Ode to Dixie

 

Because this is a blog mainly about my foster dogs and rescue endeavors, I have failed to ever dedicate an entire post to Dixie, the matriarch of our pack. So, as I make my first entry in 2014 in hopes of a better year, not only in the blogging world (one of my resolutions was to get back at it, no matter what), but the year as a whole, this one is for my girl, "Schmick."

I have never lived with another dog like Dixie.  She is a total mess.  There are so many things she does that drive me absolutely nuts and most of them are because she is so damn smart.  She takes every opportunity to scavenge the kitchen.  She can and will jump any gate.  She can climb up to any counter and has no qualms about snatching food from atop. Each attempt is as passionate as the next, whether it's a juicy steak or merely a stray cheerio she is seeking.  She can open all of our cupboards and will even crawl completely into the garbage cupboard with the door closed behind her so as not to be seen as she forages.  Even though she adores people and never meets a stranger, there is one exception.  She guards her home and her pack fiercely from the evil people that come to the doorstep everyday in blue uniforms.  The only worse enemies are the more sporadic brown-uniformed people.  Our typically mild mannered girl turns into Kujo at the mere sound of the UPS truck.  She can hear it coming from blocks away.  Being an almost exclusively online shopping household, this fiasco is a pretty regular happening.  She is also a predator extraordinaire and will not hesitate to kill anything small and furry, feathered, or scaled.  She has a lump of scar tissue with a fang hole in the middle of her snout from an encounter with a copperhead in 2008.  And sadly, the murders of several chipmunks, rats and mice, baby birds, an over confident squirrel, and even a feral cat have occurred on our property over the years.  Being a lover of all creatures great or small, these statistics disturb me.  Because she is blessed with hybrid vigor (she is a healthy and tough mutt), I believe that her mischievous behaviors will continue well into her golden years. 

 

What?  I sit up here all the time.

 

Bad to the bone.

 

How do we put up with a dog like that?  Simple.  Because she is also Super Dog.  Dixie is as intetlligent as they come and loves to prove it by showing off her many talents.  She knows all the formal obedience "commands" as well as several fun tricks, like jumping through hoops and giving high fives (left and right paws).  Years ago, before our fostering days, she and I trained in agility.  She feared no obstacle and although we didn't formally compete, she excelled easily to the top of her class.  Because of that training, she will climb ladders, cross beams and bridges and even do the slides at the playground.  But what really makes Dixie Super Dog in my mind, and why she is irreplaceable to me, is that she is probably the most important member of our little rescue family. 

She gets beside herself excited when a new foster comes along.  She clearly has working dog in her mixed blood and she absolutely understands that being a teacher and support system to each dog is her job.  And she takes it very seriously. The more severely damaged the dog is, the more time she spends trying to mend them.  This is not something that we taught Dixie.  It can't be taught.  Over time, she has learned what we expect of her in relation to our fosters, but her ability to read and work with these dogs has developed way beyond our expectations.   I can't exactly put into words how impressed I am watching her work her magic.  Just when I think I have seen it all, she surprises me again.  It's something that even if you saw in person, if you haven't had the experience of being around a truly troubled rescue dog, you may not appreciate how special her gift really is.  So, you'll have to take my word for it.  She is really something.  One in a million. 

Frolicking with Jax and fosters Roxie and Reagan.

 

With foster, Bella

 

 

With foster, Calista enjoying a rare Arkansas snow day.

 

With foster, Calista.

 

With foster, Lincoln.

 

With foster, Bindi Sue.

 

Dixie was born on the street for all we know.  She is a scrapper and a survivor.  She would've probably been happier living on a huge farm where she could spend her days hunting and patrolling.  But that wasn't in the cards for her.  Instead, she is queen of our ever-changing pack, an irreplaceable part of our family.  Sometimes I fear that this lifestyle that I have forced on her is unfair.  Because of her almost human-like qualities, I expect more out of her than I should.  She often takes a backseat to the dogs that demand more of my attention.  And worst of all, she regularly gets her heart broken when her precious "kids" that she works so hard on, leave her behind for their new families.  Still, as much of an emotional toll that her rescue life takes on her, she never lets in break her.  It has become a part of who she is, just as it has for me. 

Passed out with Dad in her younger days.

 

Throw back to the pre-fostering days.  With Asia (RIP)

 

Another throw back

 

This is the very first week we found Dixie and her traveling companion (now Phoebe). At the time, we called them "white dog" and "shep" and had no intentions of keeping either one. 

 

 

 

I have no doubt in my mind that Dixie would give her life to protect any member of her family, human or canine, without a second thought. 



Full name:  Dixie Lynn Steen
Nick name " The Schmick"   
Age: 7 years in February
Breed: All American (mutt). Her most visible roots are pit bull- type.
Likes: hunting, flirt pole, hiking-especially rock climbing, geocaching,  (human) children, her "job"
Dislikes: getting wet, getting her nails trimmed, people in uniform, simple-minded dog games, such as fetch- clearly below her.