I’m whipped.

This was my “office” on Friday:

Stan and I went to Deer Lake with six other OLC folks (teachers and interns) to spend the day with the Deer Park School District’s fifth graders. They spent the day rotating through seven stations of science-based activities.

I’m just a volunteer, and I have to say, I do not know how “real” teachers do this every day. Give these folks a raise. For real. Between the teaching and the driving (~100 miles, round trip from my house), it was an exhausting day.

Fifth graders are, on the whole, amazing people. They’re smart, curious, and observant, and they ask great questions. (I suspect fifth grade is just before most of the massive social pressure kicks in.) I have a prepared presentation, but if I’m with a group on a field trip (in other words, no curriculum requirements have to be met), and they want to talk about something else related to the bird I’m using, I’m all in for that. Those are some great conversations. Yeah, ok, sure, the kids can be all over the place, but geez, if they’re out at a lake on a beautiful Friday around the end of the school year? Entirely understandable.

Stan was, as always, completely charming. Harris’s Hawks are more social than other birds of prey, and Stan (a retired falconer’s bird with a significant (healed) wing injury) seems to like being the center of attention… so long as everybody keeps their distance. He spent the day preening, and rousing, and jumping onto the ground to foot something, sometimes stopping to watch the kids watch him.

Being outdoors means there are lots of distractions, but there’s also some really great stuff going on! In the morning, there were crows looking (and sounding) like they were getting set to mob Stan (and me), so it was a relief when the kids got there. There was a bumblebee wandering around the space we were in — I suspect we were near the bee’s nest, so the kids and I got to talk about bumblebee life cycles, and how to respect a bumble when they look like they’re wandering around near the ground. A pair of local bald eagles made an appearance around lunchtime. I got there a little bit early, and saw a great blue heron hunting at the lake’s edge (and later some red-winged blackbirds mobbing the heron as they flew across the lake).

It was a great — and exhausting day. And then yesterday, Lucy (the menace like Dennis) “graduated” from puppy kindergarten, part 2. We’re laying a foundation for recall, and waiting/staying (yesterday I learned that those are two very different ideas), and learning how to greet people without knocking them over (work in progress, but improving!). She loves training — the interaction, and the treats — and I’m starting to be able to use a short session of whatever we’re working on to redirect her when her short-circuiting puppy brain gets all wound up.

Lu was so wary when she came to us almost four months ago, I was concerned that she was going to be afraid of other people or dogs. So far it does not look like that’s the case, although she needs a minute to warm up to new people or situations. I’m not sure she’ll be a dog who will tolerate random strangers walking up to her for pets — she has to observe and assess the situation in a way and place she feels safe in — so we’ll have to advocate for her in those instances.* Once she’s determined that everything is OK, she’s all in. (She starts wiggling and whining if she just hears Allie, one of our puppy-K teachers.)

The thing about puppy school is that it’s work for everybody. Lucy is almost seven months old. Her attention span is short. Trying to pay attention to the wonderful, can’t recommend them enough trainers and keep track of Lucy for an hour and a half is… something. So a session of puppy school, after a long teaching day… I’m going to need a minute.

(One of the things I’m excited to work on is teaching Lucy how to give hugs, so she can have the experience of an intimate greeting in a gentle and orderly way. That’s going to take some work, but it will be worth it.)

* On IG, MyBoyRudder’s person Maddie said something I’ve been thinking about a lot: everyone would be better off if we assume that no one wants anything to do with our dogs. We’re working with Lucy so that she will be attentive to us when we’re out in the world — we want her to notice, and be aware of, other people and other dogs, but to turn her attention back to us. Our goal is to work with her so we can act calmly in tandem, even when other people or dogs can’t. If someone wants Lucy’s attention, they can proactively ask for it and we can mediate the interaction in a way that’s safe for them and for her. We have a long way to go to get there (we’re starting by asking her to sit and look at us when she hears the phrase “can I pet your dog?”)… we will work on it.