The Best Dog Ever

“When the Man waked up he said, ‘What is Wild Dog doing here?’ And the Woman said, ‘His name is not Wild Dog any more, but the First Friend, because he will be our friend for always and always and always.’”

Rudyard Kipling (author, The Jungle Book)

First Friend

I’m holding a staff meeting for Darwin Dogs right now.  All of the senior heads are here, and believe me, there is a fair share of grey on those heads.  Including mine.


While I’m not a big believer in routine, I will admit to following a few specific daily rituals.  Namely, my morning ritual.  Up at 5:45 (even on weekends).  Make coffee while the dogs are outside powdering their nose/terrorizing local wildlife. Wake up kids for school.  Grab my breakfast, coffee, and head upstairs to my office and start to work.  Blog posts. Emails, texts, Facebook posts.  Instagram pics, Twitter.  Verifying schedules, client confirmations and updates.  Of course my loyal staff (Sparta and Orion) are there.  Somehow they know when I’m ready to head upstairs to work, and dutifully wait until I’m in my office.  And the door is closed.  Before they come barging in, scaring the crap out of me because after 3 years in the “new” house that has a faulty lock on my office door, I still don’t expect Sparta to come barging in here for our staff meetings.

I swear, I give her plenty of time to come upstairs.  I don’t call her anymore, since her hearing has been failing, and I don’t ever want to make an old dog get up from a comfortable spot for no reason.  So I wait.  I leave the door open.  Surely by now she should be up here if she wanted to come up.  But I really need to get going on my day, so I finally close the door.  It doesn’t latch all the way, but it still affords me the necessary privacy, so I start up the fireplace in my office, get my blanket, and stretch out with a cup of tea on my couch to work.


Sparta comes crashing through the door, and coffee, blanket, and my nerves are all in an uproar.  I never expect it, and my heart is thudding in my ears now, and my nerves are all a skitter from three cups of coffee being startled. I have to get up and re-situate the door, my blanket, my coffee and my adrenaline rush.   I call Sparta my Crazy Bitch for scaring the hell out of me, as I give her a few playful smacks on her ass and a scratch behind her ears. We all settle in for the morning’s work.


It never matters if it takes me 10 minutes or 3 hours to complete the day’s office-oriented tasks; Sparta and Orion stick it out with me, offering their quiet companionship, as they have for the past 8 and 11 years respectively.  But things are different today.

Orion can’t get comfortable, and is pacing.  He keeps trying to stretch, and his tail is dragging on the floor, not held upright like a strutting peacock, like it used to when he was younger. I give him some pain meds (he has some arthritis now, plus has some issues with a slipped disk).  He finally settles into a calmer state and sleeps on the floor next to me.  Getting up onto the couch with me is a thing of the past, due to his age and spine issues.

Sparta sometimes drags a leg behind her, arthritis and an injury to her ACL forcing her to slow down to accommodate moving on 3 legs until her 4th decides to finally cooperate.  She finds her place quickly, but now snores loudly, and whines and quietly barks under her breath as she sleeps, no doubt dreaming of finally catching the squirrels she loved to chase in her youth. Her legs move in her sleep, testament to her coursing dreams.

Both dogs are riddled with grey. Sparta’s once jet-black coat, so sleek and glorious, is now a faded shade of salt & pepper, with emphasis on the salt. Orion has gray behind his ears and around his muzzle. I, myself, haven’t escaped unscathed either.  At 43, there’s some “tinsel” showing through my dark hair as well.  I guess we’re all in this together.

My first dog was Pebbles, a precocious Border Collie mix my parents adopted from an animals shelter when I was 4. She was the best dog ever.

Kerry and Pebbles0002

She was a total bitch.  And I mean that in the best possible way.  She was confident enough not to have any fear reactivity, and was painfully logical in everything she did. Pebbles was a constant companion. The best dog ever. She was official outfielder when we played baseball (using a tennis ball of course).  She would stay in my room with me until I fell asleep at night, whereupon she would then start her patrol of the house, keeping everyone safe from things that go bump in the night. She would watch Saturday morning cartoons with me, and if I got up during commercial breaks during Voltron or Xmen, she never touched my cereal bowl left on the floor.  She defended me from a creepy guy in the woods when I was 5 (read about her bravery here).

She also knew not to take any crap of my brothers nor me. She bit me once, which I deserved at the time, as I was 6 and trying to play a little too roughly with her.  But she taught me to pay attention to what dogs, and animals were telling me without speaking a word. That small bite on my hand (and yes it bled) taught me how to read and animal’s body language.  I was never afraid of dogs, or any animal, because she taught me that all dogs are like fire: treat them with respect, and be aware of a fire’s ability to burn you, but never fear it, because it is man’s greatest ally.

Pebbles passed at the age of 16. Being a young adult myself at that time, and just starting out on my career, out on my own in the world, I missed her last days. I still treasure her memory, but though I feel I grew up with her, I don’t feel quite like we actually aged together. I missed her best years: the senior dog years.

With Orion, and especially Sparta, it feels different.  Sparta has been with me since Eric and River were very young. They both felt like my third and fourth children, rather than pets.  I raised them as I was raising my family. Every morning, patiently waiting for the morning ritual of coffee, breakfast, head into the office, do work. Only back then, it was full of interruptions.  Diaper changes. Messes to clean up.  Lunches to be made.  Add in a full schedule of dog training appointments, and looking back, I don’t know how I did it all.  But I did.  We did.  And sometimes, the dogs got lost in the shuffle.  A few walks were missed.  I ignored the rope toy hanging out of Sparta’s mouth, dangling like an unanswered question, “Can we play now?”.  All said and done, I did the best I could during those busy years, and if I want to be honest, I did much more than most.  But I always ask myself, was it enough?

Darwin was my dog from the time I was 21 until I was 32.  He was the best dog ever.

He seemed to understand that, as a young adult, sometimes I needed to go out with my friends, and that there would be a shorter walk that evening when I got home from work.  He was just as happy to spend time with me watching Animal Planet and National Geographic as he was to go romping off on day-long hikes.  He went with me just about everywhere.  He was even my date to a wedding.  All my friends knew him (and called him D-dog, or Darwin Dog), and knew if I was coming to a party, Darwin was, too.

Darwin got old without me noticing.  He was with me through boyfriends and breakups. Apartments and my first house.  He never complained when I added a baby and a husband.  And then another baby.  Life was a whirlwind towards the end. Again, I did the best I could, but one day I looked at him, and he was old. Why hadn’t I notice? He had given me his all.  I had given him my best. He had taught me so much, though.  Picking up where Pebbles left off, he taught me to read when a dog was unnecessarily defending me, and how to let them know that I didn’t need to be protected from every single dog we passed on a walk.  He taught me everything I know about how to work with a counter-surfing dog.  He was my boy, and still is.  The best dog ever.

Darwin's last pic.

Darwin’s last pic.

Now that I have my coffee back in it’s place on the desk next to my sofa in my office, and my computer is set up, my blanket wrapped around me, I’m ready to get to work.  Orion is comfortable, finally.  He’s taught me so much about unconditional trust.  Every day he goes to work with me is a day he is paraded in front of a dog who wants to kill him, but he trusts me to protect him.  He knows I won’t let him down, therefore I never will.  He and I are partners.  Those of you who come to the pack walks have seen him in action.  He teaches the newcomers how to walk a dog, giving them just enough sass to help them hone their Piloting skills. He’s shown owners of dog-reactive dogs how to work through their dogs’ issues by being “bait”.  A truly terrifying job, if you stop to think about it.  Yet he has never once hesitated when called on to do his duty.  He has shown me how to take pride in your work.  How to let go and trust your partner.  He’s a senior now, and slower, but still ready the moment the words, “Pack Walk” leave my lips. I learned the true meaning of teamwork from Orion. The best dog ever.


Sparta is snoring peacefully, apparently having either caught her squirrel in her dream, or perhaps shown mercy to it. I see her gray hair.  I see her slower gait.  I not only see her aging, ,becoming old (hell, she is old!), but I embrace it.  Sparta has taught me so much. She showed me that it’s always futile to muscle your way through a dog on a leash, no matter how they are reacting.  She’s taught me what it truly means to put on your Piloting uniform and work with a dog-reactive dog. She’s taught me that just because you’re a 120lb canine, you can still be terrified of other dogs, and it’s okay to be afraid.  She taught me what unconditional trust is, by letting me Pilot her through those scary situations. She’s the best dog ever.


Sparta has taken up a new hobby in her sleep: she farts.  I guess it’s an old age thing, but the part that gets me is that when she farts, she wakes herself up, sniffs the air, gets a sour look on her face, and then puts herself in the corner, where she falls asleep again, only to repeat the ritual.  So far the maximum number of times she’s repeated is 3, which makes me wonder what happens when it hits 4, and she’s out of corners.  I can’t wait to find out, as I try to wave the stench from the air with an old magazine. Getting old ain’t for sissies, as Betty Davis once said.  I can only hope that I’m not putting myself in corners when I get to be senior citizen.  My future apologies to those around me if I end up doing so despite my best intentions.

We’ve wrapped up our morning meeting and are ready to get started with the rest of our day.  By the time I get home, I’m exhausted, and head up to my office to relax a little.  I wait for Sparta to join Orion and me.  I leave the door open for her.  It’s been 10 minutes, and she’s not up here yet, and I want to watch a movie, so I close the door that doesn’t latch.  Five minutes go by.  Fifteen minutes go by.  I don’t want to call her in case she’s sleeping, and there is a special place in hell for people who make old dogs move without good reason.  So I continue watching my movie without her, assuming she’s going to stay downstairs for once, and maybe she doesn’t want to -


Popcorn goes flying everywhere and my heart is in my throat, my nerves on edge, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s the best dog ever.


Keep calm and pilot on

Kerry Stack
Darwin Dogs
Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

Spot the Fakers – 6 Warning Signs You’re Not Dealing with an Ethical Online Pet Pharmacy

pet meds

Much like everything else sold on the internet, there are people selling authentic pet products and meds and there are those who sell fake items. There are more than a few pet pharmacies online that sell counterfeit medications, supplements, and pet food

Sometimes, these fake pet pharmacies are easy to spot. They often offer unbelievable discounts on really popular pet products, have shady websites, and feature “badges of authenticity” that really don’t mean anything.

Honestly, you cannot debate the convenience of buying pet medications online. While there are unethical pet pharmacies, there are also those who sell 100% genuine products, offer great discounts, provide quick doorstep delivery, and feature honest pet meds reviews by real customers. The key is to learn how to filter out these good pet pharmacies from a long list of bad ones. It’s actually pretty easy and once you know the steps you will never have to worry about buying counterfeit pet products ever again. Without further ado, the following are 6 warning signs that you are not dealing with an ethical pet pharmacy.

Websites Not Asking You to Upload a Vet’s Prescription for Prescription Pet Medication

No matter what the selling platform, it’s mandated by law to check the prescription before selling any prescription medication, be it for pets or humans. Therefore, any site that does not adhere to that is essentially breaking the law. That also means, there is a high likelihood that they procure their products from counterfeiters or relabel expired pet meds.

The Pet Pharmacy is Not Vet-VIPPS Accredited

National Association of Board of Pharmacy (NABP) is an international organization that assesses both human and pet pharmacies and offers licenses and accreditations. They introduced the VIPPS program back in 1999 to accredit genuine online pharmacies. As its name implies, the Vet-VIPPS accreditation is offered by NABP to online pet pharmacies.  Most genuine pet pharmacies feature the Vet-VIPPS accreditation logo on their homepages.

Selling Pet Medications That Are Not FDA Approved

If you spot a pet med that’s not FDA approved, then consider that as an immediate redflag. No genuine pet pharmacy would ever risk featuring a medication that’s not regulated. Therefore, if you spot one, it’s a telltale sign that you are dealing with an unethical pharmacy.

Prices Sound Too Good to Be True

If the prices sound too good to be true, then it should invoke suspicion. This means the product featured did not come through the proper channels, which is always dangerous.  Apart from being sold fake products, you might end up buying meds manufactured outside the United States.

Not Listed or Poorly Rated on Better Business Bureau

BBB is an old school way checking a business’s online reputation and it still holds much ground. Head over to the BBB website and check to see if the website is listed. An unlisted website should be rejected immediately. The good thing about BBB is that you can also check customer reviews and ratings.

The Site Doesn’t Allow You to Write a Review

Most trusted online pet pharmacies would allow you to write a product review. If you buy from them the review gets marked as “Verified”. This is a risky move for people selling fake products, that’s why almost none of them allow visitors to write reviews.