Tag Archives: dog

Boyfriends

No, I don’t have one. Happily married for over 12 years. Way back in college I used to go out for a white sangria with a dear friend, a lawyer best friend of an ex-boyfriend, about once a week for an hour, then my boyfriend at the time would pick me up and we’d go out somewhere else. Once I believe they may have passed each other in the dorm hall.

Well, the cougar got in the middle of it this morning. Yes, my aging dog Zoe. We ended up in the elevator lobby with her two young flirtations, M & M. One a huge Akita and the other a Boxer mix. It was quite funny but we got out of there quickly, each to a different location, because the big one doesn’t like other males and the young buck likes people more than other dogs and they both like their Aunt Dee. Young M’s “big brother” J, RIP, used to go into our bathroom and shut the door to get a few moments of peace from playing with my dog’s precious (to her) toy.

Yesterday, her new collar finally arrived. Hand-made from Asian silk. Emerald green with cherry blossoms, just in time for St. Patricks’ Day. An Irish friend and I have agreed to change Zoe’s name to Colleen (“lass”) for the one day. I’ll need to find something green to wear as well. I’ll have to try to look at least as good as my dog. It’s a tough act to follow, nudge nudge wink wink as I’m at the back end of the leash….. Cheers! Dee

 

Cooking for…..

kittens? Yes. In 1987 my sister sent a five-week old kitten from CA to NYC on a plane with my brother as a surprise. Surprise, dog gal, you now have a kitten that fell off the 7′ shelf he was born on at two weeks of age and his mother would not feed.

Gorgeous Burmese/Tuxedo talker. I never got the last word until I held him in my arms 13 years later as he was euthanized with heart dysfunction exacerbated by pneumonia.

I knew absolutely nothing about cats. He didn’t even know how to drink water because he couldn’t see it. I left him milk when I went to work, had no A/C so it curdled during the day because it was so hot.

The first day I got a book on cats that told me to only feed him raw kidneys and to keep them in the freezer for four days to eliminate bacteria. OK. Then I got a book I still use (or did, when I lend it out it tends to disappear) that said build a mouse from the ground up.

I bought a chicken, ate the breasts over a couple of days and took off all the other meat for my Nathan. Hebrew for “gift.” My current dog is Zoe, Greek for “life.” Yes, that’s how I name my family, you’re glad right now I don’t have kids.

I mixed it with all kinds of stuff, cottage cheese, lecithin powder, kelp, bone meal. He barely ate it. I finally learned about organics. When he died at age 13 he was on Innova canned. I do much better with what is out there today.

For birthday and Christmas I got him and his little brother, Mickey, each a can of Fancy Feast trash food as a gift. Mick was named Mick Dundee, after Crocodile Dundee, because he was fearless when I adopted him at nine weeks. He took my dog’s bed for a year and then taught himself to fetch crumpled up post-it notes and retrieve them to me. His name morphed to Mickey Mouse and then just Mickey. He liked the twice a year Fancy Feast treats as well. Dogs ran away from home just to play with him.

My dog just turned eleven. She is on frozen raw and dry food. The dry is to prepare her tummy for long road trips. We’ll be moving soon and I can’t get dry ice here to keep her frozen food cold so I’m mixing the two now.

In my life I have “owned” two cats and two dogs. I love all of them but can no longer have cats because my husband is deathly allergic to them. I yearn to live on a farm so all the unowned cats will visit and I can see them outdoors, capture and have them spayed/neutered and if they forgive me for that, feed them. I continue to bathe Zoe every two weeks so her dander doesn’t make my husband sneeze. She loves the bath, not the comb-out 24 hours later.

After my first Nathan surprise, all our animals are from shelters. Please adopt from shelters. I worked with Greyhound Pets of America (GPA) for years and saw pitiful dogs coming off the racetrack of last resort, Caliente, and turning around in two weeks with good food, health care and human care. You may get a diamond in the rough, but it’s your diamond to polish.

I follow the no grain formula, frozen raw and my dog has the softest coat in the neighborhood. Yes, it’s expensive but at 11 our Zoe is happy and healthy. I bet she’d love that chicken mix I made for Nathan back in the day! Dee

“Thanks, Dee,

you’re the best.” That’s what I like to hear.

Dog Zoe and I have guests coming Wednesday. Oh, no, I have to clean! Every day, again, dog fur. Luckily they’re used to dogs. I have to clean out the pantry and have good stuff for one last trifle, which they love. We’ll pair it with heavy appetizers and a bit of vino.

Tonight I had an experiment. Cornbread bread pudding with smoked sausage. It could have used a spicier sausage, and more pudding and Gruyere cheese, plus an undercurrent of shallots and garlic. It was a last minute thing, placing this mixture in a bit of bacon fat in the oven in a cast iron skillet. It could have really used some hash brown potatoes, then it would be a perfect tasty and not really pretty brunch dish, or dinner for a busy couple.

But it’s not often I’m told “Thanks, Dee, you’re the best.” And it was from my recipe taster. My husband didn’t even say that on our 12th anniversary yesterday. He didn’t remember the date even though he had me inscribe it into his wedding ring. Here’s to new recipe creations, Dee

Dogs in Heaven

My path took me to a Franciscan college before I knew it. I believed in St. Francis of Assisi as a child growing up in the HRC church. Of course there is a place for our loved ones where we’re destined to go.

Pope Francis told a young boy whose dog had died that there was that place. My first cat Nathan (gift from God) never let me get the last word in even as he took his last breath in my arms. He said “I can’t believe they let dogs in.”

Not too soon, but I look forward to seeing my dear friends when I go. Oh, both Nathan and Mick loved dogs. Chani, my first rescue dog, loved cats and raised Mickey; as does our Zoe (Greek for life). Cheers! Dee

Rabbits, Hats and Air Force One

I would have loved to be by the red carpet when our President, visiting a union rally, shook the hand of the Governor, noted union buster. Air Force One was right out on the tarmac while my husband and I were eating a burger outside of security. Yes, we were allowed real silverware. I asked if I could leave his bag for a minute to go twenty feet to the window to see the plane and the waiter said “there’s so much security here no-one will take it.”

This was a quick visit after many weeks and we got some business-type things taken care of, he slept a lot, we kept him on his time zone while I worked both with the dog, and we bought him some clothing to get by.

The two shirts didn’t work and he just asked me to go back to the store and get our money back later this week. I am noted to be sneaky, legally, as in finding ways around traffic. I called the store to tell them of their error, and they said the shirts could be returned. We’re talking $80 dress shirts. I then called the store by the airport and ordered two shirts sight unseen and asked them to put them up at the counter so no-one could purchase them.

We arrived, one shirt was un-pinned and ironed and my husband put it on, I drove him to the airport and he’s off again. He arrived safely.

Do you think I ruined all my rabbit and hat trick? We’re facing deadlines in life and work, the same deadline and we’ve thirteen days and the clock is ticking.

At the store, I saw a gorgeous paisley tie on the associate who was working there, a gift from his daughter, not from the store. I’m picking out bespoke shirts from Hong Kong and India/London and found two paisley ties. My shirt choices are from pink and purple, a new look for suits and being approachable as a tall guy.

My gut always tells me what to do. Right now we have to order shirts that will go with suits and ties because I know that’s the next step. Now it’s business casual and he always dresses 1-2 tiers up. This has been and is a rocky road but we always get through it. Hope your kids are happy being back at school and that you even got a vacation this year! We did not.

Here’s one half of the snack/lunch I brought the staff from the herb garden I envisioned and keep up and the photo didn’t come up. I made boursin with cream cheese, butter, all of our herbs and a clove of garlic. It was served on two vibrantly striped melamine trays with cauliflower, carrots, tomatoes, broccoli, snap peas and yellow peppers. A ramekin with our herb mix was in the center.

Life and work. Sometimes I really hate that my husband’s work determines our life and that I gave up my work to travel with him. Now we need to make decisions that will affect the rest of our lives, forever.

The cabin on a lake beckons. As long as there’s a Whole Foods nearby! I know what to do and need to make it happen. Don’t worry, Hipless Wonder Dog, you’re a part of it, too. Cheers! Dee

DSCF0070

Leaps of Faith

My husband came back to me after five weeks away at a new job across the country. Things have been a bit rocky over the phone so I asked if he was coming to seek a divorce.

That’s not in the plan. He’s been resting and the dog was mad at him but likes him again. Of course I do as well. As he’s across the country for a weekend and we’re trying to make it his time (I’m hungry) we’ve a plan to stay mainly on this time until things change.

I’m up at 4:00 and it’s 2:00 his time. He and the dog are sleeping soundly. I came out of our bedroom quietly and saw the last half of Lasse Hallstrom’s film Salmon Fishing in the Yemen for probably the third time and saw even more in it.

If you see it, you will see many leaps of faith. I’ve only a few films I’d own and this is one. This is how I met my husband right after 9/11. It then comes down to jobs and how we even adopted our dog who is with us over ten years later. Leaps of faith. I go with my heart, head and gut and know what to do.

There are no car chases or tanks or bombs in this film but if you see it as it is, there is faith in many areas and in order to earn self-acceptance one must take a chance. Cheers and happy Labor Day! Dee

 

Trust

My dog is belly-up on the couch, a place she was never allowed to be. She got me up at six to vomit in the elevator and then have diarrhea twice outside then again an hour later. Talk about sleeping in on a weekend.

I haven’t fed her this morning. She’s belly up and that signals trust. A dog I visited weekly for a year in a no-kill shelter over 20 years ago was abused by a law enforcement professional. When they talked about putting her down for her fear of men and children (yes, the kids over the fence used to throw rocks at her) I took her home immediately.

It took her about two weeks to show her tummy. I had individual training, a couple of sessions and practiced walking and socializing a lot. I guess the deputy who owned her used to kick her so she was prone (ha, pun) to suspicion. Within a month I could run towards her and jump over her and she just thought of me as that crazy lady who loves her.

Over the years she even dealt with postal carriers, Navy personnel in uniform, any man in a hat and children of all ages who yelled out her name when we entered the park and came and petted her.

They all got a tree for the park when she died. A few years after she was gone my husband and I adopted a new shelter dog at six weeks of age. She went belly-up (trust) the first day and is so right now sleeping like a baby at age 10. Of course our next dog will be a rescue and I hope to live on a farm someday so wild cats come to visit as well. My husband is deathly allergic to cats but outdoors is OK.

My father-in-law, a rancher, was gored a couple of weeks ago by a horned cow at the sale barn. Tale be told, he already had one leg over the fence to get out but she had a mean streak and got him in the gut. Just shows why animals usually keep their guts below and away from danger. I am blessed to have had two dogs and two cats over the past 30 years who felt comfortable always having their belly up, and rubbed, around me. Trust. Dee

Deja Vu

all over again, ha ha. For years I’ve taken care of pets for free, a sort of barter system for the past ten years. The first time I did this I probably did 1,000 dog visits and got one in return. Some barter system as everyone was busy or away for the weekend. I should have made it a business.

Second time went OK because we were friends and exchanged dinners and/or got gift bags and became hooked on Pro Bars and especially SmartWool socks. I miss those gals and their pup.

Now we’re entering phase one again. My husband is away on business, herding dog of 10+ years is at my side and I thought I was going to die. I contacted my doctor. Thirty hours later his practice finally called and said he no longer takes a major insurance provider and that they can get me in ten days from now with someone else.

I said I’d heal myself (I am doing so), go to the emergency room, or die at home alone and leave a note blaming them. And no, they don’t get the dog. This woman, instead of saying “have a nice day” actually said “have a nice nap.” Yes, it was nice to finally get an hour’s sleep. Please forgive me for reporting these medical professionals through the appropriate channels.

The thing is that both my husband and I, and even our dog, see the good in people (and dogs) and trust them until they cannot be trusted. If that is a weakness, let me die having that weakness. The moment I become a bigot or a hater is the moment I cease to live anyways.

Last night with my legs swelled up twice their size I asked God to let me live because I’ve still more of His work to do here. I do not believe in organized religion but believe in God and know he sends me places for reasons. Sometimes I figure them out, sometimes not. Hey, I’m alive and now have to go because the dog just vomited all of today’s food under the dining room table. She even trusts old dead stuff she scarfs up in the park! I just know that when I’m sick no-one comforts me or takes Zoe out. I just get the strength to make it work and go on with life. Dee

 

Happy Birthday Zoe!

I know the day you were adopted but not the moment because you popped out of the cardboard box they gave us. I was in the passenger seat with you, at nearly six weeks old, on my lap.

While J drove I grabbed you and threw the useless cardboard box in the back seat, hoping you wouldn’t do anything nasty sitting on my lap. You were so calm and sweet and have always been a “car dog.”

To this day you have your 4″ orthopedic mattress in the back and you only wake up on off-ramps or at stop signs/lights.

We named you Zoe, Greek for life. I’ve worked with animals for over 20 years and this is the happiest dog I’ve ever met. No, they won’t let her work as a therapy dog because she eats raw food. At age ten, I’m not going to change her diet.

People here don’t know my name but everyone knows hers. Zoe. We had to have her hips taken out as a pup due to severe hip dysplasia. She grew her own, as she was too small for titanium hips. For years she could corner around a tree and lose a Retriever chasing a ball.

Next week she goes in for her first elderly blood panel, shots and health check. She doesn’t get much chance to run here. All the dog parks are far away and the fines for off-leash activity are high. I always think of her in the outfield, waiting for the Chuck-it to hit and beat all the pups and dumb dogs. She would bring the tennis ball back and drop it at my feet. Then go back to the outfield.

Life without her would be really tough. At least this time I may have my husband at my side. I’ve been through four of these and each takes a part of your soul.

But today is a happy day and Zoe and my husband are sleeping soundly on our bed as I write. Zoe’s on my pillow. She won’t let me out of her sight. I’m the food wench!

Note: 1/30 was my mother’s birthday. She’s been gone over five years now. I made Zoe’s birthday 1/31 for reasons.

 

Taxpayers

As we spend more and more to bail out CitiGroup and probably now the Big Three auto manufacturers, I have a home-related issue to rant about.

Since we’re talking billions every day, I never thought that “b” word would ever come out of my mouth and as I see our investments tanking, it never will except in terms of our government using our money and our children’s and grandchildren’s money to bail out banks and insurance companies who all got red Ferraris as a bonus a couple of years ago.  Yes, please keep these people in their $20 million homes with their cars and country clubs.

I’m talking about dog owners.  There are 72 million pet dogs in the USA (AVMA, 2007) and we pay taxes.  Every year parks are allocated, ball fields and playgrounds are built, but there is no awareness of the needs of responsible dog owners to legally let their dogs off leash.  Socialization and exercise are necessary for owners and their dogs.  But while athletes and toddlers are paid for, dog owners are told to buy their own land and build and maintain their own parks.

Why is this?  We pay for the ball parks and tot lots and mowing the grass.  Many of us don’t have kids and would like to share our local parks legally, in whatever way works for each community and each park.  We’re talking about responsible dog owners with well-behaved dogs, rules etc.

Bed Dog

Bed Dog

Many cities do not have space for new parks.  In San Diego, four Council Districts were targeted.  Of the other four, one was taken care of and the others were in areas in the City not conducive to off-leash activity.  Only Districts 2 and 5 tried, after six years!  My dog died awaiting legality of her park.

District 1 was a disaster, thanks Scott Peters, for whom I campaigned and who lied to us about being open on this issue.  I can say this because I haven’t lived there for five years.  On May 2, 2001 instead of bringing a ball, for the first and only time my dog brought a huge teddy bear to the park, ironically purchased at a yard sale from leash-free opponents.

She wagged her tail and said hello to everyone.  The next day she was gone.  I spent all my evenings and weekends at community meetings, to get my dog a leash-free area and she died awaiting it.  Over forty friends and neighbors donated a tree to the City in her honor.  We had a brief ceremony and everyone poured a cup of water on the tree.  Last I saw it, it was doing well.

Chani’s ashes are in the teddy bear she took to the park that fateful day.  They are in a plastic bag behind a felt heart with lace borders and about fifty microscopic red and white beads our dear friend Joan sewed on.  She also asked me for photos and made a montage that is displayed in our home today, with the bear.

A few years ago when we moved, friend helping out asked if our new dog (who is not new as she’ll be five in January) Zoe could have a stuffed animal.  I said OK, most of them are Chani’s old ones and she’s been eating through them one by one.  Then I remembered and asked what it looked like.  NOT THAT ONE!!!!!

Responsible dog owners who have legal leash-free areas make parks safe and clean.  They spawn user groups that utilize informal peer enforcement to encourage other dog owners to be responsible.  Here with Zoe and at our former park with Chani, toddlers and their parents ask if they can pet my dog.  My rule is that child asks, asks parent, asks dog owner, OK to pet.

We just want to be treated like other citizens and park users, especially as we pay for our parks but are only allowed partial use of them.  Ten million would do wonders nationwide, in the right hands.  But we’re not asking for money, only sanity.  Billions more to bail out people who ran off with our money in the first place and are about to do so again is foolish.  For the Big Three to not have their act together at a Congressional hearing, while holding out their hands for money, is a disgrace.

I’m just trying to put things into perspective.  Dee