BAD STUFF

i read that in Camarillo, California someone soaked a Basset in lighter fluid and set him on fire. He died. His name was Buddy.

I am trying to think what Buddy did to deserve this at the hands of what are billed as the "superior species".

It has been a long time since I have heard of a Basset setting his owner on fire. I am sure there are days when Conley thinks of horrible endings for me, but I doubt setting me on fire is one of them.

This ia Mitchell.It means someone took lighter fluid and poured it all over a dog that once did things like this and set it on fire.

Or a dog like this. One that just wanted to be loved and have a little bit to eat every day. Imagine pouring lighter fluid on this dog and throwing a match on him.
Imagine what I would do to you if I caught you doing that.

                                        OR THIS

GOT ANY IDEAS?

 

 

TRAINING DAY 3 OR 4

Four I think.
Last week, as you may remember, little Doc was traumatized by "puppy playtime" during which a dervish Terrier tried to wrap him in a leash and then a German Shepherd got close enough to eat him. So altho I wasn't real thrilled with the situation I knew he had to go back just to make sure he understood that not every group situation was going to be made up of insane little Terrier puppies or Giant German Shepherds.

                                                      Poor little me.

So we got there a little early because I planned on getting lost again but I didn't.
And the first dog we met was a little poodle who was thrilled at seeing a black dog and so they sniffed and wagged and then the big dogs started coming out and THEY sniffed and wagged and everything was fine again.

I learned that halfway through the hour-long class,Doc is finished.
He did this to me last time, but I think he was so distressed by the  "Playtime" incident that I thought that was what made him stop  paying attention.

But this time I thought about it. Class is at 7:15 at night, about the time my dogs are usually starting to slow down. They get up about 5 in the morning and spend the bulk of the day playing. Now it's dark out and I am expecting this 13 wk old puppy to pay attention and work.

So we left. We missed the agility stuff. Without it we won't "graduate". I don't think we care. I'm not real sure, but I think at this point Doc would rather take a nap.
I know I would....

MISSED THINGS

Missed 3 phone calls on my cell yesterday about someone wanting to make a major purchase of my jewelry. I feel sick. I don't know where I was that I did not hear the phone.The only place I can think of is the woods, where I went for a brief time just to see if I coud photo something new and different and perhaps some deer.
I did not see any deer at all. It was sunny and wet underfoot so it was quiet. I was far enough from the road to not hear traffic.
And suddenly, so far away it was just barely audible, I heard them.

I could not see them because of the trees. But I stood leaning against a mossy tree listening to the Sandhills as they approached, came very close and must have been either low or a huge flock, and  vanished again. I LOVE the sound of the Sandhills. I used to count them for Audubon because our house is, literally, part of the flyway.

At my house they show up about noon, so I looked at my cell phone and it was 12:23 but they probably took 5 minutes to approach, and go over, and disappear again, on their way to Jasper Wildlife in Indiana.

When you count you first start (or I did) by counting by twos. Then 5s. Then 10s. Once you know what 10 Sandhill cranes overhead looks like, you've got it made. I sat outside once years ago all afternoon with the dogs and counted over 2000 Cranes from about 10 in the morning until about 3 pm. Huge flocks, wheeling and calling and giving me, for that day, permanent goosebumps. Cranebumps.

 

And in Indiana, when they land in the evening in the fields at the Wildlife Preserve, you get an idea of how many you counted and how many you missed:

 

 

(This is not my photo. It is from Natl Geo and I think it is the Nebraska site, but this is pretty much what Jasper looks like as well. I do not know where those photos are.)

My dogs, when the Cranes go overhead with their strange, desolate calls, look up once. Not again.I wonder if sporting breeds pay more attention. Mine are not birders, but does a pointer's heart rate skyrocket when he hears those huge birds?

CANT THINK OF A TITLE

I went out with the camera today while the dogs were out. (They are still out).
It is hard for me to see Doc's growth unless I am picking him up. When he got off the plane I could tuck him under one arm and still use both hands.
Now I need both hands and both arms and to remember to take my glasses off first.

But what surprised me the most about the photos I got were two of Conley.

Now he was intended as a show dog, and he is a very nicely put together Basset, but he hates to show. The rule is, No Tail, No Ribbon. A basset must have his tail up in the ring, something Conley fairly often refuses to do.
But actually, THIS is what he looks like:

If he had done that four times in the ring, if he had stood like that on the ramp or even on the mat, he would be a champion now. I am of course biased, but I think he is beautiful.
And he stood like that for maybe a half a minute..looking for the Brat, and then....

There he was, Mr. Mouth. Looking semi-innocent. Across the yard. Staring back.

                                   He spots the Quarry.

And he and Llewis are off, after Conley...

 

 

                       Ooops I think I

                                        Overran the object

             Oh wait stop stop. You have a treat in that pocket?

 

 

A MESS OF STUFF

Nigel is home from his stay at the Vetspital with his nebbeminds looking more like Frankendog than Nigel. He is a little low key, not so much that he couldn't get up the strength to whine for 40minutes straight last night.
I managed to get him on the bed without tearing any stitches out so that I could do his morning ablutions. In the middle of that Conley and Doc began banging on the back door to come in, so I dashed around the corner to let them in and had no more started Nigel up again than Doc peed on the floor in front of me. So bellowing at him, I left Nigel on the bed with a cath in place and shoved puppy out the door, but of course, I could not go out with him.
I returned to Nigel who was perfectly peaceable and with Doc pounding on the back door managed to finish up. Then I cleaned up puppy pee and let the little monster back inside. And as I pass the bed I hear lick lick lick lick which takes a moment to register: dog licking incision WHOA!!!DOG LICKING INCISION??
I grab the inflatable collar and put it on Nigel:

Have you ever

                                    Seen such a dirty look from a dog?

Then I ordered the postcards for the Gallery Holiday sale except that at the end I discovered they had for some reason billed someone else. I tried to call but their customer service is down due to weather.
Where ARE these people located? Is it typhoon season?

And here I sit, waiting patiently for the next catastrophe.

Oh. And I ordered the new wood-bristled Chris Christiansen dog brush. My name will go all over this thing. These are the things that walk away at dog shows. I lost another Christiansen brush that way.
These aren't cheap brushes. If you had told me 20 yrs ago that I would be shelling out for a special dog brush, I probably would have....well...I was probably doing it then, too.

Nigel, by the way, HATES that collar.

DOGS IN THE MORNING

Now here is a great thing about dogs.

Every morning they wake up and they are sooooo happy to be alive and that it is morning and they have another whole day to be running and playing and peeing on things, sniffing the air, wagging their tails...

Not a single dog I have ever had got up in the morning and looked in the mirror and thought "Oh crap! I have that presentation today."
If they look in mirrors at all they may think
"Hey! Good lookin' dog!!" and then it's out the door to see what new and wonderful things happened in the yard overnight.

And they eat! Ahhh, one of the highlights of their day: food. And with a warm, full belly, maybe they fall asleep again for awhile but when I open the crates out they swarm, tails going, tongues going--
Don't jump on me -- is such an empty command here.
And they play
"I am the happiest to see you even tho I just saw you a half hour ago."
How could you stay depressed and angry and cold and old and frustrated?
At least for those few moments, the room is so full of life and love and happiness. How can you not smile or laugh, or want to sit on the floor and be overwhelmed?
And you know, They're For You. No matter what you do or say during the rest of the day, those dogs will vote for you. They have declared their political party long ago, and it's You.

Dogs: They watch out for you.

HOW TO SPEND A SATURDAY

Saturday morning. What is there to do?

See how fast I can go without running into the fence because they all laugh when I run into the fence even as they pick me up and  ask if I'm all right. Gotta get the brakes under control. Always something I need to practice.

"Kill" Uncle Llewis. He's a very good sport outside but not inside the house. That is one of those things we learn "the hard way".

Hunting for...um...back here all alone hunting for ....Oh whoops i think I hear Mom calling!

Post prandial naptime. Full Belly, warm rug, sleepy time. But not for long. Because they bought me a new toy and I want to get up and play with it. Now it's raining too, so I can't go out. Perfect for a new, expensive toy.

You have to start at one corner

and work your way around the perimeter of it. Don't EAT it, just shred.

Some sections are more difficult than others and others taste better. I think it's the kind of ink they use.

Oh well never mind. Hello Slipper. I love you.

EMERGENCIES

Here is the really cool thing about dogs. Just like children, they get sick at the most inopportune times. Sunday morning, Christmas Eve, the day your Vet is due to leave for his first vacation in 10 yrs, 30 minutes past closing, three hours before opening...

And of course there are the wait-n-sees: He's been vomiting for two weeks but I thought we'd wait n see.
And the slow emergencies:
He's been limping for two weeks but we think the leg might be broken.
And the It's Your Faults:
He had his rabies shot two months ago and now he's vomiting!

And the genuine emergencies:
Hit by Car
Cant breathe
Seizure
and Mine, surely one of the weirder emergencies:
I got the urinary catheter in part way and now I cannot get it out.

 Poor Nigel.

So I wrapped him in Vet wrap and took him in and at the time that the Vets were supposed to be going home to dinner (Or stopping at El Burrito Loco) they were gloved and digging around in Nigel's bladder, hauling out grit by what I am told was the handful. In addition, removing not just his testicles but the purse he kept them in, a tooth and a wart on his eye.
But the important thing was that bladder, because if he cannot pee, if the urethra is blocked with pebbles, he will die.

So the 4 a.m. call from the sitter (who I know well) was good, the post op recovery phase seemed to go well. I will leave him there a day or two.

To remind me that these things happen, there is about 8" of a urinary catheter sticking in my pen holder. (A mug from the Basset Hound Club of America)

And here's a tip: NEVER EVER TRY to pull a stuck urinary catheter out of anything. Let someone else do it.

And thus begins another day at the House of the Repeated Poor (Just when we catch up.....)

Be ye Easy, as a good friend used to say.

ODDS AND ENDS MOSTLY ODDS

Two days ago trying to teach the little one to take treats gently, my right index finger got in the way of a tiny, razor sharp canine and got ripped open to the tune of about a quarter inch. I have been badly bitten in my day and I am here to tell you none of those bites hurt like this did. And bleed? Good lord. Blood spatter everywhere with, of course, four dogs trying to help"Let me see let me see I can fix it oooo blood i can fix!"

"She stuck it in my face and said something and I said MINE and the next thing I know everyone is yelling and dancing around and Conley says "Nice goin kid, boy are you a dope."

Then the memories flooded back. Every Basset I have owned has had a gentle mouth.

None of the Belgians has.

Quiller and Cooper, the first two, I had to wear heavy sweatshirts and loose pants (this was when there was such a thing as loose pants for me) because if they grabbed my arm they left bruises. They were not being mean or extra rough. They had very good bite inhibition or I would still be looking for the pieces of my hand. They were big male intact dogs who played rough.
Cooper once took a chunk out of my hand during a show when Iwas baiting him up. I kept my hand in a fist trying to stop the bleeding in the ring.
Cooper also (I think-- maybe it was Quiller) took a chunk out of my lip when I tried getting him to "watch me" by dangling a piece of string cheese out of my mouth. (Thank you, Susan for that suggestion.)

They're a herding breed. They're visual, they're alert, they're...maybe a little exciteable.

Anyway I have weathered the flesh wound altho I believe it is infected. (I know it is). We are working hard on "NICE" but so far it appears to be a bit like "Down"---" Lo siento yo no entiendo nada de lo que dices"

I dunno, he's from Texas, maybe that's the problem.

 

I ATE SUMFING

I ate sumfin today.
Noboddy nos whut it was.
once upon a tyme it were libbin
Not enymore.
Mom took sum away frum me.
But she cuddent tell whut it were needer.
heh heh heh heh heh heh

TRAINING THE PUPPY

I know the dogs most people are interested in are the Bassets, but at the moment I am kind of heavily involved with this NOTABASSET, Doc the Belgian Sheepdog Puppy. This is what he looked like when he stepped out of his crate at O'Hare airport, in Chicago.

Sweet li'l Thing, isn't he? All fuzz and wondrous eyes..............

This is Doc now, two weeks later or so, when he has grown a little and settled in here at home:

 

Not quite the same shy, innocent, nervous little thing he was. Not even a little thing anymore, weighing in at over 16 pounds and able to run like a gazelle.

So the Puppy (Doc) goes to class. Once a week. We have learned sit and down and sort of sometimes "come" and now working on around, and a couple of things I have already forgotten about.

 

 

1.THE SIT
Call the puppy to you and hold a treat over his head slightly until he sits. Good puppy. Give treat. Call the puppy. PUPPY!! HEY YOU!!!
Grab puppy as he shoots past trying to leap on the 2.5 pound mini Aussie puppy to "play". Grabbing puppy by tail as he goes past is frowned upon by most trainers as is snatching him off the floor and trying to avoid shaking him until you can hear his brain cell rattling because he does this PERFECTLY at home, time after time.

2. THE DOWN

This is actually called the "partial down". It is a specialty of Doc's. The next step is to push the front legs out further propelling with the rear and sliding along the floor without actually having his butt end touch the ground.
The other variation is the SEAL TEAM 6 CRAWL-- in which nothing really touches the ground but the puppy crawls, military style, after the treat.
The cure for this is NOT to step on the puppy to force his rear to the floor. That will get you excused permanently from class and perhaps from owning other dogs.

 

This is how Doc looks at the trainer. He is sitting because she told him to. In a moment he will do a perfect down. He also came from across the room just to do this for her.

 

I am standing by the door while other owners cast sidelong glances at me and shake their heads slightly as they pass by with their 10 day old baby Chihuahuas heeling and doing fronts and finishes. (Well not really that young, but you know what i mean.)

Even the evil wheaten terrier is perfect.

 

As she goes past with the dog in perfect heel position,  the trainer says to me "I don't understand what problems you are having with him!"

 

 

                   'I don't know," I respond sulkily, "Ask Conley."

TOYS

I have never seen dogs with so many toys.
Some of them are left over from dogs that are long gone. Some are relatively new. Some were gifts, some from me.
Some have spent entire seasons in the yard until their "fur" was green and I had to wash them with bleach.  Some still squeak, other's are voiceless.
Right now the most popular items are the ones in which other items arrived: cardboard boxes.
Not like cats-- not jumping in and out and hiding in. For eating. Ok for chewing since the puppy is not allowed to swallow paper products.

This is the most expensive toy I think I have ever bought. It was $20 and I think I got ripped, but that's ok. I like it.

 

 

Remember Cooper's Rat? We still have that. I am not sure where he is, maybe at the bottom of the toy basket, but he spent all summer in the yard and managed to survive. Typical rat.

A whole mess of toys. During the course of the day these become alternates. They are often used as distraction toys-- to stop unwanted behavior.

 

This is a puppy who has just been seriously corrected for getting into the trash. For the fourth time in a row. As you can see, this is what he thinks of my prohibition about trash cans, and since I even yelled he is going to assume I no longer love him and that he doesn't know I exist. Eventually we reconciled.

He has a toy I was unable to find. Heidi gave it to him and it is a little pink ball with tentacle kind of things and he loves it to death but I am not sure where, at the moment, it is.

The following photo shows him sleeping with his most favorite thing, which is unfortunately also one of MY most favorite things, but in this case he got to keep it for awhile.

NIGEL

Nigel wants to play with the puppy.
Since Nigel cannot walk,much less run, this is difficult. we were allowing him limited access to the yard until he ended up with a sore on one back legs and very owie looking testicles, and then I decreed that he was no longer allowed outside without the cart. (Before the puppy arrived, he would lay in one spot with his brother, in the sun.)

But once he saw that the others were playing Bumper Basset with the puppy, he wanted to play as well.
Now.
Nigel has a cart. He loves his cart for walkies but somehow he hates it in the backyard and has always refused to move, just stood in one spot, everything drooping, miserable. It seemed possible to me that the excitement of the Basset/Belgian 500 (The black car always wins) might excite Nigel enough to (gasp) move while in the cart inthe backyard.

 

It took a day or two. But my new rule is: no cart, no yard. And so now we are delighted to say that Nigel does indeed roll around the yard in his cart, trying to play.

 

Mostly he stands in a central location and barks as the other two Bassets and Doc zoom past. Sometimes they use Nigel as a center point and he keeps trying to turn the cart fast enough to keep track of who is where, even though I could tell him: Doc is in the lead so far he is coming up on Llewis who is last. Conley is closing in on Doc from behind as he slows up for Llewis.

(Rare footage of Nigel and Conley discussing the upcoming election and the way our society treats teachers and cops. They are working on their economic recovery program and medidog changes.)

Anyway Now Nigel carts around the backyard, the puppy almost always goes to the back door when he needs to go, and Nigel would like to remind people that he would not be the first President in a wheelchair.