For The Birds - You Should All Enjoy Threatened Status Because You Are

This is a Lesser Prairie Chicken, a bird native to parts of Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado and New Mexico.  The Feds have just designated it as threatened.

I have no problem with that at all though species disappear all the time and new ones appear.  To recognize that, however, is not politically expedient.

See, I think all birds and even bats should be considered threatened because we're the ones killing them in droves.

These particular birds  have major habitat in potential oil fields so it stands to reason this is why their disappearing. So says the government anyway. It has nothing to do with the fact this administration is against any fossil fuel.  But it's not the only reason.  It's drought.  Severe drought which is not man made nor made by energy companies.

On the other hand, you hear little from government sources about how many birds are being slaughtered by what they deem to be the energy of the future.  Wind farms and solar fields.  What a way to go.  Starve because there is no food or water.  Get your head lopped off from flying into the blades on wind turbines or get fried by the heat generated by solar panels.  Oh, yeah,  don't forget all those who get sucked into jet engines!

All man made except for the drought but I'm sure somehow or other that will be blamed on President Bush and the Republicans.  Boy, that would be ironic.  Bush, a former oil man!

For all you feathered friends, I wish I had millions of acres I could groom into the specific habitats you need.  Unfortunately I only have a shy five acres but you're welcome to nest or rest here.  The birds we do have live a pretty good life.  Those who don't survive don't because of natural selection.  The hawks do like quail for dinner now and then but everyone is pretty savvy as to how to avoid the times when its less than safe.

Heaven forbid any government entity should come around. Then none of them will be safe. Every once in a while I see one of those turbines pop up.  I wish people would raise as much of a fuss about their unsightliness as they do about cell towers!  Which aren't safe either.

If these generators of energy are the wave of the future, don't they owe it to the birds to make them safe before inundating acre upon acre with them?

We need to make the safety of birds a political agenda, an ideology even.  That is the only sure way to save them.  Too bad.

Going To The Dogs

I'm paying much more attention, though it often takes some looking, to stories about the incredible good that goes on within our communities.  The type of activity that reminds me when put in the right hands all will be well. I need the mental boost.

Often such stories involve animals, in this case dogs.  Put a dog with a youth at risk in our area you don't get abuse, you get a miracle.  That is if the kids are engaged in a program called Pawsitive Works.

You've seen it work with adult offenders, you've seen it work with returning vets with problems, why shouldn't dog therapy work with kids?  What better match?

For five weeks youngsters are paired with a dog from local shelters and work with them three times a week. What a teaching tool.  Perhaps the greatest thing  learned is about love and that it goes both ways. And more.

Think about what is learned about how a dog acts and being able to translate that to people.  How a dog learns.  What motivates them.  It's all a positive two way street.  They even learn how to say good bye which is probably the most difficult part. Yet it is paired with the satisfaction  of knowing that a formerly unwanted pet is then adoptable because of your efforts.

Here the program began in somewhat remote Bonner County but is spreading.  The story that caught my eye was about the program in one of our local alternative schools.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if it caught on across the country.  Kids and dogs both getting a new lease on life.  It doesn't get any better.

The Great Pretender!

Ya know, some people just aren't meant to have pets.  Even when you do everything right, like take them to the vet after you've purchased them at a bazaar.

Many years ago I did just that when we adopted our Louie and Marie from a couple of kids getting rid of some unwanted puppies.  The sign on their box identified them as American Eskimo and German Shepard. The vet got a good laugh out of that and when he was through we decided the most likely mix was Border Collie and Newf.  Never-the-less they were cute puppies.

Imagine, though, having your vet tell you the two $150 pups you just adopted weren't the Toy Poodles you hoped they were, but rather ferrets on steroids with fancy haircuts!

That's what happened to a retiree in Argentina recently. This poor fellow wasn't the only one who was conned either.  A lady had complained she had bought what she thought was a Chihuahua. I don't know.  Look at the neck on the ferret?  How the heck do you disguise that to make it look like a Poodle or a Chihuahua for that matter?  The length of the body?  The length of the legs?

Now I understand wanting a dog so much you might over look the lack of a pedigree.  Many will tell you mutts, rescue dogs, often make the best pets.  Having had both I can't say that's necessarily true, I've had great success with both.

One thing I can tell you for sure.  When I thought I was getting a dog, that's exactly what I got.  I cannot imagine not being suspect if some other critter was made up to look like a particular breed unless Hollywood had a go at it as they did with the Lab who played the Saint Bernard Cujo.  Out of makeup, there was no doubt.  That dog was no Saint in or out of the film.

Maybe a pet is a pet.  I see lots of ferrets in pet stores so I guess they're quite popular though not particularly long lived where a Toy Poodle can live up to 20 years.  On the other hand you can let a Ferret perch on your shoulder or ride in your pocket.  They only weigh about three pounds.

They say the Poodles are sweet, cheerful, perky and lively and love to be around people. Ferrets on the other hand sleep around 18 hours a day, are accident prone, when they need to go there is no holding it. They can exude a musky odor that is made only slightly better by keeping their bedding clean.  After all, they are related to skunks!

Who knows what the duped owners did with their "pets" but from what I've been able to find, being sold a ferret when you thought you were getting a dog really stinks!

Michael Vick - A Step Too Far

I've become pretty jaded over my lifetime and little shocks or surprises me, but I must admit that the news that Michael Vick has a new dog did just that.

It seems he tweeted a picture of his daughter and happened to catch the corner of a Milk Bone box in it.  Then the picture was replaced without the box.  That in itself makes me queasy.  He tried to hide the truth.

Legally he has every right to have a dog now that his parole for the horrendous abuse he was instrumental in inflicting on the dogs in his dog fighting ring has ended.

He claims that what he had done in the past in no way molded who he is today.  I'm no psychologist but I don't buy it.  Every experience you have in life molds who you are.  He claims it's for his kids so they can learn to love and respect animals.  Fine.  You leave and let the kids have the dog.

A lot of his fighting dogs were taken in by Best Friends Animal Society for care and rehabilitation.  Many are still there with severe personality problems. Many had to be euthanized because of their injuries. Somehow all the court mandated work for the Humane Society is supposed to negate all this.  Tell that to the dogs who fight for their lives even now.

I'm sorry, no.  Michael Vick has had more breaks than most would ever get because of his prowess on the football field.  He has regained his wealth.  He has regained his adoring fans - at least as long as his skills last.  That's more than enough.  Way more.

I live in an area of the country where attitudes toward animals is mixed.  Most love their dogs every bit as much as I loved ours.  Others think of them as no more than possessions to be used for whatever sport their owner decides - from hunting to fighting. Too much fighting.  Too much neglect.

There is always the argument that an animal's life is not as valuable as a human.  Unless you're making heaps of money on the fights.  But the animal has no say.  It's a cliche as old as time, I know, but also undeniably true.

If a human can be executed for taking another's life or sentenced to life in prison people applaud.  The creep got what he deserved.  If a sex offender or a child molester has to register so people know of their proximity, people cheer.   That gives them the edge on keeping themselves and their children safe.

So it should be for those who abuse animals.  Perhaps a better lesson for his kids would be to work along side their Dad with the Humane Society.  You don't always get what you want and it isn't always your fault.  This time it was Dads.

I have no objection to second chances but the caveat is it should be deserved.  Mr. Vick has had a multitude of second chances pan out to his benefit.  The one he doesn't deserve is to ever have a living breathing animal living under the same roof.  Nor does that animal.

It Was The Best Of Times...And The Worst

People who love dogs know there is nothing in the world like them.  Least of all people.

Shortly after we lost our Saint Bernard Bacchus a new one came into our lives via You Tube.  Jub Jub.  At the time just months old and as owners of new puppies do, his owner flooded You Tube with videos of their adventures.  I received an invite that I would guess went to every Saint fan he could find.

It was all of our Saints all over again rolled into one.  I couldn't wait for new ones.  The timing was great because it helped heal the pain of my loss.

With time inconsolable grief turns into happy memories and you move on. At least it did with me and Jub Jub's young man.  He moved, the videos became less frequent but we were friends on Facebook and I check in every now and then.

Time came to clean some things out of our game room.  Sitting in a corner was a cardboard cut out of Beethoven I've had for 20 or so years.  I picked him up from our local video store just after we lost Oaf who had preceded Bacchus as head Saint in our household.  I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather pass him on to than Jub Jub and his human.  All because of their relationship - it's special, at least to me.  He's there now, in a place of honor on the wall above Jub Jub's sleeping space.  It seemed a happy and fitting thing to do, I had healed.

But you never really do.  My niece called me today in tears.  She had just had their greyhound euthanized.  The vet suspected a neurological problem for some time and yesterday it manifested itself to the point of no return.  She described it to me, her anguish palpable.  It brought back all those feelings as if my own experiences with Bacchus, all my dogs, had been yesterday.  My eyes are moist now.  For my niece and her family, for her Treason and all our pets that have gone before.

It hurts.  Oh my, I had forgotten how much. I grieve more for my dogs than I do for most people. I don't recall who said that dogs aren't your whole life but they make your life whole.  How true.

Such is the joy and the sorrow of allowing yourself to love that deeply and be loved equally as much in return.  Run free Treason.  That we could rejoin our dogs at some point in eternity would make all the pain and turmoil we live with in our earthly existance more than worth it.

It's The Pits

I've gone and done it.  I've totally lost my sense of humor.  I define more and more of what I hear as tasteless.  Jokes included.  Take for instance Obama's crack at the White House Correspondents Dinner regarding Sarah Palin. Was it about Sarah? Or something else?

"What's the difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull?  A pit bull  is delicious."

I guess there are some things of which I find hard to let go.  One is the horror story of football's Michael Vick and his dog fighting ring of pit bulls. I'm still reading progress reports on those rescued by Best Friend's Animal Society.  I've crossed paths with a lot of pit bulls during my years and have yet to meet one that deserves the reputation they have as a breed.  Oh sure.  They can turn and do but it's not a trait exclusive to them.  Even my beloved Saints can be nasty and believe me a nasty Saint is no Saint!  I guess that's why the President's joke left me cold.

I usually weigh how men treat their wives in public when forming an opinion.  Maybe I should pay more attention as to how they joke, or even just talk, about their dogs!  Neither Mitt Romney nor Obama rate very high on the Arf Scale!

Sure, Obama was referring to his previous comment about having eaten dog as a youth.  I know it's considered a perfectly legitimate food in some societies.  But not ours.  It's the connotation in the form of a joke.  Animal lovers in this country fight so hard to give our voiceless companions the best lives possible.  They fight the idea that an animal is no more then a possession and can be treated anyway you please.  They aren't inanimate objects.  They are living, breathing, feeling creatures. Does how you treat your possessions carry over to how you treat your animals?  Does it carry over to family too?  Some would say yes.  I'm not sure.  I've never experienced the circumstance.  Our dogs have always been treated  like the most revered of people.

It just hit my hot button.  I've been saturated with mean spirited and truth challenged commentary over the months since political season began in earnest.  It's going to get worse before it gets better, I know.  Go ahead,  tear one another apart.  Lie about one another.  Leave it to the bewildered brain power of the voters to sort it out.  But leave our dogs out of it.  Don't joke about eating them while legalizing the trapping of wolves.  Keep your attacks aimed at those on equal footing who are equipped to fight back - other politicians.

As words and phrases are being banned on what seems nearly a daily basis, maybe we should do away with "It's a dog eat dog world."  More appropriately it should be " It's a politician eats politician world." After all they are the ones cannibalizing our way of life.

Who The Heck Is Jub Jub McFadden?

Jub Jub McFadden.  The name kind of rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?  No?  Well, I guess it's in the mind of the beholder.  You see, he's the new man in my life.  Relatively new anyway. Actually there are two of them, the other being his Dad.

I've written before about how sometimes something special comes along through blogging and all that has accompanied it like You Tube.  Remember back when Bacchus was sick and I posted videos about his well being - or lack thereof?  I had just gotten my Flip video camera the Christmas before we knew he was so sick.  I never got to do all I had planned.  Videos of fun with my dog.

Fast forward maybe a year after he had left us.  I got an invitation to subscribe to the videos of one Beefstew.  Speaking of curious names!  Curiosity won and there I met Jub Jub.  A Saint Bernard puppy and his dad.  It was love at first sight.

I've a couple of other friends on Facebook with Saints though with one being Greek and the other Italian I miss out on the dialog. And of course there was Oly, the Saint belonging to our vet tech.  So it isn't as though I've been deprived of my Saint fix.

What I found, however, is this tremedous bond between a young man and his dog. I know most people love their dogs as much as I loved mine.  Most, however, don't show the relationship develop as has Stew with Jub Jub.  Every dog in the world should have a person like Stew.

It also drove home that raising a Saint Bernard is a joy  meant for people much younger than me!  The energy!  The adventures.  The laughter with dogs and cats and friends - and chipmunks!  It's hilarious, poignant and exhilerating.  The first thing I do when I open my e-mail is to look for a new You Tube announcement.

Now my vicarious world is complete.  Jub Jub has his own Facebook page! Both Jub Jub and his Dad have friended me. I'm thrilled.  I really am.  It makes me feel more a part of them.  It isn't the same as having my own living breathing furry friend, but it's as good as it gets as a substitute.  How can you not love a guy who stands with his dog, commenting on the Occupy Wall Street movement with a sign saying 'I am so angry I made a sign'.  It may not hit everyone's funny bone but it hit mine spot on!  The man is flat out my kind of people!

Without social media none of this would have happened.  It can't replace reality nor should it, but if it can fill an empty place in my heart it can't be all bad.

So to Jub Jub and Stew and everyone around you that join to warm my little corner of the world.  Thanks.  Only one thing could make it better.  That someday our paths should cross. One never knows.

I'm No Pigeon!

Yesterday morning I was looking out the window toward our pond garden when I saw what appeared to be a rather large bird.

Due to hawks in the area, our song birds are non-existent this summer so I was wondering if our neighborhood Cooper's Hawk was getting exceedingly bold.

My eyes, even with my glasses, aren't quite what they used to be so I got a small pair of binoculars and had a look.  Good heavens, it was a pigeon!

I went on about my chores for a time then looked again.  It was still there.  My supposition was that it was injured and I so informed Hub.  "Just let him be for awhile and see what happens," said he.

Lunch time and it was still there. I called a local vet that I had heard has a person on staff with experience with birds.  Sixty dollars to look at it I was told.  I wasn't even sure I could corral it so I let things be.

 After I had come home from an appointment Hub informed me my bird was gone.  I looked around quite thoroughly and figured it had regained its senses or whatever had been bothering it and had indeed moved on.

Noon today I went out to feed the pond fish and there was my pigeon.  Quite tame, it never spooked as I approached. There were bands on both its legs.

I remembered our friend who had the kennel where we boarded Bacchus raised racing pigeons so I called him and told him about the bands.  "It could be one of mine", he said and within the hour was at our door with net and crate.  Of course pigeon was long gone.

Leaving crate and net just in case he returned home and we went about our business.  Later I went to re-pot some plants and heard a cooing.  Where was he?  Sitting on the rolled up window shade on our deck which it had well decorated.  We played tag for a bit and finally I managed to get the net over it  long enough to gather it into my hands and into the crate.

Off to the kennel I went.  It wasn't his bird.  It was a sorely depleted racing bird from perhaps as far away as Boise, the information was on the bands.  "Don't you want to keep him?" my friend asked.  "They usually don't want an errant bird back."

We figured it might have gotten off course during a trial run in a wind storm we had a few nights before and it ended up in our yard.  Lots of seeds from the grasses and trees and lots of water from the pond and a pigeon for a sad story living at the address.

Sorry, I just can't take on a pigeon even though I rather liked this guy. It was sweet tempered, it's feathers soft and silky and it's cooing infectious.

My friend has promised to try to find where it belonged or, if healthy, perhaps keep it.  I hope.  I miss the song birds of summer but I'd not like the pigeon to suffer the same fate even though it's just a pigeon.

I know hawks have to eat too, but not in my yard  - and not my pigeon!

Maybe ALL Religions Need Scrutiny

When I saw the headline  'Jewish court sentences dog to death by stoning', I did a double take. I know Orthodox Jews live in a world of which I have no knowledge.  I didn't realize they also live in a different century and have beliefs that could certainly use some reinterpretation.

One wouldn't think a dog wandering into a court room, even a large one, would frighten adults.  But apparently one did.  Not that he was threatening or anything, but because he was a dog!

It seems that by Jewish tradition a dog is impure.  Not being able to get the dog to budge, one of the judges recalled a curse they had bestowed on a secular judge two decades prior because he insulted them.  They remanded his spirit into the body of a dog.  This one?

His spirit must pass from dog to dog because few live to be twenty years old and if they do they aren't likely to wreck havoc I wouldn't think.  Or whatever else the judges thought he might do.

Of course by now they were all worked up so one of the judges sentenced the poor dog to death.  By stoning.  By children.

Fortunately while all this was going on the dog went on his way.  Smart dog.

It just goes to show it isn't only Islam that harbors those with radical interpretations of their religion!  But having children stone a dog to death?  That they were even capable of thinking of that gives me the chills!

Vets Lose Their Pets Too

I weaned myself from that infernal Facebook zoo game last night with the express purpose of visiting the pages of my friends. Most are far better at posting on them than I am. A one sentence snippet of what I'm cooking for dinner doesn't strike me as being of much interest to anyone - so I play zoo.

I should check the pages of my friends more often though. Good, bad or indifferent, there is usually news. Last night it was bad. Both Bacchus's local vet and his cardiologist have both lost "kids" of their own in recent weeks. I'd not met any of the dogs but I found myself tearing up anyway. I know their Moms.

It got me to thinking about what wonderful, special people my veterinarians have been. I can't think of a one that I had a long term relation with that didn't develop into a first name basis. I treasured those who seemed to love my dogs as much as I did. Of course they didn't, not on the same level. It was my dog, not theirs. Empathy seems to come naturally to them, even though they see sick animals day in and day out and must harden to the losses that inevitably occur. It's that they love animals, pure and simple.

I don't know of one who didn't have pets of their own knowing full well that they too would one day lose them. Lucky dogs - and cats, horses, fish, mice, birds - whatever. They received the very best care in the world.

As the person belonging to my dogs, I had the responsibility for their well being and quality of life. We always sought the best vets we could find and in turn placed our trust in them. Sometimes it's easy to forget they too are people like me with the same sense of responsibility, the same fears, the same emotional range. What they have that I don't is the expertise to do more than I could.

I know that both these ladies did everything possible for their dogs. And they agonized, just as I did with Bacchus. This time I had the empathy because I still bear the pain of loss. As bad as it remains, I know Bacchus had the best care we could give him because of the dedication and guidance of both these professionals.

I just hope they know they are the best and nothing better could have been done for theirs than they gave. It has to be a question that occurs, a question that penetrates grief. Rest easy ladies. Your "kids" had the best Moms in the world. They surely knew it. You need to know it too ~ and believe it.

Animals At Risk In Their Own Home!

I hate to say I told you so, but I did. Often. Before legislation passed allowing people to carry guns in our National Parks. My fear was the animals, and at some point other humans, will be at risk of being shot.

I was right. Friday a grizzly was shot and killed by hikers in Denali National Park. By a .45 caliber semi-automatic pistol.

According to the law you are allowed to carry them but not discharge them. What kind of law is that? Anyone feeling threatened, justified or not is likely to pull the gun and use it as easily as the police taser old ladies confined to bed!

That has happened too. In Glacier a woman discharged a .357 magnum into the ground to frighten off what she deemed an aggressive white tail deer. Being attracted to salt including that in human sweat, the deer probably only wanted a taste! She was given a warning because she wasn't facing imminent danger.

It's nearly July. Vacation season is in full swing. The National Parks, which I believe are a haven for wild life, will be full of enthusiastic people wanting to experience the adventure. Great scenery. Exhilarating fresh air. Wild life in their natural setting.

Somehow guns on the hips of these people is offensive to me. It encourages carelessness. They don't have to bother knowing why a deer might be aggressive or that there may be better ways to avoid a confrontation with a bear when you've but heard a rustle in the bushes!

The estimated population of bears in that part of the park is between 300 and 350. Now there is one less. The incident is being investigated. I just hope it wasn't a female trying to protect her cubs.

What a bad piece of legislation. I absolutely dread the body count. Deer, bears. Rabbits may be next. They rustle the bushes too.

A Ray Of Sunshine

The weather has been gray, wet and chilly. I ache more and my mood reflects it. Gray. The news has been so black (no pun intended about oil) I've not felt like commenting on it. Even the birds around here are gray. Or brown. Except the occasional Meadowlark or Western Bluebird. Even they aren't as colorful as their eastern cousins.

I miss having my dear old Bacchus to dote on so I've been taking particular delight with the onslaught of baby birds. The shrubs surrounding our house have become an entire neighborhood for them. At last count I found two Blackbird nests and one Robin's all full of new borns. There was the Killdeer nest with young a few weeks back. I take my life in my hands from protective parents when I get anywhere near. Lawn mowing has become quite a challenge. But you know what? They too are, well, gray.

So imagine my delight this morning as I looked out the window to see if the rain had eased enough to check on the plants in my green house. A rustle of wings and swaying of branches in a willow and a small bird appeared. Then another. And they weren't gray! They were brilliant. They were beautiful. I rushed to the den and dug out my bird book and hurried through the pages.

Western Tanagers. Oh, how I hope they become part of the 'hood!

Animal Abuse

Our pets. How we love them no matter what size, color,or breed. We become addicted to their presence because it is filled with nothing but good.

That's why it's so disturbing to hear of the recent spate of poisonings around the Spokane and Coeur d'Alene area. It even touched one of our local bloggers. I think back to how painful it was watching the decline of Bacchus. But it was a disease and old age. Something I wasn't ready for but not unexpected. But poisoning! How utterly horrible! Just this morning there was another report of poisonings downstate a bit. Thirteen since January! What kind of people are roaming about out there?

There is an effort being made to find out who these people are and to keep track of them once caught. An animal abuse registry much like the one for sex offenders. California has legislation pending. Tenneessee, Louisiana and New York are considering the same. What a great idea. After all, animal abusers often do not stop with animals! One California legislator, state Senator Bob Huff, thinks it's overkill to put animal abuse on a par with child abuse. I think he's wrong. Abuse is abuse.

He also states that the fines imposed for such crimes wouldn't generate enough revenue to cover the costs of the registry. While there are abuse sites being run by private citizens, a national data base would be far more effective!

So many people have told us, since we have no children, the dogs were our kids. Well, I'll accept that premise for the likes of Mr. Huff!

As for the fines not being enough to support it? Well, here's a thought. Make fines stiff enough so that they do! Sheesh.

Mother's Day A Week Early

With spring forcing itself out of oblivion, I am energized when I can get out in the yard. One of the rites of spring I most enjoy is watching the Killdeer go through their mating ritual and hatch their first batch of eggs.

When they protect their nest they can be ferocious! They stare you straight in the eye, screaming their heads off, and seem 20,000 feet tall. Such happened to me this afternoon. I immediately stopped the tractor to search for the nest. They are tremendously well camoflaged and difficult to find but I was lucky. Those hatchlings couldn't be more than a few hours old.

It's enough to make you forget, for one brief shining moment, all the ugliness in the world!

Being A Judge Does Not Equate With Good Judgement

I have to wonder why a law that was perfectly good ten years ago is no longer so today. According to the Supreme Court.

The ten year old law banned the sale of videos that graphically depicted the torture and cruel death of small animals. Kittens, rabbits, hamsters. Stomped to death by women often wearing high heeled shoes. All for the sexual gratification of those as sick as those who make them. It didn't go far enough. It should have banned the making of these videos and punishment by the same means of those participants whether they made them or watched them!

How does the Supreme Court figure into this? They voted 8 to 1 (let's hear a huge cheer for Justice Alito) that the ban infringed on freedom of speech. Let's see. You can't use the N word because it's considered a hate crime. You can spew your hatred at burials of military casualties even though they had no connection to what you hate! The Supremes are still deciding this one. Well, let hate crimes rule over free speech for those who cannot speak! Hatred of innocent animals! My God, what kind of people are these? All of them!

It's okay because it might infringe on hunting videos? The new legislation will exempt them. In my view they are hardly in the same category nor sold for the same purpose! You know what isn't included? Dog fighting videos! They fit in with the former rather than the latter in my opinion and deserve the most harsh of penalties. Punishment, however, remains punishment light. A fine and up to five years in prison for selling the videos. Are there not a lot of other violations here? By the film makers and worse, those who actually do the killing? Are there no animal cruelty laws?

Maybe it's time to re-examine the penalties for such outrages and stiffen them to a fare-thee-well. Maybe that would help discourage those who make and sell them and buy them. But, then again, perhaps not. It's probably done int the murky world of underground black markets.

All I can say is I hope one never crosses my path. Even at my old age I can guarantee my adrenaline would be flowing to the extent I could still take an eye for an eye. Just like in the video. In high heels. I may hobble but I can still wear 'em!

Fall Guys

It never ceases to amaze me what studies are being done. One would think some common sense and caution would suffice, foregoing the need. However, according to Live Science , one such study has been done finding our household pets are the largest cause of injuries related to falls! Dogs are the most dangerous. Women and children the biggest victims. This, of course, is due to their size and comparative lack of strength in comparison to dogs.

It doesn't say if the same holds true with cats though the difference is that one is injured more often in chasing a cat where with a dog it's tripping over them!

Now, I have to tell you, I've never, ever been hurt by living with dogs. We've had six over the years and no small bundle of love at that. Four were Saint Bernards, two were Newf mixes. One could argue they would be difficult to miss, having a rather large presence no matter where they may be. True. But on occasion I'd be called upon to step over one at the exact same time he chose to rise. Being limber is an asset.

The article warns us to watch out for toys and food bowls. It makes me wonder what the statistics are for emergency room visits from falling over children's toys. Well, you pick them up. So?? And the food bowl? I don't know. We picked it up too and washed it. Sure, there was always a water dish but it was always in the same place and not a place one would easily trip over it.

At least the people doing the study had the good sense to make a backhanded caveat, "Certainly pets are wonderful and have many benefits, so we're not saying anything about not having pets." Right.

Some of the people cited in the study probably shouldn't have pets. Tripped while crossing the street with dog. Would they have tripped anyway? Fainted while training her dog. That's the dog's fault? Walking dog and fell up steps. It seems there is an issue of clumsiness at play here!

Cats - well if you know they like to be under foot watch out for them. No brainer. As for dogs, with all the breeds in varying sizes, all I can say is get one that is size appropriate! They all provide you with the same thing you can fall for safely. Unconditional love.

A Lousy Life For A Dog!

When I opened Facebook this afternoon, I found a request to become a Fan of the Kootenai County Dog Park Association. Of course I did.

I remember well the fun Bacchus and I had when we still lived in Rochester, New York. He was just a puppy then and his favorite playmates were the Labs who played fetch in the river. I more often than not went home with a very soggy doggy.

Other dogs have a more noble calling than Bacchus did in being my constant companion for nearly ten years. Some, like Gunner, are called to duty for their country. They can suffer the same fate of our soldiers though their job is to minimize it. Especially when it comes to road side bombs that they are trained to sniff out.

Many are Labs and they're very good at what they do. Though a far cry from going hunting with their human buddies, it's a game for them. Except for Gunner. He's suffering from PTSD. A dog? Why not?

Like the humans who train them, they're on the front lines of the war. If they fail and are not themselves killed, they witness all sorts of horror. Just like their human companions.

We know what it does to the men. They live with memories that sometimes last a lifetime. They can have recurring nightmares. They can be spooked by loud noises; become recluses . Some never recover. Why not a dog? They say they pick up on our moods, our fears, why not the horrors of war?

Gunner will not be asked to sniff out more bombs. It's tough enough to get him to leave the safety of his kennel. His handler is hoping he can can help Gunner shed enough of his demons to just be a good pet.

It's the first time since we lost Bacchus the Hub was moved to comment, "I don't really want another dog but I'd take Gunner." Unfortunately the sounds from the gun club down near the airport are probably enough to spook him.

Wishful thinking aside, somehow I feel the wars have gone on way too long when even the dogs suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD, for our furry friends, should be an acronym for Pats, Treats and Snuggles for Dogs!

Lucky Dog!

Most all of us who have dogs love them with all our hearts. There are times, however, when love is not enough.

Since the end of November there has been an ad running in the local paper asking for information about, or the return of, Remington, a three year old black lab.

It has appeared so often the paper did a story on the owner. In it he waxed nostalgic about how he missed his buddy, how they had bonded, how empty his bed was without him pressing his legs against his back. He went on to remember their hunting trips and how he hopped into the back of his pick up, how he'd go out at night and always came back.

Whoa. Let's back up here. One, it's against the law for a dog to run loose in this county. For many good reasons including the heartache of his not returning. What grabbed my attention, however, was the comment about the pick up.

Having seen a dog in the middle of a Los Angeles freeway one time, I've never been able to shed the image. Fortunately cars behind me saw cars swerving to miss it and were able to slow traffic enough to rescue the pooch. My guess is he fell out of a pick up.

You see it all the time. Some states have tethering laws, others do not. Even that isn't fool proof for a dog could actually hang himself.

This morning's paper told the story of a woman and her kids who witnessed a dog being dragged behind a truck. The driver had no idea. Even though in pursuit, the woman didn't catch the truck before the dog slipped his collar and they finally corralled him in a parking lot. We was alive, running on adrenalin, but his nails were gone and his feet worn down. The woman and her kids rushed him to the vet emergency clinic where he was successfully treated.

In a conversation with the owner, it was learned he "lost track" of the dog in Interstate 90 before exiting into city traffic. The woman didn't see him until they were several miles from that particular exit. One lucky dog. Maybe. He's home now and will recover. Hopefully never again to be allowed in the back of a an open pick up. Or be "lost track" of!!

Bacchus was truly spoiled. When he grew too tall for our Expedition, we got him a van. The picture shows how he travelled. Even at that we weren't totally conscientious because we did not secure him to his 'chaise'. Most of the time he slept on his blankets and didn't wander but if he wanted to stretch his legs he could.

I cringe every time I see a dog in a pick up. There are so many things that can cause a tumble. You see them in beating hot sun and pouring rain and snow. When we had occasion we had to take Bacchus in the pick up he had the entire back seat. He was cramped compared to the van but he was safe.

It's a practice that will probably never change but I sure wish it would. Dogs should be banned from the back of open pick ups. Full stop.

The next dog that suffers the fate of the golden retriever of which I write may not be so lucky. I would not like that on my conscience!

No Clydesdales?

The Super Bowl without the Clydesdales would be like...like...well, Budweiser without beer!

It was but a blip on the news yesterday but I did catch the part where you had to let Anheuser-Busch know if you objected. So ever diligent sleuth about all things important I cozied up with Google this morning to see what I could find.

Sure enough. The plan had been to scrap the Clydesdale ads in favor of edgier stuff. This is one instance media reporting did some good. The response from the announcement drew so many negative responses they've put up a Facebook page where you can vote for the spot they eliminated or two competing spots.

I would usually not join a 'fan' page for a one time participation but I really felt strongly about this!

I'm pretty ambivalent about the game itself this year. I'd like to see the Saints win because of their story, yet I really like Peyton Manning. It's a push. Maybe I'm leaning toward the Saints because the NFL is being stupid by making a fuss about the Who Dat slogan being their property. It shouldn't be nor should vendors trying to make a buck be intimidated by the NFL lawyers with cease and desist orders for making garments in the Saint's black and gold sporting the slogan. Sheesh. Get a life guys!

When I heard about the now foreign owned Anheuser Busch folks being just as stupid, I had to act. I joined. I voted. I expect "Fenced" will win.

The Clydesdale ad came in second last year. So what? Some things should just not be changed. The Clydesdale Super Bowl ads being one. If you feel as I do click the Facebook link and vote. There's enough edgy stuff out there already. Leave good old Americana tradition alone. It's bad enough Anheuser-Busch is no longer a part of it.

What A Concept!

Bacchus. He was an old boy when he left us. For a Saint Bernard. A few months short of ten. His disease took it's toll, aging him even more rapidly than had he been younger.

As Christmas rolls around, we find ourselves still missing him. There is an emptiness to the house. It's not quite the home it was when he was with us. Many friends encouraged us to get another dog. Others understood why we said no more. We're not so young any more either. We had two major concerns.

One was the pain. We've been through it six times. We don't want to go through it again. Especially since with Bacchus it was such an emotional roller coaster. I'm not sure I could survive another bout of anxiety that intense.

The second concern is what if our pet would out live us? We have no family to take him. What would become of him? What would the upheaval do to him?

Most of our friends, scattered throughout the country, are animal lovers who share our intensity of devotion. Yesterday we received a Christmas card from just such friends. They expressed their sorrow about our losing Bacchus and shared that they understood our thinking. They, however, have an alternative!

Living in the country, they have a collection of strays and mutts that become instant family. They also live not far from Texas A & M which, in conjunction with it's Vet Med school, has a retirement home for pet's who have lost their owners!

What a fantastic concept! They are not put up for adoption, they are just given a home for as long as necessary. They have shelter and albeit a new family and surroundings, one that will be consistent. They have medical care from the vet med school and 24/7 care from the students. They are not caged but allowed to roam. Like home.

I did a google search to see if there were other facilities of this sort and could find none. Not that there aren't any, but none were readily apparent. Someday, when money isn't so tight and good works can find funding once again, this is a concept I'd like to see blossom! It isn't inexpensive, but isn't beyond budgeting. It may just be the comfort zone seniors need in order to have pets during their later years.

What about us? I doubt it. It's a decision for the two of us and being at odds doesn't help. You see, it's the pain.