think. dream. inspire. lead.

It is funny how in recent years I find myself passing through Paris with increasing frequency. This time I am with Jacob as he does a week long course for his EMBA. While some things have changed, like we are staying in a conference hotel in the 14th, some things stay the same. This time, I am completely on my own. I’ve already seen the major sights but have no need to play tour guide to anyone. It is an awkward feeling to not have even a slow itinerary. I didn’t pack anything more than my food dictionary and a book on Paris gardens lent by my mother. No DK Eyewitness, Rough Guides, what have you. Just me, my iPhone with its Zuti Paris ‘09 app, my pocket map of Paris, and a Moleskin notebook with hastily scribbled notes from day to day.

Tuesday was my first free day. When we arrived Monday, we crashed and burned for the day with only a lingering walk through the 13th that evening. Mornings go slow. Jacob does not have class until 9 A.M. and we eat breakfast together in the hotel since it was included with our room. We’re staying at the Marriott Rive Gauche and I am suitably pleased with the comfort and quality of the hotel. I like the mood and style of the 13th & 14th Arr. It’s residential but it has wonderful and vibrant places like Place d’Italie and charming corners like Butte-aux-Cailles.

When I finally extracted myself from the hotel, I decided that I had two goals for the day. The first, I was determined to actually step inside Notre Dame on my fourth trip to Paris and, the second, I was going to get myself a Navigo Pass Decouverte to make using the Metro and bus a no brainer. The Navigo Pass was easy enough. There are quite a few photo booths in the larger stations. I got a sheet with five head shots on it and made sure I could cut them down a bit. Then, I went to a booth and requested the Navigo Pass Decouverte with an Carte Orange hebdo. No problem!

Notre Dame was slightly different. Since it’s October, there were no lines to get in and while crowded, it wasn’t stifling. Just a bit noisy and irreverent. Granted, I’m no longer Christian, but it’s still an active church, right? I titled my camera up to the stained glass windows, boggled at the ornate seats of the choir, then dashed off to see how bad the line was to hike to the top of the towers. Too long in time! While the line physically went no further than the gates into the grounds, I stood in the same spot for nearly 45 minutes without moving an inch. I considered ways to better spend my time and happily hopped out of line and made my way to BHV to see what was a la mode. Big chunky knits, if you’re wondering. Lots of stitch definition, bulky yarns, simple designs, oversized cowls. My knitting dream! And everything is in eggplant purple this year which sounds so much more appealing if you call it aubergine.

After exiting BHV, I headed back towards Ile St. Louis. My stomach was growling but I did not want to spoil dinner, so I grabbed an apple from the grocer and started licking windows, so to speak. Cacoa et Chocolat lost its appeal for me somewhere. Their chocolates looked dated and worn, the same when I was there three years ago. You expect a little change and novelty, it doesn’t have to be much, but something worthwhile to dream about! I think they added a red pepper flavored cocoa powder, but that’s about it. Heading east, I walked down to the far end of the island where it was quieter. I love that about Ile St. Louis. While the western side gets spill over from Notre Dame, once you pass the church, heading east, it all dies down into quiet and peacefulness.

I took a few more photos before heading into the 5th and stopping by The Rouvray, a quilt shop just off the quai on Rue Boucherie. I always forget they have few to no patterns which is a shame. But, they did have some new border fabrics from Provence and there was a 9 patch quilted top in muted shades that reminded me of the ochre surrounding Roussillon. Not being much of a quilter myself, I was off again along Boucherie towards Shakespeare & Company to see if I could find a copy of E.M. Forester’s A Room With a View. It is perhaps my favorite book to read while traveling and my copy is well worn with love. It epitomizes the idea of slow traveling and immersing oneself in the minute and local. Plus it’s a fantastic love story. Not to mention, the version of the movie with Helena Bonham Carter is fantastic and well-acted all around. But, I digress and to the point, Shakespeare failed me miserably by not having the book in any way shape or form.

Leaving Shakespeare & Company, I decided that my bruised heart need a passable citron crepe. I wandered about the edges of the 6th and was reminded how much of it I was not interested in expect perhaps the museums, d’Orsay and Cluny. I grabbed a crepe from a vendor in the oddest and cramped stall I’d seen yet. There were two people inside, back to back. I’m not even sure where the Coca’s came from beneath the counter, but it was like a magician’s box in there. One person handled all of the sandwiches and paninis while the other slaved over two crepe plates. Ushering myself quickly out of the 6th with sweet and acidic delight in hand, it was time to head back to the hotel and regroup for the evening.

In the evening, we dined at what has become an old favorite, Le Coude Fou (”The Crazy Elbow” for my English readers), a wine bar just on the lower edge of the Marais. It is a hole in the wall with maybe 15-20 tables at most and I think I’m being generous in my estimate. We learned last time that a reservation at 8:30 meant the last table and that was across from the kitchen. This time we reserved for 8:00 and had one of the few tables in the side room near the window. The food is standard and at the same time eclectic. The wine list is respectable and suitable for all palates. I started with a chevre chaud which was large enough for four people and Jacob not wanting to eat any at all. I decimated the bread basket and let Jacob nibble on my salad of greens that came along with it. The owner provides monthly special selections by the glass from his cellar. I requested the Bourgogne selection and Jacob went for the Cote du Rhone. After trading sips, I reluctantly handed back the Cote du Rhone which Jacob hid from me across the table. For the main course, Jacob had the tuna and I had the entrecote (”ribeye steak”). I was envious of what I saw of Jacob’s dinner and only made off with a taste as he protected it closely as well. The tuna was a bit overdone for my liking but he said it was tender all the same in a ginger and citron cream sauce. Still envious of the Cote du Rhone pinot noir at Jacob’s hand, I ordered a glass of my own. My entrecote was cut uneven so ranged from well to medium when what I had wanted to order was rare but I’d forgotten the word completely so defaulted to a point (”medium”). Certainly not the kitchen’s fault! There was a delicious sculpted pile of pureed potatoes that were that wonderful balance between cream and potatoes that just melts in your mouth. For dessert, the choices were more traditional. I had a creme caramel and I can’t even remember if Jacob had dessert.

Uneventfully, we walked back across the bridges and onto the RER B along the left bank, zipping back to Denfert Rocherau and a sound night’s sleep.

When Catherine de Medici kicked Diane de Poitier out of Chenonceau and over to Chateau de Chaumont, following Henri II’s death, the king’s mistress could have done much worse. Sitting at one of the highest points in the valley, the first castle was built there in the 11th C. by Eudes II, a count of Blois, to protect himself from the powerful counts of Anjou. The high point along the Loire would have been an excellent point to defend lands further east and Louis XI was not entirely out of place ordering the first castle razed to the ground after Pierre d’Amboise revolted against him. The lands west of Chaumont were tumultuously held during the best of times. He awarded the land and allowed a new castle to be built by the Governor of Ile de la Cite (Paris and extent of the French kingdom for the most part was confined to the region Ile de France at the time), Charles I d’Amboise. Finished by his son, Charles II d’Amboise de Chaumont, the castle still retained elements of its fortress past but was mostly restyled with renaissance charm for the castle and the grounds. Unfortunately, during her brief stay, Diane de Poitier did not find the grounds to her liking and moved on to her last residence further north at Chateau d'Anet.

But enough about history! Chaumont, today, has reinvented itself as a major center of the gardening world with an institute and annual festival each summer celebrating the combination of art and plants to create our own ideals of beauty in the outdoors. Inside the chateau, there is quite a bit of emphasis on Diane de Poitier’s time at the castle, though it was clearly the briefest. I would venture a guess that the period she lived there was harmonious to the presentation of the castle’s exterior and it does make for a pleasant visit through the restored rooms. As always, many of these castles have the hard choice of embracing a particular period though many of them were used and reused by private holders or the state for a variety of purposes.

The castle sits on the bluff high above the town of Chaumont and overlooks the Loire Valley with excellent views east, north, and west. Since it is summer, the international garden festival is in full swing. The castle is currently displaying an outdoor exposition of Art and Nature in the park. In particular, I was struck by the installations of Rainer Gross, Francois Mechain, Deidi von Schaewen, and the joint installation of Dimitri Xenakis and Maro Avrabou. As you enter the gardens from the lower entrance, you can see these cyclones of dark wood. Rainer Gross has fashioned them to be like the rooftops of the towers at Chaumont, but blown over across the grounds to symbolize the fragility of power and the constant change of the world. Francois Mechain’s installation is whimsical in the ladders that hang from various branches of a single tree on the grounds yet none ever reach the ground completely. Deidi von Schaewen presents large prints of her photos taken from all over the world of sacred trees made into small temples by cults. Xenakis and Avrabou play with gilded frames and plastic canvas to create paintings of light and color that shift with the changing of nature upon the grounds. The 14 total installations in the park are on display through 31 December 2009.

Inside the chateau, besides the well preserved interior chapel and rooms, are two installations that continue the theme of art and nature sharing the same space. I was introduce to the dynamic outdoor installations of Nils Udo through a photography exposition installed in the lower galleries. His installations embrace the movement of nature and its natural relationship with art. The Udo exposition is on display until 31 August 2009. Udo has an additional installation in the park entitled Gulliver’s Forest that plays with perspective in nature and gardens. The galleries upon each floor host in part a sculpture exposition installed by Jannis Kounellis that is unique and original at the commission of the Centre Region. It is Kounellis’ superb effort to capture the dynamic history of the chateau over time through a variety of sculptures that speak to all walks of life that have graced the chateau over time. Kounellis’ work is on display through Summer 2011.

The center piece of outdoor activities at Chaumont is its annual International Garden Festival. Artists are invited annually (and many return annually) to install gardens based upon a theme. This year’s theme is simply stated as Color. For some artists that turned into tackling presenting a true black in the garden when there is no truly black plant. For others, such as Voir Rouge it was a riotous and brutal tour de force in a single color. Perhaps my favorite was Ultra-Violet a multicolored garden that you explored first with your eyes, then were led through a blackout tunnel, and then viewed the garden anew through an installation of colored lenses. It was playful and whimsical while at the same time questioning of how we alter the view of the natural world. I would speak more of the gardens, but I hope that the photos in the gallery linked below allow the gardens to speak (even if through my camera’s lens) for themselves.

Chaumont seems to be a tidy corner of the valley that we pass through frequently. A Slow Travel friend who lives near St. Aignan, Ken, and his partner, Walt, were telling us how the grounds to the chateau used to be open and free to the public not that long ago. It has only been recently that they have moved the gates down to the street level and required admission at the upper entry gate. I could see where this is a ripple in local life! Such a beautiful area that was once left open to the public, now requiring a steep but worthwhile admission fee (15E/person in 2009), would leave a slightly bitter taste in my mouth as well.

During our last pass through Chaumont, at the advisement of our hosts, we took a moment to visit the town’s flea market. It was of a good size with a variety of vendors. I was not looking for any rare or prized deals, but did find four iron keys from the 18th century that I plan on using in some decor in the master bedroom when I get home. I did not use my brutish Beijing-learned bargaining skills, but I at least got myself a 25% discount for buying in bulk after a few minutes of dickering in French (and unfortunately English which didn’t help lower the price and emboldened the dealer).

Chaumont

We have arrived in Pontlevoy and are enjoying the escape to a rural French village. I am amazed at the ease of slipping into Pontlevoy’s daily life. The village residents are accustomed to Americans visiting as the Abbey is home to American university student groups. Some American financiers purchased the abbey some time ago and created relationships with large universities (Univ. of Mich., for example) to send exchange students to live on the grounds and take courses. But, the town’s history with American residents goes back much further to the period following WWII. Apparently there has been a small group of Americans living off and on in Pontlevoy since the war. A result of this is that many of the French residents are to varying extents bilingual French-English and usually know a third language. I find them exceedingly considerate when I bumble around between French and Spanish as I try to drop my English. At the same time, we have had many interesting discussions as a result that may not have occurred if the town was the slightest bit more monolingual.

Our arrival in Pontlevoy has been punctuated by an archeological brouhaha to which we are given center stage access. Only a block away from our home, utility workers were digging up the street in order to replace the sewer line. Residents, including our host, saw the work and noticed some strange things buried where the backhoe had already removed dirt. The square cross-sections of tuffa sarcophagi and broken bones said it all. The workers had disturbed what appears to be at least 11 tombs so far (final count was at least 17 with more rumored under the houses lining the streets). For the remainder of Saturday and all of Sunday, residents (including ourselves) have been seen going down to the dig site to peer at what was found. The previous find of tombs was in the 1950’s and uncovered over 40 Morvignian era tombs. There is already speculation that this new find could be from the same era and a continuation of the tombs found previously. Separated by a quarter mile, it is easy to imagine what may lie between the two grave sites.

The residents are certainly mixed about the find. Those with vacation related businesses on the street are upset that the work will now be stalled for months during the busy tourist season. Many other residents, including our hosts, think it is imperative that the remains be preserved and studied. As we stood over the remains, taking a few photographs, a woman came up to us and began a lively conversation about the find. As it turned out, she was madame presidente of the historical society, Nina. Nina, as it turns out, is good friends with our hosts. It appears that we will have an intimate view of the brouhaha as it plays out over the coming weeks.

After arriving in France on Saturday, it was necessary to kill some time prior to going to our rental in the afternoon. Since we had a car in the Ile de France region for once, we thought it would be a nice idea to finally visit Vaux le Vicomte which had been recommended many times to us.

Vaux le Vicomte is a chateau located south of Paris near Fontainebleau and rests upon the site of a previous and much more modest chateau that no longer exists. The new chateau was built by Nicolas Fouquet, a financier during the reign of Louis XIV. The chateau has beautiful manicured grounds and lovely exterior architecture. The owner, who keeps a private residence on the grounds, and the private historical foundation have restored many aspects of the chateau over the years.

From the parking area, you approach the chateau from the front gates which are flanked by interesting stone capitals with carved busts of human figures at their tops. I found it a unique and elaborate aspect that I had not seen at other chateaux. After passing through the admissions office, you enter the stables’ courtyard. For a minute one should pause and consider that with the multitude of doors on three sides (one of which was converted into a restaurant, the other two into a carriage museum) just how many horses, carriages, and livery staff where expected to visit the house of a financier. It is astounding.

I cannot say that I was as pleased with the tour of the interior as I was with walking the grounds. I did not expect perfection on the interior for even at the most famous of chateaux, Versailles, restoration is a never-ending battle against time’s ravages and the time to spare for restoration. But, I think it would be more accurate that while some of the rooms have been restored the focus of the chateau’s interior is as a museum to Fouquet, not representative of it’s original use. The house does home some original pieces (notably the red marble topped tables in the first room of the tour), interesting tapestries, and original paintings and sculpture upon the roof of the entrance room. Notably, the grande salle entry room which has vaulted ceilings and an oval shape was the envy of the valley as is attested in other chateaux such as Troussay which added its own oval grande salle to keep up appearances.

After the entrance room with it’s views across the gardens to the fountains and woods at the very back, the rest of the tour turn into a museum for the life of Fouquet. His story is interesting and some factoids are given about the state of France’s population and kings at the time. But, the mannequins look tired and worn. The video animations to animate the mannequins in scenes can be a bit creepy. And once you enter the tour, you are kept captive for the entire sequence. It is not long after entering the basement that the world becomes increasingly claustrophobic and the only thought becomes when will the torture of the visitors end.

During our visit, we saw no less than four couples visiting the grounds with their photographer following a wedding. It became sport deciding if it was a different bride, usually distinguished by what her groom or photographer were wearing. It could not have been a better day to take such memorable photographs on the grounds and perhaps they had the best idea of any visitor there that day. I would return to the grounds at Vaux le Vicomte with a good history book of the period rather than pay to tour the chateau again. While it was not immediately obvious to us while within the chateau, it is apparently possible to climb to the cupola upon the roof and view the grounds from above. I would strongly suggest taking the time to do so as the gardens, while pleasant from ground level, have elements that would be striking from the vantage point of the roof.

Our experience at Dulles was relatively smooth. The three o’clock international rush is a bit intimidating. It took us about 50 minutes to check in and another 40 minutes to clear security. Arriving at the gate for a slightly late departure left us with about 30 minutes to spare. The flight was quite full and as we were about to enter the takeoff queue, the pilot came on with a reserved voice that announced that we would be returning to the gate. The ground crew had gotten freight loading happy and freight needed to be unloaded before takeoff. I know this is exactly the sort of thing a pilot dreads at Dulles because getting a precious takeoff slot can be a matter of minutes during the evening international flight rush. But, that appeared to be the only hiccup for our flight and the pilot tried to make up for the delay by getting us to Paris in 7 hours flat.

I am always reminded how dated a modern design can look when arriving into Terminal 1 at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. Perhaps it is the color of the cement walls or that anything plastic has not been replaced since it opened in 1974. Not even cheery signs plastered along the walls or simply arriving in Paris can lift the mood that the somber, prison-like design inspires.

We were quite fortunate that in arriving nearly an hour late somehow meant one of the smoothest arrivals in Paris that I have ever experienced. After landing we were able to sweep through immigration and receiving our baggage in under an hour with the only other people being those from our own flight. Off to find the car rental counter, we ran into a “security incident” barrier merely steps from the Hertz counter. The area had been evacuated. Two army men, a police officer, and a security incident person stood what can only be described as nonchalantly across the hallway. I say nonchalantly because in addition to ourselves, many other travelers attempted to simply walk by them. This flustered the young army men who would then try to explain that, no you may not go this way. No, we cannot tell you what it is about. Then, they would turn to each other and aloud wonder why everyone kept trying to pass them. I had a few theories, but wasn’t going to elaborate directly to the army men. Let us just say that when you hold an automatic rifle like it is a glass of wine while you talk up and joke with your buddy the police officer, it sets a mood of casual affairs that clearly the crowd picked up on.

I find car rentals in any country (including my own!) quite frustrating. Even with Hertz’s top status thanks to Jacob’s mad travel schedule, we still didn’t end up with the car we reserved. I would love to know if anyone ever ends up with exactly the car that they have reserved in advance. I had been looking forward to driving the relatively new Peugot 308 HDI diesel hybrid which is in Hertz’s green collection. Instead, I was given the Peugot 307 which I think should only marginally qualify as a green car. Certainly it is diesel and diesel is much cleaner in Europe than it is in America, but it still lacks any hybrid component. As I dickered with the agent at the counter about the lack of a 308, my choices became a Mercedes A class or the 307. All six feet of me with my mother and three pieces of baggage had a good laugh about the prospect of the A class before snatching up the 308 keys and heading downstairs to the parking area.

Now, again, one really questions the dismal design of Terminal 1 then the ways in which people design its usage. I appreciated the ease it took to get from the rental counter to the parking space. I did not appreciate that the hatchback was back into a space guarded by concrete struts. While I ducked going in, I failed to duck going out and now have a sizable goose egg on my noggin and a bruise on my bum from my own stupidity. I am simply happy that I did not end up with a concussion.

Since it was still quite early, I was able to smack the GPS onto the windshield and head out of the airport with very little traffic. Nearly all of the traffic we saw was heading into the airport, instead. It was a bit grey with stormy weather blowing through but not enough to keep us from stopping by Vaux le Vicomte as planned.

When I am considering a stay abroad, I always think of renting an apartment or home when it is possible. I can choose the neighborhood or town that I want to stay in and I have many of the creatures comforts that I would enjoy at home. While they may be popular locations, often they are quieter residential areas that are well served by local merchants compared to the strings of hotels along the busy tourist/business avenues. The best part is the money I save and the value I get over staying in a hotel. I personally do no need the concierge or maid service of a hotel, so making my own plans and cleaning up after myself isn’t such a chore.

Above all other matters when staying in France or other popular vacation destinations, expect to book your rental approximately 9 months in advance to secure the property of your dreams. This is especially true if you are traveling from June – August in summer vacation destinations such as the Loire Valley and Provence.

If I am considering a rental anywhere in the world, my first stop is always Vacation Rentals By Owner (VRBO). The listings on the site are direct from the owner, cover a wide geographic area, and have selections in many price points. But, how do you know that the listing represents the reality of the property? Slowtalk (the community travel discussion board for Slow Travel) has this conversation about Vacation Rental Website Warning Signs from early last year. There is fantastic advice about the types of questions to ask and what to expect from individual or agency run websites presenting properties.

Then, there is always what previous renters think. Don’t hesitate to ask for letters of reference! VRBO has a guestbook feature that the owners can choose to activate. Others post recommendations from previous renters directly on their website. Websites like Slow Travel have extensive reviews by experienced rental travelers and classified listings from reputable participants on their discussion boards.

As I considered where to stay in the Loire Valley, I first drew a mental triangle from Chartres to Orleans to Tours. This triangle captures a significant portion of the western Loire Valley region and make most sites within 1-2 hours driving. I then began to consider staying in a town vs. a village. A town provides more services and potentially has a train station for easy access. Since we would be renting a car for our stay and our goal was to get away from it all, I decided that a rural village was our best choice. With that knowledge in hand, I started to look at VRBO for likely rentals.

At VRBO, I require that the listing has a few key elements for me to even consider the rental.

• There must be a link to the owner’s website for the property that provides more detailed information about the property.
• The listing must have at least three good photos that include one of the living area, bedroom area, and kitchen
• Specific and current rate details
• Exhaustive list of amenities
• Accurate availability calendar (if an established property, availability calendar should reflect stays of other guests and recently updated)
• Accurate phone number and email contact for the owners

After an exhaustive VRBO search, as well on Google, and looking at what felt like hundreds of rental properties the matter was settled. I decided upon Les Souliers Enchantées in Pontlevoy, France. Their VRBO listing and the property website provide a detailed and current view of the property and its availability. Since I booked the property in September 2008, the owner has happily and promptly answered any and all of my communications. Working with Les Souliers Enchantées has been a pleasure and added to the pleasant anticipation for this vacation.

In less than two weeks, I will be jetting off again to France. This time, my mother and I will live for two weeks in Pontlevoy, France, in the heart of the Loire Valley region. It was nearly 18 months ago, only just back from our trip to Paris, that we began to scheme about what to do next in France. We wanted some place removed from the bustle of the city, temperate weather during the early summer months, and full of opportunities to roam the French countryside.

Last year as we prepared our trip to Provence, I posted a series about preparing to travel abroad that included Packing Clothes for Your Trip to Europe and Makeup Travel Tips for the Everyday Girl. They are two of the most popular articles visited at our blog. Much of the advice is relevant regardless of the destination and I read over them as I thought about my plans for the Loire Valley. The entire series also includes:

• Travel Books: Provence — The Books for Planning
• Vacation Rentals: Provence — A Place to Stay
• Internet Travel Communities: Provence — Community Websites and Message Boards
• Personal Care: Essential Beauty Tips Before You Travel
• Financial: How to Use American Credit and ATM Cards in France

As I prepare for yet another extended stay in France, I will be posting a series specific to the Loire Valley and providing fresh advice about books, rentals, internet resources, and technology that has made the planning all the easier.

Axel and Abbey’s favorite game to play with me is hide and seek. Usually, Jacob will hold them in the family room and I will sneak off to the darkness of the front room to hide somewhere. They turn to catch a peek, they strain at their collar, and they chuff with excitement. When I call “find me!”, there is a thunderous flurry of paws as they race to the front of the house. They start visually searching, try to find me in some of my usual places, and eventually turn to their noses which never fail to find me in even the most clever place. I pick a spot where I can watch them search. They will often start out separately, but as the task becomes more difficult, they will pack up with Axel in the lead and Abbey following. Abbey’s pretty smart to follow Axel — he’s a pro at this game and generally finds me first. She knows she gets the same amount of praise whether she’s leading the search or providing support. For both of them, the hunt is the exciting part, the praise and love when they find me is just as rewarding.

It is an exhilarating time that ends in lots of tail wags and smiles from the dogs along with copious giggles from me. I remember the first time I asked Jacob to switch roles — I would hold the dogs while he went to hide. I wanted him to have as much fun as I was having with the hounds. He joyfully went to the front of the house, hid in plain sight, and called “find me!”. The dogs had watched him leave the room and when I released the hounds, they just stood there by my side. He called out again, “Find me!” The hounds looked in his direction even took a step, but then looked back at me. Eventually, I cued them with “Let’s go find Jacob!” and they took off at my heels to go find him. If I stopped anywhere in between, they were right there with me. We’re continuing to work on their recall to Jacob but it is one of their most difficult training tasks as it has everything to do with our group dynamic.

Pet owners disagree on a lot of things with a vehemence that one wishes someone had shown when Hitler annexed Austria. Greyhound owners foam at the mouth about small dogs on inappropriately used flexi-leads. In turn, greyhound owners are often the object of public criticism that our dogs are too skinny. The love that we share for our companions can easily turn into passionate displays of chest-thumping, superiority seeking behavior intended to keep the rest of our audience in frightful awe. Don’t kid yourself. When you sarcastically dismiss someone on a message board (or start a flame war), you’re engaging in a primal display of dominance. When you feel it is necessary to charge up to a complete stranger in a pet store to preach your truth and chastise them for their perceived wrong, you’re engaging in a primal display of dominance. You’re right and the silly, misguided, and downright stupid other person that you just rained judgment down upon should listen to you because you’re under the impression you’re better suited to lead the rest of us.

Thank goodness one of the things that makes us uniquely human is the ability to collaborate with others, even when we come from opposite points of view. And even better, we are highly adaptable creatures when presented with new knowledge. Unfortunately, we get caught up in semantics and our brains get stuck in loops. Alpha has become entrenched in the popular pet psychology as equal to dominance theory and worthy of public ridicule should an owner even utter the word alpha or try to determine the group dynamic order in their home. McConnell discusses the concept of pack dynamics quite a bit in all of her books. I think that she is one of the few animal behaviorists in the modern day that has tried to uniquely answer how do humans and their canine companions coexist as a group unit. McConnell reminds us that in her early days she was alpha-rolling her dogs with the best of them and listening to the wisdom of the Monks of New Skete. Between the lines, she reminds us that we all start somewhere on a neverending journey to somewhere better. Today, and with each new day, we have unprecedented access to the knowledge of behaviorists and animal trainers the world over.

I’m not a dog and my dogs are by no means humans. I don’t call them fur kids and I don’t compare them to kids. They are creatures who deserve to be themselves. At the same time, the dogs and humans in my house need to figure out how to coexist together. Alpha, beta, and omega are terms used in scientific, anthropological research to describe the relationships between creatures of the same species. Of the humans in the house, I am the alpha by and far. I take the reins and steer the direction we go regularly. Jacob (when at home, only, mind you) is an omega. He could often care less what we’re doing and is happy to tag along. Does it always work that way? Of course not! Jacob has free will and some days I just want to follow someone else’s lead. If you saw Jacob at work and only work, you’d peg him as an alpha hands down. It surprises me all the time how he shifts from leader to follower. The same thing goes for our hounds.

For many months after he arrived at our home, Jacob and I could not hug without Axel nosing between us. He will freeze and plant himself on walks if Jacob doesn’t do exactly what Axel wants him to do. At meet and greets, if Abbey gets attention, Axel will shove himself between the person and Abbey to get a bit of attention himself. He will do it at home if he thinks there is a treat coming Abbey’s way and not his.  I’m not sure I can remember a time that Axel hasn’t vied for the top of the totem pole. He just seems to know better than to out and out take it.

Abbey gets a happy hook in her tail and bounces along following nearly any of us. Axel finds the mischief and Abbey endorses the fun. She will drop a toy for Axel if he wants it. She will recede slightly when he noses in for affection from someone petting her. She curls up in his crate with him when she gets the chance and snuggles up near him on the floor. Abbey has a strong idea of what makes up her pack. If I make the slightest move, she will be the first to pick up and find out where I went.

Axel is my roaring beta and Abbey is my docile omega. When they interact together, Abbey never complains about Axel horning in on her treats or fun. They happily share food and toys between each other. The most I have ever heard out of Abbey or Axel is a growl of surprise when one clocks the other with a paw in the head during their sleep. Within five minutes of Abbey arriving at our home as a foster, Axel was happy with her. He didn’t try to challenge her or tell her where her place was in the order. He sniffed her and turned to walk back into the house. Abbey got in a brief sniff then was off to follow Axel inside her new home. They knew before Jacob and I that they were a special match, a content dyad. It is not always easy bringing together two dogs that have been raised apart from each other. I have many friends and neighbors who go at great lengths to keeping rules and routines that keep their hounds playing nice together. It might include separate walks, sleeping arrangements, or feedings.

Plain and simple, we lucked out with Axel and Abbey. As I continue to write about them as individual dogs, I will also be writing about them as fits their roles in relationship to each other and to the humans and other dogs that they encounter. It is easier to use alpha, beta, omega to sum up certain qualities, but it is by no means the only way to describe our complex relationships with our canine companions.

This morning was like many other mornings. The hounds where sphinxing in the dining room while I prepared their meals, attentive to my every move. Axel was downright stoic as he waited for me to finish. He started this routine nearly a year ago, now. Abbey has only been doing it for a few weeks. Waiting for food, to my hounds, is one of the most difficult tasks imaginable yet the most rewarding. You can see them quiver with the anticipation, waiting to hear the release command or their name that calls them to come eat. Never have I cut up a chicken more slowly than this morning, though. One of the house rules is no hounds in the kitchen. Every time I walked towards the cutting board, Abbey would stand up and try to approach. We developed a dance of sorts which did not amuse Axel at all. Abbey would approach, I would put down the knife, then I would gently, determinedly remind Abbey to go lay down next to Axel. I stopped counting after two times and just dug in my heels. We were going to make this work and I was going to give Abbey my undivided attention in this task. Cutting up a chicken with my favorite knife should take less than five minutes. This morning we spent twenty excruciating minutes of me working on the chicken then me working with Abbey, back and forth, back and forth.

How many times have we heard “Patience is a virtue” chirped at us by a well-meaning soul? More likely than not we then ran off to our next task perhaps even before finishing the first. I think that for many, many people, feeding your canine companion is one of those many chores discharged hastily and thoughtlessly. A healthy dog generally inhales their meal, after all. I think that it has become this self-feeding cycle of behavior that is at the very least a missed opportunity and at its very worst a recipe for disaster. We serve it hastily and without much ceremony, so our companion gobbles it up quickly. Our rapid pace and lack of attention during the routine can create an unnecessary sense of urgency that feeds anxious behavior such as resource guarding. Resource guarding is a serious issue that can potentially lead to anxiety-aggression if ignored. A healthy relationship with your canine companion should have you as the source of shared resources, not the holder of resources that need to be taken away at the first opportunity.

“Twenty excruciating minutes” — even I complain about a process taking up 1% of my day. One percent! And it’s only 2% if you take into consideration only the time that I am awake. This inconvenient and untimely training cost us our morning two mile walk, I justified. The truth is that when I thought about it at the end, feeding the hounds always takes twenty minutes. We just get to spend it differently. A friend was recently telling me of her feeding routine. She feeds each of her three hounds by hand, one at a time. During that time she slowly feeds bit by bit and makes a point to constantly touch the hound she is feeding. The other waiting hounds are on their beds resting until they are called over for their turn to eat their meal. Her reasoning was fantastic. One, it made her slow down and spend time with each of her hounds individually. Also, she could set a reasonable pace that did not cause anxiety over the availability of resources. Then, she incorporates the touching so her hounds do not become defensive if she needs to reach in and take something from their mouths. Finally, they all learn patience and are rewarded heftily for it.

Irene is a Greyhound Welfare foster that I was dogsitting over the weekend. She appeared to have some resource guarding issues when in her crate and eating. In particular, she would growl and bark at Axel if he came within even a few feet of her. I decided to give her a challenge. I brought Axel and Abbey to sit beside her crate, within a few inches. Irene sat in her crate and watched, no growling or barking, attentive to me for the most part. I then began to treat the three of them for sitting together. Even with the treats out, no barking or growling came from Irene as she did everything she could to impress me. Pleasantly surprised, I decided to try making meal time more of a challenge for the foster girl. First, we worked on ‘crate’ as a command. Holding her bowl, I would only feed her a bite of food when she entered her crate. She would hop in and out at first with the excitement of meal time, then you could see the lights turn on behind her eyes. After the fifth time, she would stay in the crate longer, anticipating that I would give her a bite. With only a little bit of her food left, I decided challenge her even further. Leaving her door open, I brought Axel over to sit outside of her crate. I proceeded to feed Irene the rest of her meal bit by bit, occasionally giving some to Axel. Again, Irene was perfectly happy to share food with Axel. I was just confident enough that she was not going to be threatened by Axel’s presence that I set the bowl down just inside the door to her crate. She and Axel licked the bowl clean together then got on with their lives. Not more than fifteen minutes passed during the meal.

Irene is a sweet and smart little girl. Her personality is complex, just like any other canine or even our own. While there is often no simple solution or simple behavior, it is amazing the clarity that we can be rewarded with when we decided to give our companions even just 1% of our day in purposeful attention. Then, when we commit to that same amount of time, patiently and consistently — daily — the opportunity for reflection can become profound. As I have mentioned before, true resource aggression is a serious problem that can lead to injuries of ourselves and our companions if handled improperly. It was only after observing Irene at feeding times for the entire weekend that I made the choice to bring in Axel to help her. My observations of Irene led me to believe that she was anxious about Axel’s presence more so than aggressive about protecting her food from him. As always, Axel impresses me with how he can go from big and goofy to serious and working mode in a heartbeat. I’m not sure if it is me giving off those signals or if it is the dog we’re working with that tells him to shape up, but I’ll certainly be thinking about it in the future!

It never fails. We will be volunteering by visiting one of Greyhound Welfare’s many open houses in the D.C. metro area and Axel will turn to smile at me. Someone will be stroking the top of his head, but more than likely, they have found that special spot along his throat that makes him just ecstatic to be a dog loved by so many humans. When it starts, he will stretch his neck upwards, close his eyes, and his tail will begin to wag to beat the band. The expression is priceless. But that doesn’t seem to be enough. He will turn his head towards me, his mouth will open, and his tongue will fall out. His eyes are amber puddles of happiness and I, in turn, reflexively return his smile. On cue, I tell Axel, “Yes, I know they love you. Everyone loves you.” The visitors usually laugh, but I know it’s the truth. Axel has this ability to draw humans toward him almost effortlessly, even those who tend to be hesitant around dogs or large breeds.

Axel Foley is quite the name to live up to and Axel tries his best. I always say that his breeder pegged his personality from the moment he was whelped.

When I think of adjectives to describe Axel’s personality in public with strangers, the first word is always gregarious closely followed by egomaniacal. I think of it as Axel was made for the red carpet of greyhound rescue. This boy is the king of cool confidence. He’ll gladly spend the entire two hours of an open house allowing people to pet him, children hang on him, and making it his personal mission to greet every dog that stops by. But, really, it’s not just at open houses. We can be walking our neighborhood, visiting a shopping area, or on a hike in the wilderness. Axel draws people to him no matter where we go together. He loves human attention and the treats, ear rubs, neck rubs, and butt rubs that come with it.

Axel has this gentle way of stepping into a human’s space that is as disarming and inviting as it is self-serving. I say that he’s a secret leaner. He won’t lean into you like other greyhounds do, the full force of their body enough to knock you over. He will stand a pace off as he assesses you, then will side step in and gently make contact with your legs. It is quick and subtle, but in my book it is still a lean. It also isn’t all unlike how dogs will approach each other off center when they are comfortable with each other. If you don’t get the subtle hint, though, he then gently pushes his head under your head. It’s demanding but gentle and incredibly clever on Axel’s part. He hasn’t jumped on you or pushed you over. He just is a poor dog craving your gentle, loving attention. You would think he was starved for attention and I will admit that he would take mine all day if he thought he could get it freely.