Dog Obedience and the Holiday

Well, Christmas has finally come. For days I’ve been dreaming about Santa Claus. The way Kobe has been acting, he’s just begging for a big hunk of coal in his stocking.

He perches on the furniture to look out the window, sleeps on the bed whenever the humans are gone and leaves little surprises in the back office. And not good surprises of course.

And the counter-surfing! For the sake of brevity, I won’t go into that.

So today I was looking so forward to Christmas and just expecting something. Maybe a little giftee, a stocking filled with trinkets, a squeaky toy to pounce on, some juicy treats! I did hear that there were Milk bone® wreaths made for us.

Not Feeling Grateful

But, Christmas morning there was nothing. The wreaths got misplaced; we heard we’ll get them later. There were little bits of ham in our dinner. But, it wasn’t the exciting Christmas I had planned on.

I just knew all along that Kobe would gum up the works! Then I learned that the good dog, the perfect pet, moi,is registered for “Basic Manners”, an obedience class.

If that doesn’t beat all! Here I am, obedient as ever and I’m the one being “trained.” Can’t wait to blog about that.

A most unsatisfying holiday.

Tootles, Barcelona

A Summer Weekend

 

     Now that it's fall, my mind wanders back to our summer adventures. Kobe, our humans and I were heading up north for a long weekend. At first, we anxiously noticed the suitcases coming out. But, when the Milkbone® biscuits and squeaky toys got packed, we knew that this time we were going along. 

     As we drove along we saw a motel along the road. It will remain unnamed for soon-to-be obvious reasons. Nearby there was a very nice doghouse with a St. Bernard in front. His name, Barney, adorned the house. He seemed like a friendly enough sort, but when I sniffed him he didn’t sniff back and had no dog smell! What the hay?

      Turns out he’s just a statue. But, he’s sitting in front of a perfectly serviceable dog house.  So, Barney did offer some respite for a weary traveler.  
    Well, I am the product of good breeding and I conduct myself as a lady. As such I prefer to do “my business” in private. When the opportunity arose for me to use the necessary away from prying eyes, I took it! Is that so wrong?

     I did NOT understand why everyone erupted in hysterical giggles as I discretely went in the cool recesses of Barney's home. Not to worry my dear audience, they cleaned up after I was done, but not without enjoying a good laugh at my expense. 
     Well that was the highlight of our vacation. Since I do not kayak, don’t like the water and was not offered an ice cream cone or taken out to a nice dinner, I’m afraid the trip had little to offer.  So much for another tepid adventure.

Toodles, Barcelona

 

A Turd is a Turd is a Turd



My paw on the mouse

I’ve been surfing the web and reading other dog’s blogs. One is a provocative website written by some pit bulls rescued from the Michael Vick case.  One dog, Grace, has been blogging since her rescue in 2007 or 2008 which you can read at

vickdogsblog.blogspot.com. 

 Now they have a pretty sweet life. And I appreciate the emphasis on the present, not the past. But, it made me think about Mr. Vick, someone with a vague resemblance to a human being.

 

Not to say he doesn't have his supporters! But then so did Hitler; (as you know, throwing out Hitler’s name always helps solidify whatever argument you’re making!)

Well, you may like Michael Vick and think he’s a swell guy and great football player; but there’s no guarantee that he’s going to treat anyone better than he treated these dogs, many of whom he killed in a gruesome manner.  There is lots of research on animal abusers and the likelihood that they abuse others, domestic partners, elders, children, etc. And in this dog’s opinion, he deserved to go to prison. Remember the cartoon titled “Jury of his Peers?” 

A Jury of His Peers

So kudos to Grace and the rest for going on to have a good life after encountering that waste of skin. Thanks also to the rescuers and all those others working to end cruelty towards animals. The best revenge IS living well.

And why is the Humane Society of the United States now working with this sadist who is doing public announcements since he is supposedly reformed? Face it, the reason he stopped is because he got caught. 

 You Michael Vick are a turd, turd, turd. No offense to any fine turds out there.

Tootles,
 

Barcelona

 

Addendum to Whippet 2012 Nationals

Here I am on the car trip. Was hoping to get some driving experience, but no dice. My feet don't reach the clutch pedal or the brake.

Wood You Believe It?

I'm breathless as I write this. I almost CAPTURED A GROUNDHOG! Here's how it happened:

The other night I casually padded into the backyard, then caught a glimpse of a huge, lumbering shape.
 Instantly my drive for "prey" kicked in! I dug my toes into the turf, propelling my lithe, muscular body into warp speed. (I'm practising my descriptive writing skills here).

As I leaned in to nab the varmit, I clamped my teeth onto its tail, allowing me a first delicous taste of the creature (hmm, a fruity essence with definite woody tones as you might guess.)

As I moved in for the kill, she/he managed to waddle quickly under the hole in the fence. And....I had been so close!

This creature has been eating squash and bean shoots from the garden, taunting me regularly but always escaping under the back fence. I think there's actually an entire family back there. I was ready to pounce and end the vegetarian's voracious binging.

Now I feel like Wiley Coyote. I guess there is always next time. Wish me luck..

Toodles, Barcelona

Whippet Nationals 2012

Whippet Nationals

Goodness, it’s the middle of June! And I’ve written one single post since April. I guess I’m busy living life and running out of time to blog about it.

Whippet Nationals is the annual meeting for the Whippet breed through the American Kennel Club. What an experience, there were whippets everywhere! Brindle whippets, black whippets, fawn, tan, cream, sable, every color of whippet you can imagine. And the whippet items:  whippet coats, collars, pictures, tiles, pillows, magazines, note pads. One of my humans bought both Kobe and I new coats, new collars and purchased lots of whippet swag.

 At first, all those dogs barking around me got me feeling a little anxious. I was surrounded and began to have flashbacks from my crowded and chaotic first home.

But then I said to myself, “Barcie girl, you were a Show Dog. You know this world; take it in stride. After all, you were a star!”

So when Wrap (Whippet Rescue and Placement) held their Parade of Rescues the final day of the Nationals, I confidently took my turn around the ring and listened calmly while my biography was being read. And heavens, most of the other rescue dogs had stories that were very, very dark. Made me feel like mine wasn’t all that bad.

Afterwards, each rescue dog received ribbons and a bag with some trinkets; toys, blankets, a ribbon honoring each of us as WRAP rescues.

Afterwards I slept for 2 days. That whirl of travel and excitement just wore me out. And Kobe? Here he is in his new duds, looking very “man about town.” That’s what we brought him from Nationals; he gets way too crazed around other dogs to come along.

 Well, I need to 'wrap' this up (chuckle) so until next time..

Toodles, Barcelona

My Dog's Therapist

Yes my dear audience, I have been reading My Therapist’s Dog, by Diana Wells. The author sees a therapist after several major losses in her life. She takes care of her therapist’s pet and finds that the dog serves as another part of her therapy. Well, I have thought of myself as a therapist for the two goof balls that "own" Kobe and I.  They have both been to plenty of therapy I know, although that's the norm in Ann Arbor.

I for one have had my share of loss and trauma. Just imagine, your owners die, suddenly the police, the neighbors are there and all of us whippets are wondering, “What will happen next?” As tough as it was at our old home, living with minimal human attention and being the youngest dogs in the pack, it was still home and familiar. I had my "peeps" you know? My homies, my friends. So when they split us up it was very very lonely. I eventually went to a foster home, where I did adore Bobbie, my foster mom. I am hoping to see her at Whippet Nationals.

When they came to adopt me and I was reunited with Kobe, we were both ecstatic! We jumped over coffee tables and couches with joy! He is a knucklehead but I don't know what I'd do without the old boy. Kobe is my only connection to the past.

Whether the past was good or bad, we still miss it. As I say as a therapist, "All change is loss. And loss must be mourned." Now if I could only get some clients! Any takers out there? Of course I am not going to fuss about silly details, such as a license, training or a degree. 

Next blog, a full report about my day at Whippet Nationals and the wonderful souls who run WRAP, the rescue group. That's all for now!

Tootles,
Barcelona
 

Change Change Change

Kobe and I were visiting when our grandparents moved from the old homestead to a senior apartment. It was a sad day for all; although I didn’t shed any tears I tried to provide emotional support (meaning that I made myself available for petting).

I can relate as I, too had a big life change. Our owners died (first the lady, then the man). After Mr. S. passed away, someone discovered us and a convoy of cars took us away from our house. We were all hungry and thirsty since a few days had passed. Suddenly, we were separated, I got spaded and Kobe was neutralized. Later on there were baths, nail trimming, all of that. The people were sweet to us, but so much chaos and change!

I ended up with a very nice foster lady named Bobbie and stayed at her house for a time. (She adored me, but that is par for the course you know).

Since being adopted, Kobe and I have discovered many new and wonderful things:  squeaky toys, learning to lick off spoons, barking at other dogs through the picture window, having our very own beds, riding in the car. Naturally there are some downsides, like going to the vet, nail cutting, having to follow commands and all that.  

So, Grand-mère and Grand-père, take it from me. As painful as it is to leave your neighbors, the house where you have been nearly as long as you can remember and your city; a new place will eventually be like a comfortable old shoe. Here’s my advice:  embrace the future, something good comes with every change.

Toodles, Barcelona

American Whippet Club Nationals 2012: What shall I wear?

Guess what? The American Whippet Club Nationals 2012 will take place in Huron, Ohio.That's a mere hop, skip and jump from where Kobe and I live. WRAP (Whippet Rescue and Placement), our fabulous rescue organization will have a slideshow of rescued dogs at their table. Not only that, WRAP is having a parade! The parade will feature rescued whippets and we each get a turn in the ring along with a two paragraph biography.

Now I'm not sure if we are actually going. After all, we are dogs who don't really get along with other dogs. I guess that might preclude attending an event full of other dogs and staying at a hotel with hundreds of other dogs. But, we'll see! I'm hopeful! Now I'll decide what I'm going to wear...

Toodles, Barcelona

Cooper the King Cav

My friend, Barcie, asked me to write something about my pack and our humans. My name is Cooper and I'm a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. I've been with my family for about one year. 

My people, Steve and Susan, heard about me from their veterinarian.  I was living with a family who really couldn't take care of me and they were looking for a better home for me. When Steve and Susan saw me, they saw a scrawny, skinny, lonely guy, but underneath they saw a little dog with lots of potential.

I went home with them and to my surprise found I had a home with four other dogs, lots of cats, a bird, a horse and two donkeys.  The house was in the country with some open land (we call it the "dog park") where I could run as fast and as much as I wanted.

My brothers and sisters are all bigger than me; Nick, Sam and Miranda are retrievers and Morgan is a Keeshond, but I can run faster than all of them and boy do I love to run! Well, Morgan is pretty much my speed, but I'm still faster. 

In the summer we have water in the dog park and while Susan throws sticks for the others to retrieve, I play with Morgan.  There's even a big black cat named Bob who comes out with us.  He's as big as me, so I don't bother him too much. 

Last Thanksgiving I ran off and scared Steve and Susan.  It was cold and raining and I thought I would go for a walk without the rest of the gang. Not a good idea because I got lost. (Not as lost as Susan in the soybean field, but that’s another story.)

I could hear my humans calling for me. I was really miserable, cold and wet.  Steve was in his car looking for me and Susan was walking around out in the fields.  It was really stupid of me to run off and I wanted to go home.  I just focused on their voices and thought how much I wanted to go home. (Unfortunately I wasn’t wearing ruby slippers or it might have been easier!) I started running back, looking for something familiar. Finally, I saw the outline of the house and zipped into the back yard.  When Steve drove back to the house, I was so happy to see him! I ran up and jumped all over him!  

Susan came home, all wet and cold.  Funny thing, they didn't yell at me. They just kept hugging me and telling me how worried they were about me and how I should never do that again. We all got dried off and I snuggled under the blanket with them on the couch, watching TV and falling asleep in Steve's lap. You betcha I'm not doing that again. I have the best home ever. I’m not taking any chances!

You should see my coat now.  I look so handsome. I'm not scrawny or skinny anymore.  I'm loved.  I'm home.

Bone Wars

Bone wars. Yes, Kobe and I are having bone wars. That’s what we call it when both of us are given a sacred Purina® “Busy Bone”.

Our owners also call it “bone fever”. Symptoms include lots of frantic “burying” of bones under blankets, furtive scurrying up and down stairs, and scuffles with snapping, whining, growling and other canine drama. Of course, whoever actually chews their bone first is the loser.

The other day when we got these treats, I of course worked on acquiring both of them. Not too hard to do from my simple brother. I’m the alpha dog after all. In the whippet world, anyhow, that’s how female and males interact. 

Winter Holidays Weight Gain

Does this coat make me look fat?

Well, the holidays resulted in a little weight gain for me. As a result, our vet at All Creatures Vet Clinic decided that we should not get canned food on our dry kibble anymore. To make matters worse, the vet nixed the “gravy” that the humans used to whip up with hot water and canned food. 

The doc blathered on about liquids, exercise and inverting stomachs in sighthounds. To add insult to injury, she examined me and had the audacity to proclaim me a “5 ½” on the Purina Pet Obesity Scale! 

I gained all of 2 lbs. and she loudly asked the humans to “feel the layer of fat" over my ribs. Such a humiliation! Where did my girlish figure go! Thankfully I have plenty of confidence and I will not allow any overeducated graduate of “Moo U” to insult me. (I am going to miss that gravy though…)