What's up with the weather? It seems like it was just a few weeks ago that it was November 12th and we had our first snow. And wasn't it just April 6th...our last snow? If my math is right, that's almost five months of winter here in Northeast Ohio. If that wasn't the longest Winter in Cleveland history, it has to be in the top three. Where's all this global warming we keep hearing about? Oh ya, it's called SUMMER!
Anyway, the warm weather is finally here (OK, so it frosted last night, sue me). With warm weather comes increased activity levels and increased demands on our pooches (and us). Remember, our dogs can't pick up the tin cup and bang the crate bars. They need us to remember to keep the water bowl full. Treats are great...belly rubs are wonderful...nothing beats a good scratch behind the ears...except a nice clean drink of H2O.
Let's get out there folks. Off to the beach. Over to the Dog Park. It's frisbee season at the playground, so get out there and have fun with Mans-best-friend. After that game of catch or that jog through the Metro Park and you're enjoying a cold beverage (I'm not implying anything here), don't forget to give you four-legged friend his or her big gulp too!
Now...where did I stash those shorts and sandels back before that last ice age????
Monday, May 18, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
PAUL NEWMAN DIED...
THE DAY PAUL NEWMAN DIED
As most of you know, veteran stage and screen star (and notable racecar driver) Paul Newman passed away. His life and times were well reported, as they should have been. By all accounts Mr. Newman was a good man, husband and citizen. He stayed out of trouble, stayed married to the same woman and created charities that bear his name. Something else happened that day...I just thought it was important that you know...
You're an 18 or 19 year old kid. You're critically wounded, and dying in the jungle in the Ia Drang Valley. It's November-14-1965, LZ Xray, Vietnam .
Your infantry unit is outnumbered 8 to 1, and the enemy fire is so intense, from 100 or 200 yards away, that your own Infantry Commander has ordered the MediVac helicopters to stop coming in . You're lying there, listening to the enemy machine guns, and you know you're not getting out.
Your family is half-way around the world, 12,000 miles away, and you'll never see them again. As the world starts to fade in and out, you know this is the day. Then, over the machine gun noise, you faintly hear the sound of a helicopter, and you look up to see an un-armed Huey.
But it doesn't seem real, because no Medi-Vac markings are on it. Ed Freeman is coming for you. He's not Medi-Vac, so it's not his job, but he's flying his Huey down into the machine gun fire, after the Medi-Vacs were ordered not to come. He's coming anyway. And he drops it in, and sits there in the machine gun fire, as they load 2 or 3 of you on board. Then he flies you up and out through the gunfire to the doctors and nurses...and he kept coming back.
13 more times. He took about 30 of you and your buddies out, guys who would never have gotten out. Medal of Honor Recipient Ed Freeman died on a Wednesday, at the age of 80, in Boise, ID. (Oh ya, Paul Newman died that day too. I guess you knew that. He got a lot more press than Ed Freeman.)
With everything that is happening in the world, and the superficial nature of our news media, I just wanted a few more people to know about the Ed Freemans of the world...
As most of you know, veteran stage and screen star (and notable racecar driver) Paul Newman passed away. His life and times were well reported, as they should have been. By all accounts Mr. Newman was a good man, husband and citizen. He stayed out of trouble, stayed married to the same woman and created charities that bear his name. Something else happened that day...I just thought it was important that you know...
You're an 18 or 19 year old kid. You're critically wounded, and dying in the jungle in the Ia Drang Valley. It's November-14-1965, LZ Xray, Vietnam .
Your infantry unit is outnumbered 8 to 1, and the enemy fire is so intense, from 100 or 200 yards away, that your own Infantry Commander has ordered the MediVac helicopters to stop coming in . You're lying there, listening to the enemy machine guns, and you know you're not getting out.
Your family is half-way around the world, 12,000 miles away, and you'll never see them again. As the world starts to fade in and out, you know this is the day. Then, over the machine gun noise, you faintly hear the sound of a helicopter, and you look up to see an un-armed Huey.
But it doesn't seem real, because no Medi-Vac markings are on it. Ed Freeman is coming for you. He's not Medi-Vac, so it's not his job, but he's flying his Huey down into the machine gun fire, after the Medi-Vacs were ordered not to come. He's coming anyway. And he drops it in, and sits there in the machine gun fire, as they load 2 or 3 of you on board. Then he flies you up and out through the gunfire to the doctors and nurses...and he kept coming back.
13 more times. He took about 30 of you and your buddies out, guys who would never have gotten out. Medal of Honor Recipient Ed Freeman died on a Wednesday, at the age of 80, in Boise, ID. (Oh ya, Paul Newman died that day too. I guess you knew that. He got a lot more press than Ed Freeman.)
With everything that is happening in the world, and the superficial nature of our news media, I just wanted a few more people to know about the Ed Freemans of the world...
Monday, April 20, 2009
Tassel and Morterboard
Great news...our little Lola is smart! (that may be tha last time you ever read those words).
Lola graduated from Gestapo School.
Sit. Stay. Heel. Leave it! Good girl.
It looks like Lola will be going on to intermediate obedience. We would like to get her the Canine Good Citizen confirmation. Who knows, maybe she can become our second "working" dog. Lola is affectionate and very "kissy". She seems to love strangers and certainly likes being the center-of-attention.
First things first, she needs to pass second grade. Then I guess we'll see how she does. We don't want to force her into any situation she isn't ready for. If she ends up just hanging around the house making goober bombs, that's OK with us. Every house needs a 100 pound lapdog, or not.
Thanks to Barb at Happy Tails, Lola is a more confident, better socialized and hopefully happier pup. Lola is smart...who knew?
Lola graduated from Gestapo School.
Sit. Stay. Heel. Leave it! Good girl.
It looks like Lola will be going on to intermediate obedience. We would like to get her the Canine Good Citizen confirmation. Who knows, maybe she can become our second "working" dog. Lola is affectionate and very "kissy". She seems to love strangers and certainly likes being the center-of-attention.
First things first, she needs to pass second grade. Then I guess we'll see how she does. We don't want to force her into any situation she isn't ready for. If she ends up just hanging around the house making goober bombs, that's OK with us. Every house needs a 100 pound lapdog, or not.
Thanks to Barb at Happy Tails, Lola is a more confident, better socialized and hopefully happier pup. Lola is smart...who knew?
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The loss of a friend...
Feel free to skip this one if you want. There is pain here. Chances are you've felt it. Knife to the belly pain. Can't breath pain. Curl-up in a little ball pain. I hate this part.
We lost Cocoa. Cancer took her. Rotten son-of-a-bitch. I hate that word. Cancer.
Why do we feel this much pain for a dog? Seriously. It's a dog. Four legs, a bottomless pit for a stomach. Slobber. With Bullys, lots of slobber. Think of the expense. We pay to get them. We pay to feed them. Vet bills. Chew toys. Crates. Blankets. Leashes. Every year another licence. What do we get? What do they give us?
Everything.
Everything they've got. The food, the toys, the walks...it's all gravy to them. They get us. It's all they want. They get food, toys and walks. We get everything they have. That's why it hurts. That's the knife in the gut. That's why it hurts. Everything...man.
My brother once told me..." better to take them one day too early than one day too late".
Intellectually I understood what it meant. One day early means no suffering. One day late...
Intellectual understanding does not mean emotional rationality. We waited a day too long with Mags. She was our first loss. We didn't KNOW. She was hurting and she needed us to make it stop. Sorry Mags. We didn't know. It kills me to say this, but I waited one day too long with Rylee as well. Not because I didn't care. I couldn't separate myself. It was my call and I blew it. Rylee was so full of love I know she forgave me. I didn't deserve it.
Hopefully we got it right with Cocoa. Letting her go was our last act of love. She was a really sweet and gentle dog. She deserved to go out with dignety. I hope we gave her that. If ever a dog deserved a graceful exit, it was Cocoa. Goodbye Cokie.
Owning a pet is a responsibility unlike anything I have done before. We aren't parents, so these really are our "kids". They live such relatively short lives that it is important that we get it all right. Cradle to grave. Their end should be just as important to us as the beginning and the middle. I'm not preaching, honest. Imploring is more like it. It was a hard lesson to learn. Dear friends suffered. Not because we didn't care, but because we did. We will lose other canine friends. I hope we can give them all the exit they deserve.
Did we do Ok, Cocoa? I hope so...
We lost Cocoa. Cancer took her. Rotten son-of-a-bitch. I hate that word. Cancer.
Why do we feel this much pain for a dog? Seriously. It's a dog. Four legs, a bottomless pit for a stomach. Slobber. With Bullys, lots of slobber. Think of the expense. We pay to get them. We pay to feed them. Vet bills. Chew toys. Crates. Blankets. Leashes. Every year another licence. What do we get? What do they give us?
Everything.
Everything they've got. The food, the toys, the walks...it's all gravy to them. They get us. It's all they want. They get food, toys and walks. We get everything they have. That's why it hurts. That's the knife in the gut. That's why it hurts. Everything...man.
My brother once told me..." better to take them one day too early than one day too late".
Intellectually I understood what it meant. One day early means no suffering. One day late...
Intellectual understanding does not mean emotional rationality. We waited a day too long with Mags. She was our first loss. We didn't KNOW. She was hurting and she needed us to make it stop. Sorry Mags. We didn't know. It kills me to say this, but I waited one day too long with Rylee as well. Not because I didn't care. I couldn't separate myself. It was my call and I blew it. Rylee was so full of love I know she forgave me. I didn't deserve it.
Hopefully we got it right with Cocoa. Letting her go was our last act of love. She was a really sweet and gentle dog. She deserved to go out with dignety. I hope we gave her that. If ever a dog deserved a graceful exit, it was Cocoa. Goodbye Cokie.
Owning a pet is a responsibility unlike anything I have done before. We aren't parents, so these really are our "kids". They live such relatively short lives that it is important that we get it all right. Cradle to grave. Their end should be just as important to us as the beginning and the middle. I'm not preaching, honest. Imploring is more like it. It was a hard lesson to learn. Dear friends suffered. Not because we didn't care, but because we did. We will lose other canine friends. I hope we can give them all the exit they deserve.
Did we do Ok, Cocoa? I hope so...
Friday, March 27, 2009
Gestapo School 4.0 and the dirty-trick
I can't believe it's been seven weeks between posts.
Slacker.
The time between early February and late March has not been idle time. Work has been a bear...but I won't bore you. Winter has been interminable...but again, I won't bore you. Lola has been a blur. She is in constant motion. Not always with a purpose, but certainly with gusto. She may not know what she's doing, but she does it full-tilt. To steal a phrase...she may be lost, but she's makin' good time!
Lola has completed her 5th week of obedience training. She's really doing quite well. Now that the thermometer is reading consistently above freezing, she (and we) can spend some quality time outside. She seems to pick things up pretty quickly. Her mental train leave the tracks quite a bit, but she responds to corrections pretty well. That is, after she was introduced the Mr. Pinch Collar in week two. Don't start! Pinch collars are not cruel. We don't sharpen the prongs on the grinding wheel. Pinch collars work. Period. If you are a staunch anti-pinch collar type, let me ask one simple question...What do mother dogs do to unruly pups? She nips them. Not a bite. Not a flesh-ripping attack. A simple nip tells the pup that it did something Mom did not like. It usually doesn't take more than a nip or two. The same holds true of the pinch collar. A few quick tugs and a "yip" or two usually send the message that "Mom" or "Dad" at the end of the leash was not happy.
Back to little Lola. She has grown a bit. She was 56 pounds last Saturday, probably a few pounds heavier this week. We received a couple of pictures of her brother (now living happily in Indiana). He is a BIG boy...75 pounds worth. At eight weeks he was smaller than Lola, not any more!
Today is a really important day in young Lola's life. She gets spayed today (the "dirty trick). Ready for the "preachy" part? Here goes...get your pet dog or cat spayed or neutered. Sooner rather than later. Remember, Lola was rescued. How irresponsible would it be for us as rescue owners to allow for the chance of even more unwanted puppies to come into a world with too many already? Is it uncomfortable for your dog? Yes. Is it messy and a chore for you? Yes. Is it the responsible thing to do? Absolutely. And your dog will forgive you. They always do. As for Neutering...we've never had a boy dog, so that hasn't been an issue, but it has to be easier and much less invasive than spaying. If the "emasculation" issue is the problem, grow up. Go back to post #1 and read the "dog as Viagra" section again. If you think you are tougher, cooler or sexier because your dog has a full ball-sack, you are a sad excuse for a man to start with. Well...I certainly feel better, how 'bout you?!
I have no intention of waiting seven more weeks before a I post again, so hopefully someone is still out there reading this stuff. If not, it still relieves some of the pressure in this over-stuffed melon of mine. Face it, I'm a gas-bag.
Thanks for staying with me...more soon.
Slacker.
The time between early February and late March has not been idle time. Work has been a bear...but I won't bore you. Winter has been interminable...but again, I won't bore you. Lola has been a blur. She is in constant motion. Not always with a purpose, but certainly with gusto. She may not know what she's doing, but she does it full-tilt. To steal a phrase...she may be lost, but she's makin' good time!
Lola has completed her 5th week of obedience training. She's really doing quite well. Now that the thermometer is reading consistently above freezing, she (and we) can spend some quality time outside. She seems to pick things up pretty quickly. Her mental train leave the tracks quite a bit, but she responds to corrections pretty well. That is, after she was introduced the Mr. Pinch Collar in week two. Don't start! Pinch collars are not cruel. We don't sharpen the prongs on the grinding wheel. Pinch collars work. Period. If you are a staunch anti-pinch collar type, let me ask one simple question...What do mother dogs do to unruly pups? She nips them. Not a bite. Not a flesh-ripping attack. A simple nip tells the pup that it did something Mom did not like. It usually doesn't take more than a nip or two. The same holds true of the pinch collar. A few quick tugs and a "yip" or two usually send the message that "Mom" or "Dad" at the end of the leash was not happy.
Back to little Lola. She has grown a bit. She was 56 pounds last Saturday, probably a few pounds heavier this week. We received a couple of pictures of her brother (now living happily in Indiana). He is a BIG boy...75 pounds worth. At eight weeks he was smaller than Lola, not any more!
Today is a really important day in young Lola's life. She gets spayed today (the "dirty trick). Ready for the "preachy" part? Here goes...get your pet dog or cat spayed or neutered. Sooner rather than later. Remember, Lola was rescued. How irresponsible would it be for us as rescue owners to allow for the chance of even more unwanted puppies to come into a world with too many already? Is it uncomfortable for your dog? Yes. Is it messy and a chore for you? Yes. Is it the responsible thing to do? Absolutely. And your dog will forgive you. They always do. As for Neutering...we've never had a boy dog, so that hasn't been an issue, but it has to be easier and much less invasive than spaying. If the "emasculation" issue is the problem, grow up. Go back to post #1 and read the "dog as Viagra" section again. If you think you are tougher, cooler or sexier because your dog has a full ball-sack, you are a sad excuse for a man to start with. Well...I certainly feel better, how 'bout you?!
I have no intention of waiting seven more weeks before a I post again, so hopefully someone is still out there reading this stuff. If not, it still relieves some of the pressure in this over-stuffed melon of mine. Face it, I'm a gas-bag.
Thanks for staying with me...more soon.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Puppy File...Lola gets a crash helmet?
Our little Lola is growing like the proverbial weed. 40+ pounds now. She has not grasped the concept that leaping into our laps at near-sonic speeds will cause air to escape violently from our lungs. Come to think of it, she hasn't grasped most concepts regarding velocity and solid matter. You know, small things like...there is a back to the crate...the couch doesn't move, not even for a determined Bullmastiff puppy...and the back door doesn't open simply because you ram you head against it.
Oh well, I guess even Einstein wasn't a genius at 17 weeks...
Little does she know that obedience training starts in two weeks! Gestapo school! Woo-Hoo. Sit! Stay! Happy come! All of our girls have been through the same course. We're well known there. The bad part of that is, if our dogs screw-up, we get called-out by the instructor...Gregg! What is Lola doing?!?! Uh, lazy sit? Why is Lola doing lazy sit? Uh, because I'm an idiot?
Actually, obedience is a good refresher for us as well as a great early socializing exercise for Lola. A socialized puppy is a happy puppy, or some such rot. Despite the fact that the Bullmastiff breed is a friendly lot, we absolutely believe our dogs were better for the experience of obedience school. Besides, if you ever want to participate in therapy or some other working endeavor, basic obedience is going to be a prerequisite. Who knows, maybe Lola will be our first Canine Good Citizen. HaHaHa...I crack myself up.
Oh ya, the crash helmet reference.
Bullys are, according to the AKC Standard, supposed to have "tulip" ears. Basically, V-shaped ears that lie flat to the head. Lola does not have tulip ears. Hers look more like fuzzy rotini. She's cute as a bug in her pictures, but those ears. We're talking Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer nose ears. (that doesn't make complete sense to me, and I wrote it) She'll probably get picked-on by the other dogs in obedience school. Hey, look at the weird kid! Check out those ears! Maybe she'll get to go to the land of misfit toys. I always wanted a Charlie-in-the-Box. Hmm, Rudy turned out OK, right?
So, what is the answer for fuzzy rotini? Tape. Wide, sticky tape. We're talking NFL Football player sprained ankle tape. Fold it this way. Fold it that way. Keep it flat. That should do it. Man, those things flap around like Dumbo's ears. She needs a chin strap. More tape. Cut it here, fold it there, attach it to her ears. Nope, too long. She needs a chin strap, not a face mask. Shorten it up, a little adjustment. Presto! Instant wrestling headgear. She hates it. If she had a sense of self (and a mirror) she would be horrified. It's a good thing puppies don't tease each other.
So that's it then. Another installment of the Lola file. We'll see how the training goes. Don't forget poop bags. Nothing worse than stopping class to go look for paper towels. Poor thing, she has no idea what she's in for...
Oh well, I guess even Einstein wasn't a genius at 17 weeks...
Little does she know that obedience training starts in two weeks! Gestapo school! Woo-Hoo. Sit! Stay! Happy come! All of our girls have been through the same course. We're well known there. The bad part of that is, if our dogs screw-up, we get called-out by the instructor...Gregg! What is Lola doing?!?! Uh, lazy sit? Why is Lola doing lazy sit? Uh, because I'm an idiot?
Actually, obedience is a good refresher for us as well as a great early socializing exercise for Lola. A socialized puppy is a happy puppy, or some such rot. Despite the fact that the Bullmastiff breed is a friendly lot, we absolutely believe our dogs were better for the experience of obedience school. Besides, if you ever want to participate in therapy or some other working endeavor, basic obedience is going to be a prerequisite. Who knows, maybe Lola will be our first Canine Good Citizen. HaHaHa...I crack myself up.
Oh ya, the crash helmet reference.
Bullys are, according to the AKC Standard, supposed to have "tulip" ears. Basically, V-shaped ears that lie flat to the head. Lola does not have tulip ears. Hers look more like fuzzy rotini. She's cute as a bug in her pictures, but those ears. We're talking Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer nose ears. (that doesn't make complete sense to me, and I wrote it) She'll probably get picked-on by the other dogs in obedience school. Hey, look at the weird kid! Check out those ears! Maybe she'll get to go to the land of misfit toys. I always wanted a Charlie-in-the-Box. Hmm, Rudy turned out OK, right?
So, what is the answer for fuzzy rotini? Tape. Wide, sticky tape. We're talking NFL Football player sprained ankle tape. Fold it this way. Fold it that way. Keep it flat. That should do it. Man, those things flap around like Dumbo's ears. She needs a chin strap. More tape. Cut it here, fold it there, attach it to her ears. Nope, too long. She needs a chin strap, not a face mask. Shorten it up, a little adjustment. Presto! Instant wrestling headgear. She hates it. If she had a sense of self (and a mirror) she would be horrified. It's a good thing puppies don't tease each other.
So that's it then. Another installment of the Lola file. We'll see how the training goes. Don't forget poop bags. Nothing worse than stopping class to go look for paper towels. Poor thing, she has no idea what she's in for...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Your Vet, your dogs second best friend.
Are you on a first-name basis with your dogs Doctor? We are. I don't know that our dogs have been sick or hurt more than others, more unlucky perhaps. My point is, we have a relationship with our Vet(s). They know us, we know them. More importantly, our Vet knows our dogs and the dogs trust the Vet.
Why do I think this is important? Because our Vets know at what level they can speak to us and know that we will understand what they are trying to tell us. Veterinarians are Doctors. That means they speak "doctor" English, not "people" English. If I don't understand something the Vet is explaining, I may not make the proper decision for my pet. Our Vets know they can speak to us a certain way and we will not have any confusion. That knowledge of each other and the comfort level that knowledge creates makes the decision making process clearer. Maybe not easier, but one based on understanding the issues the dog is facing.
It's so nice knowing that our girls go into the Vets' office with tails wagging, as opposed to pulling the lead in the opposite direction! We absolutely trust our Vets. We know that they will make decisions and provide care that is thorough and compassionate. I don't believe that our dogs get better care because we have a relationship with our Vet. I do believe that we understand the care they get better. Knowledge is power. I believe that we are empowered to provide the best possible care for our pets because we don't have any ambiguity about what is wrong. We agonize over the health of our girls, buy we don't lose sleep wondering if we are doing all we can for them.
We would never leave our own Doctor's office not knowing exactly what is wrong with our health. We don't want to leave the Vet wondering about one of our dogs. I would never take a prescribed medication not understanding what it is for and how often I should take it. My dogs deserve the same consideration.
If you don't already have a "first name" relationship with your Vet, please try to build one. It will be the best medicine you can give your dog.
Why do I think this is important? Because our Vets know at what level they can speak to us and know that we will understand what they are trying to tell us. Veterinarians are Doctors. That means they speak "doctor" English, not "people" English. If I don't understand something the Vet is explaining, I may not make the proper decision for my pet. Our Vets know they can speak to us a certain way and we will not have any confusion. That knowledge of each other and the comfort level that knowledge creates makes the decision making process clearer. Maybe not easier, but one based on understanding the issues the dog is facing.
It's so nice knowing that our girls go into the Vets' office with tails wagging, as opposed to pulling the lead in the opposite direction! We absolutely trust our Vets. We know that they will make decisions and provide care that is thorough and compassionate. I don't believe that our dogs get better care because we have a relationship with our Vet. I do believe that we understand the care they get better. Knowledge is power. I believe that we are empowered to provide the best possible care for our pets because we don't have any ambiguity about what is wrong. We agonize over the health of our girls, buy we don't lose sleep wondering if we are doing all we can for them.
We would never leave our own Doctor's office not knowing exactly what is wrong with our health. We don't want to leave the Vet wondering about one of our dogs. I would never take a prescribed medication not understanding what it is for and how often I should take it. My dogs deserve the same consideration.
If you don't already have a "first name" relationship with your Vet, please try to build one. It will be the best medicine you can give your dog.
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