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Posts Tagged ‘pets’
It’s just a game…until it isn’t!
Posted in Sleeping Between Giants, tagged chew, dog, pets, puppy, terrier, toys, training on December 9, 2016| Leave a Comment »
“But what can one dog do?” (Heh! He said ‘dog do’.)
Posted in Humor, politics, Sleeping Between Giants, tagged Brexit, cnn, dog, election, news, pets, protest, Trump on July 13, 2016| 4 Comments »
This strip is part of “Sleeping Between Giants“, an ongoing series featured on the Write Good!: The Blog blog.
Sleeping Between Giants explores life – if you can call it that – with a terrier.
Your feedback is welcome, probably. dj
Permission to re-use this material for non-commercial purposes is granted provided that Dave Jaffe, www.writegoodtheblog.com, is appropriately credited as the author and source. Please feel free to link to this page.
Shoes and Socks – A Taste Test, Part 3: Positive Reinforcement or ‘They Made Me a Criminal!’
Posted in Humor, Sleeping Between Giants, tagged ASPCA, behavior, bones, chew, dog, humane, pets, puppy, rawhide, separation, shoe, teeth, terrier, toys on June 4, 2016| Leave a Comment »
By Dave Jaffe
Dogs and shoes can live together in harmony provided both are willing to compromise. To reach an accord, dogs have to be trained to respect shoes, while shoes must agree to limit all provocative missile test launches over disputed borders.
While seasoned diplomats attend to the latter, let’s explore the former.
Positive reinforcement training combines praise and treats to reward behavior, a method that has proved effective on canines and, to a lesser extent, millennials.
A testament to positive reinforcement is Jake, sent in by owner Debra R. Observe Jake (left) with a “stolen” shoe, and Jake (right) after six months of training. Note on the right his contrition, repentance, and smoldering regret. Also the smaller shoe. Well done, Jake!
Using positive reinforcement, for example, a dog would be compensated little by little for not engaging in inappropriate activities, a process trainers describes as “shaping” and law enforcement calls “extortion.”
GIANT 2: “Dave, Budleigh’s getting near your shoes!”
GIANT 1: “Good! Got the cookies ready?”
GIANT 2: “And the cheese bits. And the tuna.”
GIANT 1: “OK. Don’t react until he looks at me.”
BUDLEIGH: “Saaay, nice pair of loafers ya’ got here. Really nice! Too bad if something happened to ‘em. Know what I mean?”
BRISBY: “Yeah, Boss!”
BUDLEIGH: “Shaddup, you! Like I was sayin’, sad if something happened to them shoes. Or this house. Or maybe your family. That would be a damn shame, wouldn’t it?”
BRISBY: “Yeah, Boss!”
BUDLEIGH: “Shaddup, you!”
GIANT 1: “He’s looking at me! Give him a treat! Give him a treat!”
GIANT 2: “Gooooood Budleigh! Smart Budleigh!”
BUDLEIGH: “Thanks. Tasty! Very tasty! Sorta like, ya’ know, this genuine EYE-talian leather over here.”
GIANT 1: “Give him another! Give him another!”
GIANT 2: “Here, Budleigh! What a gooood dog!”
BUDLEIGH: “That’s better. You’re both good kids. We’re gonna get along just fine. So I’ll see you same time tomorrow, right?”
BRISBY: “Yeah, Boss!”
BUDLEIGH: “Shaddup, you!”
While positive reinforcement training is valuable in controlling shoe-chewing behavior and organized crime, also essential is to provide your dog a variety of chewing alternatives. Numerous products are available, some rugged and durable, others as vulnerable as a swimmer bleeding in shark-infested waters.
Whether made of hard rubber, nylon or plastic, no chew toy is indestructible, with the exception of those constructed of Indestructibilium™, an element lost when the planet Krypton exploded. Frequent inspection of such toys for excessive wear and sharp edges is mandatory. Those that are ragged or jagged should be taken away from the dog, easily done by distracting him with a pair of shoes.
Short, thick lengths of rope with heavy, intricate knots tied at either end are a favorite chew toy of dogs and sailors everywhere. Rope toys also serve as doggie dental floss, cleaning teeth of bits of hard rubber, nylon, plastic and Indestructibilium™.
Finally, rawhide chews made from cow or horse hides have long proved satisfying for dogs. The same is true of bully sticks, which are made from the pizzle or penis of a bull. Let me just repeat that last part. They’re made. From the pizzle. Or Penis. Of. A bull!
I thought it best to emphasis this before you and your dog picnic on a ranch near a corral enclosing a bull that seems, well, angrier than usual.
Next: Ask a terrier, if you think it will do any good.
###
This article is part of “Sleeping Between Giants“, an ongoing series featured on the Write Good!: The Blog blog.
Sleeping Between Giants explores life – if you can call it that – with a terrier.
Your feedback is welcome, probably. dj
Permission to re-use this material for non-commercial purposes is granted provided that Dave Jaffe, www.writegoodtheblog.com, is appropriately credited as the author and source. Please feel free to link to this page.
Shoes and Socks: A Taste Test
Posted in Humor, Sleeping Between Giants, tagged anxiety, ASPCA, breed, chew, chewing, dog, dog proof, humane, pets, puppy, shoe, teeth, terrier, toys on May 17, 2016| 2 Comments »
By Dave Jaffe
Dogs use their teeth to explore the world much the way we use the Internet. A dog’s mouth and tongue serve as router and modem, while its excretory system works like Comcast.
Whether having teeth leads to chewing or chewing is the outcome of having teeth is a “chicken or the egg” paradox, although dogs will eat both so why are we even debating? Let’s instead focus on the reasons dogs chew my shoes and socks and, to a lesser extent, yours.
Chewing is a perfectly normal canine behavior. In fact, the word canine is Latin for “He ruined what?” Puppies and young dogs might chew to relieve teething pain. Older dogs chew to combat boredom, ease anxiety, or reduce frustration. Some chew simply as a way to prop up the international leather trade. Whatever the cause, to correct an inappropriate chewing behavior, the thoughtful canine owner must first ask, “He ruined what?”
Who chewed the shoes? Can you solve this Minute Mystery? For the answer, turn to page 159.
So, what is “inappropriate” for dogs to chew? This varies from dog to dog depending on their size, age, and the dietary restrictions of their religion. However, generally banned items include:
• Shoes, socks
• Children
• The military
• Another shoe and sock, damn it!
• (For large dogs) aircraft engine parts before, during flight
• (For small dogs) large dogs
• Six of the current associate justices of the Supreme Court
• Cash, bonds
• Oh, for God’s sake! Another shoe and sock?
Some dogs can quickly learn to avoid forbidden items with just a bit of guidance, a few treats, and an instructional PowerPoint presentation. However, most dogs know exactly what they’re doing when, say, they chew up $75.85 in uncashed checks, as was the case with our formerly alive terrier thing, Oxford.
Giant 2 still insists it was a coincidence that Oxford ravaged four checks taken from four locations over five weeks. It’s was all just paper to him, she says. He didn’t know any better. He was just a dog!
No, he was a terrier. Some dogs track explosives. Others uncover drug caches. Terriers foment crime. Of course Oxford knew that checks were valuable. Dogs have a surprisingly keen understanding of the Federal Reserve. Also their own sophisticated monetary system based on tennis balls. But Oxford wasn’t after the money. His was a mission to corrupt young Brisby, the schnoodle who can do no wrong.
OXFORD: “Hey, kid. C’mere!”
BRISBY: “But I’m on my way to church, Oxford.”
OXFORD: “Sure, sure. You want ta’ see something?”
BRISBY: “I’m supposed to light candles!”
OXFORD: “Yeah, that can wait. (Noses envelope off desk.) Ever see one of these?”
BRISBY: “Is it a cookie?”
OXFORD: “That’s right, a cookie. But you gotta open it, first. Go on, open it!”
BRISBY: “Okay, Oxford! What’s ‘open?’”
OXFORD: “Oh, for… Gimme that!” (He shreds.)
BRISBY: “I have to go now or I’ll miss hymn howling.”
OXFORD: “Too late, kid. You’re in this as deep as me.”
BRISBY: “Do I still get a cookie?”
Next: Wait! Weren’t we talking about shoes and socks?
###
This article is part of “Sleeping Between Giants“, an ongoing series featured on the Write Good!: The Blog blog.
Sleeping Between Giants explores life – if you can call it that – with a terrier.
Your feedback is welcome, probably. dj
Permission to re-use this material for non-commercial purposes is granted provided that Dave Jaffe, www.writegoodtheblog.com, is appropriately credited as the author and source. Please feel free to link to this page.
Dog Grooming Tips, Part 3: The Drying Game
Posted in Humor, Sleeping Between Giants, tagged ASPCA, bath, bathe, breed, dog, drier, dry, dryer, groom, hair, humane, pets, puppy, terrier on April 26, 2016| Leave a Comment »
By Dave Jaffe
(Our feature on dog grooming tips that began with Best Practices for You, Your Dog, and Your Fingers and continued in Grooming Tips, Part 2: Bathing your Dog – The New Waterboarding concludes with this column. Unless I forgot something.)
Witty Physics would have us believe that drying a dog is the same as wetting a dog, only backwards, if you follow the math.
Apparently, Physics has never dried a dog. Or owned one. Or been on a date since 1990. So thanks anyway, Physics. We’ll take it from here.
Evolutionarily speaking, fur has proved an excellent material for encasing a dog – more resilient than scales, better protection than thorns, and vastly superior to a flour tortilla for retaining both meat and cheese.
However, dog fur also is capable of holding an enormous amount of water. This trait was well suited to prehistoric canines, which were aquatic. Sleek, gilled, and paddle-footed, these 80-feet-long behemoths swam the world’s primordial oceans retrieving primitive tennis balls the size of The Bean.
Eventually, as the great oceans cooled, aquatic Canine developed beyond gill and paddle crawling onto land in a desperate effort to find and bite me.
However they were still soaking wet.
Today’s modern canine retains most of that water. Add to that the moisture absorbed during a bath and the average medium-sized, soft-coated dog can serve effectively as an oil rig fire suppression system. Thus, knowing the Three Methods of Drying – air drying, towel drying, and blow drying – is as important to the citizen dog owner as understanding the three branches of government: the Executive, the Legislative, and the Santa Maria.
This “turban-style” fur drying technique is ideal for the harried dog that still needs to do makeup and nails before prom.
Also knowing your dog’s fears before selecting a drying technique can reduce his trauma and your arterial puncture wounds. Some dogs grow frightened if covered with towels. Others panic at loud noises like those of a hair dryer. And some, like our formerly alive terrier Oxford are terrified of flies.
I don’t know why flies troubled this efficient, little killing machine. He routinely knocked off rabbits, chipmunks, even a squirrel or two with the detached psychopathy of a professional hit man. But flies? Flies were the buzzing souls of those he’d murdered. So he hired Brisby for protection.
OXFORD: “That Yakuza contract on the chipmunk under the stoop? Considered it completed.”
BRISBY: “Should I be hearing this, Boss?”
OXFORD: “I’m gonna take a nap. Nobody wakes me. Capisce?”
BRISBY: “What’s ‘capisce?’ Can I eat it?”
OXFORD: “Shaddup! Listen! Your hear that…that buzzing? Like a little voice crying, ‘You killed me! And several dozen of my brothers and sisters, probably. And also peed on my burrow. Now I shall punish you with a sort of high-pitched, mildly annoying whine somewhere in your general vicinity. Forever!’ Ahhhhh! What is that thing?”
BRISBY: “A capisce? Can I eat it?”
Then Oxford would run upstairs to our bed where flies couldn’t find him and hide there until the end of summer. We rarely tried to bathe and dry him before the first killing frost.
Having mastered our fears, let’s explore the pros and cons of each drying method. Mostly cons.
Air Drying: Thrifty, Natural, Useless
Were it not for vice squads, who among us wouldn’t choose to dry off after a shower by running around the backyard au naturel and rolling in smelly stuff au poop?
Sadly, only dogs can get away with that. Also my Uncle Reggie, twice.
The efficacy of air drying depends, in part, on your dog’s ability to shake off water. According to an animal drying study out of Georgia Tech, (“Home of the Fightin’ Wet Malamutes”) a dog can shake approximately 70 percent of the water from its fur in four seconds. And even more if they have a good sense of humor and you’re standing really close.
Due to his type of coat and generally nurturing behavior, Brisby is not an ideal candidate for the air drying method. Budleigh’s demeanor, however, makes him a poor candidate for any process short of One Hour Martinizing.
GIANT 1: “Good, Brisby! All done bath. Now give us a biiiig shake!”
BRISBY: “You’re sure? Everyone’s sought shelter? There are enough lifeboats? OK, here we go.”
GIANT 1: “Good shake, Brisby!”
GIANT 2: “That’s it? But he’s still wet, Dave. Maybe wetter.”
GIANT 1: “Well, he’s not done. No, we’re not done are we, Brisby? We’re gonna shake, shake shake, my good boy!”
BRISBY: “Do you know what you’re asking? People could die! You need to get to high ground. Wait! I feel another tremor. It’s the big one!”
GIANT 1: “Awww, he’s adorable!”
GIANT 2: “But he’s just soaking the rug, Dave. I’ll go grab towels.”
BRISBY: “Yes, go! Save yourselves!”
In the very broadest terms Budleigh is likewise nurturing, if by “nurturing” we mean “possessed by Lovecraftian dark forces,” and by “air dry” we mean “unleashed on the innocent townspeople.”
GIANT 1: “Good, Budleigh! All done bath. Now give us a biiiig shake!”
BUDLEIGH: “I’m freeeeeee! I’m free, I’m free, I’m free! Get out of my way!”
GIANT 2: “Oh shit! Grab him, Dave!”
GIANT 1: “Grab him how? His collar’s in his mouth. That was our deal.”
BUDLEIGH: “I’m on your bed! Look! I’m on your beeeeed! Now I’m running my face on the carpet. I’m a racecar. Vroooooooom!”
GIANT 2: “Dave, he’s going to ruin the throw pillows. He’s out of control.”
GIANT 1: “C’mere, Budleigh! Who wants a cookie?”
BUDLEIGH: “Your cookies won’t help you! Your priests won’t help you. This house in mine!”
BRISBY: “He’s Satan! Burn him! Save yourselves! And the cookies!”
Towel Drying: The Soggier Alternative
Towels have been successfully employed to dry pets, as well as for other functions, since their creation in the late nineteenth century. The brainchild of inventor Jacob “Textiles” Towelie, the cloths were introduced with great fanfare at the 1893 Columbian Exposition as “Doctor Amazo’s Liquid Drinking Absorbmechanical Automata.”
At first accessible only to the wealthy, towels became more commonplace due to advances in manufacturing. By the 1990s most American homes could boast at least one towel.
Prior to then, dogs remained quite moist.
But fortune favors the bold, and soon a plucky American populous turned their towel to their wet dogs until, by the summer of 2013, this nation was buried beneath a pile of damp, dirty rags.
New dog owners think towel drying is simply a matter of draping a cloth over the wet animal, briskly rubbing her flanks, prying the towel from her jaws, grabbing a second towel while clutching a hind leg, rolling her back onto her feet, rolling her back the other way, hoisting her off the first towel and onto the second, massaging your stinging back spasm caused by hoisting her, ignoring the ringing cell phone, avoiding licks, avoiding bites, and finally dumping her onto a third towel, all the while assuring her that she’s a “smart girl” although, probably, she isn’t.
Towel drying is, of course, much trickier than that, so prepare accordingly:
1. Before bathing your pet, stack designated “doggie towels” nearby
2. Also stack nearby every other towel you own
3. Call your neighbors and borrow all their towels. Stack nearby
4. Bathe dog
5. Call back neighbors who didn’t answer. They own dogs and are hoarding stacks.
6. Carefully lift dog from sink or tub, removing excess water by twisting animal comically like a cartoon pooch. Repeat.
7. Call back Steve, the neighbor who borrowed your pruning shears. He owes you a big ol’ stack of towels, son of a bitch!
8. Set dog on floor and stand back while he shakes vigorously. Why did this come as a surprise? Have you not been reading?
9. Check dog’s undercoat for hidden towel stacks.
10. Say, how late is Target open? They sell stacks and stacks of towels!
The floorboards now groaning under a mass of linens, your drenched pup helplessly pinned between towers of cloth, the air choked with cotton lint, it’s time to begin the water extraction process by selecting a favorite dog-cleaning towel. Usually these are the ones that belonged to your ex or were a holiday gift from the company that laid you off. The ideal towel is one that you don’t mind—and even prefer—covered in excrement.
Start by draping a thick, absorbent towel over the wet animal. It should be soft and absorbent enough to soak up surface water, yet large enough so that your dog appears dressed in traditional Bedouin wedding garb.
Briskly but gently dry face and ears while monitoring your pet’s stress level. Some dogs exhibit anxiety if their heads are completely covered by a towel, while others, like Brisby, stand quietly awaiting the Rapture.
Budleigh doesn’t fit into either of these groups, or might if we were able to get a towel around him. This has proved a challenge that requires Giants One and Two to work in tandem like efficient fisherfolk attempting to net a fast-swimming school of herring armed with pocketknives.
GIANT 1: “He’s gonna break left, so get your towel ready. I’ll try to trick him to go right.”
GIANT 2: “He knows all your tricks, Dave. He’s going left.”
GIANT 1: “No, this time I’ll stand here with my towel behind my back and make a sound like the can opener. He’ll come right to me.”
GIANT 2: “You haven’t thought this through.”
BUDLEIGH: “I’ll just be going now!”
GIANT 1: “Really, I saw this on Animal Planet. Only instead of a terrier it was an immense migration of wildebeest. And instead of a can opener it was a raging, uncontained wild fire.
GIANT 2: “Perfect!”
BUDLEIGH: “I’m going that way. So, you know, good luck!”
GIANT 2: “Dave, we’ve got a runner!”
GIANT 1: “RRRrrrrr-RRRrrrr! Grind, grind! rrrrRRR-rrrRRR! Damn! Missed him!”
GIANT 2: “That’s your can opener, Dave? ‘Grind, grind?’”
GIANT 1: “Too nasal?”
BUDLEIGH: “I heard a wildebeest!”
Blow Drying, or Gone with the Wind
Who among us hasn’t washed their face in a public restroom, then groping blindly for the hand dryer, accidentally activated what appears to be the searing hot, thunderously loud exhaust of a Lockheed Martin F-22A fighter jet?
That’s how dogs perceive blow dryers.
Dogs tend to be leery of hair dryers, as they are of anything that requires thumbs. Getting your dog accustomed to loud noise like that produced by a dryer should be done in small stages. For example, monitor how he reacts when you pop open a can of beer. Did he remain calm? If so, drink your beer and think about that. Now move a little closer and pop open another. Still quiet? Hmmm…that’s worth some more thought. Continue this process until you’re tearfully telling your pet that he’s yer’ bes’…yer’ bes’ goddamn frien’ since your ex walked out leaving you with all those towels.
For many dogs, however, it is the dryer’s blowy-hotty functionality that is most distressing. Best to set the dryer on low heat and low blow-outyness, then move it quickly back and forth across the animal’s coat avoiding the face and paws.
Oh, and Brisby would also like to suggest that before you get to him, go right ahead and blow dry all the other dogs everywhere in the world. He’ll wait.
Budleigh, however, absolutely adores the blow dryer and hopes to marry one, pending a favorable ruling by the Supreme Court of the United States. This might be a trait common to terrier mutts. Oxford, our formerly alive terrier thing, would demand to be blow dried even when he wasn’t wet.
Oxford never feared the dryer, possibly because he’d grown so accustomed to it being used on Brisby, who was bathed often. Young Brisby was an easily distracted dog, often following butterflies through whatever patch of filth and muck they flew over. The butterflies thought he was hoot! He paid the price in baths.
Wet Oxford enjoyed a blow dry like an old Russian Jew relishes a good sauna schvitz. He’d sit contentedly in Giant Two’s lap, eyes half-lidded, wiry-haired chest thrust out, and lean into the air stream, sighing, “Such a day, I’ve had. Don’t ask!”
Even when dry, Oxford sought the wind and warmth, urgently nosing ahead of wet Brisby to grab the barber chair.
“Sorry, guy! Big client presentation today,” he’d claim. “Just need a little off the top, then I’m outta here!”
Though not as obsessed as Oxford, Budleigh is not nearly so resigned as Brisby. He sees this activity as a means to an end. The means is the hair dryer; the end is having the world’s entire population committed to making him feel good.
BUDLEIGH: “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Plug the thing in the thing! Get to work!”
GIANT 1: “He’s so excited, hon. What a little cutie. OW!”
BUDLEIGH: “That’s your only warning. Don’t talk. Dry!”
GIANT 2: “Did he nip you again, Dave?”
GIANT 1: “A little. Think he’s afraid of the blow dryer? Does he seem anxious?”
GIANT 2: “Maybe we should just hand dry him.”
GIANT 1: “Do we have enough towels? I could call Steve. He has stacks and stacks, that son of a bitch!”
BUDLEIGH: “No, no, no, no! It’s all good! See? I’m on my back doing that funny thing with the paws.”
GIANT 2: “Oh, look at him on his back doing that funny thing with his paws.”
BUDLEIGH: “I’m adorable!”
GIANT 1: “He’s adorable!”
BUDLEIGH: “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”
GIANTS 1 & 2: “ʻThese aren’t the droids we’re looking for.ʼ”
GIANT 1: “Here we go, Budleigh. Gooood Budleigh! Don’t be scared of the big noise.”
BUDLEIGH: “Ahhh…. Feels so good! Sounds like the can opener.”
GIANT 2: “Now we do your tummy. Next, your sides and back. Yeah, that feels so good, doesn’t it?”
BUDLEIGH: “Such a day, I’ve had!”
GIANT 2: “Hon, while I finish him will you get Brisby ready?”
BRISBY: “Look, if you’re not going to towel dry me, I’ll be next door at Steve’s, that son of a bitch!”
###
This article is part of “Sleeping Between Giants“, a new series of columns on the Write Good!: The Blog blog.
Sleeping Between Giants explores life – if you can call it that – with a terrier.
Your feedback is welcome, probably. dj
Permission to re-use this material for non-commercial purposes is granted provided that Dave Jaffe, www.writegoodtheblog.com, is appropriately credited as the author and source. Please feel free to link to this page.
Grooming Tips: Best Practices for You, Your Dog, and Your Fingers
Posted in Humor, Sleeping Between Giants, tagged animal, ASPCA, bath, breed, brush, care, clean, clip, coat, dog, fur, groom, hair, pets, puppy, shed, smell, terrier, wash on March 6, 2016| Leave a Comment »
By Dave Jaffe
Anyone who has safely landed a powered aircraft in severe weather without the benefit of instrumentation, aircrew or their vision has all the skills needed to successfully groom a dog.
Proper grooming provides numerous benefits for your pet beyond good health. A lustrous coat, healthy gums, and skin free of tics and dirt has catapulted many dogs into high-paying jobs as television news anchors. It’s commonly acknowledged that multi-talented journalist George Stephanopoulos began his broadcast career as a matted border collie.
Yet, many dogs balk when it comes to bathing, brushing, nail clipping or cleaning between the facial folds of certain breeds. And by the way, somebody really needs to come up with a name for that last bit because I never again want to write “cleaning between the facial folds.”
Regardless of size, breed or temperament, all dogs have their own idiosyncratic responses to being groomed, most of which involve biting me. Our formerly alive terrier, Oxford, seemed convinced that biting me was part of the grooming process. Even if someone else groomed him and I was out of town.
GIANT 1: “Hi, family! I’m home from Cleveland.”
GIANT 2: “Oh Dave! I missed you!”
LI’L GIANTS 1.1 and 1.2: “Daddy! What’ja bring us?”
OXFORD: “Look! I’m clean! (CHOMP!)
Grooming needn’t be traumatic for your pet. With just a bit of forethought, the proper supplies, and a few practical techniques, you can enhance your dog’s grooming experience and reduce the risk he’ll bite me.
Bathing Tip: Is your sink the right size for your dog? Not if his paws are in the garbage disposal. (Music swells) The More you Know….
Bathing: Nature’s way of convincing dogs we hate them
The web site of the ASPCS – an acronym for North American Free Trade Agreement –“recommends bathing your dog at least once every three months.”
From this wording, it’s not clear whether the ASPCA is offering to bath your dog once every three months, but God, let’s hope so!
The sentence goes on to note – and yes, we’re still working on that same sentence, so go get yourself coffee and a maybe a danish – that “some [dogs] may require more frequent baths if he or she spends a lot of time outdoors or has skin problems.”
This would seem to encompass a group of dogs that includes all dogs, which, if the ASPCA makes good on their promise to wash everyone’s pup, might severely tax their resources.
How often you bathe your dog is, of course, a personal and deeply religious matter between you, your dog, and your God, and your dog’s God. Wisely, the ASPCA and many other pet advice web sites offer dog owners a series of “how to” steps that are both helpful and non-sectarian.
Begin by giving your dog a good brushing to remove dead hair, mats, loose change, smaller dogs, and other debris. What constitutes a “good brushing” is open to interpretation and is much debated between breeds during their conclaves at dog parks.
LABRADOR RETRIEVER: “I like being brushed! He lets me get the comb. Then he lets me get the brush. And sometimes I bring him the comb AND the brush, ‘cause I can do that! And I bring him the ball. Then I bring him the ball again. And then again. And I—ˮ
PUG: “Why is your breed popular? I just don’t get it. Am I missing something?”
GOLDEN RETRIEVER: “Well now, he raises a good point. And so do you. So does everyone. I love you all. I’m a good boy!”
TERRIER MUTT: “Gimme that!”
PUG: “What?”
TERRIER MUTT: “I don’t know. But if you have anything, give it to me! Now!”
LABRADOR RETRIEVER: “—but I can’t bring the ball AND the comb AND the brush. So I leave the comb, but I bring the bush. Then I go get the ball, but he really wants the brush. So I—ˮ
TERRIER MUTT: “Shut up! Shut UP! Gimme the thing! And the other thing! And all your other things! Now! Gimme NOW!”
PUG: (To water spaniel) “What is his problem? Is he here every day?”
WATER SPANIEL: “You think it’s gonna rain? Looks like rain. Boy, I hope it rains.”
After brushing, put your dog in a sink or tub filled with about three-to-four inches of lukewarm water. Then depending on the animal’s bulk, wet it down using a hand sprayer, large plastic pitcher, or appropriately-sized piece of firefighting apparatus.
It is often at this stage that your dog will bite me. This is not their fault. It’s just the way that their brains are wired. Dogs in a bath are much like rock concert attendees who got their hands on some bad shit. They are alternately euphoric and paranoid. Take, for example, the typical bathing experience of our terrier thing, Budleigh.
GIANT 1: (To Budleigh, standing calmly in the sink.) “What a good Budleigh! Isn’t this nice and warm? Best boy!”
BUDLEIGH: “It’s all so beautiful, man! All the light…”
GIANT 1: “That’s right. Nice and calm. Now we’re just going to spray your coat.”
BUDLEIGH: “I can taste the colors. I’m floating … floating on a soft cloud of—Holy Shit! What is that thing?”
GIANT 1: “It’s ok. Just the hand sprayer—”
BUDLEIGH: “It’s a demon! A deeemoooon! It’s gonna swallow the world!”
GIANT 1: “Ow! Shhhh… It’s ok. You’re ok. Doesn’t that feel nice and toasty warm?”
BUDLEIGH: “I love you! I’m floating. Paul is the Walrus!”
GIANT 1: “Good Budleigh! Nice Budleigh. Gentle Budleigh. Ow! You son of a bitch!”
BUDLEIGH: “Oh, you’re real? My mistake.”
Shampoo is now applied, and if your dog wasn’t in a good mood before, life’s not about to improve.
###
Next post: The Lathering
###
This article is part of “Sleeping Between Giants”, a new series of columns on the Write Good!: The Blog blog.
Sleeping Between Giants explores life – if you can call it that – with a terrier.
Your feedback is welcome, probably. dj
Permission to re-use this material for non-commercial purposes is granted provided that Dave Jaffe, www.writegoodtheblog.com, is appropriately credited as the author and source. Please feel free to link to this page.
Drawing a Line in the Sand in your Bed
Posted in Humor, Sleeping Between Giants, tagged aggression, animal, bed, behavior, breed, canine, crate, dog, guard, housetraining, pets, puppy, sleep, terrier, training on February 1, 2016| 6 Comments »
By Dave Jaffe
[This article is part of “Sleeping Between Giants”, a new series that explores life – if you can call it that – with a terrier.]
In a perfect world, dogs don’t sleep on the bed. But we don’t live in a perfect world. We live in Budleigh’s.
GIANT 1: “Honey, wake up! WakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeup!”
GIANT 2: “Dave! What?”
GIANT 1: “Budleigh’s whining.”
GIANT 2: “So you woke me?”
GIANT 1: “He’s in his crate. Alone. In the kitchen. What else was I to do?”
BUDLEIGH: (Distantly) “I’m innocent!”
GIANT 2: “Well, you’re a grownup. Go fix it.”
BUDLEIGH: “I’ve done nothing! You have the wrong dog!”
GIANT 1: “But if I go, he’ll mark me as a sucker. You go. He doesn’t like you.”
GIANT 2: “What is that supposed to mean? Of course he likes me!”
GIANT 1: “Not like like. He senses that you have an agenda.”
BUDLEIGH: “I smell gas! I can’t breathe!”
GIANT 2: “Dave, I walk him. I feed him. I brush his coat. For God’s sake, I brush his teeth when I can get near them—ˮ
GIANT 1: “Sounding like an agenda.”
BUDLEIGH: “I can be a credit to the pack. I hunt! I kill without remorse! I’m terrier strong!”
GIANT 2: “Well, since he already hates me—ˮ
GIANT 1: “No one said ‘hate’—ˮ
GIANT 2: “—you go let him out. You two have a little doggie party at 3 a.m. and drink shots, and get tattoos. I’m going back to sleep.”
BUDLEIGH: “Damn your agendas!”
Allowing your dog to share the bed is no minor concession. Unless limits are clearly established, your dog can be quite demanding. In the case of a terrier, such demands are like those the Pharaoh made of the ancient Hebrews: “Do as I command or face destruction!” Coincidentally, that’s also the campaign platform of three Republican presidential candidates.
Before making any changes to sleeping arrangements, gauge your willingness to accommodate a dog by asking yourself a number of probing questions, most of which begin, “Why does this God damn dog…”
How big is my dog going to grow compared with how big I’m going to grow?
With most breeds, it’s fairly simple to estimate the limits of their full growth. But mixed-breed rescue dogs like Budleigh are unknowns. With proper nutrition, their growth is limited only by the combined military’s ability to destroy them. (See Clifford, the Big Red Menace.)
Like most dogs, Budleigh can increase his mass at will by absorbing nitrogen atoms from the atmosphere – a process called Science.
However, knowing that Budleigh is some sort of terrier thing made us confident that he wouldn’t grow any larger than a Mini Cooper. When our veterinarian first inspected young Budleigh, I asked him to predict his adult size. The vet spread Budleigh’s paw, caressed his ears, scratched his neck.
“25, maybe 30 pounds,” he snapped with the confidence of a carny worker.
“Just like that, you can tell? Don’t you have to, I don’t know, cut off his tail and count the rings?”
NOTE: Don’t joke with veterinarians about cutting off a dog’s tail. They look at you sternly and you don’t get the free doggie toothbrush.
By the age of two Budleigh reached his full size and weight – around 27 pounds, much of that from shoe leather. Because of his compact size and the maturity he had demonstrated except around shoes, we decided to allow him to sleep with us on a probationary basis pending the approval of Brisby, our bed’s canine union shop steward.
Brisby rubber stamped our decision, which he always does, especially during an election year and Budleigh joined us on the bed.
So I’m sleeping here. Then there’s this dog, And way over there’s my wife. That ain’t gonna fly, if you know what I mean. Any advice?
I’m not sure that I understand what you’re…Oh! Ohhhhhh! (Nervously tugging at shirt coller.) Okay. Okay, let’s talk about dog…uh…positioning, shall we?
In repose, dogs tend to encroach on their owner’s space in much the same way that the larval Alien creature “encroaches” on their victim’s stomach lining.
Animal behaviorists recommend either of two responses: Correct through training or give up. As a dog owner and pack leader, you’ve a responsibility to devote the time and attention needed to correct through training, then give up.
Training our formerly alive and exceptionally bright terrier Oxford was simple. He curled up at the foot of our bed, then when Denise fell asleep, he stealthily moved up and snuggled all night against her back. Not my back. So, problem solved!
Brisby was a different challenge. A student of Mahatma Gandhi and schooled in the tactics of nonviolent civil disobedience, he’d lie between us, then go utterly limp when we, or several hardy police officers, attempted to move him.
Though no bigger than Budleigh, Brisby could, through some complex rule of physics, increase his mass by 400 percent. Lifting him was like hoisting a locomotive with several cars still attached and drooping onto the track.
Gently but firmly pushing him worked no better. His neck would bend until his head was in danger of snapping its moorings. Guilt outweighed our comfort.
“He’s like a superfluid,” claimed my son, a mechanical engineer, as he once struggled to raise Brisby a foot above the bed. “He’s flowing through my fingers, then reforming out of a pool of dog.”
Eventually, Brisby claimed the foot of the bed as his own, probably annoyed that Denise and I radiated too much heat.
I’m not sure that constitutes training.
Budleigh sleeps between us giants. Training goes slowly.
GIANT 1: “OK, Budleigh boy! Time to move for nite-nite! Come! Come! Come!”
BUDLEIGH: “No, I’m good!”
GIANT 1: “ComeComeComeComeComeComeComeCome!”
GIANT 2: “Show him the cookie, Dave.”
GIANT 1: “He sees the cookie. He’s looking right at the cookie! Cookie, Budleigh!”
BUDLEIGH: “Any shoes?”
GIANT 1: “Give him a little push, Hon. Get him started.”
BRISBY. “Go limp, you fool! Go limp!”
GIANT 2: “I can’t move him. What’s he made of, depleted uranium?”
GIANT 1: “Budleigh! ComeComeComeCome!”
GIANT 2: “CookieCookieCookieCookie!”
BUDLEIGH: “Shoe? Shoe? Shoe? Shoe?”
BRISBY: “Keep hope alive, brother! I’m callin’ a strike vote!”
I call my terrier “Edgar Rice” because he “burrows” under the covers. Get it? See what I did there? Anyway, I could kill him.
Because of their tenacious demeanor, killing a terrier is at best a temporary solution and usually just irritates them. Better to understand the basis of this all-too-common burrowing behavior and take comfort knowing that even the most determined diggers will stop before reaching the Earth’s core.
Behavioristically speaking – which is best done in a stilted, British accent while polishing wire-rim spectacles – certain canine breeds are small-prey hunters. Digging into narrow tunnels to flush out rodents is wired into the very genetic code of terriers, dachshunds and, sadly, my Aunt Carla who, to her credit, kept an amazingly tidy pantry.
Convincing Budleigh that there are relatively few rodents in our bed and that those are strictly controlled is hopeless. Instinct rules. And if no vermin are to be found, at least he can take comfort buried in a confining space under 20 lbs. of bed linens without light and a dwindling air supply.
GIANT 2: “Dave, is that your cold foot? For the sake of God, please tell me that’s your cold, slightly moist, snoring foot.”
GIANT 1: “Hon, I’m in the bathroom.”
GIANT 2: “Ewwwww! Budleigh’s under the covers!”
GIANT 1: “I know. He’s been there for hours.”
BUDLEIGH: “Good news! No rats.”
GIANT 2: “Do you think it’s safe? Can he breathe?”
GIANT 1: “Yeah, I worry about that, too. Maybe we should put a canary down there?”
GIANT 2: “That’s a good plan, Dave. And maybe a little camp stove.”
GIANT 1: “And a portable generator with big, doggie-friendly rubber buttons.”
GIANT 2: “And an emergency whistle—ˮ
GIANT 1: “And a self-sustaining potato crop—ˮ
GIANT 2: “And Matt Damon!”
GIANT 1: “Naw! Budleigh’s black. The Academy will just snub him.”
BUDLEIGH: “Shoes! Don’t forget shoes!”
When a young dog permanently leaves his crate to take his place on the family bed, it is a cause for celebration much like a Bar Mitzvah.
“Today I am a Man,” they proclaim. “Only, you know, a Dog.”
And finally, until it’s needed again your dog’s cumbersome, old crate can be safely stored away. Under the covers at the foot of your bed next to the camp stove.
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This article is part of “Sleeping Between Giants”, a new series of columns on the Write Good!: The Blog blog.
Sleeping Between Giants explores life – if you can call it that – with a terrier.
Your feedback is welcome, probably. dj
Permission to re-use this material for non-commercial purposes is granted provided that Dave Jaffe, www.writegoodtheblog.com, is appropriately credited as the author and source. Please feel free to link to this page.
Poisoning your Dog: A Thanksgiving Primer
Posted in Humor, Sleeping Between Giants, tagged bones, chocolate, dangerous, dog, garlic, holiday, onion, party, people food, pets, raisins, stress, table, thanksgiving, turkey, vet on November 25, 2015| Leave a Comment »
By Dave Jaffe
With all the dangers to pets posed by ingesting turkey skin, chocolates, raisins, sweets, and other holiday fare, it’s a wonder that dogs celebrate Thanksgiving at all.
Yet Thanksgiving is a joyous holiday for dogs, one that dates back to the harvest feast of 1621 in Plymouth when members of the Mashpee Wampanoag tribe – or Native Americans – broke bread with Puritan settlers – or Immigrants-Who-Decided-They-Were-Now-The-Native-Americans. During the historical confusion, much of that broken bread fell on the floor and was quickly consumed by Non-Partisan dogs who wondered why everyone was shouting.
Like many dogs, Budleigh acquires table scraps by keeping a low profile.
Dogs are primarily carnivores, or “meat eaters”, unlike humans who are omnivores, or “prone to heart attacks”. While dogs thrive best on a meat-based diet, they are naturally drawn to anything that is peanut-butter-shaped and will eat almost any food. Also any packaging materials. Oh, and bras.
Humans have been feeding table scrapes to canines since Prehistoric Man first lost a hand. Having learned nothing from that, many continue the practice, especially at the holidays and much to the detriment of dogs.
The list of common Thanksgiving foods that can be harmful to dogs is easily available online or through your veterinarian. As a precaution during the holidays, have the phone number for Animal Poison Control readily available. Ask for Jeremy.
The best way to safeguard your pet from ingesting unhealthy foods is to keep him away from Uncle Max.
GIANT ONE: “Uncle Max, please don’t feed table scraps to Budleigh. They can make him sick.”
GIANT MAX: “Since when are chocolate-covered turkey skin raisins bad for dogs?”
BUDLEIGH: “I love you!”
GIANT ONE: “Actually, Max, those can be very dangerous.”
GIANT MAX: “Nonsense! My second, fourth and eleventh dogs were raised on table scraps.”
BUDLEIGH: “Can I have your bra?”
Especially in homes with multiple dogs, guests should be warned to guard their unattended hors d’oeuvres, drinks, and purses. Dogs like Brisby, our innocent schnoodle, and Budleigh, our thug, cooperate in packs much the way Dickens’ street urchins work in organized crime syndicates.
GIANT FAGIN: “And what ’ave you brought for me, my dears?”
BRISBY: “A bit of ham, sir.”
GIANT FAGIN: (Looking about comically) “Where is it?”
BRISBY: “Where’s what, sir?”
GIANT FAGIN: “The bit of ham, my dear!”
BRISBY: “Don’t know what you mean, sir.”
GIANT FAGIN: “The ham! You said you nicked a bit o’ ham.”
BRISBY: “Oh, that! Well….don’t know what you mean, sir.”
GIANT FAGIN: (Sighing) “And what have you, young Budleigh, my fine terrier?
BUDLEIGH: “Are you gonna finish your bra?”
To a dog unaccustomed to crowds, the stress from a sudden houseful of guests can also be toxic, especially if they’re your family. Keep pets from becoming overexcited by providing them a safe, comforting sanctuary such as a separate room or their crate. Firmly caution guests away by posting a small sign on the door reminding them that “He’s Rabid!!” Even then, your dog might require further protection.
GIANT ONE: “Uncle Max, let Budleigh’s crate alone and come watch the Bears game.”
GIANT MAX: “Where’s th’ dog. Swear ta’ God, there’s a dog in there.”
GIANT TWO: “Nope, we don’t have a dog. Come have another drink.”
GIANT MAX: “Hey, Doooog!”
GIANT TWO: “Max, Budleigh needs his space and his quiet.”
GIANT MAX: “But he’s so much like my third, seventh, eighth and fourteenth dogs. (Begins sobbing.) He’s my bes’ little go’damn friend.”
BUDLEIGH: “Hey, I’m trying to sleep in here! Can you give him a bra, or something?”
###
This article is part of “Sleeping Between Giants”, a new series of columns on the Write Good!: The Blog blog.
Sleeping Between Giants will explore life – if you can call it that – with a terrier.
Your feedback is welcome, probably. dj
Permission to re-use this material for non-commercial purposes is granted provided that Dave Jaffe, www.writegoodtheblog.com, is appropriately credited as the author and source. Please feel free to link to this page.
Adopting a Dog: It Takes a Village. Also a Pooper Scooper
Posted in Humor, Sleeping Between Giants, tagged adopt, animal, breed, dogs, McLachlan, obedience, pets, puppy, rescue, shelter, terrier on April 30, 2015| 4 Comments »
We rescued a terrier, although why anyone would is beyond me.
Terriers are what dingos strive to be – wild dogs semi-domesticated because there’s something in it for them. Terriers are the The Joker of the animal kingdom.
Yet my wife and I chose a terrier. We felt obliged to our formerly alive terrier, Oxford, a young thug who matured into a dignified, coldly ruthless mob leader lacking only a fedora and Miami tan. His rule was paternal, loyal but arrogant. He passed away to a kidney ailment although he’d have preferred withering under police machine gun fire in a Chicago alley.
He left behind his muscle, Brisby, a German schnauzer-French poodle mix ever at odds with himself. Now with no one to guide him except a couple of pet owners who just didn’t “get me”, Brisby risked succumbing to a lifestyle of violence, drug addiction and madness.
So we got him another little thug.
Choosing to adopt a homeless dog is not an easy decision, and frankly, Sarah McLachlan isn’t helping. It’s not that I don’t want to rescue an abused animal that’s pretty much just a snout, a collar and half a paw. I just don’t have the emotional strength. I’ve always acquired my dogs from well-established, responsible breeders that I’ve never heard of except afterwards when they appear on the national news.
Going the shelter route was our way of giving back to the community without actually giving anything back. The dogs are bargain priced to move. Our veterinarian offers a steep discount on the initial checkup. Friends and family treat us like heroic characters from a Dickens novel.
And with relatively little effort we located a very social, black and white, cow-eyed terrier, about a year old. We bonded immediately, brought him into our fold, and within weeks he’d hacked our passwords and begun siphoning our accounts. But he was housebroken.
Terriers, like Budleigh, are energetic dogs that, with the proper diet and training, can vibrate through walls.
April 30 is National Adopt a Shelter Pet Day – a significant holiday that falls between Hairball Awareness Day and International Turtle Day. Our new terrier, Budleigh, has enriched all facets of our lives, with the exception of footwear. For those considering adopting a shelter dog, here are a few tips to make the transition easier:
1. All shelters name their dogs “Bandit”. No one knows why. It’s ok to change it.
2. Like Congress, not all shelter dogs are housebroken. This is easily managed with a pooper scooper and an educated, informed electorate.
3. There really is a Hairball Awareness Day.
4. Acquaint yourself with the many dog breeds so you know what to expect.
Retrievers, for example, make excellent companions but have become so popular that our nation is rapidly running out of things to retrieve.
5. Ensure an ideal match by carefully evaluating a shelter dog’s behavior when you first meet. Is he wiggly and licky or does he just hand you a business card? The former might be great with children, the latter a potential corporate investor.
Like many first-time adopters, my wife and I feared we’d be overwhelmed by the responsibility of raising a rescue dog. Yet, Budleigh, now in his fifth month with us, has proved no more a challenge than if we’d both pursued medical degrees.
All dogs want is to love their people and fit into the pack. Dog owners just need to commit a bit of time and patience and they’ll be rewarded with a wiggly, licky, devoted little buddy, or at very least a reliable corporate investor.
dj
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