Category Archives: The Dog Star

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

I have a new, free video series on RESOLVE: http://www.summitconsulting.com/resolve/ and, as I frequently do, I use my dogs as examples throughout the videos. I talk about how optimistic they are every day, and how they integrate learning.

The responses to the series have been fantastic, but one person wrote to say that he resents being compared to dogs (“If my dogs can do it, you can do it” I say at one point), and feels I should come up with different examples (in my free videos). He never mentions the worth of the content.

I recall once asking an audience of raucus consultants to be quite and sit down (“SIT!” I shouted) so that I could begin my speech. They laughed and did so, except for one guy who said, “I’m a CMC and won’t be talked to like that! You have no right to insult the best people in the profession!” (Well, I’m a GWWPUWIE—guy who won’t put up with inflated egos, so sit down and shut up.)

I’m constantly telling people that I’m surprised at how stupid I was just two weeks ago. You can compare me to a slug if it will help me learn something. I’m nether so insecure nor so arrogant that I need a constant, positive litany of my standing or recognition of the indecipherable 19 initials after my name.

You could be a lot worse off than being compared to a purebred German Shepherd. And if you don’t like dogs, I’ll remind you that it’s a long, long fall off a phony high horse.

© Alan Weiss 2012. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

We took the dogs to the annual blessing of the animals in the parking lot of the school of Our Lady of Mercy Church nearby. There were about 50 dogs (plus some cats and one gerbil) and a hundred people at the brief and always rewarding ceremony, celebrated by one of the priests.

Koufax, of course, stands out, with most people asking just what the heck he is. (In fact, Buddy was the only Beagle, which made him quite happy.) Kids grab at his fur and adults get close, and he’s quite docile with them. However, he did snap at two other, large dogs, doing his alpha thing. He’s not crazy about canine socializing.

A new book about the most famous Shepherd of all, Rin Tin Tin (the original, silent movie dog), makes the point that if you have to show a Shepherd something more than once, the problem is with you, not the dog. They are bright, great with kids, and will defend you with their lives. But like all of us, they have their own idiosyncrasies, and Koufax prefers not to socialize with strange dogs.

He’s aloof.

I don’t demand he act like a chatty poodle or a gregarious lab. It’s why I don’t attempt to train our dogs to be performing seals. I feel they deserve to lead their own lives, within some rules that enable productive social interaction (use the yard, not the kitchen).

We shouldn’t judge others by our own standards. Some of the most interesting people I know, whose company I enjoy, tend to be very quiet most of the time. Some others snap at people who get in their space. I can allow for it. I can even imagine, though it’s a stretch, that some of my habits aren’t those that others would hold dear.

But I’m pretty flexible, so long as no one tugs on my fur.

© Alan Weis 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Koufax generally takes a good look around. He’ll sit for a moment or simply stand stock still while he rotates his head. It saves him a lot of unnecessary trips (his onboard computer can tell him whether he has a chance of catching the squirrel) and I believe he simply enjoys it. (One dog expert posited that dogs are at their happiest doing absolutely nothing, an observation I’ve seen no reason to dispute.)

I had watered two small evergreens I’ve transplanted from a tangle of growth they don’t belong in to a nice spot overlooking the pond, and I decided just to stop and look around. After a few minutes I saw two fish, which tells me that our restocking was probably a success (that and the presence of Great Blue Herons and Black Crowned Night Herons with regularity). I saw turtles hardly visible on the mud flats, and a snapping turtle nest where the eggs had been dug up. (That happens all the time, yet the snappers clearly successfully perpetuate the species.)

Then, under a row of hastas, I saw a snake. We’ve had snakes here for 25 years, but they’re seen very rarely. We call this guy a “racer” because of his neat racing stripes, but he’s probably a garden snake. He’s about a foot long, which means he’s been around for a while.

Fortunately, Koufax wasn’t around and Buddy Beagle would probably be scared by the forked tongue. I was mesmerized.

That’s what happens when you stop to look around. You see things that you miss when you run through the place. You may be missing opportunity, gratification, clients, financial return, adventure. You need to stop and look.

I believe that’s what the snake was doing, probably now telling his buddies that he saw me.

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Every single morning, Buddy Beagle attempts to take a toy through the kitchen door and out into the yard. He is not allowed to do this, since the stuffed animals are ruined in the rain and snow. But he tries every single morning, and there is a veritable zoo of inanimate animals gathered around the kitchen door, where they have been confiscated by my wife and me.

However, once every week or so, he makes it. He pretends to drop the animal but keeps it on the side of his body away from us, or drops an alligator and picks up a frog. Sometimes Koufax will bark and distract us, because there’s a squirrel in his sights. But Buddy does succeed, and his success rate clearly is gratifying and motivates him to continue trying. He has never, ever brought a toy back into the house from the yard. That is not the fun of it.

Buddy apparently is not concerned about his batting average or even improving his game. He’s simply involved in having some fun with us in the morning, and I’ve come to realize that, win or lose, he is simply having a good time. He wasn’t grumpy or upset when we grabbed the animal from him, and didn’t even fight to keep it (and he has tremendous jaw strength). Nor, when he managed to liberate a giraffe or skunk, did he sit there with it in his mouth in the grass, taunting us. He simply played the game for the fun and then moved on to other canine things.

Some things we should just do for the sheer delight, win or lose. We shouldn’t invest our egos, track the results on a spread sheet, or try to Google more advanced applications. We should simply rejoice.

I like to try to grow things, but I have varying degrees of success, from transplanted pine trees thriving at the pond, to vegetables that were devoured by forms of vermin I never even realized existed. I once had a huge electric train layout, and I don’t ever remember operating it for more than 20 minutes without a derailing, crash, or other failure (including one small fire). I love driving exotic cars, but every one I’ve ever owned has had a flaw or fault somewhere.

The point is to enjoy everything you can that needn’t be competitive or judged. There is enough in our lives to place us in competition and evaluation. When we try to extend metrics to all of our lives, we can never “win enough” or “be successful enough.” It’s like playing Angry Birds: There’s always another, tougher level.

Be happy with the sheer joy of life. Sometimes an accomplishment once every week is sufficient. Here I am, successful against Buddy’s habit six days out of seven, and feeling like I’m a failure! I need to get over that….

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

My German Shepherd, Koufax, routinely picks up a squeaky toy (he has dozens) and drops it next to me on the couch. I throw it, and he does a lap or two of the bedroom and then drops it six feet away. I retrieve it, throw it again, and the process continues. On average, after six tosses, he fetches it, jumps on the bed and lies down. The game is over.

I was always somewhat disappointed that the brilliant Koufax never caught on to how to actually fetch and retrieve. He only brought the toy close to me when the game started.

Then I realized, it was his game, not mine. He had trained me to throw the toy when he first brought it, but then to go to where he dropped it on the returns, and finally that when he “retired” to the bed, we were done. He was playing by his rules, and rather brilliantly. The game is the same every time.

Aside from questions about my IQ, this is a rather good avatar for how to educate clients. Show buyers how YOU play, don’t adapt to how THEY play. Educate them in your payment terms, your interactions, your time efficiencies, joint accountabilities, and so on. And then clearly manifest when that game is over.

We are all creatures of habit, and habits can be broken. I suppose that if I refused to throw the toy unless Koufax brought it closer on each return, he might change his ways. Of course, he might also make me feel guilty about not playing with him.

It all depends on the stronger will, and best persuasive techniques.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

We have with us our daughter, her husband, our twin granddaughters, our son, his girlfriend, our two dogs and our son’s bulldog. Full house, even for us.

The dogs immediately formed a pack. Koufax and Humphrey, the bulldog, fight and play, and Buddy Beagle remains wary and crafty, but they all do things together. They’ll hit my den, sleep on the two dog beds together, but if Koufax leaves the other two will follow. This business of a pack—of “having people,” if you will—is pretty cool.

Last evening, Maria and I heard a crack and felt the house shake a bit. We were the only ones home, and the dogs seemed somewhat uneasy. When we went downstairs, we found one of the huge windows (about 12 by 6 feet) that separate the pool table room from the indoor pool had shattered. (Root cause: Unbeknownst to use, the exhaust fan had failed and the build up of heat from the pool on one side and relative coolness on the other strained the window to shattering point.)

At 8 am this morning I called a glazier, who had a man here by 9, who returned at 10:30 with two others and replaced the glass by 11. My son had cleaned up the mess on both sides, and we put the robot in the pool to clean the bottom. I called the electrician at 8:10 and he had a man here by 9, who stood on a 14-foot ladder IN the pool to access the fan, and order a replacement. Meanwhile, the cleaning crew showed up for the holidays, and Cox Cable came to create a “host” recorder with more memory space that can broadcast elsewhere in the house. All of this was completed by 1 pm, when we took our two dogs for their Christmas bath. (It takes two of us to bring them in and bring them out, Koufax is a tad embarrassing.)

It’s good to have “people.” You get “people” by building strong relationships, providing referrals, paying your bills on time, and treating everyone respectfully. I’d like to think the dogs are my “people,” but I’m beginning to realize I’m actually one of theirs.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.