed nonchalantly in the field beyond. With but a barely audible whistle from the shepherd, the dog on the left sprang from his prone position, proceeded single mindedly to the top of the field. Further whistles, equally quiet, sent him left, then right, up and down, left and right-- maneuvering the sheep down the hill in a slow even pace.

A sudden whistle sent the second dog no longer prone up the hill to help. For a brief time two masters of herding moved the sheep, until a soft whistle recalled the original dog-- turning the task over to dog two.

With the sheep properly, calmly corralled at the gate both dogs fell immediately into the prone position-- with eager eyes and erect ears --awaiting further commands.

An onlooker asked, "What kind of reward to you give the dogs for their performance?"

Without hesitation the shepherd said, "They don't demand much. Every Friday night I let them warch their favorite Lassie movie."

Home Again with Madigan

Poor Madigan. He had barely gotten used to his new home (I had barely begun my account of his new life) when he was again confined to an institutional environment. My daughter and I left for a visit to Ireland. During our absence he was safely, and I hope not too unhappily, in the 'Dogie Hotel'.

On my return he happily greeted me with what appeared no ill feeling for leaving him. He was settled in the house which prior to his vacation was freed of the cage, purchased for his confinement when alone in the house. The cage was purchased (on sale) for more than $80.00 with the promise of a safe environment when he was alone in the house. Safe for him or for the house? A question never directly addressed. A mute point as it turned out. Madigan whose middle name has become Houdini was not to be confined. His cleverness at figuring out the door locking apparatus first allowed his escape. Stronger restraints led to his use of sheer -- or should I say brute-- force. A bent door and escape.

So my Madigan is not to be confined. But the  magic the name Houdini suggests abounds. He does no harm when left alone in the house. This is most likely the result of the great honor done him in Ireland. The second day of out stay in Dublin we happened on a Pub named MADIGAN. There he honored the 'left at home' dog with a pint. Our second day we discovered the second Pub Madigan where we felt compelled to honor the dog anew. There is a third Pub Madigan. Had we been in Dublin another day we would have honored him a third day.

Home again: daughter gone home to Alaska: Madigan and I settled in our two man household.
 I talk to him; he listens without comment except for the occasional nuzzle. But he is not always silent. A car in my driveway, a person approaching the house, a ring of the doorbell, all set off a barking-- deep, angry and persistent. I love the protector of this small estate. A pint of Guiness now and again proves that love.