Category Archives: Just Life

I Feel Ya, Dawg

I Feel Ya, Dawg

I write about dogs a lot.  That’s not an apology, just an observation.  Oh, and a warning.  This is another dog story.

Before I can tell you my dog story, I have to tell you the back story.  You might want to grab a coffee or something.  Try to keep up.

Across the road from us is the Pit Bull House.  The Pit Bull House is inhabited by a couple that doesn’t get along well, and 2 related pit bulls (mother/son).  The Pit Bull House is way back from the road, with a metal gate that is supposed to keep people out.  It doesn’t work.  Cars come and go at all hours, usually for 3-5 minutes per trip.  The local deputies are not strangers to the Pit Bull House.  You get the picture.  (If you don’t get the picture, consider yourself sheltered, and count your blessings.)

The pit bulls themselves have a pen, which they are either released from or escape from on a very regular basis.  We met the first pit bull on the day we moved in, when Steve and Moose were playing with our new tether ball in the back yard.  Moose took an instant dislike to this dog, which is unusual for him, and Steve ran her back across the street.  She was a nervous dog, prone to growling and charging, but then turning and running.  Within a year we noticed she was pregnant, and the male dog is her now-grown pup.

Neither the humans nor the canines in my house have a comfortable feeling about these dogs.  A nervous, unsocialized dog is not one I wish to be around.  They’re dangerous.  Not because they’re pit bulls, mind you; because they have bad owners who didn’t raise them properly.  A dog that is uncomfortable around humans is a scary dog, indeed.

After the male pup grew up, the two pits officially became a pack, and became more brazen.  My 2 dogs regularly run them off of our lawn.  Moose knows to stop at our property line, but if I don’t reign in Echo, she will chase them right back to their front porch.  When there are children in my yard, the appearance of the pits is more frequent, and the anxiety from both the humans and the canines in my house is extremely amplified.  Twice I’ve been charged by the female after getting out of my car at night.  She continues to come closer, but so far still bolts at a firm “GO HOME” from me.

In my heart, I know it’s not going to end well for these dogs.  None of the neighbors in our little area are fans of the Pit Bull House or its occupants.

There are no bad dogs, just bad owners

There are no bad dogs, just bad owners

In the past couple of weeks, there seems to have been a break up of the humans in the Pit Bull House.  Lots of yelling, moving of furniture, coming and going.  Did I mention  yelling?  Lots of yelling.

OK, so now you have the back story.  Need a refill on your coffee before I get into the main story I want to tell you?  Here we go.

On Friday, I was working outside on the porch because it was gorgeous.  Moose and Echo were laying in the grass, soaking in the sun, in a state of lethargy only true porch dogs can muster.

The woman from the Pit Bull House pulled up to the closed and locked gate in front of the driveway.  My dogs raised their head but returned instantly to the “dead dog on the lawn” position.  The pits were giving their warning barks.  The woman appeared agitated about the locked gate, and was pacing with her cell phone, arguing loudly with whomever was on the other end of the conversation.  The pits, who apparently recognized the voice now, replaced the warning barks with whimpers and yips.

In a few minutes, the man from Pit Bull House came down the driveway.  Now they were yelling in earnest, and not on the phone.  My dogs were on alert, because they’re uncomfortable with loud angry voices, so I called them up on the porch with me and kept them in the “down” position. Eventually, the argument turned to the subject of the pit bulls, who were still whimpering.  She wanted to “just go see them” because the dogs “know I’m here”.  The man refused.  In a  verbal exchange with peaks and valleys, this was the peak.

An eery howl came from the Pit Bull House, followed by a second from the other dog.  The couple stopped yelling.  My dogs ignored my “down” and went to the edge of the porch.  As the howling continued, it was impossible to not realize that these were dogs in pain; if not physical, mental.  Even when not well raised or treated, dogs love their humans with everything they have.  These dogs had 2 humans that were obviously agitated, and they couldn’t get to them.  I immediately thought of children who try to break up arguments between their parents.

It was heartbreaking.

Then it got more heartbreaking.  Moose began to howl back, followed almost immediately by Echo.  Ears down, tails down; undeniable signs of unhappiness from my dogs.  I went and sat between my pups, scratching their necks in that sweet spot just under their ears, but they didn’t stop.  Moose gave me that “DO something” look, the same look I get when there’s a baby crying or someone is sick.

After a few minutes, the man from Pit Bull House went back up the driveway, and his dogs quieted.  Moose and Echo stayed on the porch, watching that driveway.  No more “dead dog” imitations for the rest of the afternoon.  Tomorrow, if the pit bulls come into our yard, Moose and Echo will chase them off; but on Friday, they were content with sharing their pain.

So, once again, my dogs taught me something.  Even if you don’t LIKE someone, can’t STAND someone, you can empathize with their struggles and their trauma.  Even if you have to come to blows with them again later on.  It’s humbling when my pets demonstrate humanity that I sometimes lack.

There’s No Such Thing As A Free Lunch….or a Free Dog

There’s No Such Thing As A Free Lunch….or a Free Dog

*climbs up on my soapbox*

I haven’t been on here for awhile.  A little creaky, but still comfy.

I love animals.  I have spent lots of time, energy,  and money to protect and defend all sorts of creatures.  I work with our local Humane Society, I share my home with rescued pets, and my veterinary expenses easily outpace my clothing budget 2 to 1.  I have a special place in my heart for dogs.  If you’ve shared any part of your life with a dog you’re “connected” to, you know what unconditional love is.  If you haven’t, well, I’m sorry.

I’m a pragmatic idealist.  I think every shelter dog deserves a forever home, and I also think there should be spay and neuter laws to cut down on the obscene numbers of unwanted pets.  It’s a simple concept, really.

Last week, hubby and I went to the local WalMart.  As we pulled in, we see a truck parked at the end of the lot, with a dog crate next to it, and a big handwritten poster board sign that said “English Mastiff Puppies”.  Oh, goodie!  I felt my temples begin to throb.  We decide to take a walk and take a look.

Have you priced English Mastiff puppies lately?  A good breeder will charge you around $1800 for show quality.  A good pet quality dog will run you close to $1000.  What’s the selling price of an English Mastiff in a WalMart parking lot?  A hundred bucks, cash.

Let me tell you about these puppies.  Then my rant shall begin in earnest.

There are 4, 2 males and 2 females.  They are totally lethargic, which is understandable since they’re in the sunlight with no shade and no water bowls.  They are 4 weeks old, which is much too young for a pup to be without its mother, who is nowhere in sight.  There are two extremely friendly women sitting in folding chairs near the crate o’ puppies.  We ask about the parents, and are told their “neighbor owns the mom and dad, and just asked us to sell the pups for him.”  Really?  I have had lots of neighbors in my lifetime, and lots of really close friends, too.  Not once has anyone ever asked me to take their litter of puppies down to the WalMart and sell them!  NOT ONE FRIEND, EVER!  I’m beginning to suspect that these nice ladies are either A) liars or B) thieves.

Totes Adorbs!

Totes Adorbs!

The dogs, at 4 weeks, have been weaned.  Both parents are papered English Mastiffs, we’re told, but there aren’t papers on these puppies.   Of course not.  The owners don’t want to make a lot of money, they just want the puppies to go to good homes.  Of course they do.  What incredibly generous people, wanting to spread Mastiff joy!

My husband is now watching for signs that he might have to drag me away before things get out of hand.

The father is a “Napoleon” Mastiff, and the mother is a fawn.  $100.  They need to sell them today before they go home, because the owners can’t keep them anymore.  Why, pray tell?  Too many loud parties?  They’re moving to E. Namibia and can’t take the dogs?

As we were talking with them, with my husband watching me begin to stew, 3 other cars stopped.  First question:  “How much?”  Kids running over to grab these listless pups.  Serenity Prayer, Serenity Prayer, Serenity Prayer.

Let me line out all the things wrong with this picture.

1.  It would be absolute kismet for someone who has done their doggy research and determined that a Mastiff is the dog for them to find these particular people in this particular parking lot on this particular day.  Therefore, I must assume that there are going to be impulse purchases made.  Oh, goody.

2.  There is no such thing as a “Napoleon” Mastiff.  The word is Neopolitan.  If you’re going to sell a dog, please know what kind of dog you’re selling.

3. Dogs should not be weaned at 4 weeks, sold at 4 weeks, or sold before being vaccinated / examined by a vet.

So, the whole “Purebred English Mastiff” story smells to high heaven.

Typical Backyard Breeding Operation

Typical Backyard Breeding Operation

Even more distressing are the people who I’m sure snagged themselves a big ol’ Mastiff dog that day.

Do you know what happens when someone impulse buys a dog, or gets one “free”?  They haven’t done their homework.  They haven’t selected the correct breed for their lifestyle.  They haven’t budgeted either their money for all the needs a pet has, or their time to provide training and nurturing.  The vet visits get put off….maybe not the first one, but over half will stop going before the dogs are caught up on vaccinations or spayed/neutered.  The “cute” wears off quickly when shoes get chewed up or multiple accidents happen on the carpet.  The dog walking stops when it begins to interfere with social schedules or the weather becomes unpleasant.

The end result:  within a year, more than half of these unplanned additions to the family end up in a shelter, or being given away to someone who will make the same emotional, unprepared choice to get a dog.  They are typically not well socialized, not at all trained, not spayed/neutered, not current on vaccinations, and not in good health.

Not the "Happily Ever After" this pup deserved

Not the “Happily Ever After” this pup deserved

By the way, for those of you who think you’re “saving” that puppy, you’re dead wrong.  You’re delusional.  You’re encouraging irresponsible breeding.  If people would stop buying these pitiful animals, then they’d stop breeding them.  Besides, that’s a lame story.  If someone’s first question when approaching a truck with dogs for sale is “How much?” they’re not out to save the puppies.

Don’t be part of the problem, people.  Spay or neuter, or breed responsibly.  Adopt from a local shelter (who, on average, have about 20% purebreds in their kennels at all times).  Choose carefully, after long consideration and sufficient preparation.  You deserve a forever dog, and those dogs deserve a forever family.

*climbs off of the soapbox*

Thanks for listening.

 

Being a Non-Material Girl

Being a Non-Material Girl

It’s that time again.  “Hon, what would you like for your birthday this year?” asks my husband, trying to make it sound like a lighthearted inquiry.  We both know it’s more like the commencement of a weeks-long cycle of anxiety.

I watch those “say it with diamonds” commercials and shake my head.  My husband probably wishes I would pick out a pair of diamond earrings, or some designer duds, or expensive perfume, or something else out of the “Gift Catalog for Wives”, but I’m just not that woman.  Never have been.  I’ve got nothing against the women who gasp over baubles, or furs, or 18 karat bling; but the particular gene that causes attraction to those things is missing from my DNA.

Not My Jam

Not My Jam

This makes birthdays and Mother’s Day and Christmas and Valentine’s Day and anniversaries a big problem for my husband.

Have you ever been in a group and a woman shows her friends the new jewelry that her husband bought her?  The other women ooooh and aaaaah, and the other husbands/boyfriends look uncomfortable?  My husband wants to be the oooooh and aaaaah generator.  Just once.

If he wants gift ideas, I’m always full of them.  This Christmas I asked for new oven mitts, and I got them. I love them.  I also got a new crock pot, and a soda machine.  Excellent choices!  Almost every year, I ask for the same things:  candles, slippers, kitchen stuff, and I adore what I get; but those aren’t the kinds of things that make women melt and feel cherished and tell everyone how wonderful their husband is.

So, you think I’m just pragmatic and not emotional or romantic?  Not true.  It’s just that what makes me melt isn’t available at the store and won’t need fancy wrapping.  It takes thought and effort and feeling.  I could hand my husband a list, but I won’t…..not because I’m trying to be uncooperative, but because if I have to tell him, it loses most of its appeal.  See, I want him to think, to feel, to know what’s in my heart and find a way to touch it; to remind me that he still knows what’s underneath the Mom, the professional, the volunteer, the friend, the Grandma.

Am I expecting him to be a mind reader?  No, not really.  If there is a particular thing that I am enthused over, he knows about it.  He’s my best friend; he knows everything about me.

I know I’m not alone in this feeling, so for discombobulated boyfriends/husbands everywhere, here are some ideas for women who don’t fit the mold for Cartier and Chanel.

*Write her a letter, and tell her what you admire about her, or what memories of the two of you are most cherished, or just that if you had to do it all over again, you’d still choose her

*Don’t ask her  permission or opinion about a night out for the occasion, just plan it with confidence, tell her how to dress and what time to be ready (or even better, pick out her outfit and leave it with an invitation) and surprise her

Romantic Dinner for Two

Romantic Dinner for Two

*Make her something with your own two hands:  whether it’s a framed photo collage, a new birdhouse, a window box, or a CD of her favorite songs

*Plan a surprise party.  I know that you don’t know how, but that’s what her girlfriends and family are for, to help you (and completely ignore her when she says she doesn’t like surprise parties.  That’s just something women say so they aren’t disappointed when they don’t get one)

Birthday Surprise

Birthday Surprise

*Sign up for a couples thing that you don’t want to do, but she does:  dancing lessons, cooking classes, massage school, etc. and then go happily, even if it really isn’t your cup of tea

*Get cheesy:  have flowers delivered, or take a horse drawn carriage ride, rent a billboard

*Renew your vows (which is one of the few times that a little bling should also be involved)

*Set up a session with a photographer for “couple photos”

Picture Perfect

Picture Perfect

*Take a walk down memory lane and return to your first restaurant or rent the first movie you saw together

There, you’ve just gotten the “inside scoop”.  You’re welcome.  My husband is probably still wishing he could get away with something in a velvet lined box, but whoever said “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend” didn’t know this girl.