Bubba and the Killer Kelp

Bubba came into my life as a finished Champion. Ch Bushbabies Serengeti Ti-Mtu lived with his breeder as part of an impressive pack. I would see him at the different dog shows and events as he earned his points and ran courses. He was a big tri boy with expressive eyes and a very laid back personality. He was “Uncle Bubba” to all the puppies as they came along. He played gently and didn’t mind having his ears tugged or his tail chewed. As the puppies grew up Bubba would always find his way down one more rung in the pack order. There was just something “soft” in him, and every other dog knew it and took advantage.

For many years Bubba did well as part of his original pack. But finally the top dog started picking fights. Bubba came to visit me in the aftermath of one attack for some time to heal and some mental space from the problem. He fit in with my dogs and we loved having him. So much that he stayed and became part of our family.

My dogs have always been beach dogs. Bubba would be no exception, but first he had to have a good recall and I needed to evaluate if he could learn to run leash free. So we hit the beach daily, without other dogs, so I could concentrate on our newest addition. First we went on a flexi lead so he could run out to the end of the line and I could call him in for treats. Then we moved to his dragging a long line so I could enforce the recall if he wasn’t responding. Bubba was sort of a one trick pony, but his recall was really working! It had taken months but I felt we were ready for a group outing.

It was leap of faith time. I loaded everyone into the car and we went to the local dog beach. I freed the dogs one at a time leaving Bubba until last. The dogs were running up and down the dunes chasing sandpipers, bugs and each other. They came back nicely as a group when I called, then would return to play tag with the waves. Low tide is the best beach time with the dogs. There are so many interesting things to sniff and scratch and they could dig holes in the wet sand.

Bubba was running free with the pack and loving it! At some point a long strand of kelp became wrapped around one of his hind legs. I could tell by the way he was running that he was scared while the attached kelp was “chasing” him down the beach. I called to him and he headed back in my direction and I grabbed at the kelp as he zoomed in a large circle around me in a panic. Once free from the kelp Bubba was unsure and maybe even a little embarrassed. He looked pretty foolish as he stood back and then walked in a large circle around the offending vegetation. He was skittish as if he was expecting it to jump back up and grab him again. I don’t know why I did it, but I picked up a piece of driftwood and started beating the kelp into the ground. There, take that, you stupid kelp! As I was whacking it the dogs started to join in, jumping in close and nudging it with their noses before jumping away. Bubba finally joined in and I stepped back as he nipped at it and then picked it up and gave a shake or two. Drama over.

I know people that were watching probably wondered about my sanity. I was acting pretty crazy but didn’t really care. Bubba’s confidence was back and he dragged the kelp for quite a distance as we headed back to the car.

Many beach trips followed and Bubba was constantly on patrol for “Killer Kelp”. He would find a particularly threatening strand and kill it before dragging it off or carrying it proudly down the beach. It became tradition to bring back a small part of the kill and I would let it dry on our fence before I gave it back to him and he would shred it out of existence.

Bubba playing wave tag

**Bubba has been gone for several years now. I have his ashes here on a shelf in a memory box that has the photo of him chasing waves printed on it. And beneath the urn is a piece of dried kelp. Because that is how I like to remember him. Many thanks to Bushbaby Basenjis for entrusting us with this special boy.**

Squirrel

I take my dogs to work with me most of the time. Looking back, I am not quite sure when it first started. In my mind I had attributed it to Kiwi and her ability to escape from nearly anything; but that is wrong, it goes back farther than that.

Kiwi

A friend once compared me to a young mother making her way through the day with one baby in her arms and a couple of toddlers in tow. I guess it is sort of like that. I have just never seen the point of having dogs if I am just going to take off each day and leave them waiting at home. Instead, we drive by the beach and forest every day on our commute and if there is time we can stop to enjoy them and opportunities are not missed. Sometimes I take one dog and leave two at home; that way we all have company, and the traveling dog gets a little special attention.

I always just jump out of bed in the morning and rush through routines with one goal in mind: to get into the car with the dogs and get out the door. If it’s light outside, we can stop at the Dog Park or beach so they can stretch their legs a bit before the workday. When it comes down to it, the dogs just love riding in the car. On my days off I often find Bakari sitting next to the car waiting to depart. He might as well be pointing at a watch and tapping his foot, the message is so clear: "It’s time to leave Mom, you’re running late!" No, Bakari, it’s a day off; we will be on our way to some adventure, but not just yet.

While I am at work the dogs nap and wait patiently for my lunch break. Sometimes we walk, and sometimes they just hang out and keep me company. I used to leash the traveling dog to my ankle and leave the driver’s side door open while I ate lunch in the car.

But that didn’t work out so well in the spring when the baby squirrel population exploded. One day I found myself sitting on the pavement next to the car after one baby decided to come see what we were doing there. While the leash kept the dog from making a sudden escape, it also served as a great towrope. It didn’t stop the dog – he just dragged me behind him as he ran after the squirrel. Hmmm, not working as I planned…

Then I started leaving the sunroof open a bit so we could get fresh air, yet keep the dog inside the car. First I would walk the dog, then share my sandwich, give some pats, and then read a bit. It was a nice break in a busy day. It calmed and centered me before I returned to work for the second half of my shift.

After a few weeks of this, I was patting myself on the back for the change in strategy, when a squirrel dropped through the sunroof. What had happened actually took a few seconds to register with Bakari, and I was sitting there frozen in shock myself. The squirrel started zipping around looking for an exit, with Bakari in hunter mode right behind him. SQUIRREL! Squirrel in the car, Mom!

Bakari was running around inside my small car using the crate, the windows, and me for speed turns. I felt like I was inside a tornado that went on forever, but it really only took me about 5 dog laps before I could grab Bakari’s collar. I stuffed him into the crate. With the crate rocking and shaking from his trying to run inside it, I opened the back hatch so the squirrel could depart.

My peaceful lunch break was anything but that! My food was all over the car, a page got torn from my book as Bakari ran over it, and I had racing stripe scratches on my arms from dog claws!

I pulled myself together and, returned to work, sharing what had happened during my short lunch break. It seems that, more often than not, I provide a bit of humor and entertainment for my co-workers. They have learned an awful lot about Basenjis over the years.

The dogs continue to travel to work with me, and they continue to share my lunch break. It’s just a way of life for me. But I don’t leave the sunroof open anymore…as least not in the spring when there’s a boom in the squirrel population!

Even More Basenji Stories

Bubba and the Killer Kelp

Squirrel