I just took the dogs out. It's a clear, clear night, unusual for us in January. Moon is about 2/3 of the way to full.
I noticed the moonlight is bright enough that the power line to the house is throwing a shadow tonight. Moonlight is reflected sunlight. If the moonlight is that powerful, what kind of metaphor could that be for me? Even if I'm still fearful of letting my own light shine, maybe I can let a little reflected light from the rest of the universe shine through or past or off of me.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Watching Animal Control Court
I went to Animal Control Court today to see how it is run, since there is a good chance I’ll be going there next month to testify about the neighbor’s dog Sadie attacking mine. Sadie is owned by Blonde Streaks. Blonde Streaks had to go to ACC today because of a complaint made by Mr. Volatile, another neighbor. This session promised some interesting emotional outburst possibilities because after Sadie attacked Mr. Volatile’s dogs, Mr. Volatile followed Sadie home and kicked a hole in Blonde Streaks’s front door. That part is a whole ‘nother trial, not in Animal Control Court.
The hearings officer is a lawyer with a strong interest in animal law (and who happens to own several Belgian Tervuren – perhaps my case would be even stronger had Sleek been the one Sadie nailed, esp. because Hearings Officer is Sleek's co-owner's personal attorney). Dress among most of the defendants and complainants was distinctly casual. Hearing Officer wore professional clothing, and the Animal Control officers wore their uniforms.
Blonde Streaks slumped into her chair and made a number of comments that led Hearings Officer to tell her to wait until it was her turn. AC read the appropriate parts of the statutes into the record. Hearings Officer asked for clarification on the definition of “vicious behavior,” which was given from other statutes. Mr. Volatile told his story and mostly stayed to the facts, rather than the emotions. Blonde Streaks had her time for rebuttal and had to be drawn back to the issues at hand (e.g., the door kicking is not relevant to the AC case). Blonde Streaks admitted Sadie had gotten loose and accepted responsibility for that. She said they have gotten rid of their second dog (neighborhood rumor says this dog was Sadie’s puppy) which she said belonged to her son (aka “Wheelchair Man” to the neighborhood). AC mentioned that in terms of legal responsibility, because Blonde Streaks is head of household, she was the owner of the second dog. Blonde Streaks thought about protesting that part. Blonde Streaks mentioned how Sadie could not be vicious because she lives with and has not harmed 18-month-old twins, and children aged 9, 8, and 4 years. Blonde Streaks also mentioned that if Sadie was going to be considered having shown vicious behavior by fighting with Mr. Volatile’s dogs, then shouldn’t Mr. Volatile’s dogs behavior be considered vicious because Sadie could’ve been hurt by them. Hearings Officer was unimpressed and soon cut the discussion off. Blonde Streaks’s appeals were all rejected and her fines were held at the initial levels (total of $200). Blonde Streaks replied that she had no money to pay, and Hearings Officer told her to work that out with Animal Control.
Blonde Streaks stomped out, and Mr. Volatile, his wife Bleached Blonde, and I left a few moments later, accompanied by an AC officer to ensure there was no altercation between Mr. Volatile & Blonde Streaks in the building. Fortunately, Blonde Streaks was gone by the time we reached the elevator.
We all are hopeful that at the next hearing, when my case comes up, that Sadie will be declared a Dangerous Dog and Blonde Streaks will be told to remove her from the city. The timeframe for that is 96 hours.
Keep your fingers crossed! Meanwhile, Fluff continues to grow her hair back and is doing okay around other dogs. (You will notice she was not invited to attend the big dog show this past weekend!)
The hearings officer is a lawyer with a strong interest in animal law (and who happens to own several Belgian Tervuren – perhaps my case would be even stronger had Sleek been the one Sadie nailed, esp. because Hearings Officer is Sleek's co-owner's personal attorney). Dress among most of the defendants and complainants was distinctly casual. Hearing Officer wore professional clothing, and the Animal Control officers wore their uniforms.
Blonde Streaks slumped into her chair and made a number of comments that led Hearings Officer to tell her to wait until it was her turn. AC read the appropriate parts of the statutes into the record. Hearings Officer asked for clarification on the definition of “vicious behavior,” which was given from other statutes. Mr. Volatile told his story and mostly stayed to the facts, rather than the emotions. Blonde Streaks had her time for rebuttal and had to be drawn back to the issues at hand (e.g., the door kicking is not relevant to the AC case). Blonde Streaks admitted Sadie had gotten loose and accepted responsibility for that. She said they have gotten rid of their second dog (neighborhood rumor says this dog was Sadie’s puppy) which she said belonged to her son (aka “Wheelchair Man” to the neighborhood). AC mentioned that in terms of legal responsibility, because Blonde Streaks is head of household, she was the owner of the second dog. Blonde Streaks thought about protesting that part. Blonde Streaks mentioned how Sadie could not be vicious because she lives with and has not harmed 18-month-old twins, and children aged 9, 8, and 4 years. Blonde Streaks also mentioned that if Sadie was going to be considered having shown vicious behavior by fighting with Mr. Volatile’s dogs, then shouldn’t Mr. Volatile’s dogs behavior be considered vicious because Sadie could’ve been hurt by them. Hearings Officer was unimpressed and soon cut the discussion off. Blonde Streaks’s appeals were all rejected and her fines were held at the initial levels (total of $200). Blonde Streaks replied that she had no money to pay, and Hearings Officer told her to work that out with Animal Control.
Blonde Streaks stomped out, and Mr. Volatile, his wife Bleached Blonde, and I left a few moments later, accompanied by an AC officer to ensure there was no altercation between Mr. Volatile & Blonde Streaks in the building. Fortunately, Blonde Streaks was gone by the time we reached the elevator.
We all are hopeful that at the next hearing, when my case comes up, that Sadie will be declared a Dangerous Dog and Blonde Streaks will be told to remove her from the city. The timeframe for that is 96 hours.
Keep your fingers crossed! Meanwhile, Fluff continues to grow her hair back and is doing okay around other dogs. (You will notice she was not invited to attend the big dog show this past weekend!)
Monday, January 22, 2007
Choice
In honor of Blog for Choice day, here's today's off-the-cuff writing.
I believe in choice for a number of reasons:
A woman's body belongs to her. As such, she has the right to determine whether or not she wishes to become a mother and when.
If a woman doesn't want to have a child, why would one think she would be a good mother to that child? Eighteen years is a long time to live with someone who would rather you had not been born.
Birth control education and availability is a disgrace, especially for those who are young or of limited means.
Abstinence works for some people, doesn't work for others.
Abstinence is not an option for those who are raped, forced by partners, etc.
I believe in choice for a number of reasons:
A woman's body belongs to her. As such, she has the right to determine whether or not she wishes to become a mother and when.
If a woman doesn't want to have a child, why would one think she would be a good mother to that child? Eighteen years is a long time to live with someone who would rather you had not been born.
Birth control education and availability is a disgrace, especially for those who are young or of limited means.
Abstinence works for some people, doesn't work for others.
Abstinence is not an option for those who are raped, forced by partners, etc.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Faintly Stunned
I've received two emails today from people who've just lost their dogs to hemangiosarcoma. Both dogs were in late middle age and much loved companions valued for their beautiful souls. It's time to go hug my dogs and be grateful that I am watching them go into old age.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Friday will be Interesting
In the morning, it's a trip to Animal Control to make a formal report on the dog that chomped Fluff. After talking to a few neighbors, we need this dog controlled or removed from the neighborhood. Although it will be my word against theirs, the number of complaints and visits from AC is likely to go against them. I'm also willing to parade Fluff's background if that helps make the point. She's been responsibly handled since I got her. She has earned titles in 3 sports (obedience, agility, and canine musical freestyle). She's 11 freakin' years old, for heavens' sake -- she is not out there looking for trouble!
In the afternoon I finally will meet Sleek's breeder. The breeder and Sleek have not seen one another in at least 8 years (since I've had Sleek). I'm curious to see if Sleek remembers her. Some say they never forget their first human "mom," and she certainly remembers her previous owners from before me. Whenever the 3 of us are in the same room/area, Sleek is not happy until we're all in conversation prximity. Then she smiles with satisfaction at having so many people she has loved close together. Since Sleek has developed a heart murmur, I want to ask her breeder about Sleek's mom's medical history. More information would be good!
In the afternoon I finally will meet Sleek's breeder. The breeder and Sleek have not seen one another in at least 8 years (since I've had Sleek). I'm curious to see if Sleek remembers her. Some say they never forget their first human "mom," and she certainly remembers her previous owners from before me. Whenever the 3 of us are in the same room/area, Sleek is not happy until we're all in conversation prximity. Then she smiles with satisfaction at having so many people she has loved close together. Since Sleek has developed a heart murmur, I want to ask her breeder about Sleek's mom's medical history. More information would be good!
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Monday, January 15, 2007
Sense of Betrayal
I've been feeling like death warmed over for the past couple of weeks. I did pretty well, moodwise, through Christmas, and then I started to slide. Even the past week of cold, mostly clear weather (both temperature and lack of precipitation are unusual for us this time of year), which I love, hasn't been enough to bring me to functional. I had blood drawn for a thyroid test last week and received the results today.
My thyroid, which has been slowly meandering downhill in function, has pretty much tanked. T3 was at the lowest point of "normal," and T4 was so low it was out of range.
I feel betrayed by my body. I know it's an irrational reaction, but it's there. I should be happy. But no, I'm pissed off because my body says enough is enough, you are gonna have to give me a pill pretty much every day for the rest of our life. Meanwhile, low/non-existent thyroid (even with non-prescription supplements, btw) is possibly a major contributor to my depression, effortless but unnecessary weight gain, lack of energy, scattered thoughts, easily broken and prone to falling out hair.
In some ways, with a low thyroid diagnosis, all those things are no longer my fault, no longer my character failings. Everything up there, except maybe the hair, I have taken as signs of my weakness, my not-worthiness. I'm having trouble grasping this emotionally. For anyone else, I could say, "Yes, of course. You're low-thyroid, so of course those things would happen to you. How exciting that you've found a cause and can do something that will help you feel better." With myself, I get pissed off that my freakin' thryoid gland had the nerve to up and quit on me. On me! And then another voice insinuates itself into my head asking, "So, what did you do that made your thyroid quit? Must've abused it, huh? Didn't take care of yourself, did ya?" Meanwhile, yet another part of my brain is trying to figure out ahead of time how to act when the thyroid level rises. What will it be like to have energy? What will I do with it? What should I do with it? Is that what other people would do with it? How will I relate to other people? Will I want to? Where will I get the skills? What if I'm still depressed afterwards? That part of my brain is not keen on living in the moment, because it's hard to meet everyone's expectations if it doesn't plan ahead.
Welcome to my head, land of "you can't win." Well, I can't win in my head, and normally we don't let too many other people in. There's not much room what with all the observers of thoughts and observers of other observers running around.
Fortunately, I had a counseling session set up for this afternoon, so I was able to deal with some of the crud written above. Even if you can't tell, a lot of that was written after much of the emotion had been released. Now I worry about the emotion coming back and tackling me again. That's in addition to the whole "I've been unemployed for 9 months now. What do I plan to do short-term and long-term to develop an income?"
I guess we know whose blog had better remain anonymous to the IRL folks. I'm pretty much a "know me, know my dogs" woman, so the pictures are pretty much a dead-giveaway to the IRLs, anyway.
I would like to receive feedback on this post, if you'd be kind enough to leave it. Writing style or content or both, your choice. If you can't comment here for some reason, my email address in my complete profile. Thanks!
My thyroid, which has been slowly meandering downhill in function, has pretty much tanked. T3 was at the lowest point of "normal," and T4 was so low it was out of range.
I feel betrayed by my body. I know it's an irrational reaction, but it's there. I should be happy. But no, I'm pissed off because my body says enough is enough, you are gonna have to give me a pill pretty much every day for the rest of our life. Meanwhile, low/non-existent thyroid (even with non-prescription supplements, btw) is possibly a major contributor to my depression, effortless but unnecessary weight gain, lack of energy, scattered thoughts, easily broken and prone to falling out hair.
In some ways, with a low thyroid diagnosis, all those things are no longer my fault, no longer my character failings. Everything up there, except maybe the hair, I have taken as signs of my weakness, my not-worthiness. I'm having trouble grasping this emotionally. For anyone else, I could say, "Yes, of course. You're low-thyroid, so of course those things would happen to you. How exciting that you've found a cause and can do something that will help you feel better." With myself, I get pissed off that my freakin' thryoid gland had the nerve to up and quit on me. On me! And then another voice insinuates itself into my head asking, "So, what did you do that made your thyroid quit? Must've abused it, huh? Didn't take care of yourself, did ya?" Meanwhile, yet another part of my brain is trying to figure out ahead of time how to act when the thyroid level rises. What will it be like to have energy? What will I do with it? What should I do with it? Is that what other people would do with it? How will I relate to other people? Will I want to? Where will I get the skills? What if I'm still depressed afterwards? That part of my brain is not keen on living in the moment, because it's hard to meet everyone's expectations if it doesn't plan ahead.
Welcome to my head, land of "you can't win." Well, I can't win in my head, and normally we don't let too many other people in. There's not much room what with all the observers of thoughts and observers of other observers running around.
Fortunately, I had a counseling session set up for this afternoon, so I was able to deal with some of the crud written above. Even if you can't tell, a lot of that was written after much of the emotion had been released. Now I worry about the emotion coming back and tackling me again. That's in addition to the whole "I've been unemployed for 9 months now. What do I plan to do short-term and long-term to develop an income?"
I guess we know whose blog had better remain anonymous to the IRL folks. I'm pretty much a "know me, know my dogs" woman, so the pictures are pretty much a dead-giveaway to the IRLs, anyway.
I would like to receive feedback on this post, if you'd be kind enough to leave it. Writing style or content or both, your choice. If you can't comment here for some reason, my email address in my complete profile. Thanks!
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Sensitivity
I took the girls for a walk tonight, about 8pm. We headed up the street to avoid going by Sadie's house, then walked around the park. On the way back, I chose to go in a way that would have us go by Sadie's house.
When we were about one house away we heard some voices there and then some jingling that might have been dog tags. Fluff stopped, then came back to me and pressed up against my leg while I assessed the situation. We turned and walked a block out of our way rather than risk another altercation. Fluff looked much happier about that choice than she did when she heard the tags.
When we were about one house away we heard some voices there and then some jingling that might have been dog tags. Fluff stopped, then came back to me and pressed up against my leg while I assessed the situation. We turned and walked a block out of our way rather than risk another altercation. Fluff looked much happier about that choice than she did when she heard the tags.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Tone of Voice
As I said, Fluff had to go to the vet yesterday. Fluff is kind of a nervous, timid little dog in real life. She's not too bad, but she is not a very confident dog.
It's interesting to see how Fluff reacts to tone of voice. If the vet techs or the vet comes in cooing and telling her in soft, sad voices meant to reassure that she's okay, this won't hurt a bit, etc., she becomes much more nervous and uncomfortable. She can tell a lie as well as anyone else.
If, on the other hand, the vet or tech comes in and speaks to her matter-of-factly, "Hi Fluff, this is what we need to do with you today. It may be a little uncomfortable, but I'll try to get this over with as quickly as possible," then she's much better. She is more cooperative and less squirmy than she is with the babytalk folks.
I've started telling the vet's staff this as soon as we go in and as each new person comes in the exam room. It's helped a lot. I still remember one time years ago when a couple of vet techs wanted to take a blood sample and started creeping up on Fluff and cornering her. She threatened to bite until I asked the techs to back off and let her cool down. Once they went to her in a calm, controlled way, she was fine. I think that was one of the last times she felt threatened enough to try to defend herself. These days she will try to dodge the people but her mouth is firmly shut. She never threatens, even on the day she had to have 3 grass seeds removed from one ear. That meant about 6 trips down the ear canal with either the light or the forceps or both. Her ear really isn't big enough for that to be comfortable for her.
It's interesting to see how Fluff reacts to tone of voice. If the vet techs or the vet comes in cooing and telling her in soft, sad voices meant to reassure that she's okay, this won't hurt a bit, etc., she becomes much more nervous and uncomfortable. She can tell a lie as well as anyone else.
If, on the other hand, the vet or tech comes in and speaks to her matter-of-factly, "Hi Fluff, this is what we need to do with you today. It may be a little uncomfortable, but I'll try to get this over with as quickly as possible," then she's much better. She is more cooperative and less squirmy than she is with the babytalk folks.
I've started telling the vet's staff this as soon as we go in and as each new person comes in the exam room. It's helped a lot. I still remember one time years ago when a couple of vet techs wanted to take a blood sample and started creeping up on Fluff and cornering her. She threatened to bite until I asked the techs to back off and let her cool down. Once they went to her in a calm, controlled way, she was fine. I think that was one of the last times she felt threatened enough to try to defend herself. These days she will try to dodge the people but her mouth is firmly shut. She never threatens, even on the day she had to have 3 grass seeds removed from one ear. That meant about 6 trips down the ear canal with either the light or the forceps or both. Her ear really isn't big enough for that to be comfortable for her.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Chomped!
Poor Fluff got chomped last night. We were walking down the street toward our local park so we could play in the snow (Fluff and I love snow, short-haired Sleek not so much, but she was up for a walk). Three doors down, the neighbors kids were out playing in the street. They dashed across the street in front of us as we passed their house, apparently bolting into the house for whatever reason. Unfortunately, they didn't shut the gates to the yard or the door to the house, and Sadie got out. Although we were past her yard, she charged us and Fluff rose to the challenge.
Sadie, for the first of the many times she's challenged us, came in for the bite. Fortunately for her, she backed off when I bellowed (note: if you are going to scream during a dog attack/fight, use a low-pitched, high-volume voice. This is definitely a time for the alpha bitch roar. A high-pitched shriek is more likely to be heard as wounded prey screaming). You don't want to be attacking my dog when I've got on boots and heavy clothes. I will kick another dog in the gut to try to get it off my dog, and I will kick to injure/incapacitate. I'm glad that wasn't necessary here. As it was, I had a sore throat afterward from the bellowing.
The kids came out to apologize, although no adults did. I let the kids know that if there were vet bills (and there are), the bill would be coming to them. That rather stunned the oldest kid (probably about 10), but one hoped it would make a point. Alas, I drove past the house this morning, and the gate the dog came through yesterday was open, leading me to wonder anew about this family.
The bite was on Fluff's face. There are multiple puncture wounds through her lip (some are completely through the lip, into her mouth), although it's not as bad as it could have been. She has very thick hair on her face, and nothing came very close to her eye. The bad news is that she's more convinced than ever that other dogs may be out to get her, so she starts warning them away from her in a belligerent manner that makes her look aggressive. It looks like it's time to start desensitizing her again. Sigh.
The question now is what to do about this. The dog (Sadie) does not appear to be human-aggressive, although a person certainly could be bitten trying to break up a dog fight. I feel bad because I think she's an American staffordshire terrier, and I hate to feed the hysteria that these dogs can arouse. She's big enough and strong enough that she could kill a good many types of dogs. I know I'm more cautious about walking that direction, knowing there is a decent chance she's out and unrestrained, than I would be with many other breeds of dogs. The fact that I've seen her loose so many times calls into question the responsibility level of the humans in the household.
I fear I'm signing the dog's death warrant if I report the attack to Animal Control, esp. given our local Humane Society (which shares space with AC) has a notorious bias against her breed. I also fear her owners would just get another dog who might be less willing to break off when someone bellows or who is more interested in getting something started in the first place. I believe if this is the first reported incident, then AC will lecture the owners. If, however, other people have experienced and reported incidents, then the likelihood of confiscation and destruction increases. Again, she's not a bad dog. She has irresponsible owners. I don't like that she will be the one to pay the price for those owners.
What to do, what to do.
Meantime, Fluff went to the vet today. No stitches necessary, but she'll be on antibiotics for 5 days. It turns out that the punctures going fully through the lip are a good thing because they'll drain better while healing. The vet is a little concerned about the possibility of an abscess because there are salivary ducts nearby and not much skin/flesh around to work with if an abscess develops. Fluff is generally healthy, though, so I think she'll pull through just fine. Her face is a little puffy, but she's eating and drinking normally (although I'm cooking her food instead of feeding her raw food this week), and has a normal temperature.
Update: I did call Animal Control, and apparently I'm one of many in the neighborhood who has called. Now we're getting into another dilemna. This is where draconian anti-dog legislation begins -- with the ineffective enforcement of existing laws. If they're not going to enforce existing laws, how are they going to have the money and people to enforce the new ones? The draconian legislation only hurts those who will abide by it, and they're the ones who generally were responsible and didn't need it in the first place.
Sadie, for the first of the many times she's challenged us, came in for the bite. Fortunately for her, she backed off when I bellowed (note: if you are going to scream during a dog attack/fight, use a low-pitched, high-volume voice. This is definitely a time for the alpha bitch roar. A high-pitched shriek is more likely to be heard as wounded prey screaming). You don't want to be attacking my dog when I've got on boots and heavy clothes. I will kick another dog in the gut to try to get it off my dog, and I will kick to injure/incapacitate. I'm glad that wasn't necessary here. As it was, I had a sore throat afterward from the bellowing.
The kids came out to apologize, although no adults did. I let the kids know that if there were vet bills (and there are), the bill would be coming to them. That rather stunned the oldest kid (probably about 10), but one hoped it would make a point. Alas, I drove past the house this morning, and the gate the dog came through yesterday was open, leading me to wonder anew about this family.
The bite was on Fluff's face. There are multiple puncture wounds through her lip (some are completely through the lip, into her mouth), although it's not as bad as it could have been. She has very thick hair on her face, and nothing came very close to her eye. The bad news is that she's more convinced than ever that other dogs may be out to get her, so she starts warning them away from her in a belligerent manner that makes her look aggressive. It looks like it's time to start desensitizing her again. Sigh.
The question now is what to do about this. The dog (Sadie) does not appear to be human-aggressive, although a person certainly could be bitten trying to break up a dog fight. I feel bad because I think she's an American staffordshire terrier, and I hate to feed the hysteria that these dogs can arouse. She's big enough and strong enough that she could kill a good many types of dogs. I know I'm more cautious about walking that direction, knowing there is a decent chance she's out and unrestrained, than I would be with many other breeds of dogs. The fact that I've seen her loose so many times calls into question the responsibility level of the humans in the household.
I fear I'm signing the dog's death warrant if I report the attack to Animal Control, esp. given our local Humane Society (which shares space with AC) has a notorious bias against her breed. I also fear her owners would just get another dog who might be less willing to break off when someone bellows or who is more interested in getting something started in the first place. I believe if this is the first reported incident, then AC will lecture the owners. If, however, other people have experienced and reported incidents, then the likelihood of confiscation and destruction increases. Again, she's not a bad dog. She has irresponsible owners. I don't like that she will be the one to pay the price for those owners.
What to do, what to do.
Meantime, Fluff went to the vet today. No stitches necessary, but she'll be on antibiotics for 5 days. It turns out that the punctures going fully through the lip are a good thing because they'll drain better while healing. The vet is a little concerned about the possibility of an abscess because there are salivary ducts nearby and not much skin/flesh around to work with if an abscess develops. Fluff is generally healthy, though, so I think she'll pull through just fine. Her face is a little puffy, but she's eating and drinking normally (although I'm cooking her food instead of feeding her raw food this week), and has a normal temperature.
Update: I did call Animal Control, and apparently I'm one of many in the neighborhood who has called. Now we're getting into another dilemna. This is where draconian anti-dog legislation begins -- with the ineffective enforcement of existing laws. If they're not going to enforce existing laws, how are they going to have the money and people to enforce the new ones? The draconian legislation only hurts those who will abide by it, and they're the ones who generally were responsible and didn't need it in the first place.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Associations
I took the girls up to the agility trial at the fairgrounds today. It's been several years since either of them competed in agility, but we went to a fair number (ha!) of trials there in the days. We weren't competing, but I took each dog out to walk around the site individually.
Sleek went first. She was bred and born to dog shows, probably going to her first ones when she was 3 or 4 months old so she'd be comfortable there when it was time for her to show. She loves walking around looking at the other dogs and trying to solicit petting and/or food from people. Even though it's been years, Sleek still was very happy to be out and about and watching everything. The building is unheated, so we mostly had to keep moving, although we did sit long enough to watch our friend Camera Woman run her dog. Then I took Sleek back to the car and took Fluff into the building.
Fluff definitely remembers the place and remembers agility. She was quite aroused going in, pulling hard on her collar and with her tail somewhat raised and stiff. She was good enough around the other dogs. We talked to CW briefly before she got ready to run her next dog and again after they ran. It was funny to watch how Fluff fell back into behaviors she had done when at trials in the past. Although I'm sure she could smell that I didn't have treats with me, she reacted to any movement of my hand toward a pocket with behaviors we used to practice, like sitting, lying down, giving strong eye contact. Her response to cues was very good, too. This behavior on her part was sustained for probably 10 minutes or more, which is a long time to have premium behavior without a reward beyond, "What a good girl you are!"
They both are very good girls.
Sleek went first. She was bred and born to dog shows, probably going to her first ones when she was 3 or 4 months old so she'd be comfortable there when it was time for her to show. She loves walking around looking at the other dogs and trying to solicit petting and/or food from people. Even though it's been years, Sleek still was very happy to be out and about and watching everything. The building is unheated, so we mostly had to keep moving, although we did sit long enough to watch our friend Camera Woman run her dog. Then I took Sleek back to the car and took Fluff into the building.
Fluff definitely remembers the place and remembers agility. She was quite aroused going in, pulling hard on her collar and with her tail somewhat raised and stiff. She was good enough around the other dogs. We talked to CW briefly before she got ready to run her next dog and again after they ran. It was funny to watch how Fluff fell back into behaviors she had done when at trials in the past. Although I'm sure she could smell that I didn't have treats with me, she reacted to any movement of my hand toward a pocket with behaviors we used to practice, like sitting, lying down, giving strong eye contact. Her response to cues was very good, too. This behavior on her part was sustained for probably 10 minutes or more, which is a long time to have premium behavior without a reward beyond, "What a good girl you are!"
They both are very good girls.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Doug Firs
I took the girls for a walk today at the state university extension. They have a really nice area where the dogs can be off-lead semi-legally. There is a wide path that leads from the upper open field to an area that is being restored to a more natural mix of plants. The path between the two areas goes down a hill with many large Douglas fir trees on it.
Last month we had a bunch of windstorms on top of a very wet November. This combination led to several of the Doug firs deciding to lie down. They just uprooted themselves, big trees about 1.5 to 2 feet in diameter and 60 feet or more tall. Often two side-by-side trees went down, probably because the first took second with it. First, it's startling enough to see half a dozen very large trees down in a short walk. Second, the size of the root balls is shockingly small for such big trees. These big trees had rootballs that were maybe 10 feet in diameter and 6-8 feet deep. That's it!
I think perhaps the Doug firs are pack trees. They like to grow together, and they support one another. Does the one in my backyard get enough support, I wonder. My neighbors have several dougs, so I hope that is enough to keep mine happy. Certainly it's grown quite a bit in the time I've lived here.
Last month we had a bunch of windstorms on top of a very wet November. This combination led to several of the Doug firs deciding to lie down. They just uprooted themselves, big trees about 1.5 to 2 feet in diameter and 60 feet or more tall. Often two side-by-side trees went down, probably because the first took second with it. First, it's startling enough to see half a dozen very large trees down in a short walk. Second, the size of the root balls is shockingly small for such big trees. These big trees had rootballs that were maybe 10 feet in diameter and 6-8 feet deep. That's it!
I think perhaps the Doug firs are pack trees. They like to grow together, and they support one another. Does the one in my backyard get enough support, I wonder. My neighbors have several dougs, so I hope that is enough to keep mine happy. Certainly it's grown quite a bit in the time I've lived here.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Things I'd Like to Post About
Rather than actually writing a post on one of them, I'll make a list of topics.
1. what I've learned working at the department store
2. what I've done and learned this year (2006)
3. Christmas lights and luminaria
4. Hopes and dreams for 2007
1. what I've learned working at the department store
2. what I've done and learned this year (2006)
3. Christmas lights and luminaria
4. Hopes and dreams for 2007
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Letter to a Friend
Hi Bud,
How are you doing with the snow? Socked in? We had a grey, grey, grey, grey Christmas, to Elvize it. Not too much actual rain on the day, which was good because my friend and her 3 dogs came over for the day. Yeah, 2 people and 5 dogs in the kitchen every time the turkey was touched or might be touched or looked at or when any other food might fall. It was fun. Today was clear and bright, so very nice.
Thank you for the luvverly Christmas gifts. This is another late, late year for me and my gifts. I was still assembling my friend's gift when she arrived, so the thrill of it was a little limited. Sleek got her new bed a few days early, and she is very happy with it. Eggcrate foam, a crib mattress vinyl cover, duct tape, and polyester fleece make for a happy old girl. Fluff is a little P.O.ed that hers has yet to make an appearance. The gargoyle you sent makes me feel very grandmotherly, since it makes it look like my larger dog gargoyle has had a puppy (albeit a very mature in shape puppy – not much of a neonatenous look to the little guy!) (is neonatenous the right word? Should it just be neonate?) They have similar features, so possibly are related? The juggling dog is the type of thing Ms. New Orleans has wanted to find for me for years. It’s very cute. The frames are, ah, interesting. Thanks for all of them! Nextdoor neighbors were appalled by my utter treelessness, so they got me a dog-related tree, about a foot tall. It’s made of doggie bones with a dog at the base with one of the bones in his mouth. I gave them lots of cranberry chutney (and not even the batch I burnt!) and supply them with stories about the weird next door neighbor to discuss at work. mpita tried to send me fish oil capsules, but the company confused the order and sent her the fish oil and me the book & DVDs on strengthening your back.
Working at Department Store over Christmas was interesting, even if I did manage to avoid the customers themselves (I don’t dress well enough to be a sales associate). Shoe department of all places. Had an interesting talk with one guy who was waiting for his family to finish shopping somewhere else. He was looking at a pair of platform soled shoes with about a 4” or more heel and asked me how women wear them. I had to say I didn’t know. We went on to discuss the effects on the body of wearing such shoes, choices in America (he sounded as if he is of Middle Eastern origin), kids & chores & entitlement, work ethic, etc. Let’s face it: I was in love from the moment he said he couldn’t understand why women would wear such shoes
The girls send their love, and Sleek wants more pics of your small furry animals. She got to taste a guinea pig at Thanksgiving although she knew she was not supposed to damage it.
This letter should have you scratching your head. I’m OK. I did much better moodwise than I have for several years at Christmas. I hope you guys are safe and happy.
Love,
Kabbage
How are you doing with the snow? Socked in? We had a grey, grey, grey, grey Christmas, to Elvize it. Not too much actual rain on the day, which was good because my friend and her 3 dogs came over for the day. Yeah, 2 people and 5 dogs in the kitchen every time the turkey was touched or might be touched or looked at or when any other food might fall. It was fun. Today was clear and bright, so very nice.
Thank you for the luvverly Christmas gifts. This is another late, late year for me and my gifts. I was still assembling my friend's gift when she arrived, so the thrill of it was a little limited. Sleek got her new bed a few days early, and she is very happy with it. Eggcrate foam, a crib mattress vinyl cover, duct tape, and polyester fleece make for a happy old girl. Fluff is a little P.O.ed that hers has yet to make an appearance. The gargoyle you sent makes me feel very grandmotherly, since it makes it look like my larger dog gargoyle has had a puppy (albeit a very mature in shape puppy – not much of a neonatenous look to the little guy!) (is neonatenous the right word? Should it just be neonate?) They have similar features, so possibly are related? The juggling dog is the type of thing Ms. New Orleans has wanted to find for me for years. It’s very cute. The frames are, ah, interesting. Thanks for all of them! Nextdoor neighbors were appalled by my utter treelessness, so they got me a dog-related tree, about a foot tall. It’s made of doggie bones with a dog at the base with one of the bones in his mouth. I gave them lots of cranberry chutney (and not even the batch I burnt!) and supply them with stories about the weird next door neighbor to discuss at work. mpita tried to send me fish oil capsules, but the company confused the order and sent her the fish oil and me the book & DVDs on strengthening your back.
Working at Department Store over Christmas was interesting, even if I did manage to avoid the customers themselves (I don’t dress well enough to be a sales associate). Shoe department of all places. Had an interesting talk with one guy who was waiting for his family to finish shopping somewhere else. He was looking at a pair of platform soled shoes with about a 4” or more heel and asked me how women wear them. I had to say I didn’t know. We went on to discuss the effects on the body of wearing such shoes, choices in America (he sounded as if he is of Middle Eastern origin), kids & chores & entitlement, work ethic, etc. Let’s face it: I was in love from the moment he said he couldn’t understand why women would wear such shoes
The girls send their love, and Sleek wants more pics of your small furry animals. She got to taste a guinea pig at Thanksgiving although she knew she was not supposed to damage it.
This letter should have you scratching your head. I’m OK. I did much better moodwise than I have for several years at Christmas. I hope you guys are safe and happy.
Love,
Kabbage
Friday, December 22, 2006
Different Slice of Life
Right now I'm working at a department store as holiday help. I put the tried-but-not-bought boxes of women's shoes back in the store room. This job, my first hourly job in over 20 years, is an eye-opener. I know I've been sheltered from many things in my life, but this job helps expose me to people who've been much less sheltered.
One young woman came in to work all happy because a close friend of her family had been arrested. This meant, to her, that the friend would have a chance to get off meth, since a couple of months of jailtime were expected. The next day, however, the young woman was upset because the jail lacked a doctor. Apparently detox had begun and wasn't pretty. Another day, one of the sales associates was planning some surgery. Another associate asked her what pain killers she'd be getting because she had a potential market for them.
Today we started having holiday meltdowns with ugly language flying at probably audible to customer levels. Fortunately, none of it was directed at me. I just go in and start putting boxes away. When I'm caught up on boxes, I put display shoes back out (I am a little confused why the sales staff often sits around instead of putting shoes back out. Do they not realize they are less likely to get commissions if people don't buy shoes because they don't know the store has them?). When that's done, I take a small section of the stockroom and re-organize that. I pretty much see the job as a 4-hour nonaerobic exercise session. I don't talk much there.
I'm learning a good bit about myself. My house is very messy, and my cubicle, when I worked in one, was very messy, too. That was okay with me because those were/are my spaces and no one else had to live or work in them (we won't talk about using a messy house as a way to shut people out of one's life). Having the stockroom messy and/or disorganized bothers me. If multiple people need to use that space, then it should be set up to be organized so all can find what they need to find with the least amount of fuss. I suspect this is part of the caretaker part of my personality coming through. And that's probably due to environmental factors (aka "nurture") when i was a kid.
One young woman came in to work all happy because a close friend of her family had been arrested. This meant, to her, that the friend would have a chance to get off meth, since a couple of months of jailtime were expected. The next day, however, the young woman was upset because the jail lacked a doctor. Apparently detox had begun and wasn't pretty. Another day, one of the sales associates was planning some surgery. Another associate asked her what pain killers she'd be getting because she had a potential market for them.
Today we started having holiday meltdowns with ugly language flying at probably audible to customer levels. Fortunately, none of it was directed at me. I just go in and start putting boxes away. When I'm caught up on boxes, I put display shoes back out (I am a little confused why the sales staff often sits around instead of putting shoes back out. Do they not realize they are less likely to get commissions if people don't buy shoes because they don't know the store has them?). When that's done, I take a small section of the stockroom and re-organize that. I pretty much see the job as a 4-hour nonaerobic exercise session. I don't talk much there.
I'm learning a good bit about myself. My house is very messy, and my cubicle, when I worked in one, was very messy, too. That was okay with me because those were/are my spaces and no one else had to live or work in them (we won't talk about using a messy house as a way to shut people out of one's life). Having the stockroom messy and/or disorganized bothers me. If multiple people need to use that space, then it should be set up to be organized so all can find what they need to find with the least amount of fuss. I suspect this is part of the caretaker part of my personality coming through. And that's probably due to environmental factors (aka "nurture") when i was a kid.
Birthday
Today I am celebrating Fluff's 11th birthday. I don't know her exact date of birth, but this day 11 years ago was a very special one to me, so I use it as her birthday. Here are some pictures of her from the past year.Here she is playing her own invention, the "Silly Stick Game," where she takes a large stick and scoots it around. This game is only played near water, preferably in sand. She almost always plays after she is wet, so her skirts and tail can hold the most sand possible. And that's a lot.
After playing the Silly Stick Game, she has to swim again to rinse out her skirts. She loves big sticks, but sometimes they're so big I'm afraid I'll hit her with them when I throw the stick. Fluff loves retrieving sticks from the water. Only when she was 10 did she decide that maybe the water (much of it snowmelt from the Cascades) is too cold in December & January for retrieving to be fun.
This is the intent Fluff face, hoping I'll throw the stick into the water again. She locks her eyes on mine when she wants something.
These are pictures of us at an obedience trial. We only went to support a friend and hadn't practiced in years. Our performance was overall hysterically funny, but these shots show the kind of attention she can give me when I ask for it. Ironically, I dislike heads-up heeling, when dogs have their heads cranked like while moving with the handler. These two pictures are courtesy of brisbeethewhite.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Sleek
This is Sleek, at 12.5 years old. This picture makes her look heavier than she really is. I think she's one of the most beautiful dogs I've ever seen. Watching her move, in her prime, across an open field just took my breath away, no matter how often I watched her. Fluffy is the girl of my heart, but Sleek is beautiful to Fluffy's pretty.
Christmas Day will mark 8 years since Sleek came to live with Fluff and me. She's lived longer than either of her parents did, and at least two of her littermates are gone, too. I do hope we have another Christmas or two together after this one.
Nose seriously out of joint
Ms. Fluff's nose is seriously out of joint. Our nextdoor neighbors now have a dog. She wasn't thrilled when the son, DIL, and grandkids moved in *and* started using the backyard, but she learned to adjust. It's not like she had access to their backyard, it's just that since no one else used it, either, she took to watching over it, as well as ours. Now the neighbors and their new dog are using the backyard!
The worst part for Fluff is that the dog is a Lab. Fluff doesn't care for labs, because Fluff is a Princess (i.e., not a dog), and Princesses have personal space that is not to be encroached upon by the peons. Unfortunately, Labs have no personal space of their own nor do they recognize that anyone else might have personal space. They also don't realize that a Princess is not a dog, so they treat Fluff like a dog. Shocking! Fluff only weighs about 45 lbs, so an on-rushing lab can easily knock her off her feet.
This afternoon the New Dog was out in its yard with one of the owners. Sleek went over to meet it through the fence. Fluff took one look at it and very pointedly would not look at that side of the yard again. I find her hysterically funny when she decides she cannot see something. She tries it with grooming tools (If I don't see the brush, I cannot be brushed, I am not being brushed....), the leash if she wants to go for a ride instead of a walk, and definitely the vet. She also does it with me when I say mean things like, "You have to stay home this time." Apparently if she doesn't see me say it, she can't hear it. Interesting.
Dogs are frighteningly similar to us sometimes. I know I had no genetic say on this animal (didn't even pick her parents for her), didn't meet her until she was 8 months old so the early puppyhood conditioning wasn't mine, and yet she mirrors so many of my behaviors that it can be creepy. (Yes, I sometimes carefully do not look at the neighbors since the one is most likely to want to talk to me when it's getting dark and I'm trying to get the grass mowed before full dark.)
The worst part for Fluff is that the dog is a Lab. Fluff doesn't care for labs, because Fluff is a Princess (i.e., not a dog), and Princesses have personal space that is not to be encroached upon by the peons. Unfortunately, Labs have no personal space of their own nor do they recognize that anyone else might have personal space. They also don't realize that a Princess is not a dog, so they treat Fluff like a dog. Shocking! Fluff only weighs about 45 lbs, so an on-rushing lab can easily knock her off her feet.
This afternoon the New Dog was out in its yard with one of the owners. Sleek went over to meet it through the fence. Fluff took one look at it and very pointedly would not look at that side of the yard again. I find her hysterically funny when she decides she cannot see something. She tries it with grooming tools (If I don't see the brush, I cannot be brushed, I am not being brushed....), the leash if she wants to go for a ride instead of a walk, and definitely the vet. She also does it with me when I say mean things like, "You have to stay home this time." Apparently if she doesn't see me say it, she can't hear it. Interesting.
Dogs are frighteningly similar to us sometimes. I know I had no genetic say on this animal (didn't even pick her parents for her), didn't meet her until she was 8 months old so the early puppyhood conditioning wasn't mine, and yet she mirrors so many of my behaviors that it can be creepy. (Yes, I sometimes carefully do not look at the neighbors since the one is most likely to want to talk to me when it's getting dark and I'm trying to get the grass mowed before full dark.)
Monday, December 18, 2006
Spelling Kabbage with a K
This is why I spell Kabbage with a K. This is the "real" Kabbage, aka "Fluffy." Since I don't know exactly when her birthday is, although it probably was December or January, since they told me she was 8 months old at the shelter from whence she came, I celebrate it on the Solstice. This year, she turns 11.
Why do I call this dog Kabbage? Her real name begins with a K, and occasionally I've gotten a little frustrated with her. At that point, she comes "K___-you-bitch" which slurs into "K__-yuh-bidge" and eventually the polite company-usable Kabbage.
She has many other names and has a number of titles on the end of her name, but her real title is "best girl." I knew getting a dog would change my life, but I didn't know it would change my perceived values, too.
Before I got Fluffy, no dog would ever sleep on the bed or get on the furniture. That held for a while. Then I decided that since she hadn't yet started ruling the house, she could be on the bed while I read at night, but she would have to get off when I turned out the light. Then we started traveling for agility trials. Fluffy is true to her breed when it comes to guardian instincts. She didn't approve of other people walking past our low-end motel room when we were trying to sleep and let them know. She got moved up to the top of the bed so I could easily grab her to stop the 2a.m. barking. Since she was sleeping on the bed when we traveled, why not at home? Now she must wait for permission to jump on the bed, but she can sleep there once she's invited.
While arguably I saved Fluffy's life (as cute as she is/was, I'm sure someone else would've adopted her if I hadn't), I know she has saved mine once and possibly twice. I adopted Ms Fluff because I was in a relationship that made me feel truly loved, so I felt I had enough extra love to add another life to mine, in terms of this dog. When the relationship ended, I was devastated. For days, I dragged myself to work only to come home afterward and curl up in the fetal position on the living room floor. Poor Fluff was quite young at this time and didn't really know how to handle my distress. She just pressed herself as hard as she could against my back, letting me know I always had someone there for me. Every once in a while, she'd get a squeaky toy to offer me, because a good squeaky can help a lot of problems. If I didn't respond to the squeaky, she'd go back to curling up with me. I was in so much pain, I think I would've tried some drastic methods to stop the pain. The thing was, I had to find a way out of the pain that wouldn't lead to Fluff going back to the pound. That ruled out the lethal "cures." And in the meantime, I had to let her out of the house, feed her, and generally take care of her. I got on with my life, putting the relationship behind me.
A few years later, Fluff and I were on our way home from agility class when a car behind us started blinking its lights and motioning me over. Eventually, I pulled over, although I retained enough common sense to have the doors locked and the window barely cracked. The driver asked for my license. I countered by asking for his ID. He flashed something I couldn't see clearly. Fluff, by now, was bored with the car being motionless. She announced her displeasure with a few sharp barks. Instantly, the man spun on his heel, got into his car, and drove off in the other direction. Good girl, Fluffy!
I do love my little dog. You'll read more about her, I'm sure.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
An Alphabet Meme
Peripatetic Polar Bear wrote:
Mindyhas a meme where you get assigned a letter of the alphabet and have to come up with ten things you love based on that letter. Since I really should be sermonizing, I figured I'd play. I got S.
I asked PPB for a letter and received this reply: "Kabbage, you get a C, for cabbage---the way we spell it in Illinois."
Here goes.
1. Cup, as in mug. A container for hot beverages. One of my previous employers gave out a lot of mugs for different company events, and I still have a number of those. I still have my Bell Atlantic 1-1-84 mug, for the first day of life without Ma Bell. Bell Atlantic is now Verizon, but I left long before that happened.
2. Car, as in my beloved Honda Element. Best darn dog car ever. Cute-ugly, but no carpet to get soaked with dog spit.
3. Checks that I sign on the back, not the front.
4. Cranberry chutney. Even people who don't like cranberries like this stuff. Despite burning a double batch of it this week, it's really pretty easy to make. I must make more to give as gifts this Christmas season.
5. Cooking for friends. I don't much like cooking for just me, but I do enjoy cooking for/with friends. I even kind of like cooking for the dogs, although I try to pretty much keep from cooking with the dogs.
6. Candles, which I'm probably going to need soon. We have a major winter blow going through, with rain, and the lights are flickering every once in a while. Cable connection, too. Give me real scents, though, not artificial ones!
7. My CD player. I bought it in 1989, and it's still spinning those discs whenever I ask (assuming we have power). It was a bonus to myself for breaking up with a certain doofus.
8. Chinese food. Thai is really yummy, too. The abundance of Thai restaurants where I live amazed me when I first moved here from the Midwest.
9. Canada. Fun people, beautiful places, cute way of saying "aboot" instead of "about."
10. Chocolate! Dark chocolate. Good chocolate. Hot chocolate. Chocolate-orange ice cream. As soon as I publish this, I'm going to brave the wind for a trip to Trader Joe's for more truffles.
I'm struggling over how to get my dogs into this meme. They are the things I most love these days. How about....
11. Cat-chasing dogs! Sleek used to have really bad intentions toward cats, but she's mellowed now that the body can't deliver what the ego demands in terms of speed and jumping ability. Fluffy chases until the cat stops, then she becomes fascinated with some object that just happens to be close to said cat.
Thanks, PPB!
Mindyhas a meme where you get assigned a letter of the alphabet and have to come up with ten things you love based on that letter. Since I really should be sermonizing, I figured I'd play. I got S.
I asked PPB for a letter and received this reply: "Kabbage, you get a C, for cabbage---the way we spell it in Illinois."
Here goes.
1. Cup, as in mug. A container for hot beverages. One of my previous employers gave out a lot of mugs for different company events, and I still have a number of those. I still have my Bell Atlantic 1-1-84 mug, for the first day of life without Ma Bell. Bell Atlantic is now Verizon, but I left long before that happened.
2. Car, as in my beloved Honda Element. Best darn dog car ever. Cute-ugly, but no carpet to get soaked with dog spit.
3. Checks that I sign on the back, not the front.
4. Cranberry chutney. Even people who don't like cranberries like this stuff. Despite burning a double batch of it this week, it's really pretty easy to make. I must make more to give as gifts this Christmas season.
5. Cooking for friends. I don't much like cooking for just me, but I do enjoy cooking for/with friends. I even kind of like cooking for the dogs, although I try to pretty much keep from cooking with the dogs.
6. Candles, which I'm probably going to need soon. We have a major winter blow going through, with rain, and the lights are flickering every once in a while. Cable connection, too. Give me real scents, though, not artificial ones!
7. My CD player. I bought it in 1989, and it's still spinning those discs whenever I ask (assuming we have power). It was a bonus to myself for breaking up with a certain doofus.
8. Chinese food. Thai is really yummy, too. The abundance of Thai restaurants where I live amazed me when I first moved here from the Midwest.
9. Canada. Fun people, beautiful places, cute way of saying "aboot" instead of "about."
10. Chocolate! Dark chocolate. Good chocolate. Hot chocolate. Chocolate-orange ice cream. As soon as I publish this, I'm going to brave the wind for a trip to Trader Joe's for more truffles.
I'm struggling over how to get my dogs into this meme. They are the things I most love these days. How about....
11. Cat-chasing dogs! Sleek used to have really bad intentions toward cats, but she's mellowed now that the body can't deliver what the ego demands in terms of speed and jumping ability. Fluffy chases until the cat stops, then she becomes fascinated with some object that just happens to be close to said cat.
Thanks, PPB!
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