For Christmas, Caleb gave me the book,
Merle's Door by Ted Kerasote. I brought it up to Lake Tahoe last week and couldn't put it down. I've read a lot of dog books in the past 20+ years, and this was, by far, one of the best. And, you don't have to be a dog lover to get something out of this book (though, it certainly will have more meaning and 'aha' moments if you are). It is a book about a very powerful, ancient relationship...humans relationship with dogs. Most of us take dogs for granted, but if one really stops to think about it, dogs are an evolutionary marvel...and they chose
us to share life's journey. While the life Ted gave Merle in the small Wyoming town of Kelly certainly gives this dog lover pause (Merle had a dog door and was free to come and go as he pleased 24/7), it also led me to contemplate how we love and how often that love is laced with control (this applies not only to dogs, but to people-especially teenage sons). While Ted felt his open door policy enabled Merle to reach his full potential as a 'freethinking dog', he didn't imply that this was necessary or even possible for every dog in order to reach their potential. He did suggest a 'loosening of the leash' and possibly a second look at the relationship you have with your dog.
The book also brought up my life long desire to live in a natural place. An internal conflict that has haunted me for years. I disdain the suburbs and only find city living bearable since I live near a national park and miles of beaches where my dogs and I can roam seemingly far from cars and people. I long to provide my own dogs with a dog door but maybe this 'dog door' is really something I want. It's a symbol of my desire to escape city life's constraints and crowds. At one time I actually had a dog door for my then dogs. It lead out to a huge yard with grass, trees, visiting cats and birds. If I was home, the dogs (the shepherds, the husky came and went as he pleased-especially if cats were involved) would not go outside unless I went with them - even to pee.
I decided to try out a modified open door policy while in Lake Tahoe, since the cabin had a large enclosed area and was backed up against national forest land. The first two days, the dogs would happily go outside but always turned back waiting for me. If I did not go out, they wanted to come back in. Then, they got the hang of it but started to roam a bit. Roman marked every driveway on the road. I looked down the snow covered road to see bright patches of yellow at entry to every house's driveway! They started following their noses and even disappeared for a bit. Instead of being my usual nervous self, I felt calm and happy that I could give them a small taste of freedom. They came back and we are now back in the city, leashing up for walks 4-5 times a day (we always end up at an off leash place, but, after spending five days without leashes, I am even more resentful of this city living business). My dogs don't seem to care about the leashes...in fact, they are so conditioned to them, they cry at the very sight-even in Tahoe when I'd reach for the leash (I, too, am conditioned to always needing that leash to carry, just in case) after they were already outside..they'd run back in, hopping, dancing and whining about my feet ("It's THE LEASH! OMG, the LEASH! Come ON, let's GO! Ahhh, the LEASH!") as I put the leash in my pocket. What they do seem to care about is their time with me...they want quality
and quantity, it seems. An hour romp at the beach is great, but spending all day with mom, even if we are doing nothing, is even better.
Anyway, the book is sure to spark controversy in some dog training/behavior circles. Frankly, I love Ted's view that Merle was his equal partner, instead of his subordinate to abide by every command. This whole alpha/you must be dominant at all times is a bit too restrictive in my personal relationship with my dogs, that is for sure.
You will need at least one box of Kleenex to get through the end of the book.
