Build Your Brand

Halloween Weekend Gone

Turned the calendar over last night after the last trick-or-treater faded into the cold mist of lightly falling rain, dinner was done and the dogs fell quiet. 

Well, Tessa stopped barking.  Jasper continued to lay patiently facing the entrance hall, waiting for someone to knock on the door or ring the bell.   Halloween is his special time as he thinks all of the nightly visitors come just to meet him. 

Saturday was the warmer night to be outside running across lawns.  Unfortunately, the temperatures dropped late on Sunday afternoon and the resulting rain banished most of the hob-goblin visitors.

All things considered, it was a quiet weekend.  In between methdodic searching for a small wallet that I'd mis-placed (the wallet with both bank credit cards tucked inside), which required a lot of turning bags and briefcases inside out,  having endless conversations with myself followed by visualizing, followed by peering underneath beds,  and then reluctant acts of cleaning,  I closed out the month of October sales,  read far enough into Sara Paretsky's  Bleeding Kansas to decide it was worth my time to stick with it,  and took enough of the framed artwork off of the walls for dusting purposes to reaffirm my delight with having artwork that belonged to my in-laws and to my mom placed where I can see them every day, along with the pieces that A and I have picked out over time. 

Cleaning.  I've always thought this was an overrated activity except that living in clean swept, uncluttered spaces has its appeal.  And, Lord knows, somebody has to do it!  

******

The talk in the village is all about the proposed plans for a new library.   It's been the undercurrent  swirling around the village for years;  a "hot topic" because those of us who live in the village are adamant that whatever decisions are made keep the "new" library in the village.  I suspect that it's not just "those of us who live in the village" who feel strongly about this.   The library staff asked, and continued to ask the community what we wanted.  What we all wanted was for the library to remain in the village.

Plans have been drawn up - the result of the Library Board's work with two architectural firms:  SWBR,  located here in Rochester and Tappe Associates,  a nationally recognized expert in library design.  (Information included in the handout you can pick up at the Fairport Public library.)

One meeting to up-date the public has already been held and a second meeting - for those of us who couldn't attend the first one - is scheduled for November 16th.

There's a lot to be talked about before we are asked to vote on a $16.3 million bond to relocate the library. 

But.

What's important is that finally,  we have a plan in place that gives a physical shape to the dream.  Now,  all we have to do is believe.

Believe. 

See.

See it in your heart first.   Know that you'll find what you believe is there. 

Just like my "lost" wallet that deviled my waking thoughts for almost two days.   I believed it was somewhere in the house despite the fact that I couldn't see it.   Patience and visualization.  Mentally retracing my actions. 

Getting closer to figuring it out.  Looking.  Finally,  my eyes spied the wool jacket I'd worn a few days ago now hanging on the closet door knob.  Before I pulled that jacket off the door knob to reach into one of the pockets,  I knew that's where I'd find my wallet.

The energy shifted from broad swirls of unknowing to tight worls of recognition.   Reaching into one of the pockets, my fingers closed around the smooth surface of my wallet.

Patience and belief. 

See.

 

Men And Dogs

Tessa, The Wonder Dog has been with us since May.   Although she's been missing from my blog posts for a while,  she's been staking her claim as an energetic part of the family, wrapping her paws securely around the hearts of my son and husband.

Son first, because he came around to her first.  Husband second, because he, somewhat grudgingly, followed suit.

If you come from a family of "big dogs" you'll know what I'm writing about.  What is it about men and dogs?  Some guys love the larger breeds and refuse to recognize a dog weighing less than 40 pounds as a dog.  

And, a dog that weighs 20 pounds?  Denial. 

It helps that Tessa's heart is bigger than her physical size.  She's fierce when it comes to guarding the house from any perceived threat on her part.  When she's out in the yard, she patrols with the intense concentration of a German Shepherd before surrendering to the joyful pleasures of air-sniffing for dog-delicious smells that send her boing-ing off across the yard.

We've got her back in Level One obedience with  K-9 healers  for socialization more than anything else.  This time, she's partnered with my husband,  A.  When my schedule permits, I tag along to watch. 

And, this time,  she's not the stand-out dog in class that needs the most "work".  She's focused on what she's doing and, more often than not,  A takes off her anxiety wrap soon after the class begins.

Partnering with A once a week translates into more positive interactions between the two of them at home.   Tessa's a lot more responsive  to A ; not shying away from him, not barking furiously at him when she feels insecure. 

She's staked out places where she likes to curl up in various rooms in the house so that she doesn't have to be constantly at my side.  She's small enough to burrow into one of the sofa cushions in the sun room.  Upstairs, she'll dive into the pile of pillows on the bed or she'll sleep, nose-to-tail on the dog bed in my study. 

She doesn't look like a stray.  Her coat's shiny, her eyes are bright.

She's extremely inquisitive and upbeat - traits that are part of her temperament.

She's skittish.  Learned behavior from whatever happened to her when she was a stray.  If someone leans over her,  reaching their long arm down to pat her,  she startles:  pulls back immediately and, I suspect, if she wasn't leasehed,  she'd bolt.

Probably not going to be a therapy dog. 

Candidate for agility?  Oh, yeah. 

Heart stealer?  Most definitely.   Her willingness to trust always lurked somewhere in the background even when she was backing away (from my husband) or standing her ground, barking furiously (at my husband) or scrambling, at the end of her leash, to get to something (another dog).

What constantly amazes me and gives me profound joy is that indescribable "something" that dogs have that wants to bond with people.  Watching the intangible rewards when that happens between one pint-size dog and the two men in my life who I love more than life itself is priceless.

 

 

 

It Takes A Village

It takes a village to 1) raise a child and to 2) back you up when you've got critters and are going on vacation, which I've been reminding myself this past week as I've attempted to line up someone in the neighborhood to come in daily to feed my three cats.  

Finally, after being turned down by two young ladies, both of whom live within two minutes walking distance from my house, my wonderful next door neighbor (who has always taken on the role of cat nanny) agreed to help me out again.  She knows my cats, I don't have to leave a detailed, written list for her, and, as close as she can, she'll stick to the routines that my cats rely on.

The dogs were easy.  Josephine always stays with another of my good friends who lives down the street and around the corner from me.  Margo has always had dogs. Her current canine bud is an ex-racing greyhound. She's got a small, fenced yard and Josephine loves to stay with her. 

Jasper boards at Orchard Kennels and this time, Tessa will tag along with him.  They'll be in runs with a door allowing access to each other.  I've known the owner and her staff for years and their philosophies on raising and living with dogs are similar to mine.  (Shh!  She's ten pounds -at least - under their weight requirement, but they got a good look at her when she visited.  So, they already know that.)

Tessa will go with her anxiety wrap. In fact, she'll be wearing it.  She's been out to Orchard Kennels once before to check things out in anticipation of this coming week.  And, she's beginning to understand what "Tessa, guard the house" means. 

But. This is the first time she'll be in a boarding kennel since we got her almost three months ago.  And, somewhere in her conditioned response memory are the sights and smells of being in a shelter in Indiana.  The shelter where she was slated for euthanasia. 

I know that this time, boarding will be good for her.  She needs to know that there are times when she does get left behind,  that other humans will take care of her and that her human family will come back for her. And, she'll have Jasper.

I've left verbal instructions with our vet's office (we've been taking our animals to Brighton Animal Hospital for more than 15 years) that they have our unconditioned approval to handle any and all emergencies in our absence.  I used to write this all up in a letter with copies distributed to everyone, but, after all of this time, a phone call carries the same weight as my written permission.

We're almost ready to go.  And, Jasper, Josephine, Tessa, and three cats, are almost ready to stay.

"Tessa, Josephine and Jasper:  guard the house."

The Zen of Dog

Where is that space where words disappear into the achingly despondent place of sadness?  I watch as you come into the house after a tough, long weekend of stupid bosses and no honest conversations - your face registering no emotion, but your heart in turmoil.  Tessa crawls into your lap as you curl into her small body. There are no words, just the warmth of a dog that melds into your physical space. 

                                                              *       *      *      *      *

Afternoon delights:  The back of the garage makes a shady space in the yard. The garage itself provides a buffer between me and any sidewalk traffic - if there is any of that as it's a hot Sunday afternoon and nobody's outside. I slouch in a canvass lawn chair, reading one of Stuart Wood's novels, looking up occasionally to watch Tessa poke her nose into the flower beds,  track the zig-zag pattern of a tiny, white butterfly or burrow into the peony bushes disappearing from view.

If I half-shut my eyes, the immediate surroundings on the other side of the chain link fence melt into the heat from the sun, the smell of fresh mowed grass, and the stiff breeze rustling through the trees; clouds swirl patterns overhead in a robin's egg blue sky.  And, I am in the moment and out of the neighborhood.

Tessa and I head back into the house for Josephine and Jasper.  The three of them idly wander the small yard space that has become my sanctuary for the afternoon before stretching themselves out for a snooze.

Where is that space where contentment reaches out into the rich fullness of a Sunday afternoon in July where the only distractions come from Mother Nature, the lure of words on a page, and watching my dogs?

                                                                *      *      *      *      *

Dog School - Week Four

Despite a bit of a rocky start, good things happen in class today.  All of the daily (consistent) work that Tessa and I have been doing begins to pay off. 

Part of the transition to the official start of class is walking from one end of the parking lot to the nursing home entrance where Gail holds her classes.  Tessa walks mostly loose leash until we get closer to the entrance.                                                                                                                                           

As we approach the entrance, a woman and her dog come out of the building and head in our direction.  Tessa starts vocalizing and skittering toward the other dog.  She's beyond being distracted with food and  the last person she pays any attention to is me. 

Making our way around that distraction, we walk into the entrance, pass through the foyer, and make our way to the far wall and the door leading to the stairwell.

Eight steps down to the landing and I find myself looking at yet another women with her dog coming up the stairs from the lower level.   Tessa loses any semblance of composure.  She and I do an about turn and walk up to the landing where Tessa can't see this second dog.

I ask Tessa to hold a sit, which she does, until the stairwell is clear and we continue down.  We've got one more dog owner/dog to pass before we reach the hallway that takes us to the all-purpose room where Gail teaches. 

This owner's experience shows as she hears me warn her that my dog may go slightly nuts as we pass.  "That's okay," she smiles.  "That's how they learn, isn't it?"  

Finally.  We make our entrance into the training room.  A few of the residents, who live here in the nursing home, have come down to watch and to meet the dogs. Tessa's feet skitter across the floor as she and I walk behind several of their wheel-chairs. 

Staking out a spot at the opposite end of both doorways leading into the room, I ask Tessa to sit and then down.  She spends the next eight minutes or more watching other dogs with their owners arrive, find places around the room, and get themselves settled.  

I'm actually straddling Tessa so that my weight does double duty. She's not going to be able to get up until I physically move and, my weight is an additional security for her, much like the anxiety wrap she wears. When my knees protest, I adjust my position.

We're good today.  Tessa stays focused on what I'm asking her to do.  We work in what Gail calls our "body bubble" - we are physically very close to each other. This close proximity is identical to how closely together we've been working during the week before class. 

Today, Tessa is more attentive to the body bubble that she and I create than she's ever been.  Here she is holding a relaxed down with just a whisker's distance between us.

  And, here she is ...

heeling and NOT being distracted by other dogs or other people doing things with their dogs. And, one of my proudest moments for her, here she is mid-way through an exercise that normally is part of Level Two obedience.  We walk (Tessa in heel position) toward Laurie and Maggie as they walk to us.  Laurie and I meet mid-way, ask our dogs to sit and then stay.  She and I look at each other, say a quick, "Hi, how are you?" and then walk away from each other, both dogs still in heel position.

And the very best and most fun of all: "Tessa. COME!"   And, watch her fly to me...

Daily Training With Tessa

Week four of dog school is coming up and here's what I've learned:

Daily To Do List

1.  Three 15 minute, mini-training sessions throughout the day seem to work better for Tessa and me than one 40 minute to an hour training session.  We fit the first one in sometime before 9AM,  add in the second session between 2PM and 4PM, and slot in the third session after 7PM and before 9PM.

2.  The best place in the yard to practice heeling and automatic sits is on the section of narrow sidewalk that is parallel to the outside wall of my house.  This area is completely blocked from our side yard  with its many distractions.  

3.  I break up on leash with some off leash exercises.  When Tessa is running free in the yard and sights on anything that she can see from the section of our yard that offers her a clear view of the neighborhood, I can "re-direct" her to come to me when I say, "Tessa, COME!" and offer a treat as her incentive to get back to me as quickly as she can.

4.  This morning,  we went outside for our morning session and Tessa did not wear her anxiety wrap.  This was the first time I deliberately left it off of her.   She was pretty focused on what we were doing, but there were absolutely NO distractions of any kind.  Except for a couple of large birds that swooped into the yard.  My neighbors with all of their kids and pets must have all taken a vacation day today.

5.  From last Saturday's class to today, I've missed one day of doing a long down with Tessa.  Two nights ago, I used the upstairs hallway for this exercise.  Both Jasper and Josephine decided to hunker down and join us. 

6.  Three days ago, I extended part of our training area to the driveway.  Different surface but I still control the outside distractions with access to an immediate exit strategy.  (I can do an immediate about turn with Tessa into the garage and heel her back into the yard.)

7.  I add sits and "Stay" into whatever is gong on in the house.  Long before we started dog school, Tessa was beginning to figure out what I meant when I asked her to sit before putting her food bowl down.  Two days ago, I began asking her to sit at the top of the back stairs that lead outside, before releasing her so that she can dash out into the yard.

8.  Later today, I'll work in a 15 minute session with her in the front yard. 

It's fascinating watching Tessa use her nose and eyes simultaneously.  She may be holding a sit for me, but oftentimes, she's air-scenting while sitting. 

She is more focused when she wears her anxiety wrap.  And, the flower essences do make a difference.

Possible goal to work toward:  I'd love to work her in my yard with an experienced dog owner.  A LOT of dogs overwhelm her.  If I can get her accustomed to working in a relatively small area with just one other dog,  I can take small steps to getting Tessa comfortable with her peers.  Like having an accountability partner.  <smile>

If you've got any training tips that have worked for you,  Tessa and I would love to hear from you!

Another Day Gets Started In Paradise

Those of us who live with cats know two things:  our cats do not suffer fools gladly and, they like to live on their terms.  We, their humans, live to serve … them.

 

This morning, at my house, was a great illustration of this.  Alarm goes off at 4:30AM.  Not my choice.  The dogs are almost used to this unexpected activity.  Tessa no longer boings out of bed in preparation for her graceful prance down the stairs. 

 

Jasper almost never moves off of his deluxe dog bed until 10:00AM during the school year. That’s because the man this dog loves more than life itself – that would be my husband – doesn’t have to be at work until 9:30AM – and so sleeps in.  Good pack dog that he is, Jasper sleeps in too.

 

Josephine is either sleeping in our son, Alex’s room or she’s found a spot downstairs.  She’ll get up with whoever the early bird is. During late June, the entire months of July and August, and into the early part of September,   that early bird is my husband who works an earlier shift. 

 

The cats are on a schedule all their own.  At the least sign of human activity, regardless of what time it is, they are ready to rock ‘n roll.  Rock ‘n roll translated into kitty terms means, “Feed me …or else.”  They love knowing that someone is up before sunrise.

(William; so innocent.  Check out the extra toes.)

(In his kitten days, looking a bit miffed.)

(Mac - still a baby. He's now three times that size. When I can find his more grown-up photos, I'll stick one in here.)

Now, back to the story.

 

Bleary-eyed and not paying too much attention to the three-part harmony of their feline chorus, my husband feels his way to the bathroom and the shower.  His crime against humanity – that would be my humanity – is to leave the bedroom door ajar.  Into the semi-darkness, they stalk.  Their mission?  To get me out of bed, downstairs, through the living room and into the kitchen,  where I can wait on them hand and paw (so to speak). 

 

William and Mac take to the tops of the dressers and begin to play smack down.  Smack-able objects are any and everything on those surfaces.   Their aim is unfailingly accurate and they know which objects to smack to greatest effect.   All of them.

Mieusette,  my long-haired beauty, fondly known as the elder-chick, tucks her paws in all around her and patiently waits for human movement.

 

After a couple of mornings of my scrambling around in response to the thumps and bangs of God-knows-what hitting the floor,  I get smart.  Now, when the alarm goes off, I almost instantaneously hiss,  “Close the door…!”

 

The theory being if they can’t get in, I don’t have to feed them. 

 

Clever boys that they are, they’ve learned to jimmy the door by clawing underneath the door jamb.  I listen as they noisily get to work.  There’s enough light in the room for me to see the door swing wide. 

 

Today, rather than make his accustomed jump to the top of the furniture,  Mac decides to wake up Jasper.  Before I realize what’s going on, all 160 pounds of one very wide awake Great Dane, is angling around the bed.  We play the, “Jasper, go lay down,” game for about 10 minutes before I give up.  Glancing at the clock, on the bedside table, I discover that I’ve bought myself an extra 15 minutes of  what might loosely be called sack time. 

Led by two smug cats, a delighted Tessa and determined Jasper, with Josephine ever hopeful and heeling beautifully as we crowd the stair well, we all head downstairs.  Mieusette awaits us on top of the kitchen stove.

 

The intricate dance of how I: get three dogs outside in the yard and back inside in under eight minutes, feed three cats while three dogs wait their turn,

make coffee, get Tessa to hold a site while I fix food for two of the three dogs (Jasper's going back to bed), escort Tessa back upstairs to be crated for a few more hours, and then head back to the kitchen to pour coffee for me, and then (finally), go back upstairs to my study,  to turn on the computer and start my day ... all in less than 15 minutes, is another post for another day. 

I’ll just bet that you can’t wait for that one.

 

 

 

 

Dog School - Week Three

Good intentions.  Pack up yummy treats: crunchy liver biscuits and fresh gourmet hot dogs cooked to a crispy crunch and then bagged about an hour before class.  Tuck bottle of calming flower essence spray into training bag along with paper towels, and plastic bags.  Anxiety wrap on.

Arrive 20 minutes early so that we can scope out the room and Tessa can get her bearings. Her nails scrabble across the tile hallway and she slides to a stop outside the doorway of the training room.  Wait outside in the hallway as the last couple of dogs from an earlier class make their exit.

Tessa's high-pitched yodel cuts the silence as she spies another dog at the far end of the hallway making its way towards us with its owner.  Tessa and I do an about face and heel into an alcove. Tessa gets liberally sprayed with calming flower essence, and, Gail invites us to come inside. 

We spend most of this class slightly outside of the training circle, doing some of the exercises, but mostly, we're doing our own thing.  Like this beautiful sit. See the exit sign up near the right corner of the photo?  I'm in the green shirt almost below it.  See that tiny, black blob that comes up to my knee? That's Tessa, holding a beautiful sit.

We did automatic sits, about turns and we did "Watch me!" a lot.  Finally, asking Tessa to hold a sit and then a long down was the best exercise we did today!  She was on "overwhelm" and asking her to participate in most of the regular class exercises would be asking too much.

Having her watch all of the other dogs while in a down worked beautifully. For the first time, she held that down and didn't growl once.  

Here's Pebbles, the puppy that Tessa and I were slightly behind (but still next to).   She's a young, very together, Golden Retriever.

Isn't she darling?

The "aha" moment today came during the final exercise:  the recall.  Tessa and I got to go first and, the other dogs with their owners spaced themselves around the training circle.  As I walked Tessa over to where Gail was standing, I looked at those dogs. I knew they were nicely tethered to their owners, and weren't going any place, but I wasn't sure about Tessa.

When the time came, would she come straight to me or would she veer off and go check out one of the dogs?  (Oh ye of little faith.)

I balked.  Leaving Tessa in a sit, I walked half-way across the room, turned and said to Gail, "I don't think Tessa will do this."  Wise woman that she is, Gail disagreed with me.  I walked back to Tessa, asked her to sit, showed her my treat, turned and walked all the way across the room, turned to face Tessa and silently counted to ten. 

Tessa! Come!  

Gail held the leash very loosely, and half-jogged with Tessa to the half-way point and Tessa did the rest.  We repeated this exercise a second time except that Gail released Tessa much earlier.  And, we were done.

Part of what I forgot was how to focus my energy and my intention and then to carry that down the leash.  

See how alert Tessa's ears are?  She's focused on where I am in relation to where she is. 

Isn't that darling?

Interlude - Walking Tessa

In my search to find places to walk Tessa without having to worry about other peoples' dogs, I took her to one of my favorite places last week.  Note to readers: this was before the temperature rose to 90 degrees. 

As she and I ambled, occasionally moving from loose leash to "let's add some heeling and about face heeling", I wrapped myself in the present moment and let the rest of the world run at its own pace without me.

The pastoral serenity became a restorative balm for both of us.  We kept to the wide roads out of respect for the "residents" and I whiled away the time by reading the names on the memorial plaques closest to the pavement.  

I have a vested interest in this place.  My grandparents and several of my friends are buried here.  It was an odd experience for me when I first started walking here. I wasn't used to the fact that people I knew were buried here. 

We buried my grandfather first. And, because my grandmother didn't drive, I would bring her to visit my grandfather.  We stayed long enough to pull the weeds away from his memorial marker and to leave flowers. 

That was 24 years ago.  Now, when I come, I visit with both of them.  And, when I walk with Tessa, I pay attention to the trees.  They are glorious!

Sometimes it's important to find a place that literally takes your breath away.  A place that pulls you in and leaves you spell bound. A place where words seems inadequate and who you are becomes insignificant.  Where nothing else needs to be said.

Dog School - Week Two

This time, we arrived half-an-hour before class.  No easy task since every village and town around us was out in force celebrating July 4th (one day early) with parades all starting at 10AM.  Our immediate goal was to navigate around streets that were starting to close down to regular traffic.

Our second goal was to walk Tessa into the multi-purpose room that was our training room when it was completely empty of other dogs.

OMG! We did it.

Tessa was wearing her anxiety vest. My treat bag will filled with specialty baked hot dog slices and tiny pieces of steak (left overs from Friday night's dinner).  Although, Tessa's very pronounced prey drive was in full operational mode, she was pretty low key walking in the doorway.

Gail saw the vest and gave us a thumbs up as we walked past her to a spot along the far wall of the room. In a series of email exchanges after last Saturday's class, Gail had commented that she didn't notice any aggressive behaviors in Tessa during that first class -- just a very overwhelmed small dog.  Such a relief to have my own observations about Tessa confirmed.  

However, knowing how awful that first class had been, I don't know if I can describe how I felt when I realized that Tessa was going to be okay.

We had a few minutes to get acclimated to the room before one more dog and her owner joined us.  Maggie is a puppy West Highland terrier that lives around the corner from us.  She waltzed in the door slightly ahead of her owner, Laurie. 

Like a lot of westies,  Maggie's very opinionated.  She's sweet and so wants to please Laurie, but she's also decisive in her outlook on life.  I'd missed out on watching her with Laurie on the first day of class because I'd been so caught up with Tessa.  This time, I was able to occasionally watch Maggie and Laura interact with each other, which, for me, is half the fun of coming to a dog obedience class. 

As the rest of the class came in (we number 9 dogs with handlers), the energy of the room picked up.  Although Tessa was very aware of each dog making its entrance, she didn't jump out of her skin.  She was able to remain fairly calm and focused ... on me and on what I had for her in that treat bag.

We started out with doggie-massage and quickly moved into the more formal structure of the class.  Each time that Gail asked something of the class overall, she'd tailor her request to accommodate Tessa's prey drive. 

Tessa wasn't the only dog that Gail was adjusting her agenda around.  There was a lovely Pomeranian in class that doesn't see clearly.  Mid-way through class, when we were doing recalls, Gail was able to create success in the completion of this exercise for both dog and owner.  It was quite a lovely thing to witness. 

As we moved through heeling exercises and about turns, it dawned on me that I could move the leash from the rings of Tessa's harness to the ring on her collar.  Last Saturday, Tessa's physical movements were so frenzied that the only safe way to manage her had been keeping her leash clipped to her harness.

Today's class ended with a series of long recalls.  Tessa went first and as she and I completed the second recall, we were dismissed. Handing Tessa's leash to my husband, Andy, I watched the two of them exit the door at the far end of the room. 

I settled in to watch the rest of the dogs finish this exercise.  I knew that Tessa and I still had a lot ahead of us, but we were so much farther along than when we first started.  Today's class had been a huge success.  Outside-the-box thinking on Gail's part was the key factor for this.  If she hadn't recommended we get an anxiety vest,  today's class would have been almost a carbon copy of last Saturday. 

Instead of dreading walking into next week's class,  I'm looking forward to it. 

Final comment:  One of my delights is to be a raving fan for people and/or products that I can enthusiastically recommend.  Just so you know, I will not benefit financially in any way from my over-the-moon-excitement about the anxiety wrap that I purchased for Tessa. I am so excited about this product that I almost feel as if I should make a public service announcement about its effectiveness.  

And, for the more astute reader, you'll note that "anxiety wrap" is the more correct wording for this product.

There are many web sites that feature this product, but, as I can also personally attest to the attentive customer service and follow-up of this company, please start your research with Pet Abbey.  You'll not be disappointed.  And, be sure to mention that Tessa referred you.