Could You Eat Him?

Sometimes you just have to wonder! Did you know that it is legal to eat man's best friend in 44 states? I didn't either. Kind of makes you wonder why the remaining states have declared it otherwise!

One of my more consistent themes in writing this blog is the disconnect between our culture and those of countries into which we try to insinuate our own. It usually has to do with human rights. Like stoning people to death or lashing them to serve as an example. I hadn't really given their culinary peculiarities much thought until recently. There has been a spate of articles suggesting we ought to consider having pets we can at some point in time consume in order to neutralize their carbon footprint. I don't care if it's a cat or a rat, if it's a pet I couldn't eat it.

I realize that what we consider domestic pets are often eaten by people of other cultures and have been since the beginning of time. I guess one man's delicacy is another's heartburn. Like sheep eyeballs. If I didn't know what I was eating, would I consider it a delicacy? I have no idea and hope never to find out. The closest I've come to culinary bravery was pig snout while in France. I doubt I'll ever rid myself of the image of those nostrils staring up at me from a daintily garnished bed of greens!

Those of you who follow me know I'm a huge softy when it comes to animal welfare. That being said, I have to tell you I was shocked to see the following article in today's Wall Street Journal , Let Them Eat Dog - A modest proposal for tossing Fido in the oven. Yikes!

Halloween Day! The time of year humane societies forbid the adoption of black cats! Here's an article that not only goes into vivid depictions of how dogs have been consumed past and present, but even a recipe!

Having read through all the unsettling descriptions, the summation points out that the prospect of consuming Fido is likely repulsive to everyone reading the article and that's what's most important.

Perhaps. I have to question the timing, number one, and any socially redeeming reason for the article in the first place, number two! I guess the saving grace, and don't misconstrue "grace", is that not a lot of strung out types looking for new horrors to explore on Halloween are likely to be reading the Wall Street Journal. Nor this post. I hope.

Animal Cruelty Of A Different Sort

Have you ever known a kid that at one time or another during their childhood they didn't want a horse? Such is the case of a local young man who has worked and saved since he was thirteen to make that dream come true. With the help of his family he scrounged their property to find material for fencing and scoured Craig's List looking for bargains. He got a barn built, tack and enough money saved to buy his dream. All in two years. That's quite an accomplishment.

He found his horse through an ad in the local Nickel Saver, you know, those little free papers that are mostly classifieds. He no sooner saw the well muscled chestnut and he knew that was the horse for him.

The problem is, the horse has a rare and apparently incurable disease. Hyperkalemic periodic paralysis.

" Hyperkalemic periodic paralysis, better known in the horse world as HYPP, can be a devastating disease. There are horses that have it that never show a symptom a day in their life, and horses that have repeated severe episodes, to the point that their owners choose to humanely euthanize them instead of watching them suffer."

It consists of an inability to regulate electrolytes such as sodium, chloride and potassium. The electrolyte imbalance in the blood causes impaired nerve function that can lead to muscle tremors and eventually paralysis.

The young man is devastated. Just to control the disease requires untold amounts on attention, monitoring and specific feeding regimens. Difficult, to say the least, for a 15 year old, especially with the school year just beginning. Paying for treatment is nigh on to impossible. More than likely the horse will have to be euthanized. A tough choice when a pet is like family.

My heart bleeds for this young man. I know how difficult the regimen was with Bacchus and the emotional toll it took. I'm far from fifteen.

The seller would not take the horse back. He swears the horse never showed any indication of the disease. I know that's a possibility but it seems doubtful to me that a twelve year old horse just happened to start showing symptoms just after this young man shelled out his money.

One can only imagine the treatment the horse received by his previous owner! I may be making an incorrect assumption but the story is suspect.

This, too, is animal cruelty. Setting aside the life the horse may have had, the owner wanted to get rid of him rather than care for him. Rather than selling him to someone who might be willing and able to care for the horse, or have it euthanized himself, he sold it to an unsuspecting kid who just wanted a horse of his own.

A few days ago my veterinarian friend in New Zealand sent me a link to Paw Justice, a movement to make people aware of the connection between animal abuse and child abuse.

It would seem we have an example of it right here. Abuse isn't necessarily physical.

Animal Abuse Getting A Pass In Spokane?

If you walked past a parked car and saw a little fellow like the one pictured, could you break into that car, pull the dog out and throw him against a wall just for sport?

Well, that's what happened in Spokane this past June 22. A Shih Tzu, Cocoa Butter, was watching the world go by from the comfort of her car while her people were in a downtown mall watching a movie. A couple of people approached the car, broke into it, pulled the dog out and threw her, by her leash, against the wall of City Hall and left her for dead. She nearly was.

Fortunately the incident was caught on surveillance cameras and the hunt began for an itinerant young man. Weeks passed without a trace even though substantial reward money was being offered. Meanwhile the owners of Cocoa Butter waited with baited breath to see if their pet would pull through. Money poured in for the expenses and slowly she inched back to life. She sustained severe nerve damage which remains. The degree of normality to be achieved as of now has yet to be determined.

The public outrage was palpable. Hub and I had our opinions as to what should be done when the man was caught and it wouldn't have been pleasant. Many felt the same. Animal lovers all! But it shouldn't be a requirement for such mindless violence.

Finally, the man turned up. He turned himself into the police and unbelievably he was let go because the prosecutor had not filed charges! Even worse the police hadn't asked for any to be filed! Why? Had it been one of their own dogs would they have been so complacent?

The alleged abuser, his attorney reminds us, is presumed innocent until proven otherwise. Well, it was caught on surveillance tape. You'd think that would be all the proof needed, but then it is Spokane and it is government.

Cry Wolf!

Wolves, one of the most beautiful and despised species of wild life in the west. What a shame. Barely off the endangered species list, they are now to be hunted and killed.

Tags went on sale this past week. The harvest, state wide is aimed at 220 out of a population of 1000. One thousand tags were sold the first day. Fish and Game officials estimate as many 70,000 hunters will get wolf tags. Wow. What a controversy this has stirred up and with good reason. Animal rights groups think it's unnecessary slaughter and wildlife management groups feel it's necessary. I think each side has valid points.

I remember sitting in the bar of the Wort Hotel in Jackson, Wyoming with Hub on a Saturday night. Next to us was a duded up cowboy in town for some fun. A a table near by sat another. They were range riders, men who live in and roam the far reaches of ranches to watch over the herds. They started talking about a wolf problem that was plaguing local ranches. Their descriptions were disturbingly vivid, for our benefit, I'm sure. Yet I understand. Ranchers have thousands of dollars tied up in cattle or sheep and their losses go far beyond a kill; it's the market value of that kill.

Another issue, more difficult to judge is what they do to the elk and deer populations in the wild. If they are decimating those herds it is of concern. If it means trophy hunters have less to choose from, I could care less.

The Loop by Nicholas Evans, a one time New York Times best seller, sums up the issue from both points of view in a great novel. If you have interest in the subject, it's worth a read.

A few years ago when I was doing a "Flat Jessie" project for my great niece, I took her paper self visit Wolf People , an organization dedicated to educating people about these beautiful animals. While we visited their retail outlet where they rotate wolves from their pack for the public to get a glimpse, they also have a compound with a pack for study purposes. It's worth the visit for educating oneself.

What worries me is the number. Seventy thousand potential hunters looking for 220 wolves. You don't eat wolf. It strikes me as being blood lust. Can it be controlled out in the wild or are far more wolves going to be taken. Yes, they are not the easiest of prey to locate, but with 70,000 hunters off roading through the wilderness, they will be found.

On the other hand, people's livelihoods can be decimated by roving packs. There is no easy answer. How would those suffering losses be adequately compensated and by whom?

I only wish there were a way to control them other than killing them.

Game Face?

We knew it was going to happen. NFL commissioner Roger Goodell has reinstated Michael Vick. Yes, there are conditions he must meet, yet still...

Okay, I'm not having a good day. Bacchus is having a terrible day; something he hasn't had in quite awhile and I'm worried sick. That being the case, this news is even more difficult to digest.

I was listening to the news as the story broke and was appalled at the rationales being given. One anchor, a female no less, said she was an animal lover, but what would we rather have, Vick getting a second chance or going on welfare? Please. That seemed to be the prevailing attitude. Now why would a big strapping guy like Michael Vick have to go on welfare? He can work. He just wouldn't have the earning power he had before.

Of course an NFL team would have to take a chance on him. There is no doubt in my mind one will. I decided to do a little investigating to see what financial sacrifice he might have to endure. The NFL team with the lowest payroll is the Arizona Cardinals. Not that they would want him, but this would be Vick's worse case scenario and would go up with any other team. Their starting quarterback, Kurt Warner , will make $6,006,240 this year.

It is unlikely Vick would land a starting job. Arizona's number two, Matt Leinart, pulls down a cool $2,256,240. Well, let's be realistic. He'd be more apt to get the third slot. Brian St. Pierre draws $465,000. To most of us that is not chump change!

One thing I think should be demanded of Vick. That he be required to reimburse the folks at Best Friends Animal Society who have spent untold hours rehabilitating and caring for his dogs.

Michael Vick's sentence was 23 months. They are saying he has paid his debt to society. He has yet to pay his debt to those dogs. That's how I feel as I fight for the life of my dog!

Dog Days

With temperatures hovering in the high 80s to mid 90s, it's the dog days of summer as far as I'm concerned!

We do what needs to be done early. Except for Bacchus. He pretty much goes with the flow. His routine is quite consistent. Hub rises at 4:30. I refuse. It's uncivilized! Anyway, he takes Bacchus out with him to pick up the morning papers. Bacchus gets his morning grass angel fix and all the other first thing in the morning stuff. Then back in. Hub starts the papers and has his first cup of coffee. When it's time for his second, Bacchus gets his first batch of pills, between 5 and 5:30, then goes out where the grass is cool and damp and craters.

This is about the time I stagger in, get my coffee, read the papers, shower, eat breakfast and depending on how speedy I am, sometimes get the bed made and the dishes done before 8 which is time for for the second batch of pills and first yogurt.

Usually my old boy comes right in but sometimes he decides he's going to jerk my chain a bit. I don't mind. We always get it done.

It has been just a shade over six months since he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. The trials we've endured have sometimes seemed epic. It does show, however, patience and following the doctor's instruction can pay off. We weaned him from his junk food diet from the early days. He is now back on dog food. Canned and kibble. The improvement in his condition is unbelievable but it took a lot of patience and trial and error.

The reward, other than still having ole fuzzy face with us, is that he's more like an old dog who happens to be sick than a sick dog who happens to be old.

How sweet it is!

Camel's Milk

Well, here we are. Day two of my promise to stay away from politics for awhile. At least in a sense.

I'm finding as I take a step back, some realities about our world become more focused. For instance, I'm finding, just like the health care reform issue that's raging, everyone is talking, shouting and screaming yet no one is listening, what's more, hearing.

That brings me to my topic for today. Camel's milk. According to the Wall Street Journal Camel's milk is going to be the next rage in health food. In some parts of the world it already is and an enterprising lady from North Carolina wants to bring it to the states. Big time. Why? It tastes good and it's better for you than cow's milk.

It is not only more nutritious than cow's milk, it's said to be an aphrodisiac, and help everything from diabetes to autism. The pharmas are going to hate it! Especially the makers of Cialis unless they consider filling those bathtubs with milk! Then the beauty industry, too, will hate them!

There is a market for Camel milk in the states. The entrepreneur, Millie Hinkle, gets nearly daily calls from a Somali shop keeper in Minneapolis who tells her he has at least 70,000 Somalian customers who would buy it immediately. Wow. One shop keeper with 70,000 customers! Great.

There are always problems with new ventures. Ms. Hinkle's main one would be the lack of camels on U.S. soil. There are a few around outside of zoos and circuses but they aren't exactly the ideal backyard pet. They aren't called ships of the desert for no reason. They're as big as one! There are risk factors too. It's said they can be ticklish around the udder and unless whoever is doing the milking is experienced, he may just find his subject laying down mid-milking. That could slow what is already a laborious task.

The United Nations along with many European, Asian and Middle-Eastern countries are already studying ways of increasing camels and the production of their milk. Biomedical research is being done for development of drugs based on antibodies found in camels called nanobodies. These wondrous creatures are a treasure trove, indeed! It would be fun to see pastures full of camels dotting the hillsides. They have a charm about them if you don't mind their spitting in your face should you get too close.

But whoa! Wait a minute. This is where the fact that everyone is talking, planning and researching and no one is listening comes in. Camels, just like cows and goats and llamas, and other produce methane! They are larger than cows. More methane? Now, here's where two diverse sides need to get together. They need to weigh whether a more healthy product that is a staple in a world wide diet, milk, is more important than the amount of methane that would enter the atmosphere as herds increase.

Whoops!

This Is "Bull"!

Why is it that dog fighting and cock fighting are considered cruel, inhumane sport yet bull fighting with the insane ritual of "running with the bulls" in Pamplona remains so popular in Spain?

It brings out a side of me that is not pleasant. This year a man was killed and so far three more have been hospitalized. I cheer for the bulls. And I seethe with anger at the inhumanity of it. For it is humans who allow it, partake in it and cheer it.

It says little about the intellect of those who participate - trying to out run a herd of bulls down narrow confining streets. There are always vivid descriptions of the ghastly injuries that either kill or maim. Like being gored in the neck, heart and lungs.

It is, however, nothing compared to what happens to the bulls. It's not sport. It's brutal blood lust. It doesn't even pit bull against bull. It pits man, with his brain, such as it is, against a dumb animal. The bull is poked and prodded and bled by men on horseback until the mighty matador faces a hurting, confused, enraged animal to deliver the death blow. What kind of "sport" is that? What kind of pleasure can possibly be derived from witnessing it? A show of skill? On a mortally wounded animal?

It's bad enough when man shows his capability for inhumanity against his own as we are too often privy to in parts of Africa and the Middle East. What does it say about the psyche of man when this "sport" is the second most popular in a Western country thought to be a bastion of civilization? This is not a bunch of thugs betting on dogs out in the wilds. This is organized in huge public arenas followed by celebratory partying.

It makes me want to meter out justice in kind to those who participate. On the other hand, they do it themselves to an extent by running with those bulls. Every time one is gored oar killed, that is justice. It's too bad it's not proportionate to the number of bulls ultimately killed and what they suffer.

People Come And People Go

Funny. Today there is little on television other than the Michael Jackson memorial. Hundreds of thousands of people are saying goodbye to someone they've never met. Yet they grieve inconsolably.

Yesterday was my turn to grieve. I was losing a person who has come to mean a great deal to me. Dr. Sara Bordelon. Bacchus's cardiologist. She has finished her residency at Washington State, taken her boards and is off to the next adventure in her young life. Private practice in Florida. She will have great success. As Dr. Prince once said of her, "She's on it!"

From that first wintry night back in January when we rushed Bacchus to the clinic with congestive heart failure, I knew that if anything could be done she would come up with it. Such was the level of her confidence and her ability to convey it. During the intervening months she fielded e-mails and phone calls from a distraught pet owner with the utmost of grace, assurances and truths. The visits every month were much the same.

As time passed and Bacchus's inundated system began to adjust to the medications I adjusted to the situation. Hub was a great help in my keeping sane. In his calm and measured way he made me understand that what ever will be will be. I'm no longer in a panic. I know what the outcome will be, just not when. I also know that we've given him many additional good months thanks to the skill of Dr. Bordelon. That he's more an old dog who happens to be sick than a sick dog that happens to be old is testimony to that.

When discussing it yesterday she said, "That's what we wanted, isn't it." Indeed.

The photo? I wanted to give her a token of our appreciation and to wish her well. I had carved a Cougar for a project that has been shelved. Since Washington State's mascot is a Cougar I knew she had to have it. All those winter months she would appear with a long pink scarf peeking out from under her lab coat. Being from Louisiana, she was always cold. So I adorned said Cougar with a scarf of it's own and set it on the dining room table for Bacchus's approval. Eh. Sort of silly but okay.

As I sit here writing this my mind drifts back to the Jackson hoopla and thinking how much impact an individual can have on your life. She hasn't died; she's just moving on. She didn't entertain me; she gave life to a dog that I love. We'll stay in touch; I can bounce things off of her if I feel the need. But it won't be the same. I will miss her. The sadness I feel is at least as deep as those mourning Jackson. Such is the nature of a lifeline. The depth of feeling has been earned.

One Man's Gas Guzzler Is Another's Sacred Cow!

As I was reading the paper this morning I found an article that pointed out a misconception I had about cows and the gas they produce. Here I thought it was what was expelled from their hind end that was problematic. But, no. It's their belching!

The article tells us this belching causes the diary industry it's biggest problem when it comes to their contribution to global warming. That they contribute a mere 2% of the total doesn't seem to be of any consolation. The total figure includes growing the feed for the cows along with the processing and delivery of milk. It's a rather vicious circle, don't you think? Perhaps if we would quit eating yogurt and butter and drinking milk the problem could easily be solved. No need for dairy cows. But, no.

Research is under way to develop grasses that produce less gas in the cows' systems. The hope is to reduce the gas produced by 25% by 2020. If successful, the dairy industry would then only be responsible for .005% of our greenhouse gases. The bonus for the cows is a more glossy coat and fewer foot and stomach problems. I can understand the better coat. When we got Bacchus off his junk food diet, his coat, too, improved, as well as his stomach problems. I'm not sure where feet figure into the equation.

Now let's equate this to the cap and trade issue. It's basically where a cap is established for emissions. If your operation comes in beneath the cap, you can sell your excess credits to someone who has exceeded them. I never quite understood how this was beneficial since I see the emissions remaining the same while credits are being bandied about, but then I am not a student of the theory. In essence, I see it pointless if one group is trying to clean the environment by altering the food a cow eats while another is trying to save the non-productive of the species which requires feeding them whatever they can afford and is readily available!

My point here can be illustrated by another article I read this morning. This one in the Wall Street Journal telling of how enclaves of Hare Krishnas are putting together fund raising efforts to save cows who are no longer productive. You see cows are sacred to Hindus. They've calculated it takes around $1000 per year to feed a cow with an average lifespan of twenty years! That's a lot of adopt a cow programs! Especially when the majority of American consumers see cows in a somewhat different light. Candle light maybe. On a sizzling platter with a bottle of good red wine!

What to do! In browsing around I find that the research for these low gas grasses is ongoing and not expected to hit the market for several years. In the meantime, perhaps the Krishnas and the researchers should get together. The grasses need to be tested and the cows need to be fed. The Krishna cows would no longer be adding to the problem, instead helping solve it. They would be productive again. Their coats would be shiny, their stomachs and feet would be healthy. How better to treat a creature considered sacred?

There you are. Another Dogwalk solution!

Animal Fare

Saturday morning I was in the bathroom splinting my finger when I glanced out the window and saw a deer staring back! Wow. Our yard is fenced and Bacchus was out there somewhere. It was really cool.

I miss seeing deer in the yard. When we lived in Rochester we had them all day every day. I never tired of seeing them. Here, we live on the prairie and while deer are plentiful they like more cover than we have. She was back yesterday morning too though I'm sure she'll move on soon if she hasn't already. Oh, yeah, Bacchus was sound asleep at the end of the deck and never moved.

When he did move he was snorting and coughing so hard I was afraid he'd have a heart attack. Hub assured me it was just allergies. It continued all day, getting worse, and I was becoming quite concerned.

By Sunday morning I was so concerned I suggested calling WSU to see if it was really allergy or a combination of that and his heart. They had us bring him in and since it was a group of new people unfamiliar with Bacchus and his problems they were at a loss as to what to think. They sent us home to follow up with our vet. 200+ miles and several hours later I'd decided having a medical emergency on Sunday does not bode well. Fortunately Hub was correct; I was the one being paranoid.

Today we had the follow up x-rays done and his heart is fine. Well, let's just say his condition is stable. The allergy issue was just that. We're trying a new medication to see if it will make him more comfortable. Other than that Benedryl will do. I did get the "I told you so" when I got home.

All this got me to thinking, the last time I posted about visiting Ollie I alluded to a goose that had come in for treatment while I was there. My blogging friend Linda wanted to know about him so this one, once again, is for Linda! Uncle Raymond, the goose, is doing just fine. They pinned his leg and it's expected he'll make a full recovery.

Back to business as usual. My finger splint is history, and the stitches removed. With that in mind I'm ready to tackle Obama's health care plans! Maybe tomorrow.

Puppy Love

Every once in awhile I figure I've done something right. If I hadn't, I don't know how I rate the wonderful "animal" people that have passed through my life over the years. None have meant more to me than the ones I have now.

You met Ollie a couple of weeks ago when I took Bacchus to meet him. He belongs to one of the vet techs. Last week she and the staff had been talking about us and were wondering how we were doing. So she gave me a call. Just to touch base. And to deliver a standing invitation to drop by whenever I was in the area to visit with Ollie. These are special, caring people. There will be a time when I'm sure they'll see more of me than they'd like.

I had to go to the grocery store today and it's right around the corner. I called to see if they were busy and was told to come on in. I did. With camera in hand. The proud Mom doesn't have a camera and you know parents need pictures of their kids. So every once in awhile I'll bop in and snap a few for her or take a short video. Today, still in my gardening clothes and looking like I have a death grip on him, I had my picture taken too.

When circumstances permit, like it's a bit cooler, I'll take Bacchus with me. He's still enjoying his outings and the interaction with one of his own! Dr. Prince came in from her lunch break while I was there. We talked about how full the cycle has become. What Ollie's Mom is going through with him, I'm repeating with my dear old man. Same issues, different ages. I revel and reminisce in her enthusiasm for the breed, comparing notes, answering questions and experiencing again the absolute joy of a new puppy.

I'm finding the experience fascinating, poignant and very, very special.

Preferred Camouflage

Some days it's good to get away from the tube and the computer and do something useful.

It's a beautiful spring day. The trees and shrubs are finally beginning to bud and the birds are morphing from mating season into parenting!

The Killdeer that have nested between our fence and the road have four new chicks. I always fear for them for they often get hit by cars which race by, the drivers paying no attention.

The ones in the back of our five acres tend to fare better. Hub is very conscientious. He had to get started on the mowing today before the field grass gets completely out of hand. Suddenly there was a clamor from the Killdeer that indicated he was in dangerous territory. They even woke up Bacchus who was snoozing in the shade while I was doing some planting.

As is the usual routine, Hub stopped the tractor, sought me out and sent me off to find the nest. Right. But I comply. For about 15 minutes I made my around a patch he had not yet mowed looking for the nest. It isn't easy to see! Of course, that's the idea!

But alas, I finally spotted four eggs nestled in a tiny bed of grass. Huge eggs considering they are small birds. I called to Hub to bring a flag and mark the area. He had missed them by a fraction of an inch.

It made my day.

Motherhood In All It's Glory

I remember back when I was arranging for care givers for my Mother. One lady said to me caring for the elderly was not so different from caring for babies. They were just bigger. I remember thinking my Mom would have been livid at that assessment.

The care giver had her point though. I've been giving a lot of thought to the practice of "mothering" these days. I don't have children, but I'm mothering never-the-less, with Bacchus. Our animals are the only ones we go full cycle with as a general rule. For humans, parents aren't supposed to outlive their children. Unfortunately, that isn't always the way. I understand that pain. Even if my experience has been with dogs. It is my reality.

We started with a bundle of fluff, albeit a large one, that you could watch grow on a daily basis. We struggled through potty training, teething, switching from baby food to adult food. We lived through the terrible twos to the teens all within two years. We enjoyed the antics and adventures of youth and the dignity that came with maturity. We nursed scrapes and scratches and runny noses and sticky stuff in fur and bug bites. And now we wake each morning wondering if the old grey head will rise once more. Full cycle.

Mother's Day is a designated day of appreciation for all of this.

Spring is the perfect time. I remember many years ago when I did publicity for a small zoo in Washington. Spring birthing season was the time of year to get the TV crews to come out and photograph the new born. I've been marvelling at the mating and nesting habits of our backyard birds. The broken wing act of the Killdeer and the ferocious in-your-face screeching when you get to close, to the bullying of the Magpies. We have them all. They're all wonderful, living creatures bringing life into this world and nurturing it until it's able to fend for itself.

A couple of weeks ago a friend sent me a link to a live feed of an eagle's nest. I've watched her sit the eggs, watched them hatch and watched her feed them. She fusses over them, warms them, it touches one's soul.

It's a female thing that spans species wherever and whatever they may be. It's who we are and what we are meant to do in the grand scheme of things, each in our own way.

Another video has been making the rounds. I've received it from several people. It's a couple of years old, has been edited to be a nature film and sums it up perfectly. Add your look to the three million who have already viewed it. Don't mute it, the track is part of the story. It's motherhood - in all it's glory.

Have You Hugged Your Hog Today?

Just yesterday I was complaining about the lack of hard news in newspapers. Today, I have to bring you proof positive of what should be the biggest non-story of the week and it's only Sunday!

First, I had to laugh at the picture I found when looking for a huggable "swine". What better than one hugging a little Chinese girl. Think Hong Kong, where the current Director General of the WHO, served as a civil servant. Think Hong Kong where masked police (I love the irony) were holding guests captive in their hotels because one guest had flu symptoms.

Now we're being told the pandemic is easing, people are on the mend. Take an aspirin, drink plenty of water and rest. Go ahead and have pork chops for dinner tonight.

Wait! Are Canadian pork chops safe? Hmmm. According to an AP story in today's Spokesman Review pigs on a Canadian farm may have been infected by.......a farmer!

The poor pigs can't win! The farmhand had been vacationing in Mexico and obviously came back with the bug. He's recovering nicely, no doubt after having taken his aspirin, water and rest. If no one panics the pigs should too recover. According to Slate, pig mortality rates from the flu are far lower than human.

I got to thinking we should treat our snouted friends with a bit more respect. After all, many tests are done on pigs before humans because of similarities between the species. How many of us have heart valves from pigs pulsing away in our chests? At times I am ashamed that I so love bacon and ham!

This is the time to put the media to the test. Slate tells us pigs get the flu much like we humans do - from sneezes and coughs from other pigs. They get a fever, cough, their eyes and noses run; they sneeze. They just plain don't feel good and are put in isolation where they'll recover in about a week with proper rest and hydration. Sound familiar? We could pop them an aspirin to speed up recovery but we really need to keep the farmhands out of the pen!

We are told the WHO insists there is no evidence pigs are passing the virus to humans or that eating pork products puts anyone at risk so basically this should be a non-story. That it made the paper, however, makes it a story. It will be interesting to see if it remains an AP filler story on page 5 or if it becomes headline news!

How's Old Fuzzy Face?

You may have noticed the lack of an update last week. I have gotten to the point where these weekly reports on his condition have become too difficult. He's still doing relatively well; he's eating, he's getting his meds and he still climbs onto my lap in the evenings to watch television. We don't walk so much any more.

He's slowing down. Heart problems aside, he's an old man and doesn't always feel like romping. So he sleeps. For those of you have been so kind and care about him, I'll keep you posted as to how he's doing. Whether or not there will be any more videos remains to be seen and the updates will no longer come every week. When things are going bad for him, I'm worse. Trying to mask anxiety is becoming too difficult.

Next week we go to WSU to have his monitor read once again and see if his meds need to be adjusted. Other than that we just serenely drift through our daily routine. A neighbor visited last Sunday and he nearly had another episode. We calmed him down but it took him time to recover. It took me longer. Therein lies the problem. The roller coaster ride is not one I handle well.

So Friday I'm off to a hand surgeon to see about getting a cyst removed from a finger on my "mouse" hand. It has had a spurt of growth and snags on everything. Yuck! I have to start taking better of myself to better care for the men in my life. For all they've both given me, it's the least I can do!

In lieu of my usual video of a raptor from WSU I've been alerted to this one. An eagle's nest in BC with live video. One egg has hatched, by the time you watch maybe both. It's heartwarming and beautiful. Bookmark it or whatever if you like this sort of thing and come back often.

Spring Has Sprung Bacchus!

Bacchus has had a good week. Even though he is eating well once again, we see that he is slowing down. What is to be attributed to heart disease versus old age is hard to differentiate. The combination is the difficult part with which we have to deal.

I've friends with dogs who are dealing with similar circumstances and we swap information constantly. The one thing we have in common is that we all realize that we're grasping at straws. I don't know how it will be with my friends, but I do know that at our age, Bacchus will be our last dog. That is why I cling to him so desperately for I will so miss him, his presence, my connection with him. We've had five before him. The loss of each has been excruciating. I don't think I have it within me to do it again.

...And You Wonder Why There Are Polish Jokes!

Every once in awhile even I get tired of the doom and gloom I always find so interesting and look for something a little inane on which to post. Today's one of those days.

When I read about this Polish politician I thought about how well he would fit in a lot of the governing bodies in our country. It would seem his city, Poznan, in western Poland invested huge sums of money in their local zoo to have the largest elephant house in Europe.

One of the residents, a 10 year old named Ninio, has shown no interest in the opposite sex. "We didn't pay 37 million zlotys (7.6 million pounds sterling or 11.21 U.S. dollars) for the largest elephant house in Europe to have a gay elephant live there!" he fumed.

Never mind the poor elephant isn't old enough to mate yet. He won't reach sexual maturity until he's 14 and even then he'll have to outdo the other bulls in the herd to win a lady's fancy!

I almost feel sorry for the outraged politician. We'll probably never know how Ninio makes out when he reaches maturity. I'd be willing to wager, however, those in the know may feel Councillor Grzes's lack of knowledge on the subject may render him somewhat impotent as a politician!

Tone Deaf Or Do They Just Not Care?

I'm happy and sad all at the same time. I'm happy that Malia and Shasha will finally have their long awaited puppy. I'm sad that it isn't a rescue dog or a "pound puppy". The caveat that the Portuguese Water Dog is one of a very few breeds that does not exacerbate allergies doesn't quite cut the muster with me. The main reason is that another being considered was a Labradoodle.

From the moment it became known the girls had been promised a puppy if they behaved well during the campaign there was a movement afoot for the First Family to adopt either a rescue dog or a pound puppy. Petitions were sent out by various animal welfare groups. I know I signed one I received from Best Friends , an organization we have supported for years. I even wrote a post as an open letter to the girls that was picked up by the Chicago Sun Times.

Pure breeds need homes too. I realize that. Bacchus is a pure breed and it's no secret I love him to pieces. With the Obama's however, this seems to be one more item in a list that's growing indicating they are either tone deaf or don't care. I haven't yet decided which.

One does not bow to a King. Especially a Saudi King. I've looked at the film from every angle available and I cannot see how it was not a bow. The Saudi's must have loved it. One does not touch the Queen. It doesn't matter if she touches you first and it doesn't matter that she was most gracious in letting it go rather than embarrassing the new first lady.

Now the puppy. A gift from Senator Edward Kennedy to whom Obama owes a great deal. In of itself that's fine, but I'd have a lot more respect for Obama if he had admitted that's why they chose the dog - it was a gift from a cherished friend. No spin.

Trying to soothe opinion by saying they plan to make a large contribution to the Humane Society suggests to me they know they've perhaps erred. While the contribution will be greatly appreciated, it isn't at all the same.

I'm beginning to realize that although Obama is far more articulate, with the aid of his ever present teleprompters, than his predecessor, and certainly well educated, I'm beginning to wonder if he's smart.

That also goes for those advising him.

A Gold Star Friday

It's raining today but there is nothing that can dampen my spirits. Bacchus had his monthly check up at WSU yesterday. He had an echo cardiogram and x-ray of his lungs. His reveal was read. His ears were scratched and he got lots of hugs. One of the techs brought him out to us. We waited patiently for his cardiologist. She was beaming as brightly as the sun that was shining outside the windows.

"He gets a gold star!" she grinned. The enlarged ventricles had not enlarged further, his respiration and pulse were as good as could be expected all things considered. His puffing that has worried me is from a lung ailment he has had for as long as we can remember - probably exacerbated because of where we live. His weight was holding steady. The heart is functioning well enough to keep everything else working. At least for the time being. I felt the tension fall away. Without a glass or two of wine!

We had our discussion about his eating habits - or lack thereof. He's developed a taste for grilled chicken, lost his taste for chuck roast (thank heavens), and developed a healthy taste for yogurt. As you can see!

Once again the cardiologist said to feed him anything he will eat, except grapes and of course chocolate. He will now get all the sausages he wants, rice, chicken or pork, beef, pasta, and real yogurt. None of that non-fat stuff that Mom and Dad have been sharing. The objective is to get some weight on him.

It's been nice having a really positive weekly update. I hope there will be a lot more but no matter, we'll take whatever we can get.



Last but not least I can't leave out the WSU raptors from our monthly visits. This week I met Gwen, a Screech Owl that had been hit by a car resulting in brain damage and partial blindness. I love how socialized these birds have become under the care they've received and consider it a privilege to get to see them up close and personal..