Category Archives: animals

Do Dogs Dream?

Posted on April 27, 2017 | Leave a comment

Cesar Millan asked this question last week and his site would not allow me to respond. Yes, they do dream. Our 13 year-old Zoe just had one and I hated to leave her to come in here and write this. She’s a herder and will be by my side in under three minutes.

The tail wags, ears twitch, eyes open and close. Then the entire body twitches and the paws run like crazy. Sometimes she awakens for a walk and breakfast, and sometimes the REM phase just puts her back asleep. I like to guess whether it’s a squirrel, bunny or mouse. When she was young and faster she did kill two mice with precision and my husband took each out of her mouth immediately and fed them to the baby birds over the fence in the protected wildlife area. 1,200 acres, five feet away. Moose crashed a wedding and elk jumped the fence and crossed the highway. I used to make our bedroom balcony available for credentialed photographers. What a view.

The baby colts (young Greater Sandhill Cranes) would make sounds at night. I’d awaken and tell my husband that mom was going to the 7-11 to get them something to eat. There was no 7-11, and we didn’t see any this year. Years ago there was a fox that hung out there for hours every day, waiting for the 6′ parents to leave their colts. They never did, “married” for life and raised colts every year. The fox always left, disappointed. Hey, you just chose the wrong prey!

Yes, dogs do dream. She’s never had a thing for any bird, as there is a turkey who lives in our neighborhood and he is pardoned by all of us every Thanksgiving! She just ignores him as she walks by on leash.

She has been with me for 20 minutes and can jump down, just not up. Time for “last chance” and bed. You know who’s the boss now. It certainly is not me. Cheers! Dee

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Posted in animals, dogs, Editorial, editorial pets, Uncategorized

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Euthanasia

Posted on March 8, 2017 | 1 comment

Yes, it means death. It is allowed for pets but not for people. Only secretly for people.

For a cherished pet a proper parent should make the decision when there is no other alternative, hold that pet and be there.

For pets I would ask that there is a special room with a panic button. My old dog got up five times after the anesthesia and I couldn’t call on anyone. It was heartbreaking for me because I knew it was the last time I would see her alive and I didn’t want her to suffer. Because of what I went through, they’ve a “death wing” with a separate checkout and back door for payment, and the rooms have panic buttons to summon assistance.

I know that this is to prevent grieving pet owners from paying the death bill in front of others at the front desk. Two friends arrived at the hospital and visited my Chani before she died. In the end, Chani had bled out and had no hope of survival.

When I got home I called a dear friend and her husband answered the phone. Are you sitting down? Yes. I lost Chani. I’ll be right there to help you find her. This is an Army Ranger, yes, the Army Ranger.

No, she’s gone. What do you need? Companionship and a good glass of Pinot. He ran for me with a precious glass. I jumped the wall 200 feet away and we missed each other. He’d called his wife to come home, and when I arrived he arranged to have Chani’s remains given to me, not fodder for a pet cemetery.

I had spent six years trying to gain legal leash-free areas in our city. The entire neighborhood donated money to the city for a tree in her memory. The city decided the type, location and size of tree and the money and we paid  it. Then there was a big fight with neighbors who didn’t like dogs in “their” park.

Time was spent with both of my parents, who are gone now. They both had onsets of debilitating diseases that were accelerated by either medical mistakes or diseases of just being in a hospital. Mom died. Dad just died weeks ago. I can’t even find his grave. They both went through torture just to decide to die. My pets had a better death.

We scattered Chani’s ashes, at night, everywhere. But I’ve the last thing she brought to the park, a large teddy bear I bought at a garage sale for fifty cents, from a woman who hated me for trying to allow dogs in the park. A milliner friend, dear friend, placed ashes in the bear and sewed on a heart with lace and beading and everything.

I spoke with said other mother this evening. My new old dog, 13 years, would eat Chani’s bear so I keep it up high, always remembering the family that called me their daughter and still do so. She’s getting older. We had a good talk this evening and I promised a visit.

As to trees, there are so many now I can’t even see Chani’s on Google Earth. I heard the Wicked Witch of the West is no longer controlling “her” park so will visit, place flowers and water on her tree, and meet the people who made me, me. Thanks from your only daughter, Dee

 

 

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Posted in animals, Editorial, Family, truth, Zoe

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Haiku for Dad

Posted on October 1, 2016 | 1 comment

The kitten found me

Our deaths were not an option

We kept each other warm

 

***

Parents sent me to camp for a week. I hated it. Five mile hikes in the rain and 40 degree weather at night, my lame sleeping bag let me not sleep because of the cold then I had to drink prune juice every morning and use the loo with other girls into a chemical toilet.

My younger sister thrived on this stuff a week earlier. Now I spent my ten cents a day on two Peppermint Patties, wrote a postcard home and awaited my release.

That kitten saved both of us, and that has been a theme for many years and tears. He crawled under my crummy sleeping bag near my feet, I finally slept without freezing and we kept each other warm all night. I freaked out to find out there was a critter, and we checked it out. He was removed and probably killed.

For years I’ve worked for as a volunteer for feral cats and for shelter dogs and cats. He inspired me. The earliest memories are the purest of heart.

I think we should name him. I was just eight years old and thought the camp people were being nice. They were getting rid of vermin. He saved my life from frostbite. To this day I regret his demise.

Nathan and Mickey, I know you’re taking care of him up in the big blue sky. He inspired your unique personalities. At age eight, I did get a sense of what to do but forces were overwhelming and I didn’t have Dad to help. There were no cell phones, even land lines, there.

Paladin, “Pala to me” means character, nobility and courage. He saved my life. Cheers, Dee

 

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Fear

Posted on August 15, 2016 | Leave a comment

What did I fear most as a kid? I was afraid to be smart. Of course I was set aside as smart with another kid and we got to read real books, in the back of the classroom, years earlier than other students older than me.

I do not know what happened to my reading companion after that but we enjoyed studying different books together at the back of the classroom. We were made May Queen and May King for Mayfest in 2nd grade. That was a degree of notoriety I never intended. Reading and understanding and crying at home reading Death Be Not Proud was not something my fellow students wanted to know or learn. They were learning phonics, and S and I had already known how to read for years. We learned to read early and I taught my sister when she was four. Our parents fought ITA, phonics, for smart kids who were already reading 2+ years ahead.

Sitting in the back of the classroom, the new teacher, first day, would butcher my name.  I’d raise my hand and give them my nickname as they were not smart enough to master my given name. They didn’t care, nor did my parents for giving me the name. I did. I was a little kid with a big name. It was scary to raise my hand from the back of the room and say “call me Dee.” I love it now but still everyone calls me Dee.

They always put me in the front of the class, front of the grades until later when… that comes later.

I was always so shy. I did not raise my hand so was called on and always knew the answer. Now the Olympics are on the television and I got to see bits of W0mens’ gymnastic vaults and uneven bars. This was a passion I’ve had since before you were born. Olga Korbut, Nadia the perfect 10.

When my family moved to a new city it was summer and I was 15. I tried out for the gymnastics team before the season/school and made it. Then I was immediately made captain. I had been at an elite public school (ever seen the movie about the trouncing of my alma mater in football by TC Williams? Ask Denzel Washington about it as we were G.C .Marshall.)

I was a much better captain than gymnast. That’s why I like to think young girls like me made a new sport better by caring about it and trying to do better tricks than Olga Korbut could do in the seventies, and even the first ten Nadia who brought down everything in her brilliance.

Now I don’t even understand the scoring mechanisms and new rules but have loved seeing womens’ vault and uneven bars competitions. They are so beautiful, I could cry.

As a captain there are duties, leadership responsibilities, education. Foremost are inspiration, aspiration (life goals) and I believe there is kindness to others. These are high school kids. I’m captain of a ship my younger sister is on who wants me to fail every moment and this is high school.

It was difficult. I led some elite gymnasts and taught others. I taught one team-mate humility after she wanted to leave the State Finals after her own performance. I said her team was there for her, the best gymnast in our school, all along and we deserved her support until the end of the meet.

In the locker room I said unless she did this for her team, as the captain, she’s off the team as of now and I’ll tell our coach and she’ll tell the judges her captain says she’s off the team immediately and she will not win anything.

Guess who was in the stands cheering her team-mates? She won her award. I finally spoke out. These mates have been cheering you on all season. You have to cheer us on as well. She did it.

I know she did not do it for her team as she didn’t have a team except herself. She wanted the award but her team-mates needed to know she was there for them. I made sure that happened for them, not for her.  No-one knew except me and Coach, as I had to ask if I could strip her of her medal, and I hope this helps our old team and coach, and haunts her even now.

After 11 I need to go to bed because I’ll know what I missed and and have been up for nearly 17 hours because of family duties, tomorrow, friends, cheers from Dee

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted in animals, editorial pets, politics

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A Lot

Posted on July 5, 2016 | Leave a comment

First, I hope you enjoyed the holiday weekend. We did, quietly and went to a lovely dinner with former and current neighbors last evening. I got to make my usual trifle for dessert. We were home before the fireworks started, to take care of our old dog Zoe and assure she was not afraid of the noise.

Our friends F and M often make a great deal about dinner and appetizers. Last night F did a lot of work to make a true American feast. We had BBQ baby back ribs, potato salad and grilled corn on the cob. He never lets me work but allowed me to shuck the corn. Now that they’re a few blocks away we only see them a couple of times a year and it’s always a treat.

We’re going off on a trip to celebrate my father’s 85th birthday. Tomorrow we’ll trim Zoe’s nails (with an expert groomer, not me but I’ll be there to assist and keep her calm). Then she’ll try a couple of hours in open daycare with the older dogs and we’ll see how she does. A couple more of these half-days and I think she’ll be ready for an overnight. Yes, we’re leaving her there for a week. There are many phases to planning the trip, Zoe must be taken care of by the best people we can find.

As to vision, Zoe has an appointment for nails (no polish, thank you) and fun, and I’ve one to get a new lens for my new, expensive glasses I use every excuse not to wear. I’ve only had them for a month. They’re top of the line and there is a sweet spot on the right eye where I can actually see.

The problem is that I was born with a congenital defect. Certain vertebrae did not fully form, a fact I found out 30 years later. When I hit the “sweet spot” on the glasses they cause me spine issues. I’m more worried about my spine than I am a pair of glasses. It’s my first pair of gradiated bifocals and is taking time to learn to “follow my nose” as Zoe does, and use them. It is frustrating.

There’s another matter. Should we prop up my computer and television so I can hit that sweet spot on which I recently had surgery for a growth and was just diagnosed with a tiny cataract. I think the proof is in the pudding. Why keep glasses in the case all the time and use cheap readers for computer, cooking or television? I say make these work and have my old ones work as well if the new prescription is a winner. Old ones will be single vision, not bifocal.

I’ve many visions as to life and world and would love to see them through my eyes as well as my brain and heart. Cheers! Dee

 

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Posted in animals, dogs, Editorial, food, Recipe Ideas

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Poop

Posted on June 7, 2016 | Leave a comment

I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch but it has been due to our blog hosts. It’s also been a really bad month with health and death.

Our family has endured loss. I’ve an appointment with a vet next week and she wants poop from our dear old dog Zoe.  I need to know why, then when and how much if I agree to why.

Poop has always been the standard Dog Mom thing. Know what you give her/him to eat, know what comes out. Pick it up in a bag, tie it off and toss it into a bin.

Now I have to bring some, poop, that is. She’s been holding out on me a couple of days per week, because The Fun Guy is unavailable, I only stay with her, feed her, walk her but when he’s off on business she wants him. Same here as he’s lenient. Not even that, he’s eager to let her play off the leash and risk a ticket, court appearance and misdemeanor and losing his job forever. Zoe and I are joined at her non-hips, inseparable.

I know. I worked for leash-free areas for six years and my dog died while I went to nightly community meetings and regular City Council sessions. That demanded a lot of time, meeting with Council staff, collaborators and the enemy, four people that then added another four, my neighbors.

Fifteen years later I feel terrible that my dog didn’t get what she wanted, a leash-free park in our neighborhood. It’ not that she didn’t get it, it’s that I spent more time looking for that for her than I did with her. The priorities were not straight.

Older now, I cherish the times I had with her. She was abused by a deputy sheriff and was afraid of men (especially those in uniform or even a hat) and children.  In the years before she died, all the toddlers in the “tot lot” called out “CHANI” and ran out to pet her when we walked into the park. It was the opposite when we began.

I like to think that the wisdom my friends taught me, the politics, everything I did for my Chani went to good use. It always came back to one premise, if parents have expensive playground equipment paid for by our tax money, dog owners should share a piece of the park pie.

Dog owners without kids are already paying property taxes for schools and all the kids in the neighborhood so why not find a creative solution for people without back yards to let their dogs run free? Yes, six years and a dissertation I cannot find. It was brilliant, made the director of Park and Rec afraid of me and had one of the most powerful people there make me his co-head and VP of development on one park board.

It was severely dysfunctional as a Board of Trustees to I tried to change it, to no avail. I never mentioned or talked about the word dog in my two years there, only about our parks and how to raise awareness and funds.

The kind gents who put me in this situation and others were seeing if I could take the pressure in different venues at the same time. I wish they could do that now as I’m so much wiser over the years. At this time I could only mentor. It would be so difficult to have a recalcitrant student like me.

I spent six years trying to make it legal for my dog to chase a ball in her park. When she died 15 years ago the neighbors got together and bought a tree from the City’s Foundation in her memory. The eight city dog haters got together and banned the tree. It was a legal donation to the Foundation (I was VP) and Park and Rec had already determined type, size and location on their own to which we had all agreed, so the haters were placed aside for this battle. We held a tree-watering ceremony in her memory. There are so many trees that have been planted around it I can barely see it on Google Earth, much less put a cup of water on it myself or leave flowers as I’m many miles away.

Friends, family have taught me a lot about pressure, priorities, and when  to have your “sidearm” at the ready. Oh, there are no sidearms, everything in life is brains and politics. If your kids know how to fight with words, and have an education, they’ll be able to live their lives.

I got a good education throughout college. Some of my mentors were from there, two died recently. Be open and willing to learn, love your family and friends. Think of what the ones you love and loved taught you. Dee

ps And remind me to take Zoe’s poop to the vet!

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Posted in animals, editorial pets

Idea

Posted on April 19, 2016 | Leave a comment

My hip-less dog invited a blind dog in for the evening while his parents became our new (old) neighbors.

So I’m thinking we can invite over a deaf dog, one missing a kidney and one missing a leg.

Plus an artist and a deck of cards. It would be our own “dogs playing poker.” Thanks to all the veterinarians! Dee

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Barbie

Posted on April 13, 2016 | 2 comments

I was never allowed to have one, and really I didn’t understand why my girlfriends liked them. Years later, my favorite college professor, Fr. Cap taught a class on, yes, Barbie. He pointed out her proportions if the doll was made into a woman, and making that the standard for male likes of a female figure.

The numbers were grotesque and unimaginable. Even Kate Moss wouldn’t have made the cut. The most enviable class in school showed us that women can be women.

Fr. C and I were friends for over 40 years, he was my advisor, before he died.

So I went and got a Barbie of my own, over 12 years ago. She was from a shelter and had worms and coccidia. A couple months after we got her at six weeks, already spayed (I draw the line at 8 weeks, not five) I had to make a decision to get her hips removed. She grew her own from cartilage, there were no hip replacements for small dogs back then.

She prides herself on beauty sleep of at least 20 hours per day, wouldn’t I love to look that good as she’s way older than me in people years.

She sits by my feet at all times and follows me everywhere,doing a serpentine in front of me when I’ve a load of laundry to fold. How could Barbie do that?

She’s a sweet, smart, intense, demanding herding dog who loves to sleep on our bed and pester us. Right now my husband is working elsewhere so she’s extra vigilant and is sleeping under my desk.

Mom is long gone but I have My Barbie, and she’s real. A rescue with no hips. It’s taken a lot of time and effort and training but she’s great with people (kids too) and other dogs, even some cats as she was trained by me and a cat. Don’t worry, we’re not looking for a doggie Ken. She was spayed at five weeks by the shelter.

Look for personality. Get your adoption dog or cat (yes, adopt) to a vet. Talk to your family. Then adopt. I say spend $100 then the rest on hip surgery!

Please adopt from your local shelter. You’ll find your own Barbie and Fr. C, God rest his soul, would appreciate that you love and care for that pet forever. We’re Franciscans, after all. Here in solitude with my girl Zoe, Dee

 

 

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What She Brings

Posted on March 28, 2016 | 1 comment

is way more than we ever could have expected.  Of course Zoe is a herder. She is so kind with adults, kids, other dogs and in her lifetime has always liked cats as well. Sorry, two mice digging out from winter snow out west.

She’s getting old but is healthy. I’m calling her vet to ask if she needs more that the kennel cough vaccine as to a postcard reminder.  Another senior blood panel may not be warranted as yet.

I’ll check my Dallas vet. She’s my husband’s cousin, who excised Zoe’s hips as a pup. Yes, our Zoe had the worst hip dysplasia in a 24 lb. pup she’d ever seen on an x-ray. She grew her own hips and at age 12 is 32 lbs. They never made hips for dogs under 6o lbs. back then so we had to give our girl a chance. I don’t know what she could do today but back then when she recovered she could corner around a tree, get a ball, bring it back to me and the Retriever or Lab would be looking around clueless. Who got the ball?

Hips from one’s own cartilage. It took a while to heal. When she stole a pound of prime steak off our counter I thanked my husband for putting it away because he doesn’t go into my kitchen except to get ice or Dr. Pepper and he said “I didn’t do it” then we looked at Zoe and she was licking her paws. We laughed.

Zoe brings joy to our days, life to our years. Everyone in the neighborhood knows her name (not usually mine) and they introduce their kids and dogs to her, knowing that she is cute and friendly.

In olden days she, at age 84 in “people years” may be called the Grand Dame, the highest status, but she is a dog. I prefer to call her my, our, Zoe and leave it at that. She herds us in the house and makes friends with everyone out on a walk. She brings love to our home and life and is family. Please adopt and spay/neuter. Cheers from D and Z

ps Thanks to Nathan, Chani and Mick Dundee (Mickey) as well. They were also my rescues over the past years I worked in shelters and spay/neuter clinics.

pps Someone asked me while I was volunteering at a community services event for a shelter showing a pup years ago why I was so mean that I couldn’t adopt this cute puppy. I told her if adopt all of the unwanted and strays that would be an untenable situation. I’ve had four wonderful pets over 30 years.

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Posted in animals, Editorial, editorial pets, Family, loving life, Zoe

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The Best Sound

Posted on March 6, 2016 | Leave a comment

in the world for me is my husband snoring. If he’s not snoring away, he may be dead. I wouldn’t want that.

The best sound for a dog is that of a stainless steel bowl being placed on the counter and kibble being measured in, plus Zoe’s frozen medallions and the “special sauce” which is a tablespoon of boxed chicken broth.

Zoe stays by me 24/7 but rarely touches me or wants a pat on the head. She loves my baths, rather than hubby’s, because I do more of a spa massage and he does the “manly man” gotta get everything you’ve picked up in the past two weeks.

Now I’ve two. Our guest dog spends a few hours of the day alone, on my pillow or on Zoe’s bed, on the rug at the foot of our bed. At night she sleeps on my husband’s pillow and keeps her face an inch from me. Sometimes she holds my arm or hand. Zoe’s at the far corner of a king bed so she can see squirrels. A lotta luck there, babe, hermetically sealed in here and you’ll never leave my side.

No matter where they are, they hear their bowls at dinner time. Water first, then their individual food in their other stainless bowls. Do they come running? You bet. I’ve made our guest into a chow hound, must be the special sauce. Also Zoe eats in a minute and it takes guest L at least eight minutes so Zoe goes behind closed doors, then I open up and they play, sleep and then go out for a walk.

As an adult human I wish my day were that easy! Cheers, and here’s to coming back to life as a lucky cat or dog with a loving, caring family and not a cabbage or a steer. Dee

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