I haven't decided on a title for this post yet- hopefully something will come to mind by the time I finish it. I have decided to try writing some more after noticing I actually got a REAL COMMENT from someone not in my family, yay! So now I ought to keep going...
The Dog Scene:
Sampson no longer smells horrible! Since switching to Diamond Naturals Lamb and Rice, which is free of corn, wheat, and chicken (has chicken fat, but not meat) he is not stinking up the house and making me wash my hands after touching him. I'm very pleased. But the downside is that it gives him horrible gas- we traded one smell for the other. Me, I'd rather have a farty dog than a greasy, doggy-smelling one, but that's me. Seems like stepdad John is not happy about the gassing of the house, but then he didn't seem to mind the original stink much. We'll be trying some other foods to see whether it was corn, wheat, or chicken that make him smell. Next bag will be Nutra Nuggets Lamb and Rice, it has no corn or chicken, but does have wheat, so I'll know right away if that's the culprit.
Other dog news... We got a Furminator! I thought it was ridiculous how much they cost, so I never even wanted one before. On a whim, I checked ebay for them, and whaddya know, it was only 15.00 WITH shipping. Nice! So I ordered it. The first time I brushed Bruno with it, I got a wad of hair the size of a large cat. He seems to be blowing his coat in December, which is odd to me. But then again, we don't have harsh winters here, so maybe his biological reflex wasn't triggered until late in the fall? Sampson has barely any undercoat to begin with, so not much off of him, but he LOVES to be "furminated", which I find funny. Bruno hates it, and he's the one who actually needs the brushing! Funny how their coats can look superficially similar (black, smooth, shiny, lies close to the body) and actually be SO different.
Not-dog news... I am still working at Old Navy, and today was NOT a good day. It felt like I was constantly being corrected for stupid stuff by the manager, and she always managed to see me either doing something wrong, or staring into space (hey, it happens to us ADD kids) when I think I was actually fairly productive. Life's not fair, I know. It doesn't help that I have no love for the clothing business... if it was up to me, we'd all be running around half-naked in animal skins. But the march of history goes on, sadly.... I have to go to Rabbitstick Rendezvous to get my caveman fix, I guess.
Also, my laptop died. It was weeks ago, before Thanksgiving. (Have I mentioned this already?) I'd had it for FIVE YEARS. That's a dinosaur in computer years. I think it was a major hard drive crash, but I have no money to fix it. I'm sad because all my pictures of Ginger were on that hard drive, and a music collection that took years to collect, and had thousands of songs- it will be very hard to duplicate (especially since I didn't pay for any of it.) So hopefully when I get it looked at, it can be fixed, or at least salvage that stuff.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Aaaaagghhh...
It's been too long again. Lots of things happening too.
SO... I DID find a job. Yippee skippee! It's at Old Navy. So far so good, coworkers are nice to the newbie, managers are a mixed group, some are impatient and bossy, others are nice and helpful. I wonder how it is people end up on that track... Our name badges also have "number of years with company" printed on them, some people's (not even managers) have as many as 5 or 7 years. I guess they find it fulfilling. So far I find it okay, but really not what I want for my life's accomplishment. I don't want to be 10 or 20 years down the road, and still trying to sell cheap Chinese-made clothing to the masses. (Though I have to tell you, the company is VERY emphatic they do NOT use sweatshops to make their clothes, thankyouverymuch.) If I want to stay on past the Christmas season, I will have to reapply for a permanent position- hopefully I can get one.
On the dog front... Bruno is doing VERY well with not chasing teh kitties. Haven't had to zap him for anything in over a month. He will still stare daggers at them, but doesn't chase them, even if they run and make a big fuss about it. John (my stepdad) jokes a lot about getting a third dog, and I think "be careful what you wish for... it might come true." I wonder how we would cope with a third. I would LOVE to raise a puppy "from scratch" but no way is it a good time now. Lack of money is the prime problem. I also wonder if I am actually suited to own more than one personal dog, I like having all my attention focused on Bruno. Maybe we'll see in a few years when he starts to get old and grumpy.
In other news... Thanksgiving went amazingly well here at la casa de los gatos. Time was appropriately managed, there were no food disasters, stony silences, or other common holiday pitfalls. the house looked nice, good thing no one went upstairs and saw the tornado zone that is the bedrooms and office. Dogs behaved themselves (mostly) didn't steal the turkey or barf up anything on the nice rugs. No allergic guests, thank goodness. Dogs each got a plate of turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and cranberry sauce in lieu of kibble for dinner. No greasy squirts in the night, yay! They both seem to have very robust digestive systems, thank goodness. "Dear God, I am thankful my dogs didn't have diarrhea from all the junk food they got today. Amen," I wanted to say. Is that sacrilege?
Gratitude. It's what's for dinner.
SO... I DID find a job. Yippee skippee! It's at Old Navy. So far so good, coworkers are nice to the newbie, managers are a mixed group, some are impatient and bossy, others are nice and helpful. I wonder how it is people end up on that track... Our name badges also have "number of years with company" printed on them, some people's (not even managers) have as many as 5 or 7 years. I guess they find it fulfilling. So far I find it okay, but really not what I want for my life's accomplishment. I don't want to be 10 or 20 years down the road, and still trying to sell cheap Chinese-made clothing to the masses. (Though I have to tell you, the company is VERY emphatic they do NOT use sweatshops to make their clothes, thankyouverymuch.) If I want to stay on past the Christmas season, I will have to reapply for a permanent position- hopefully I can get one.
On the dog front... Bruno is doing VERY well with not chasing teh kitties. Haven't had to zap him for anything in over a month. He will still stare daggers at them, but doesn't chase them, even if they run and make a big fuss about it. John (my stepdad) jokes a lot about getting a third dog, and I think "be careful what you wish for... it might come true." I wonder how we would cope with a third. I would LOVE to raise a puppy "from scratch" but no way is it a good time now. Lack of money is the prime problem. I also wonder if I am actually suited to own more than one personal dog, I like having all my attention focused on Bruno. Maybe we'll see in a few years when he starts to get old and grumpy.
In other news... Thanksgiving went amazingly well here at la casa de los gatos. Time was appropriately managed, there were no food disasters, stony silences, or other common holiday pitfalls. the house looked nice, good thing no one went upstairs and saw the tornado zone that is the bedrooms and office. Dogs behaved themselves (mostly) didn't steal the turkey or barf up anything on the nice rugs. No allergic guests, thank goodness. Dogs each got a plate of turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and cranberry sauce in lieu of kibble for dinner. No greasy squirts in the night, yay! They both seem to have very robust digestive systems, thank goodness. "Dear God, I am thankful my dogs didn't have diarrhea from all the junk food they got today. Amen," I wanted to say. Is that sacrilege?
Gratitude. It's what's for dinner.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
3.3%
That's the percentage of people who apply for holiday temp jobs will actually get them, according to the CS Monitor. There are 30 times more job seekers than jobs! I've been thinking this whole job search thing I'm doing is an exercise in futility (I know you're thinking, welcome to the real world, kid!) and I'd be better off working on my art to try to sell something before Christmas.
I think I might go to plan B, which is: forget this job business. Beg family for money so I can go back to school and finish my degree. No monkeying around this time.
I could also try to get back into modeling, but since I've developed a distaste for it, that might be hard. I am still getting hits every day on my modelmayhem profile, I think I could probably make some money pretty quick if I could get over being objectified by horny old men...
Somewhere along the line, I missed my train, it feels like. Everyone else my age is actually doing something, something way more cool than me (at least it feels that way...)
I think I might go to plan B, which is: forget this job business. Beg family for money so I can go back to school and finish my degree. No monkeying around this time.
I could also try to get back into modeling, but since I've developed a distaste for it, that might be hard. I am still getting hits every day on my modelmayhem profile, I think I could probably make some money pretty quick if I could get over being objectified by horny old men...
Somewhere along the line, I missed my train, it feels like. Everyone else my age is actually doing something, something way more cool than me (at least it feels that way...)
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Perfection
I think we as humans tend to follow the rule that familiarity breeds, not contempt, but fondness. The things we like the best are those we know the best, and unconsciously our patterns of love (and hate) follow not what is rational, but what is familiar.
I could get all depressing on this and talk about why racism and sexism and suchlike are a natural extension of this tendency, but it's not what I want to do today. What I want to write about is that it just hit me today- Bruno is a beautiful dog. He's canine perfection, and I couldn't get a handsomer companion. (Let me explain before you dismiss me as a fanatic.)
All this whole time I've had him I've been comparing him to Ginger, and usually unfavorably- Ginger had brown eyes so dark they looked black, so Bruno's are not as soulful and intelligent-looking because they are orange-brown instead. Ginger was slim and streamlined, Bruno is therefore not as graceful because he is stocky and muscular. Ginger's tail hung low most of the time, therefore Bruno is not as pretty with his curly tail. And so on. Every time I thought about his physical appearance, I compared him to Ginger, and since Ginger was the first dog I ever owned and really connected with, my brain pattern of what beauty is in dogs was based on her. I didn't admit this to anyone publicly- I didn't want to look like a jerk or a snob.
It's taken a nearly a year to retrain my brain to find Bruno attractive. Whenever people told me, "What a handsome dog you have!" I'd smile and thank them, figuring they were just being nice. I thought of him as a nice enough dog, but not a pretty one. I saw him as a hodgepodge of parts from different breeds because of his mongrel ancestry, and not as an integrated whole. I'd think, "Hmm, I like his ears, but they should be set a little higher on his head," or "I like the shape of his muzzle, but his lips are too loose and flappy."
Last week I took him for a run on the bike path along the lower Clackamas River in Oregon City, and we passed a full-blooded German Shepherd. The thought popped into my head- "My dog is way better put-together and handsome than that one!" And today I felt nothing but pride seeing him lying out in the yard. This is a really new feeling for me. Sometimes in the past I had to force myself to see the good in him, with all the trouble he's caused, sticking with him because I owe it to him, but today love comes easily.
A miracle.
I could get all depressing on this and talk about why racism and sexism and suchlike are a natural extension of this tendency, but it's not what I want to do today. What I want to write about is that it just hit me today- Bruno is a beautiful dog. He's canine perfection, and I couldn't get a handsomer companion. (Let me explain before you dismiss me as a fanatic.)
All this whole time I've had him I've been comparing him to Ginger, and usually unfavorably- Ginger had brown eyes so dark they looked black, so Bruno's are not as soulful and intelligent-looking because they are orange-brown instead. Ginger was slim and streamlined, Bruno is therefore not as graceful because he is stocky and muscular. Ginger's tail hung low most of the time, therefore Bruno is not as pretty with his curly tail. And so on. Every time I thought about his physical appearance, I compared him to Ginger, and since Ginger was the first dog I ever owned and really connected with, my brain pattern of what beauty is in dogs was based on her. I didn't admit this to anyone publicly- I didn't want to look like a jerk or a snob.
It's taken a nearly a year to retrain my brain to find Bruno attractive. Whenever people told me, "What a handsome dog you have!" I'd smile and thank them, figuring they were just being nice. I thought of him as a nice enough dog, but not a pretty one. I saw him as a hodgepodge of parts from different breeds because of his mongrel ancestry, and not as an integrated whole. I'd think, "Hmm, I like his ears, but they should be set a little higher on his head," or "I like the shape of his muzzle, but his lips are too loose and flappy."
Last week I took him for a run on the bike path along the lower Clackamas River in Oregon City, and we passed a full-blooded German Shepherd. The thought popped into my head- "My dog is way better put-together and handsome than that one!" And today I felt nothing but pride seeing him lying out in the yard. This is a really new feeling for me. Sometimes in the past I had to force myself to see the good in him, with all the trouble he's caused, sticking with him because I owe it to him, but today love comes easily.
A miracle.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
okay, I'm a deadbeat
I did say that I would try to keep up with this, but my old demons have caught up with me:
1. Who's reading this anyhow? Why should anyone care? (And yes, I know you're there, Mom, but you don't need to read a blog to know how I'm doing and what I'm up to.) I don't do anything that interesting, and writing about my dog is not going to gain me readers (everyone knows that no one loves your dog as much as you do- it's pretty much a given.)
2. On the off chance that I DO become successful and gain regular readers, I'm going to have to deal with malicious comments and personal attacks. I see this all the time on my favorite blogs I read- vicious, ignorant commenters. I wonder how writers can stand it without falling apart, and some even remove their comment section entirely. I don't know if I'm strong enough.
3. Sheer laziness. I'm lazy, I'm the first person to admit it. I didn't feel like driving five miles to a wireless hotspot to get on the internet. It seems wasteful, and I hate driving for frivolous things (liberal guilt about polluting the environment with my inefficient old putt-putt of a car. I want to put a sign on the back that says "I'M SORRY I CAN'T GO ANY FASTER" to apologize to anyone who gets stuck behind me.)
But now that I'm here, I might as well give an update.
I am COMPLETELY out of money. I have 150 dollars in my bank account, and ZERO cash stashed anywhere else. Still figuring out what to do about this. Fortunately I have a very loving (and enabling) family that lets me live with them rent-free, so I don't have to worry about being kicked out on the street or starving, but it demands a re-think of my choices in the past, and what to do next.
Sad news on the pet-owning front: Maggie (my family's Aussie) killed our elderly barn cat, Clementine. It's a miracle Clementine made it to old age (16 years) in the first place, being an outside-only cat in a place with many predators, but she was tough. It was really hard to see her go in such a hideous way. Maggie flushed her out of the barn where Clementine slept during the day (she was entirely nocturnal, and therefore had no dealings with Maggie before) and grabbed the cat by the neck and shook her violently, over and over. But this didn't give Clementine a quick death (that would have been better.) I think poor Clementine actually suffocated from being carried by the neck for that long. Maggie ran all around the yard and refused to break her hold on the cat, while we humans screamed and ran after. It was just horrible. Finally Clementine stopped struggling and Maggie tried to cache her kill for later (like wild predators do) by burying it with leaves and mud. I swooped in and gathered up the bloody, muddy cat, but it was too late.
I buried her in the yard, and dragged a log and some rocks over the site so dogs or other animals can't dig her up. Clementine looked she was just curled up to rest and it was so hard to leave her in that hole and shovel dirt over her open eyes.
One spot of hope in that circus of horror was Bruno's behavior during the incident. While he was definitely an accomplice in flushing the cat out of her hiding place, when I went ballistic yelling and screaming and kicking Maggie, he got the heck out of there- ran right to the house and demanded to be let in. I didn't know this until it was all over, and I said, "I need to look for Bruno, I lost him in the confusion." I feel bad for scaring him like that, but it shows that his prey drive can be overruled. His desire to kill the cat was less than his fear of a loud, scary situation, so I have hope that if a similar thing happens again (God forbid) I could stop him from killing. Hopefully I will not have to find out.
And if anyone is curious, Maggie is a purebred Australian Shepherd, and no, Aussies are NOT supposed to be a "cat killer" breed. (That dubious honor goes to German Shepherds and Siberian Huskies.) I don't know if she is a genetic anomaly, or if this behavior developed because she was not introduced to cats as a puppy, and she has been rewarded for killing other animals in the past (rats and an opossum.)
1. Who's reading this anyhow? Why should anyone care? (And yes, I know you're there, Mom, but you don't need to read a blog to know how I'm doing and what I'm up to.) I don't do anything that interesting, and writing about my dog is not going to gain me readers (everyone knows that no one loves your dog as much as you do- it's pretty much a given.)
2. On the off chance that I DO become successful and gain regular readers, I'm going to have to deal with malicious comments and personal attacks. I see this all the time on my favorite blogs I read- vicious, ignorant commenters. I wonder how writers can stand it without falling apart, and some even remove their comment section entirely. I don't know if I'm strong enough.
3. Sheer laziness. I'm lazy, I'm the first person to admit it. I didn't feel like driving five miles to a wireless hotspot to get on the internet. It seems wasteful, and I hate driving for frivolous things (liberal guilt about polluting the environment with my inefficient old putt-putt of a car. I want to put a sign on the back that says "I'M SORRY I CAN'T GO ANY FASTER" to apologize to anyone who gets stuck behind me.)
But now that I'm here, I might as well give an update.
I am COMPLETELY out of money. I have 150 dollars in my bank account, and ZERO cash stashed anywhere else. Still figuring out what to do about this. Fortunately I have a very loving (and enabling) family that lets me live with them rent-free, so I don't have to worry about being kicked out on the street or starving, but it demands a re-think of my choices in the past, and what to do next.
Sad news on the pet-owning front: Maggie (my family's Aussie) killed our elderly barn cat, Clementine. It's a miracle Clementine made it to old age (16 years) in the first place, being an outside-only cat in a place with many predators, but she was tough. It was really hard to see her go in such a hideous way. Maggie flushed her out of the barn where Clementine slept during the day (she was entirely nocturnal, and therefore had no dealings with Maggie before) and grabbed the cat by the neck and shook her violently, over and over. But this didn't give Clementine a quick death (that would have been better.) I think poor Clementine actually suffocated from being carried by the neck for that long. Maggie ran all around the yard and refused to break her hold on the cat, while we humans screamed and ran after. It was just horrible. Finally Clementine stopped struggling and Maggie tried to cache her kill for later (like wild predators do) by burying it with leaves and mud. I swooped in and gathered up the bloody, muddy cat, but it was too late.
I buried her in the yard, and dragged a log and some rocks over the site so dogs or other animals can't dig her up. Clementine looked she was just curled up to rest and it was so hard to leave her in that hole and shovel dirt over her open eyes.
One spot of hope in that circus of horror was Bruno's behavior during the incident. While he was definitely an accomplice in flushing the cat out of her hiding place, when I went ballistic yelling and screaming and kicking Maggie, he got the heck out of there- ran right to the house and demanded to be let in. I didn't know this until it was all over, and I said, "I need to look for Bruno, I lost him in the confusion." I feel bad for scaring him like that, but it shows that his prey drive can be overruled. His desire to kill the cat was less than his fear of a loud, scary situation, so I have hope that if a similar thing happens again (God forbid) I could stop him from killing. Hopefully I will not have to find out.
And if anyone is curious, Maggie is a purebred Australian Shepherd, and no, Aussies are NOT supposed to be a "cat killer" breed. (That dubious honor goes to German Shepherds and Siberian Huskies.) I don't know if she is a genetic anomaly, or if this behavior developed because she was not introduced to cats as a puppy, and she has been rewarded for killing other animals in the past (rats and an opossum.)
Monday, September 13, 2010
Three Things
I just re-read the post about when to euthanize a dog on Ruffly Speaking, and though I've heard it before, she's a good writer, and puts it together well.
The most important thing, is to decide BEFORE your dog is old or sick, what gives him joy in life? You need to pick 3 things that give him the most pleasure, and if he gets to the point where he can do only one or none of those things anymore, it's time to let him go. If you decide before he gets sick, it's easier to have perspective later.
Since Bruno is in good health, I could pick his three things today:
1. Hunting (especially rodents in long grass)
2. Eating (especially cheese and liver and cookies)
3. Playing (especially ripping up kleenexes and tugging a rope)
If I could add a fourth and fifth, it would be going for walks, and greeting visitors. He gets very excited to do those things too.
Anyway, if at some point he gets to where he can still eat, but it hurts too much to walk, hunt, or play, I'll know it's time. Or if he will still go on walks, but has no enthusiasm for hunting or eating, I'll know it's time.
What are your dog's 3 things?
The most important thing, is to decide BEFORE your dog is old or sick, what gives him joy in life? You need to pick 3 things that give him the most pleasure, and if he gets to the point where he can do only one or none of those things anymore, it's time to let him go. If you decide before he gets sick, it's easier to have perspective later.
Since Bruno is in good health, I could pick his three things today:
1. Hunting (especially rodents in long grass)
2. Eating (especially cheese and liver and cookies)
3. Playing (especially ripping up kleenexes and tugging a rope)
If I could add a fourth and fifth, it would be going for walks, and greeting visitors. He gets very excited to do those things too.
Anyway, if at some point he gets to where he can still eat, but it hurts too much to walk, hunt, or play, I'll know it's time. Or if he will still go on walks, but has no enthusiasm for hunting or eating, I'll know it's time.
What are your dog's 3 things?
Sad-ish news
My mother just called to tell me that her mother passed away today, about 2 hours ago. (This is NOT the same "grandma" I mentioned in my previous post, that's my dad's mother.)
Am I a jerk for not feeling sad? Or has it just not hit me yet? I remember her as a crabby old lady, but she loved her cat, and gave me a bunch of kitchen stuff once for helping her move into a new apartment. All her grandkids called her "Gersher" which was short for Grandma Shirley. One time she was babysitting me and my younger sister when we were small, and I brought a "pet slug" into the house, in a jar. She got angry and flushed it down the toilet. My sis actually remembers this better than I do, but it makes me laugh a little today...
When my mom told me that Gersh died, Mom sounded sad, but more relieved. (I hope I'm not reading that wrong...) She had been in a care facility for a long time, was depressed, very disabled from a stroke, and in the past few days, had become unable to eat or drink. Her quality of life was basically zero. The last time I saw her was Mother's Day, when she was confined to a wheelchair, but could still talk a little, and swallow liquids. She had gone downhill from there.
Since her family are Christian Scientists (sorry, that wikipedia page is not well written, but is a decent overview if you're not familiar with that sect) they didn't do any heroic measures to prolong her life, they just tried to keep her comfortable. For a person who never went to a doctor her whole life, never used any medicine, she did okay- she lived a long time and was quite healthy until a few years ago. This morning, both my mother and my aunt visited her before she died. It was after they left, but it sounds like she went peacefully.
Rest in peace, Gersher. I hope there are cats in heaven...
Am I a jerk for not feeling sad? Or has it just not hit me yet? I remember her as a crabby old lady, but she loved her cat, and gave me a bunch of kitchen stuff once for helping her move into a new apartment. All her grandkids called her "Gersher" which was short for Grandma Shirley. One time she was babysitting me and my younger sister when we were small, and I brought a "pet slug" into the house, in a jar. She got angry and flushed it down the toilet. My sis actually remembers this better than I do, but it makes me laugh a little today...
When my mom told me that Gersh died, Mom sounded sad, but more relieved. (I hope I'm not reading that wrong...) She had been in a care facility for a long time, was depressed, very disabled from a stroke, and in the past few days, had become unable to eat or drink. Her quality of life was basically zero. The last time I saw her was Mother's Day, when she was confined to a wheelchair, but could still talk a little, and swallow liquids. She had gone downhill from there.
Since her family are Christian Scientists (sorry, that wikipedia page is not well written, but is a decent overview if you're not familiar with that sect) they didn't do any heroic measures to prolong her life, they just tried to keep her comfortable. For a person who never went to a doctor her whole life, never used any medicine, she did okay- she lived a long time and was quite healthy until a few years ago. This morning, both my mother and my aunt visited her before she died. It was after they left, but it sounds like she went peacefully.
Rest in peace, Gersher. I hope there are cats in heaven...
So why?
A couple days ago, I watched the first episode of the new season of "Dogs 101" on Animal Planet with my grandmother. One of the featured breeds was the American Pit Bull Terrier, and though they mentioned that yes, it is a strong dog, very tenacious, very energetic, and when trained to fight it can be dangerous (like ANY dog) all the pits they showed were loving, sweet, well-trained dogs. (Of course.)
So my grandma said, "So why do they have such a bad reputation?"
I replied, "Media hysteria."
I just read a post on No Kill Nation that got me thinking a little deeper. Of course, media hysteria is number one reason pit bulls have a bad rap. Whenever a dog attacks someone, if it is even a POSSIBLE pit mix, it will be labeled a pit bull. And any dog with short, smooth hair and a blocky head will be labeled a pit, even if breed-experienced people can see that it is a mix, or a completely unrelated breed. More people get killed by lightning than dog attacks, but even the small number of serious dog attacks has thrown the nation into a panic.
No Kill Nation's point of view (and I think they are correct) is that intact, unneutered dogs, and chained, neglected dogs are responsible for almost every fatal attack. The mix of hormones and frustration, plus the complete lack of social contact, lead to crazed killers. (Rarely! Think of how many neglected pitbulls there are, and how FEW go bad.) Pits are the number 1 most neglected dog in America, I feel. And legislation is NOT HELPING. Stricter dog control laws lead to MORE dogs being neglected, because if you can't take your pit bull out in public without a muzzle, and he must be kept in a maximum-security enclosure when he's at home, who's going to bother with socialization?
Pits are not my cup of tea when it comes to dogs, honestly, but that's mostly aesthetic. All the ones I've met were sweet-as-pie goofballs, not killers. It really hurts when I hear people say bad stuff about them. For example, my ex-boyfriend has a dog that's 1/2 pit, 1/2 blue heeler. She's extremely obedient and loyal, good with dogs, cats, chickens, kids, you name it. But when he first got her, I told my aunt that he had bought a 1/2 pit puppy and she said, "Why'd he get a dog like THAT? A pit bull?" with a frown. My dad has a dog that is (to me at least) obviously a pit mix, but his wife insists that it is a Mastiff or Ridgeback or Boxer mix instead of the dreaded "p-word," because such a friendly dog could never be part pit, no sirree! (insert sarcasm.)
And then you have people like Terrierman saying that only gangbangers and wannabes have pitbulls, which is so not true. (Way to go! Perpetuating stereotypes again! While he occasionally says something insightful, Terrierman has his head up his butt on the issue of pits.) Lots of normal people have well-behaved "pibbles", which of course doesn't make the news because it's not exciting.
I don't quite know where I'm going with this, but it frustrates me that so many people, even dog lovers, have fallen for the media hype about these dogs. They're just dogs, people! A dog is what you make of it, and if you neglect it and abuse it, sometimes they snap. That's just elementary psychology.
So my grandma said, "So why do they have such a bad reputation?"
I replied, "Media hysteria."
I just read a post on No Kill Nation that got me thinking a little deeper. Of course, media hysteria is number one reason pit bulls have a bad rap. Whenever a dog attacks someone, if it is even a POSSIBLE pit mix, it will be labeled a pit bull. And any dog with short, smooth hair and a blocky head will be labeled a pit, even if breed-experienced people can see that it is a mix, or a completely unrelated breed. More people get killed by lightning than dog attacks, but even the small number of serious dog attacks has thrown the nation into a panic.
No Kill Nation's point of view (and I think they are correct) is that intact, unneutered dogs, and chained, neglected dogs are responsible for almost every fatal attack. The mix of hormones and frustration, plus the complete lack of social contact, lead to crazed killers. (Rarely! Think of how many neglected pitbulls there are, and how FEW go bad.) Pits are the number 1 most neglected dog in America, I feel. And legislation is NOT HELPING. Stricter dog control laws lead to MORE dogs being neglected, because if you can't take your pit bull out in public without a muzzle, and he must be kept in a maximum-security enclosure when he's at home, who's going to bother with socialization?
Pits are not my cup of tea when it comes to dogs, honestly, but that's mostly aesthetic. All the ones I've met were sweet-as-pie goofballs, not killers. It really hurts when I hear people say bad stuff about them. For example, my ex-boyfriend has a dog that's 1/2 pit, 1/2 blue heeler. She's extremely obedient and loyal, good with dogs, cats, chickens, kids, you name it. But when he first got her, I told my aunt that he had bought a 1/2 pit puppy and she said, "Why'd he get a dog like THAT? A pit bull?" with a frown. My dad has a dog that is (to me at least) obviously a pit mix, but his wife insists that it is a Mastiff or Ridgeback or Boxer mix instead of the dreaded "p-word," because such a friendly dog could never be part pit, no sirree! (insert sarcasm.)
And then you have people like Terrierman saying that only gangbangers and wannabes have pitbulls, which is so not true. (Way to go! Perpetuating stereotypes again! While he occasionally says something insightful, Terrierman has his head up his butt on the issue of pits.) Lots of normal people have well-behaved "pibbles", which of course doesn't make the news because it's not exciting.
I don't quite know where I'm going with this, but it frustrates me that so many people, even dog lovers, have fallen for the media hype about these dogs. They're just dogs, people! A dog is what you make of it, and if you neglect it and abuse it, sometimes they snap. That's just elementary psychology.
I want this kitty...
I really, really do.
My mother fostered his litter, and he is the last one left- I can't believe no one wants this little cutie! He's obviously a Siamese mix of some kind, but without the grating "mrow" noises. He's pretty quiet, and very purrrrrr-y and playful, which is a big change from how he was several weeks ago- terrified of all humans, covered in fleas, belly distended from all his worms. He's a real handsome little guy now! He is batting at my fingers while I type, it's so adorable it's ridiculous.
If I could get a cat, I would so take him, but I don't think he would be safe with Bruno. (Who is, as I type this, staring daggers at the purring kitten on my lap, and no doubt thinks of him as prey. We joked about "snack size cats" but it's really no joke. Kitten is NOT allowed on the floor while Bruno is in the room.) Bruno has improved HUGELY in his behavior around cats, but I would never trust him unsupervised.
So Mom, if you are reading this (and I know you do!) I say to heck with finding this one a home. Can you find room for one more in your flock of cats?
If I could get a cat, I would so take him, but I don't think he would be safe with Bruno. (Who is, as I type this, staring daggers at the purring kitten on my lap, and no doubt thinks of him as prey. We joked about "snack size cats" but it's really no joke. Kitten is NOT allowed on the floor while Bruno is in the room.) Bruno has improved HUGELY in his behavior around cats, but I would never trust him unsupervised.
So Mom, if you are reading this (and I know you do!) I say to heck with finding this one a home. Can you find room for one more in your flock of cats?
Thursday, September 9, 2010
To explain...
The reason I have zero posts for a week and then a whole bunch at once is because I don't have internet at home, and don't like to waste gas to drive to a wifi hotspot. We live in a rural area, and it's about 5 miles to closest spot, and about 15 to my favorite one, the public library.
I write blog entries on my computer when I think of something, and then upload them all at once when I can.
I guess in training language, I'm "intermittently reinforcing" my readers- usually there is nothing new, but once in a while- JACKPOT! (This method actually leads to the strongest response on the trainee- it's why slot machines are so popular...)
I write blog entries on my computer when I think of something, and then upload them all at once when I can.
I guess in training language, I'm "intermittently reinforcing" my readers- usually there is nothing new, but once in a while- JACKPOT! (This method actually leads to the strongest response on the trainee- it's why slot machines are so popular...)
Pottery News!
So, while it was cold and wet, I used the opportunity to fire some pots I made earlier this summer. I like to use primitive wood-firing for my pots, because it’s quick, simple (though much more complex than just popping them in a kiln and pressing ‘start”) and it makes them look FABULOUS.
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| A shiny black tea bowl- ignore the George Forman grill in the background... |
The variable atmosphere in the firing (oxidation versus reduction) and the trace minerals from the ash, and carbon from the smoke, all combine to create beautiful, unpredictable, “fire cloud” markings on the pots. Oxygen brings out the red of the iron oxide in the red clay, lack of oxygen (reduction, in potter’s language) dulls the color and makes the blackest blacks and whitest whites. I LOVE the uncertainty of it- I can try to set it up to get good results, but you never know exactly how they’ll turn out, or even if they’ll survive- pots crack or even explode at much higher rates in primitive firing than kiln firing.
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| A bowl I made being removed from an outdoor pit firing- we used horse turds for fuel! |
My firing chamber is my household woodstove- that’s why I had to wait for cool weather to fire. For clay to become ceramic, it must reach at least 500 degrees F (but hotter is better, I aim for 1000F) A regular woodstove is quite capable of getting pots that hot. My other option is outdoor pit firing, but it is still fire season here in the West, so all outdoor fires (other than barbecue grills) are illegal.
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| Pots in stove with fire merrily blazing... |
A firing from start to finish takes 45 minutes-several hours. The pots must be preheated on top of the stove before they are moved into the firebox, and then gradually heated by building the fire slowly. I know they are done when they are starting to glow- then I pile on a whole bunch of wood, get it blazing just to make sure. Then I let it die down. For better fire clouds, I throw some crumbled-up punky wood (old, rotten stuff) onto the pots when they are still very hot, but the fire has mostly burned out. It smokes like crazy! If I do it too soon, it burns up completely, and the pots don’t take any color. Too late, it doesn’t burn at all, and the pots don’t get any color that way either. It’s a judgment call. When done right, the carbon black color is absolutely bonded to the clay, sucked into its pores. That’s what I aim for.
Once they pots are cool enough to touch (well, sometimes I burn my hands because I’m impatient) I pull them out and rinse off the ashes in water. Voila, beautiful handmade, primitive-fired pottery!
Tail Talk
It’s pretty obvious that a dog’s tail is a crucial element of his communication. Even humans can read a lot of what dogs say with their tails, but we tend to miss the subtle things, and misinterpret some of the obvious ones. A wagging tail does NOT always mean they are happy.
As previously mentioned somewhere on here, I grew up with cats- different tail language altogether! A cat’s tail wagging is a baaaaad sign- you are about to get swatted, make no mistake.
One thing I learned pretty quickly, when I first got a dog, is that a tail raised in the air, still or stiffly wagging, is not the same as the stiff upright cat tail (which is friendly, and how kittens greet their mother). Stiff upright tails signal trouble brewing. It is a sign of a dominant or wanna-be dominant dog- at best, it is one dog telling another, “I’m the boss,” and if the other dog agrees, it doesn’t go any further. But sometimes it is a sign of a fearful dog who thinks that he must prevent the other dog attacking him by looking as big and scary as possible. This kind of dog is paranoid that the other dog will attack him, and can misinterpret friendly or neutral advances as aggression, and will aggress back in return.
That’s the kind of dog Bruno is. At first I thought he was naturally dominant, the way people talk about Akitas (which he resembles) and was just intolerant of other dogs getting in his personal space. This is how it usually goes when he meets a new dog- his tail is curled over his back, his hackles come up, and his posture is very stiff. He will cautiously try to sniff the other dog, and it tries to sniff him. At some point in the transaction, usually while the other dog is trying to sniff his butt, he whips around and goes ballistic- barking, snarling, rapidly biting the other dog over and over. I can easily break it up, the other dog never appears to have actual wounds, but it’s scary and embarrassing.
It got me thinking- does Bruno’s curled Spitz tail make communication harder for him? A lot of the curled-tail breeds have reputations for being unfriendly to other dogs (Akita, Chow, Malamute, etc), so I wondered, maybe they can’t help it- other dogs might see them as trying to dominate simply because of their tail position. Perhaps in Bruno’s early life, other dogs “put him in his place” for his tail being up, so he learned to pre-empt that and get them first.
Or does having a curled tail actually make a dog feel more dominant? What is the connection between mind and body here? In the same way that forcing yourself to smile can make you feel better if you keep doing it…
I guess it goes without saying that I think tail docking is unethical not just because it causes pain, but because tails are so vitally important in dog communication.
I need a new camera
Well, “need” is a bit strong. I would LIKE a new camera, because my current one is frustrating me to no end. It’s a cheap Kodak point-n-shoot, and it takes 2 seconds after you push the button to capture the image, and FIVE seconds (one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, etc.) to be able to take another picture after that. A lot can happen in 2 seconds or 5 seconds, I’m missing cool shots because I’m waiting for my stupid camera to catch up. (If I put it in ‘fast action mode” instead of full auto, it’s slightly better, but tends to make dull, dim images.)
For example, I was trying to capture the elegant (but also hilarious) way that Bruno chooses to exercise himself in our pasture. He leaps about, pouncing on the grass, in a way that looks exactly like the “airs above the ground” exercise that high-school dressage horses do. Like this:
And here's Bruno's version... I didn't get a good up in the air shot, because he moves too fast. These are take-offs and landings.
I don’t want to go all out and get a DSLR (even if I could afford it) I just want a better pocket-size camera that won’t cost me hundreds to replace if I drop it in a river (which actually happened to my first digital camera- whoops.)
Life Planning
So I have developed a new strategy (well, not new, really… what I have is new motivation.)
I just read the FABULOUS book Excel-erated Learning. It’s a good overview of the current state in academic learning theory, (the study of how all organisms learn) specifically geared toward professional dog trainers with the goal to bring training practices into line with science. (To make training easier and less stressful for man and beast.) I am not a pro trainer, but I loved it. I am such a wonk at heart, it reminded me of how much I love psychology and the brilliance of a well-designed, well implemented experiment.(There are a lot of them referenced in the book.) It made me want to be part of it all, back in the fray of academic life.
My theory is that a lot of people who really love psychology (and are good at it) are those who are not naturally good with people- since we had to teach ourselves to understand other humans, it lays the framework for cataloguing and analyzing human behavior. (And animal behavior.) I could be wrong, but that’s my experience. I was definitely a real dork growing up. (Still am, maybe…)
So my new plan is to work this fall, save up enough money to enroll in community college for the spring term, get as many credits as I can, and then transfer to one of the Oregon state universities and major in psychology, with a focus on learning theory. This will take several years, but I think I could tolerate going back to school if I had a clear plan of what I’m working towards.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Rain Blahs Cured!
A friend and I (plus Bruno of course) went to the beach expecting cool, wet, windy weather, and got:
THIS!
And THIS!
And THIS!
It turned out warm, lightly breezy, and just perfect. Also, THANK YOU OREGON for making all the beaches free to the public. What a great state!
Really? That's yucky
My mom’s husband, John, told me that he once ate a whole “dog pepperoni” (a Pupperoni? A Snausage? Hopefully not a ‘bully stick”!) because he thought it was jerky. Where are your taste buds?!
I nibbled a bite of the “pizza bites” treats that drive Bruno crazy, and boy do they NOT taste like pizza. Bleccch!
I guess this just fits with the finding that women tend to have more taste buds and better sense of smell than men. (Especially the women in my family- we all have very keen senses.) Possible connection- in primitive societies women are usually the keepers of knowledge about edible and medicinal plants, and smell and taste are of paramount importance in identifying these. (For a cool aside about supertasters, people who have a much keener sense of taste than normal, click here. I am probably a supertaster- I find alcohol intolerably bitter, and have had to train myself to eat grapefruits, swiss cheese, tofu, carbonated drinks, and other stuff normal people don't find bitter. It could be worse, though...my aunt can't even stand rosemary or oregano!)
Dogs have a LOT fewer taste buds than humans- probably because they evolved to eat a less-varied diet than we do, and didn't need to distinguish so many flavors. (Cats have even fewer- their natural diet doesn't include ANY plant matter or carrion). Also, the fact is; that while dogs appreciate our food, what THEY like best is stuff we find yucky. Dogs are not little humans in fur suits!
Idiocracy
This movie was on TV today, and I watched it. I’m not sure whether it is more slapstick or more satire. A good combo in my book, at least. The plot goes: an ordinary man and woman are frozen in a secret military cryogenic experiment, and then the project is forgotten and abandoned. They are accidentally woken up 500 years in the future, to find that the world’s collective IQ has declined massively, no one knows how to read, and the top movie in the theaters is called “Ass” and simply features 90 minutes of an anonymous naked butt.
The man spends the whole movie trying to find out how to go back in time and stop this horrible mess from happening, and being called upon to fix things for the future’s idiotic denizens. It’s a perfectly delicious (if very vulgar- definitely not kid-appropriate) satire, with plenty of nods to Planet of the Apes and other classic sci-fi.
Now, the plausibility of this is quite low… Since IQ scores have actually gone UP every year since they started testing people with the Stanford Binet (the most common type of IQ test) and they have to adjust the scoring to make sure that the average score is still “100”. (Evidence to me that IQ is NOT genetic) But perhaps IQ scores are going to be like longevity, now that the “experts” think that my generation is going to be the first one in modern history that might live shorter lives than their parents…
It's a losing battle...
…to convince my mother and other baby boomers that current pop music is not all garbage. Ya know, that stuff they play in the mall, and the top 40 radio stations- yeah, that’s mostly crap. BUT there are lots of artists that have actual fans, if not radio airtime, that are making excellent music.
Musicianship is NOT dead! But I can’t win, it seems… Radiohead is too noisy and chaotic. Helio Sequence is too repetitive. And don’t even mention any punk or hiphop stuff- that’s a whole other ballpark. And I get nowhere if I talk about how hard is to put together anything wholly electronic, to sync up different tracks and put together good rhythm (I would know, I took a digital music class a few years ago, it was frikkin HARD) that’s catchy and works well as a whole. But no, anything that isn’t classically-trained musicians on actual instruments is crap.
I must agree to disagree, I guess.
Bittersweet
It feels like fall today, actually it has since I got rained out on Mt. Hood. The sky is grey, temps are mild, and the first dry, brown leaves are starting to fall. I’m always a little melancholy at the end of summer- long months of cold, wet, miserable weather are ahead. But so are beautiful pumpkins and apples, crisp morning air, the grass will become green again with the rains. Chili for dinner on rainy evenings, silvery frost on the ground, geese calling as they fly south for the winter.
My mother says that autumn is her favorite time of year, and I can see why. But still I’m a little sad. If I was making the calendar, the year would end after the fall harvest, when the earth goes to sleep for the year and nothing happens outside from November through February but rain, rain, rain.
If I can scrape up enough money to go south for the winter, you bet your britches I’ll be in Arizona for January! Horrible cold, wet, post-holiday letdown month…
Are we breed obsessed?
So while I was thinking about the Animal Planet show “Dogs 101” in my previous post, it got me onto a train of thought I’ve been on before.
What is the first question most people ask when they start looking for a dog (especially if they’ve never had one before)? Usually, it is “what breed of dog should I get?” “Breed matching” is a perennial favorite on the dogster forums, and the general concept is that a dog’s breed is the single most important thing to consider when getting a dog.
I was raised with cats, exclusively. I was emphatically NOT a dog person as a kid or teen. To cat owners, asking them about breeds of cat is pretty useless, because the VAST majority of cats are just well, cats. The only truly popular pure breeds of cats are Siamese and Persians, and no one would tell you that they are significantly different from other cats. Same size, same coat (yes, there are alley cats with Persian-type hair, and Siamese markings) and personality varies, but if you like one kind of cat, you will probably like others. It is much more about the individual when you choose a cat, and if a cat is being a pain in the butt, usually no one says, “well, he must be part such-and-such.” So that’s my background.
Over in dog world, breed is EVERYTHING. People are constantly asking, “what kind of dog is he/she?” With Bruno, I say “shelter mutt” nowadays and leave it at that, but I was very curious when I first got him. Okay, okay, I confess: I bought the Mars Wisdom Panel DNA breed test. Supposedly they’ve tested many dogs of every AKC breed, and developed some kind of algorithm for finding patterns that all dogs of each breed have, and then they look for these patterns in mixed breed dogs to tell you their heritage. It’s proprietary technology, I can’t tell you a lot more… And just how accurate it is, no one really knows. But I wanted to know bad enough that I ignored that, and bought it anyway. And got this:
50% match: Chihuahua
25% match: Chinese Shar Pei
25% match: Scottish Deerhound
For a dog who looks like this, and weighs 50 lbs:
So, even if this is true, what did it gain me? Nada. He’s still the same medium-sized black mutt. It’s kind of like the old chesnut, “if a tree falls in the forest and no is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?” If no one can believe the test results, and if it has zero relevancy to my life or his, does it even matter if it’s accurate?
For the record, Bruno’s a lab mix at the vet, was a shepherd mix at the shelter, and is a chow mix at the groomer- I let people think what they want about him. He’s still my funny little furball no matter where he goes!
Animal Planet, can’t you do any better?
So after I got back home from my hiking trip, I totally vegged out. I’m recharging, right? And that included some TV watching. I have to say- Animal Planet, I like the concept of a channel about animals, but you are totally dropping the ball on quality.
This show “Pet-O-Rama”, is the epitome of crap, I’m sorry. And “Bad Dogs” that I’m watching now, well, the clips are kind of cute, but I have real issue with calling these “bad dogs.” For example, in one clip, a man hold up his new pug puppy for the camera, as in ‘Hey mom! Look what I got!” The poor dog is obviously terrified to be held up in the air in an awkward position, and it starts to urinate. The man yells “What the!” and drops the dog ON THE FLOOR, about five feet down. My mouth fell open. The dog could have been seriously injured! But no, it’s supposed to be funny…
And the rest of AP’s current offerings are kind of crap too. Pit Boss? Cute idea, but can you say S-C-R-I-P-T-E-D? I hope no one thinks that’s how a real-life rescue works… Last Chance Highway is a little better, seems more realistic. But as a show focused on transport rescue from the Southern US states to the North, they have NEVER mentioned or tried to refute the controversial nature of transport rescue. River Monsters is about a guy who goes fishing, booorrrrring, I Shouldn’t Be Alive isn’t even about animals, and Dogs 101 is fun to watch, but they get a heck of a lot of stuff just plain wrong, and I worry about anyone who is basing their decision of what breed of dog to get based on it.
I confess that I enjoy “Confessions: Animal Hoarding.” It is a pretty well made show, and much less overly-dramatic than the other type of show that deals with the same class of people, which is “Animal Cops” and it’s spinoffs. “Confessions” shows the hoarders as real people with feelings, and the (usually sad and dark) journeys they’ve taken to end up as the lady with 50 dogs in a trailer.
I sometimes watch Whale Wars, but it gets tiring after a while- they chase the whaling boats around all day, and the next day, and the next day, and so on... Occasionally something actually happens.
AP is also showing the Oscar-winning documentary The Cove, which I am looking forward to watching. So why, why, why, if they can afford the rights to high-profile stuff like that, do they still make crap!?
Here’s a message, Animal Planet: There is a REAL market for intelligent animal-focused content. Dog (and cat, bird, tiger, elephant, etc) lovers do not ALL have an IQ of 80, some of us are quite smart, actually, and if you continue to make biased, sensationalized, and just plain BAD TV, we will stop watching it. (And while you're at it, can you make a website that doesn't crash my computer?)
Friday, August 27, 2010
Clarifications on Shock Collar Training
Well, I thought I should write a little more about this, because I want people to know more about the controversy that is e-collar training.
Suffice to say, this is one of the most divisive subjects you can bring up about dog training, so here's my take:
E-Collars are a TOOL. They are not evil in of themselves. The stimulation it delivers can range from a mild tingly feeling (like when your leg falls asleep) to a "Yowza! that hurts!" sting (have you ever touched an electric fence meant to keep horses in? It's about like that). The remote allows the trainer to change the setting for what he/she thinks is right for his dog. But... It is VERY easy to use this tool in an abusive way. People who use them extensively are either VERY skilled, or they are abusing their dogs, and it can be a fine line in between.
My second objection is that they are completely unnecessary for basic obedience training. I can make a dog sit, lie down, and stay with no forceful or painful actions at all, so why even go there? If I use treats wrong, well, my dog just won't learn anything, and maybe get fat from all the treats, but if I use a shock collar wrong, he could become afraid of me, and that's the last thing I want. The directions that came with Bruno's collar made me mad. Basically, they asked you to find the level of stim that bothers your dog, but isn't torture (so he paws the collar, but doesn't whine or scream, for example). Then you shock him while forcing him to do the command (using a leash to pull him into a down, for example) and stop the shock as soon as he's in the position. THE PAIN STOPS IF HE OBEYS. That just seems...wrong. I'm sure that eventually the dog will figure this out and will obey you lightning-fast, but it's learning based on pain and fear. I know many trainers have excellent results using e-collars, but the dogs have to have a high pain tolerance, quick bounceback, and be tolerant of forceful handling. That obviously isn't every dog. Bruno shrieked at even the lowest level of stim.
So... There is ONE use for the e-collar that I feel is completely justified: stopping predatory chasing. It works, and there are few other ways to get the results. Traumatic memories are VERY hard to erase (it's called PTSD in severe, human cases...) which is why it works so well. I will admit that openly- Yes, I want to build a traumatic association in my dog. I want him to feel uneasy around prey animals and ignore or avoid them, instead of killing them. I think it's a fair trade-off. It saves the poor bunnies and kitties, saves my peace of mind, and might even save my dog's life, if it stops him from chasing a deer into the woods, attacking sheep and getting shot by an angry rancher, or darting across the road after a squirrel and getting squished by a car.
But I don't stop there... I still work diligently to build my dog's recall so that he will return to me BEFORE an incident starts, so I don't have to use the shock. I use positive-only training for this.
So far, it's working well. Bruno willingly submits to the collar, and is even eager to have it on (because he's built a positive association as well: e-collar=going for a walk). His recall is getting much better, thanks to the doggy crack I tend to carry around with me. (Yes, I know, it's a horrible, horrible product, that will rot his teeth, make him fart, etc. But it works, and only takes a little bit at a time.)
So I will not say that "E-Collars are for evil dog abusers!" or "E-Collars are wonderful, and people who hate them are pansies!" I have a specific use for one, and it works for me and my dog. I would strongly hesitate to use it for anything other than predatory aggression, though.
Suffice to say, this is one of the most divisive subjects you can bring up about dog training, so here's my take:
E-Collars are a TOOL. They are not evil in of themselves. The stimulation it delivers can range from a mild tingly feeling (like when your leg falls asleep) to a "Yowza! that hurts!" sting (have you ever touched an electric fence meant to keep horses in? It's about like that). The remote allows the trainer to change the setting for what he/she thinks is right for his dog. But... It is VERY easy to use this tool in an abusive way. People who use them extensively are either VERY skilled, or they are abusing their dogs, and it can be a fine line in between.
My second objection is that they are completely unnecessary for basic obedience training. I can make a dog sit, lie down, and stay with no forceful or painful actions at all, so why even go there? If I use treats wrong, well, my dog just won't learn anything, and maybe get fat from all the treats, but if I use a shock collar wrong, he could become afraid of me, and that's the last thing I want. The directions that came with Bruno's collar made me mad. Basically, they asked you to find the level of stim that bothers your dog, but isn't torture (so he paws the collar, but doesn't whine or scream, for example). Then you shock him while forcing him to do the command (using a leash to pull him into a down, for example) and stop the shock as soon as he's in the position. THE PAIN STOPS IF HE OBEYS. That just seems...wrong. I'm sure that eventually the dog will figure this out and will obey you lightning-fast, but it's learning based on pain and fear. I know many trainers have excellent results using e-collars, but the dogs have to have a high pain tolerance, quick bounceback, and be tolerant of forceful handling. That obviously isn't every dog. Bruno shrieked at even the lowest level of stim.
So... There is ONE use for the e-collar that I feel is completely justified: stopping predatory chasing. It works, and there are few other ways to get the results. Traumatic memories are VERY hard to erase (it's called PTSD in severe, human cases...) which is why it works so well. I will admit that openly- Yes, I want to build a traumatic association in my dog. I want him to feel uneasy around prey animals and ignore or avoid them, instead of killing them. I think it's a fair trade-off. It saves the poor bunnies and kitties, saves my peace of mind, and might even save my dog's life, if it stops him from chasing a deer into the woods, attacking sheep and getting shot by an angry rancher, or darting across the road after a squirrel and getting squished by a car.
But I don't stop there... I still work diligently to build my dog's recall so that he will return to me BEFORE an incident starts, so I don't have to use the shock. I use positive-only training for this.
So far, it's working well. Bruno willingly submits to the collar, and is even eager to have it on (because he's built a positive association as well: e-collar=going for a walk). His recall is getting much better, thanks to the doggy crack I tend to carry around with me. (Yes, I know, it's a horrible, horrible product, that will rot his teeth, make him fart, etc. But it works, and only takes a little bit at a time.)
So I will not say that "E-Collars are for evil dog abusers!" or "E-Collars are wonderful, and people who hate them are pansies!" I have a specific use for one, and it works for me and my dog. I would strongly hesitate to use it for anything other than predatory aggression, though.
Rabbitstick
Rabbitstick: a primitive weapon used somewhat like a boomerang (also originally a weapon, did you know that?) to kill rabbits.
Rabbitstick: A crazy weeklong gathering of the sort of people who know how to use, well, rabbitsticks. And atlatls. And blowguns, flint knives, etc. A /school/party/reunion of folks from all over America (and some from abroad too) that delight in wearing animals skins (that they've tanned and sewed themselves, of course) using caveman tools, sharing wild food recipes, making medicine from what the earth gives us, and many other "obsolete" activities. It's hosted in mid-September (coming up soon!) eastern Idaho, and it costs about 300 dollars for a week of food, camping, porta-pottie use, and of course, classes to take.
I've been before- twice, actually. It's an amazing experience. The first time I went, I felt like I had found my tribe- people who seemed so real, so grounded, so skilled in a way most people today are not. It's almost mind-blowing; I really have NO IDEA how this computer works that I'm typing on right now. And only a vague understanding of the car I drive, and most other complex tools. But for most of human history, people didn't own ANYTHING they hadn't made themselves, or traded something they made for something someone else made. Nowadays, almost none of us have what it takes to you know, actually survive. Feed ourselves, clothe ourselves, stay warm and dry at night.
These folks DO have that. Going there, I feel human in a different way than my ordinary technology-rich life, and it's refreshing. Of course, there are plenty of neophytes in attendance as well, not just experts- I'm more of an expert on some things that many people. But they're all TRYING to be that kind of person, that knows exactly where and how everything he uses was made, and could duplicate it if necessary.
Primitive skills are not "useful" in the modern world- they won't get you a job, make you any money (unless you are slick enough to find acolytes who will pay you to teach classes) and sure doesn't help attract a mate, unless you want the hairy/smelly caveman/woman type (that's not so bad, actually...) but it helps ease the sense of helplessness and disconnection we all face in an increasingly automated world. And that's never a bad thing.
Rabbitstick: A crazy weeklong gathering of the sort of people who know how to use, well, rabbitsticks. And atlatls. And blowguns, flint knives, etc. A /school/party/reunion of folks from all over America (and some from abroad too) that delight in wearing animals skins (that they've tanned and sewed themselves, of course) using caveman tools, sharing wild food recipes, making medicine from what the earth gives us, and many other "obsolete" activities. It's hosted in mid-September (coming up soon!) eastern Idaho, and it costs about 300 dollars for a week of food, camping, porta-pottie use, and of course, classes to take.
I've been before- twice, actually. It's an amazing experience. The first time I went, I felt like I had found my tribe- people who seemed so real, so grounded, so skilled in a way most people today are not. It's almost mind-blowing; I really have NO IDEA how this computer works that I'm typing on right now. And only a vague understanding of the car I drive, and most other complex tools. But for most of human history, people didn't own ANYTHING they hadn't made themselves, or traded something they made for something someone else made. Nowadays, almost none of us have what it takes to you know, actually survive. Feed ourselves, clothe ourselves, stay warm and dry at night.
These folks DO have that. Going there, I feel human in a different way than my ordinary technology-rich life, and it's refreshing. Of course, there are plenty of neophytes in attendance as well, not just experts- I'm more of an expert on some things that many people. But they're all TRYING to be that kind of person, that knows exactly where and how everything he uses was made, and could duplicate it if necessary.
Primitive skills are not "useful" in the modern world- they won't get you a job, make you any money (unless you are slick enough to find acolytes who will pay you to teach classes) and sure doesn't help attract a mate, unless you want the hairy/smelly caveman/woman type (that's not so bad, actually...) but it helps ease the sense of helplessness and disconnection we all face in an increasingly automated world. And that's never a bad thing.
Close Call
I should write about this while it's still fresh in my memory and before I make the same mistake again (hopefully NEVER!)
While hiking on Mt. Hood, Bruno got loose from me and chased a deer. He was only gone about 15 minutes, but it could have been forever. If he hadn't come back, he could have been lost in a huge, mostly roadless and trail-less, VERY rugged wildness. There was even a sign at the trailhead warning that the Sheriff's Dept. will NOT do technical rescues for stranded dogs- if your dog falls down a crevasse, it's your problem, not theirs.
So why did I let this happen? Stupidity. I chose NOT to put his remote collar on him that day, because I hadn't needed to correct him at all the previous day, and I wanted to save it's battery. For WHAT? This was exactly the kind of situation the collar prevents. I thought that since I had him trained not to chase cats, chickens, and squirrels, it would translate into "not chase anything."
Why? I KNOW that dogs are very poor at generalizing. Temple Grandin has said over and over in her books (several of which I've read and loved) that animals can't generalize, or can only do it in limited ways. That's why puppy socialization is SO important. Dogs don't know that ALL children are safe if they've only met a few, or ALL cats or ALL farm animals, even ALL types of flooring or weather. They need to experience as many things as possible while the critical period of socialization is still open. I'm quite sure Bruno's first owner totally missed the ball on that one, by the way.
So he spots a deer on the trail. In only a few seconds, I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "What is that? Can I chase it? It looks fun, but what if I get punished?" He turned back and looked at me, very briefly, as if to make up his mind. Then he's off like a shot, double-suspension gallop down a 45% slope in dense forest. The deer obviously did not trip the trained response in his brain that predatory chase=painful correction, that IS activated for cats and squirrels. It didn't fit.
I didn't have a compass, so I knew it would be utterly foolish to chase after him. What if I got lost too? I called and called and called, and then sat down and cried. All this work I've put into him, for nothing! I threw it away by not putting his e-collar on him, and so was unable to stop him and use this as a training experience, instead of a tragedy. I even prayed a little, and I don't consider myself a Christian these days.
Thankfully, he DID come to his senses and return to me, out-of-breath and overheated. I leashed him up and we continued the rest of the day on-leash, until I got back to camp and put his e-collar on.
I still don't exactly why I chose not to put it on him that day. Foggy lazy thinking. Makes no sense whatsoever. But I'm determined not to let it happen again.
Sidenote about e-collar training: I was harshly criticized by a few people on the dogster forums for using a remote shock collar, aka electronic collar, training collar, e-collar, etc. This is the collar I use. The ONLY time I use it is for stopping predatory chasing. NOT when he's just disobeying me- I deal with that in other ways, mostly positive. I am a fan of Temple Grandin, previously mentioned, and to her, the only ethical use of a shock collar is to stop predatory aggression. The short, sharp shock totally trips up their emotional track and short-circuits the prey drive. It has worked AMAZINGLY well on Bruno, I hardly ever have to correct him since I started it a couple months ago, and most of his behavior changed within a week of using it.
His prey drive was out of control. He would go NUTS strangling himself on his collar, screaming and barking to get to whatever it was, cat, squirrel, chicken, even large livestock like goats and horses. This was DANGEROUS behavior, and it was a choice of 1. Give him to someone with a VERY secure fence and no livestock nearby (unlikely to happen) 2. Euthanize him 3. Train him to have self-control, and the collar seemed the most effective way to do that.
He is NOT traumatized or shell-shocked into zombie-like behavior, as some people will assume with shock-collar training. He seems much calmer and more balanced on walks, now that he is not searching for animals to chase. His ears and tail say that he's calm and happy.
While hiking on Mt. Hood, Bruno got loose from me and chased a deer. He was only gone about 15 minutes, but it could have been forever. If he hadn't come back, he could have been lost in a huge, mostly roadless and trail-less, VERY rugged wildness. There was even a sign at the trailhead warning that the Sheriff's Dept. will NOT do technical rescues for stranded dogs- if your dog falls down a crevasse, it's your problem, not theirs.
So why did I let this happen? Stupidity. I chose NOT to put his remote collar on him that day, because I hadn't needed to correct him at all the previous day, and I wanted to save it's battery. For WHAT? This was exactly the kind of situation the collar prevents. I thought that since I had him trained not to chase cats, chickens, and squirrels, it would translate into "not chase anything."
Why? I KNOW that dogs are very poor at generalizing. Temple Grandin has said over and over in her books (several of which I've read and loved) that animals can't generalize, or can only do it in limited ways. That's why puppy socialization is SO important. Dogs don't know that ALL children are safe if they've only met a few, or ALL cats or ALL farm animals, even ALL types of flooring or weather. They need to experience as many things as possible while the critical period of socialization is still open. I'm quite sure Bruno's first owner totally missed the ball on that one, by the way.
So he spots a deer on the trail. In only a few seconds, I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "What is that? Can I chase it? It looks fun, but what if I get punished?" He turned back and looked at me, very briefly, as if to make up his mind. Then he's off like a shot, double-suspension gallop down a 45% slope in dense forest. The deer obviously did not trip the trained response in his brain that predatory chase=painful correction, that IS activated for cats and squirrels. It didn't fit.
I didn't have a compass, so I knew it would be utterly foolish to chase after him. What if I got lost too? I called and called and called, and then sat down and cried. All this work I've put into him, for nothing! I threw it away by not putting his e-collar on him, and so was unable to stop him and use this as a training experience, instead of a tragedy. I even prayed a little, and I don't consider myself a Christian these days.
Thankfully, he DID come to his senses and return to me, out-of-breath and overheated. I leashed him up and we continued the rest of the day on-leash, until I got back to camp and put his e-collar on.
I still don't exactly why I chose not to put it on him that day. Foggy lazy thinking. Makes no sense whatsoever. But I'm determined not to let it happen again.
Sidenote about e-collar training: I was harshly criticized by a few people on the dogster forums for using a remote shock collar, aka electronic collar, training collar, e-collar, etc. This is the collar I use. The ONLY time I use it is for stopping predatory chasing. NOT when he's just disobeying me- I deal with that in other ways, mostly positive. I am a fan of Temple Grandin, previously mentioned, and to her, the only ethical use of a shock collar is to stop predatory aggression. The short, sharp shock totally trips up their emotional track and short-circuits the prey drive. It has worked AMAZINGLY well on Bruno, I hardly ever have to correct him since I started it a couple months ago, and most of his behavior changed within a week of using it.
His prey drive was out of control. He would go NUTS strangling himself on his collar, screaming and barking to get to whatever it was, cat, squirrel, chicken, even large livestock like goats and horses. This was DANGEROUS behavior, and it was a choice of 1. Give him to someone with a VERY secure fence and no livestock nearby (unlikely to happen) 2. Euthanize him 3. Train him to have self-control, and the collar seemed the most effective way to do that.
He is NOT traumatized or shell-shocked into zombie-like behavior, as some people will assume with shock-collar training. He seems much calmer and more balanced on walks, now that he is not searching for animals to chase. His ears and tail say that he's calm and happy.
Pictures!
This is Zigzag canyon (I think? There were a lot of canyons on the trail)
A beautiful flower that I have no clue what it's called. Only found it in one place along the trail.
It's hard to convey the scale here- this is a MASSIVE mountain, and that waterfall ain't just a trickle. It was truly an awe-inspiring vista.
And last, yours truly looking sunburned and sweaty, with Zero Zero sneaking up behind me (didn't know he was there as I was taking this.)
It was a great trip, even though I bit off more than I could chew, exercise-wise, (am very sore in the legs today) I had a good time, the weather was decent, and I'm sure Bruno enjoyed it.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Inspiration
Hey again!
I'm just back from Mt. Hood. I chickened out, and didn't try for the full circle around the mountain, since a section of it is actually closed, and well, I'm not in as good of shape as I thought I was. (sigh.)
But how's this for inspiration:
Hike the Pacfic Crest Trail. Start at the Mexican border. Go all the way to Canada. Do it alone. And one more thing: You're completely blind.
I met Trevor Thomas, aka Zero Zero, who is doing exactly that. It's not immediately obvious that he is disabled- in fact, I wouldn't say he is "disabled" at all. He's doing something most sighted people will never do, and just as well as any other hiker.
I was sitting down at a creekside on the Mt. Hood section of the PCT, and he came walking up behind me, went around me, and sat down as well. I asked him if he was a thru-hiker, and he said he was (I'd met several before that as well- this is the time of year when most of them are passing through this area.)
We were chatting merrily, and I happened to ask him if he had a map I could look at, because I accidentally left mine in my car. He said (and I'll never forget this) "Yeah sure, but I can't read it. I'm blind."
"You mean legally blind, like it's just really blurry?"
"No, like I can't see you in from of me."
Wow. I was floored! There was NO indication that he was blind- he looked at me while he was talking, and skillfully navigated around obstacles. And lots of hikers carry ski poles for balance, that wasn't unusually at all.
"How do you know which way to go at forks in the trail?"
"Well, my friends walking ahead of me will leave three sticks in a pattern, and when I find that I know that's the right way."
"I bet you can tell a LOT about people from how they sound."
"Yep, and I echolocate too. That's how I knew you were sitting on the ground there."
This guy's hearing is SERIOUSLY acute. He said that he knew I had a dog even though Bruno was just lying quietly on the ground, because he could hear him breathing- over the clatter of a rushing stream!
This guy is so inspiring to me- even more so now that I've looked him up, and found out he's only been blind for about 5 years- I supposed one had to be born that way to get around so well sightless. He said in the interview I read "that it was like being in the prime of your life and having to go back to kindergarten. You have to learn everything all over again." Bravo to you, Zero! I would never have known, if you hadn't told me.
Oh, and he's a SUPER nice guy. He'd be worth meeting even without the dose of wow.
I'm just back from Mt. Hood. I chickened out, and didn't try for the full circle around the mountain, since a section of it is actually closed, and well, I'm not in as good of shape as I thought I was. (sigh.)
But how's this for inspiration:
Hike the Pacfic Crest Trail. Start at the Mexican border. Go all the way to Canada. Do it alone. And one more thing: You're completely blind.
I met Trevor Thomas, aka Zero Zero, who is doing exactly that. It's not immediately obvious that he is disabled- in fact, I wouldn't say he is "disabled" at all. He's doing something most sighted people will never do, and just as well as any other hiker.
I was sitting down at a creekside on the Mt. Hood section of the PCT, and he came walking up behind me, went around me, and sat down as well. I asked him if he was a thru-hiker, and he said he was (I'd met several before that as well- this is the time of year when most of them are passing through this area.)
We were chatting merrily, and I happened to ask him if he had a map I could look at, because I accidentally left mine in my car. He said (and I'll never forget this) "Yeah sure, but I can't read it. I'm blind."
"You mean legally blind, like it's just really blurry?"
"No, like I can't see you in from of me."
Wow. I was floored! There was NO indication that he was blind- he looked at me while he was talking, and skillfully navigated around obstacles. And lots of hikers carry ski poles for balance, that wasn't unusually at all.
"How do you know which way to go at forks in the trail?"
"Well, my friends walking ahead of me will leave three sticks in a pattern, and when I find that I know that's the right way."
"I bet you can tell a LOT about people from how they sound."
"Yep, and I echolocate too. That's how I knew you were sitting on the ground there."
This guy's hearing is SERIOUSLY acute. He said that he knew I had a dog even though Bruno was just lying quietly on the ground, because he could hear him breathing- over the clatter of a rushing stream!
This guy is so inspiring to me- even more so now that I've looked him up, and found out he's only been blind for about 5 years- I supposed one had to be born that way to get around so well sightless. He said in the interview I read "that it was like being in the prime of your life and having to go back to kindergarten. You have to learn everything all over again." Bravo to you, Zero! I would never have known, if you hadn't told me.
Oh, and he's a SUPER nice guy. He'd be worth meeting even without the dose of wow.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Going up to the mountain tomorrow!
I really should be packing and sorting my gear and food for tomorrow instead of writing this! I'm planning to leave early in the morning to buy food, gas up the car, and then head out.
The trail I plan to do is the timberline loop trail around Mt. Hood, Oregon's favorite mountain. Wish me luck!
The trail I plan to do is the timberline loop trail around Mt. Hood, Oregon's favorite mountain. Wish me luck!
I am not an expert
despite being called "encyclopedia" and not-so-nice things since I was a kid. Anything I write here is 100% opinion, occasionally backed up with facts when I can find them. Read at your own risk...
Are there really "cat people" and "dog people"?
I wonder this because I have been both during my life so far. I don't mean I liked cats and dogs equally; I mean I was a CAT PERSON, 100%, had no time for dogs, ignored and even disliked them, but since I got one for myself (another long story about how that happened) I have come around to the other point of view- I love cats, but would rather own a dog if I had to choose.
Stanley Coren, author of many popular books about dogs, thinks there is a real, innate difference between the two. (Though he also believes in innate personality differences between breeds of dog, something I'm not so sure of.) I think it's in his book "Why We Love the Dogs We Do" (but I'm not sure, he has written a whole stack of dog books) that he posits that cat people are basically less caring, more self-centered and more shallow than dog people, and they prefer a pet that doesn't need emotional input because they are unable to give affection. There are two kinds of cat owners- real cat people, and dog people who happen to have cats because they are unable to get a dog for the moment.
I don't buy it... Cats are not lesser than dogs... just different. His sample was very small and probably biased. I think he is just not a fan of cats, and trying to justify it.
So what are the real differences between the animals themselves, before talking about their respective devotees?
Affection: Both are affectionate. People who say cats are not affectionate must have never owned a cuddly cat! Some dogs are also NOT affectionate, contrary to stereotypes of the mushy dog and aloof cat.
Independence: Cats win this one. Your average cat will be quite fine left in a house all day or let outside to attend to his own agenda. Dogs... well not so much. But people who claim that cats are naturally solitary are wrong too. Feral cats live in colonies, and while they don't hunt together, they do socialize, even sleeping and playing together as adults. Indoor cats should have at least one cat friend to keep them company.
Cleanliness: Lots of people (including myself at one point) prefer cats because they are easier to live with. Cats don't need baths, don't track mud into the house, etc. But they do shed like crazy! After seeing both, I think cat hair is more obnoxious- there's tons of it, it's fine and floats in the air whereas dog hair just sticks to the carpet and furniture. Dogs can be smelly, but that's only if you don't bathe or brush them. And cat litterboxes stink worse.
Quietness: Cats win. Most dog owners are just used to it, but barking dogs are a serious nuisance for everyone else. I used to HATE barking until I got a dog who barks (whaddya know?). Some dogs don't, actually. My previous dog, Ginger, never barked. And some cats are noisy little bastards. But at least a yowling siamese can't be heard miles away.
Trainability: Dogs win. Yes, SOME people have success in training cats (see the Cat Circus if you don't believe this) but ANYONE can train a dog, even your doofus redneck next-door-neighbor can make his dog "sit." But cats don't "need" training the way a dog does- their natural behavior is much less annoying/dangerous. So this might be a tie, actually.
Other factors: Dogs generally travel better than cats- cats are more stressed out by changes in routine. Cats have softer fur than most dogs, and are nicer to pet. Cats purr. Dogs can guard your house, and so on. Cats claw the furniture, dogs chew it.
I think in the end, both camps are right. Dogs are needy, they take a lot more work to train them, exercise them, and they cost more, but they give you so much back in terms of trainability, devotion, they will go anywhere with you, protect you, etc. Cats are soft, affectionate, low-maintenance critters who give you companionship and affectionate for almost no work on your part.
If it comes down to "bang for your buck" it looks about equal. It just depends on your lifestyle which one suits you better. And people who consider themselves exclusive fans of one or the other should not be so quick to judge.
Stanley Coren, author of many popular books about dogs, thinks there is a real, innate difference between the two. (Though he also believes in innate personality differences between breeds of dog, something I'm not so sure of.) I think it's in his book "Why We Love the Dogs We Do" (but I'm not sure, he has written a whole stack of dog books) that he posits that cat people are basically less caring, more self-centered and more shallow than dog people, and they prefer a pet that doesn't need emotional input because they are unable to give affection. There are two kinds of cat owners- real cat people, and dog people who happen to have cats because they are unable to get a dog for the moment.
I don't buy it... Cats are not lesser than dogs... just different. His sample was very small and probably biased. I think he is just not a fan of cats, and trying to justify it.
So what are the real differences between the animals themselves, before talking about their respective devotees?
Affection: Both are affectionate. People who say cats are not affectionate must have never owned a cuddly cat! Some dogs are also NOT affectionate, contrary to stereotypes of the mushy dog and aloof cat.
Independence: Cats win this one. Your average cat will be quite fine left in a house all day or let outside to attend to his own agenda. Dogs... well not so much. But people who claim that cats are naturally solitary are wrong too. Feral cats live in colonies, and while they don't hunt together, they do socialize, even sleeping and playing together as adults. Indoor cats should have at least one cat friend to keep them company.
Cleanliness: Lots of people (including myself at one point) prefer cats because they are easier to live with. Cats don't need baths, don't track mud into the house, etc. But they do shed like crazy! After seeing both, I think cat hair is more obnoxious- there's tons of it, it's fine and floats in the air whereas dog hair just sticks to the carpet and furniture. Dogs can be smelly, but that's only if you don't bathe or brush them. And cat litterboxes stink worse.
Quietness: Cats win. Most dog owners are just used to it, but barking dogs are a serious nuisance for everyone else. I used to HATE barking until I got a dog who barks (whaddya know?). Some dogs don't, actually. My previous dog, Ginger, never barked. And some cats are noisy little bastards. But at least a yowling siamese can't be heard miles away.
Trainability: Dogs win. Yes, SOME people have success in training cats (see the Cat Circus if you don't believe this) but ANYONE can train a dog, even your doofus redneck next-door-neighbor can make his dog "sit." But cats don't "need" training the way a dog does- their natural behavior is much less annoying/dangerous. So this might be a tie, actually.
Other factors: Dogs generally travel better than cats- cats are more stressed out by changes in routine. Cats have softer fur than most dogs, and are nicer to pet. Cats purr. Dogs can guard your house, and so on. Cats claw the furniture, dogs chew it.
I think in the end, both camps are right. Dogs are needy, they take a lot more work to train them, exercise them, and they cost more, but they give you so much back in terms of trainability, devotion, they will go anywhere with you, protect you, etc. Cats are soft, affectionate, low-maintenance critters who give you companionship and affectionate for almost no work on your part.
If it comes down to "bang for your buck" it looks about equal. It just depends on your lifestyle which one suits you better. And people who consider themselves exclusive fans of one or the other should not be so quick to judge.
how does this thing work?
I am still figuring out how to use Blogger to get things done- I have always a been a consumer of content more than a creator of it, so don't expect anything fancy here...
Figuring out how make links: if these work, I did it right.
my favorite forum
my current favorite blog
And how to do images...
So, not exactly sure how this will line up... That's what preview is for, right?
Figuring out how make links: if these work, I did it right.
my favorite forum
my current favorite blog
And how to do images...
 |
| Bruno with his cute backpack on the PCT |
So, not exactly sure how this will line up... That's what preview is for, right?
 |
| me on a fencepost at hell's canyon |
Should I go back to college?
Karen Pryor Academy (dog training school) prefers applicants with at least 2 years of college. Drat! I wonder if I could somehow turn my 3 semesters at Lewis and Clark into something useful, instead of a useless money pit...
I'm going to go browse Clackamas Community College's website. Maybe the credits from LC could transfer.
I'm going to go browse Clackamas Community College's website. Maybe the credits from LC could transfer.
Bruno's Story
Bruno is a dog.
Bruno is a mixed-breed dog.
Bruno is a mixed-breed shelter dog.
Bruno is a big, black, mixed breed shelter dog.
Bruno is a big, black, mixed-breed high-kill "shelter" dog.
With each statement, his chances of making it out alive got less and less. He is one of the lucky ones at Pima Animal Care and Control, PACC, of Tucson, AZ. Last time I looked at the pet section of Tucson's craigslist, someone had posted that they killed 54 dogs in a day. None of these dogs were "unadoptable"; some were sick with minor illnesses (usually URI, upper respiratory infection- a cold), others had treatable injuries (such as from fighting with kennelmates, the dogs are kept 2-3 to a cage) some were pregnant or lactating, some were starved and skinny, and others were "too shy to adopt". Some had simply run out of time, and were killed to make room for new inmates.
Before their time was up, the dogs were kept in concrete-floored runs, overcrowded, no beds to lie on, and no walks except for the occasional volunteer. Even dogs previously housetrained were forced to eliminate in their sleeping area, which is very stressful to dogs.
For these reasons, it was practically imperative that I save a dog from that hellhole. I was visiting my dear sister Molly in Tucson, where she lived at the time. I was in Arizona to go to a primitive-skills campout/seminar called WinterCount (see backtracks.net for more info, if you're curious.) I had just lost my dear friend Ginger, an 11-year old racing-bred Alaskan Husky, and was craving canine companionship. (Ginger deserves a whole post of her own to tell her story, so I'll save it until then.)
So without telling anyone my plans, I sneaked out of her house, down to the pound "just to look at the dogs" and maybe choose one to come back and adopt later, after thinking about it for a few days. NOT! I had seen on their website that Bruno was half-price because he'd been there nearly two months, and though he didn't have a set "expiration date," his time was running out. I saw him sitting sadly in his kennel and it was love (or maybe pity) at first sight. I also said "Oh! I thought he was bigger!" because in his photo on the web, he looked Labrador or German Shepherd sized. Here was a trim little 50-pounder, not an 80 lb bruiser. "Bruno! What a dumb name! I'll have to change that," I thought. Ha- famous last words...
So I took him, paid my money, and walked out with a dog. Now what? I had no way to get him back to Molly's house, as I didn't have a car. This is how I even got to the shelter in the first place:
I had started walking, but it was WAYYY farther than it looked on a map. And it was hot, so I sat down at a bus shelter to wait and rest. As it ended up, a man who started talking to me offered to drive me the rest of the way there. Ah, what the heck. I have my phone and it's not far, I figured. The car was littered with McDonald's wrappers and there was a glass pipe full of marijuana in plain site. But he was kind.
How to get back? Well, Mr. messy-car-pothead had given me his phone number in a vain attempt to flirt with me, so I called him back, and he came and picked me and my new dog up and drove us to Molly's house.
The first thing anyone said when we came in the door- "Whose dog is that?" Well, he's mine now...
A few days passed, while I next put my brain to work figuring out how to get him and me back to Oregon. (for anyone not familiar with Western American Geography, that's a two day drive, at least.) Still no car. No money to pay for a plane ticket and have him in cargo. No dogs allowed on Greyhound (ironic, eh?) So that left one choice: The almightly CRAIGSLIST RIDESHARE.
I replied to posts that were even reasonable close to my destination- San Fran? Sure, I can find someone to take me the rest of the way to Portland. Seattle? Okay, just drop me off along the way. Boy, I can tell you, there are so WEIRD people out there. My first ride I thought I'd figured emailed me to tell me she decided to leave early without me. One guy insisted that I not wear deodorant while in his car. One guy told me that he had to stop in Indio, CA, so he could use his foodstamps. "No, dude, food stamps are a NATIONAL program, you can use them anywhere in the USA." He was sure that since he applied for them in Indio, he had to use them there. No use arguing with stupid, I guess...
I ended up getting a ride with a long-haul trucker (name withheld because he broke his company's rules to take me.) He was taking a load of scrap metal from Phoenix to San Francisco, and then going home to Portland. Score! A direct route.
The drive took two days. Where did we sleep? The cab of the truck had buckbeds in it- I took the top one, the trucker took the bottom. He snored like a jackhammer! During the day, we talked about the few things we had in common (a love of travel, dog ownership, that was pretty much it.) He said he wanted to get a dog to ride in his truck with him, but hadn't decided what kind would be best.
After 2 days and hundreds of miles and learning more than I will ever need to know about commercial trucking, we pulled in Portland, Oregon, my home town, and as they say, the rest is history.
Bruno is a mixed-breed dog.
Bruno is a mixed-breed shelter dog.
Bruno is a big, black, mixed breed shelter dog.
Bruno is a big, black, mixed-breed high-kill "shelter" dog.
With each statement, his chances of making it out alive got less and less. He is one of the lucky ones at Pima Animal Care and Control, PACC, of Tucson, AZ. Last time I looked at the pet section of Tucson's craigslist, someone had posted that they killed 54 dogs in a day. None of these dogs were "unadoptable"; some were sick with minor illnesses (usually URI, upper respiratory infection- a cold), others had treatable injuries (such as from fighting with kennelmates, the dogs are kept 2-3 to a cage) some were pregnant or lactating, some were starved and skinny, and others were "too shy to adopt". Some had simply run out of time, and were killed to make room for new inmates.
Before their time was up, the dogs were kept in concrete-floored runs, overcrowded, no beds to lie on, and no walks except for the occasional volunteer. Even dogs previously housetrained were forced to eliminate in their sleeping area, which is very stressful to dogs.
For these reasons, it was practically imperative that I save a dog from that hellhole. I was visiting my dear sister Molly in Tucson, where she lived at the time. I was in Arizona to go to a primitive-skills campout/seminar called WinterCount (see backtracks.net for more info, if you're curious.) I had just lost my dear friend Ginger, an 11-year old racing-bred Alaskan Husky, and was craving canine companionship. (Ginger deserves a whole post of her own to tell her story, so I'll save it until then.)
So without telling anyone my plans, I sneaked out of her house, down to the pound "just to look at the dogs" and maybe choose one to come back and adopt later, after thinking about it for a few days. NOT! I had seen on their website that Bruno was half-price because he'd been there nearly two months, and though he didn't have a set "expiration date," his time was running out. I saw him sitting sadly in his kennel and it was love (or maybe pity) at first sight. I also said "Oh! I thought he was bigger!" because in his photo on the web, he looked Labrador or German Shepherd sized. Here was a trim little 50-pounder, not an 80 lb bruiser. "Bruno! What a dumb name! I'll have to change that," I thought. Ha- famous last words...
So I took him, paid my money, and walked out with a dog. Now what? I had no way to get him back to Molly's house, as I didn't have a car. This is how I even got to the shelter in the first place:
I had started walking, but it was WAYYY farther than it looked on a map. And it was hot, so I sat down at a bus shelter to wait and rest. As it ended up, a man who started talking to me offered to drive me the rest of the way there. Ah, what the heck. I have my phone and it's not far, I figured. The car was littered with McDonald's wrappers and there was a glass pipe full of marijuana in plain site. But he was kind.
How to get back? Well, Mr. messy-car-pothead had given me his phone number in a vain attempt to flirt with me, so I called him back, and he came and picked me and my new dog up and drove us to Molly's house.
The first thing anyone said when we came in the door- "Whose dog is that?" Well, he's mine now...
A few days passed, while I next put my brain to work figuring out how to get him and me back to Oregon. (for anyone not familiar with Western American Geography, that's a two day drive, at least.) Still no car. No money to pay for a plane ticket and have him in cargo. No dogs allowed on Greyhound (ironic, eh?) So that left one choice: The almightly CRAIGSLIST RIDESHARE.
I replied to posts that were even reasonable close to my destination- San Fran? Sure, I can find someone to take me the rest of the way to Portland. Seattle? Okay, just drop me off along the way. Boy, I can tell you, there are so WEIRD people out there. My first ride I thought I'd figured emailed me to tell me she decided to leave early without me. One guy insisted that I not wear deodorant while in his car. One guy told me that he had to stop in Indio, CA, so he could use his foodstamps. "No, dude, food stamps are a NATIONAL program, you can use them anywhere in the USA." He was sure that since he applied for them in Indio, he had to use them there. No use arguing with stupid, I guess...
I ended up getting a ride with a long-haul trucker (name withheld because he broke his company's rules to take me.) He was taking a load of scrap metal from Phoenix to San Francisco, and then going home to Portland. Score! A direct route.
The drive took two days. Where did we sleep? The cab of the truck had buckbeds in it- I took the top one, the trucker took the bottom. He snored like a jackhammer! During the day, we talked about the few things we had in common (a love of travel, dog ownership, that was pretty much it.) He said he wanted to get a dog to ride in his truck with him, but hadn't decided what kind would be best.
After 2 days and hundreds of miles and learning more than I will ever need to know about commercial trucking, we pulled in Portland, Oregon, my home town, and as they say, the rest is history.
Who is this Claire person anyway?
Okay, this is the post where I introduce myself to my (currently non-existent) readership.
Hello, my name is Claire and I'm an internet-aholic.
My current favorite blogs are Cake Wrecks and Ruffly Speaking. I also spend a lot of time on the forums at dogster.com.
I'm obsessed with my rescue mutt, Bruno, and dogs in general.
I spend a lot of time scheming about how to survive in the modern world without resorting to corporate prostitution. So far, the things I know I can do:
1. Train dogs. I'd like to get some formal schooling and experience in this, but I think I've got the basics, and I find it absolutely fascinating.
2. Make pottery- handbuilt and wheel-thrown. I am particularly enamored of the primitive open-pit style of pottery firing. It's like going back in time to our caveman days, making things out of mud and baking them in the fire!
3. Not die in the wilderness... I can make a fire without matches, pick the right wild plants and mushrooms to not get poisoned, build a shelter, navigate and tell time by the sun and stars, get drinking water almost anywhere, and be generally self-sufficient.
4. Be a lazy butt and read blogs, forums, and articles on the internet all day.
Anyone know a good way to combine all these and make a living at it?
Hello, my name is Claire and I'm an internet-aholic.
My current favorite blogs are Cake Wrecks and Ruffly Speaking. I also spend a lot of time on the forums at dogster.com.
I'm obsessed with my rescue mutt, Bruno, and dogs in general.
I spend a lot of time scheming about how to survive in the modern world without resorting to corporate prostitution. So far, the things I know I can do:
1. Train dogs. I'd like to get some formal schooling and experience in this, but I think I've got the basics, and I find it absolutely fascinating.
2. Make pottery- handbuilt and wheel-thrown. I am particularly enamored of the primitive open-pit style of pottery firing. It's like going back in time to our caveman days, making things out of mud and baking them in the fire!
3. Not die in the wilderness... I can make a fire without matches, pick the right wild plants and mushrooms to not get poisoned, build a shelter, navigate and tell time by the sun and stars, get drinking water almost anywhere, and be generally self-sufficient.
4. Be a lazy butt and read blogs, forums, and articles on the internet all day.
Anyone know a good way to combine all these and make a living at it?
Well, here goes nothing...
This is my first post on this new blog. I've dabbled a little in blogging before (livejournal, myspace, facebook) but this is fo' real, people. If I don't keep up with this on a regular basis, you can come over to my house and kick my butt.
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