Photo of the Day

Dexter, Brownie, and Robie frolicking.

Photo of the Day

This is why Republicans scare me a little bit:

Dog Blogging – Seeking Advice

There’s this kid in my neighborhood who is going through a hard time. His family is very poor, and since the kid doesn’t eat all that often, I think his dog eats even less.

He has to move from where I live, which is about an hour outside of Indy where the kid has free access to a lake, woods, streams, and where he has a lot of friends to go live in a shitty apartment complex in Indy. That’s sad enough for him.

But worse, his mother told him yesterday that he has to give up his dog (Brownie) and he doesn’t think that his sister can take Brownie.

Like a sucker, I volunteered to be Brownie’s foster parent.

This is Brownie:

Brownie is staying in the garage tonight. He’s sweet as hell, but as thin as a Latin American street dog. He ate five cups of dry food and one can of wet food tonight, whereas my dogs usually eat two cups of dry food each and share a can of wet food daily. He seems to be flea-ridden.

The plan is to take him to the vet tomorrow so he can get his shots and get an examination to determine how healthy he is. That’s the easy part.

Once he is declared to be healthy, I will have to introduce him to my two dogs, Robie and Dexter.

I’ve heard that it’s horrible when two dogs meet a third to join their pack. I’ve also been told that they start fighting and chewing on things when a third dog is introduced.

Does anyone know if this is true? Is there a better way to get them to meet so they all get along?

Obama’s New Dog

There’s been a lot of talk about what kind of dog the Obamas should get for their girls after the election.

I was glad to find this petition from the Best Friends Animal Society urging the Obamas to adopt a dog from a shelter rather than to buy one. I think it’s a great suggestion, as the Obamas would gain a loyal and thankful ally and also send a great message to the people of this country about dog adoption.

Dog Blogging and Fireworks

LiveScience asks if fireworks scare pets.

No shit? Why did they even bother?

They conclude that many pets are indeed terrified of fireworks. Here are some of their suggestions to keep your pets safe:

1) Never leave pets alone outdoors, even if tethered or in a fenced yard. Dogs, especially, may escape and become lost or injure themselves by chewing or choking on their leashes. Keep small pets sheltered indoors and horses in their stalls.

2) Put them inside an inner room in the house if possible and make sure all sharp objects are removed from the enclosure.

3) Turn on the radio or TV for distraction.

4) Do not take a pet to fireworks shows.

Good tips, all of them.

But this is Dexter, my Old English Sheepdog:

He’s a good dog, but he’s so scared of the noises associated with fireworks that he won’t go outside to do what he needs to do while neighborhood kids shoot off firecrackers and bottle rockets on the night before the Fourth of July. Those noises scare Dexter shitless. Literally.

I’m fully expecting to have to clean up a pile of brown stuff on my basement floor in the morning. No matter how hard we try, he simply seems to be unable to get over his aversion to loud pops.

Dog Blogging

Sorry, please allow me this indulgence.

Someone once said that the closest you can ever get to God is when a stray animal comes to stay with you.

Robie, the dog in the picture just showed up one day and has since refused to leave. He’s a great dog.

Do you have a good story about a dog that you found on the street, but who ended up becoming your most trusted ally?

My Worst Childhood Fear

My parents divorced when I was five years old. Mom, my sister and I moved to California while dad stayed in Ohio, though he eventually moved to Arizona and we moved a few times after that. But we were a bicoastal family and I ended up spending many summers with my dad. Those summers were usually pretty good, but I always dreaded returning to my mom’s house out of fear of what they had done with Buddy, our Labrador Retriever.

I had no reason to think that my mother and stepfather would have done anything to Buddy, but in my mind, it seemed that there were a multitude of threats to Buddy’s well-being and that sweet dog would be dead before I got home in mid-August.

My fear wasn’t so much that Buddy would die, but more that he would die and my parents would try to replace him with another Lab because they thought I was too stupid to notice that it wasn’t the same dog. Every August, I would look in the dog’s eyes and then into his mouth to investigate every spot and tooth to ensure that my parents weren’t covering up Buddy’s death.

In the end, I always decided the dog was the Buddy I knew and loved.

For that reason, I was amused by this story:

Ken Griggs likes his new dog, but he preferred the old one. Then again, it might be the same dog. In a possible case of mistaken identity, Griggs said the black Labrador named Callie that he left at a Dundee kennel before spring break was not the same dog he picked up a week later.

Snip

Allison Best, owner of the Tail Wag-Inn boarding kennel, said Griggs has the right dog. But Callie’s vet examined the dog Griggs brought home and found evidence that it’s not Callie.

“We know it’s not Callie,” veterinarian Andrea Frost told The Oregonian newspaper.

Griggs said he immediately noticed differences in the dog he picked up from the kennel. The family cat — normally friends with Callie — hissed at the dog. Callie would heel; this dog did not.

Griggs returned the dog to the kennel and Best examined whether Callie might have gotten mixed-up with any of the other black Labradors staying there that week.

Owners of the seven other black Labs all said they had the right dog.

Snip

Still, Best arranged for the owners and their dogs to meet March 31 for a possible exchange. The woman called saying she was late, Best said.

Meanwhile, Griggs had arrived with his family. A black Lab got excited when the Griggses approached, the kids declared it was Callie, and into the car the dog went.

It was the same dog the Griggs had just returned.

Snip

Griggs has hired a lawyer, but Best says the case is closed.

“Mr. Griggs kind of lost his credibility with me the second time he came into the kennel with his family and reclaimed the same dog,” she said. “If he can’t recognize his dog, I don’t feel I can be any help.”

Jesus Christ. It seems like my childhood neuroses had some basis in reality. I’m feeling really bad for Griggs.